#also I just finished Black Sails and I cried a lot. why did I think getting emotionally attached to a show and finishing it was smart? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

purplehairedwonder · 3 years

Text

Lead Me Back to Suffering Chapter 3

Fandom: One Piece Rating: R Pairings: Trafalgar Law/Donquixote Doflamingo (Non-consensual), Trafalgar Law/Monkey D. Luffy (eventual) Words: 3,882 Characters: Trafalgar Law, Donquixote Doflamingo, Donquixote Rosinante, Bepo, Shachi, Penguin, Monkey D. Luffy, Nami, Robin, Chopper, Usopp, Sanji, Franky, Brook Warnings: Rape/Non-con Note: This was written for the “Kidnapping” square on my Bad Things Happen Bingo @badthingshappenbingo card. Anon prompted Law and Luffy.

The title comes from the Vertical Horizon song “Shackled.”

Summary: In the wake of Kaido’s fall, Law is kidnapped from the shores of Wano.

Previous chapters: 1 | 2

Read also at AO3

Law was standing on the shores of an island that seemed somehow familiar, though he couldn’t put his finger on why, staring out to sea when a familiar voice caused him to whirl around.

“Law.”

“Cora-san,” Law replied, lips twitching upward.

Rosinante looked as he always did, his black feather coat making his already tall figure look even more imposing while the numerous hearts on his clothing softened his sharp edges. An exercise in contradictions as ever. He held a cigarette between two fingers as he smiled softly at Law. At any moment, that cigarette would undoubtedly catch on the man’s clothing.

Law knew he was dreaming. He’d had so many dreams like this one that they no longer took him off-guard. But the next words out of the man’s mouth did startle him.

“I’m so disappointed in you, Law.”

Law’s stomach dropped. “What?”

“You think I don’t know what you’ve done with the life I gave up for you?” Rosinante said, pointing his cigarette in Law’s direction accusingly.

“I—” Law hesitated.

“You were free, kid,” Rosinante went on, voice rising. Ashes fell from the end of the cigarette as he gestured with it. “You were supposed to live a good life. Save yourself. Save other people. Heal people.” He shook his head. “But you became—”

“A killer,” Law whispered, guilt heavy in his chest.

He gasped as Rosinante suddenly stood in front of him. The larger man’s expression sharpened as he grabbed Law’s shoulders and spun him around. Law yelped in surprise, feeling like a child being manhandled across the North Blue all over again.

“My brother’s,” Rosinante finished, tracing the line bisecting the Jolly Roger on Law’s back. “You became Doffy’s.”

Law pulled himself free and turned around once more, face burning. “I didn’t—”

But hadn’t he? He might have sailed under his own Jolly Roger since he was sixteen, but deep down, Law knew his Jolly Roger’s design had not only been in honor of Cora-san, but also a middle finger to Doflamingo. The trajectory of Law’s life had been shaped by his quest for revenge against Doflamingo. Even when he was meant to be free, Law was controlled by Doflamingo.

Doflamingo burning his mark into Law’s back was only visually affirming what they both knew—Law was Doflamingo’s creature, inside and out.

Law’s argument died on his tongue, words turned to ash in his mouth. And all the while, Rosinante watched him, expression grim.

“Saving you was a mistake,” he said, shaking his head. “Could have saved an entire country instead.”

“Cora-san,” Law choked out, breath knocked from his lungs at those words. “Cora-san, please…”

He reached out toward Rosinante, but the other man started fading away, the disappointment on his face the last Law saw of him.

Law’s mouth moved silently for several moments; he thought he could feel the cracks spreading in his chest as tears stung the corners of his eyes.

“Captain!”

Law’s head snapped up as Bepo, Shachi, and Penguin hurried toward him. He could feel the tightness in his chest loosening slightly at the sight of his nakama.

“You found me,” he said as his three oldest friends reached him.

“We told you we would, Captain,” Shachi said as if it were obvious.

“We’d find you anywhere,” Penguin agreed.

“It’s good to see you,” Law admitted, Cora-san’s words still stinging.

“I wish we could say the same, Captain,” Bepo said coolly.

Law frowned, confused. “Bepo?”

“I thought you were loyal to us, Law,” Bepo went on. “The Heart Pirates.”

“Of course I am. What are you talking about—” Suddenly, Law was pushed forward onto his hands and knees, revealing his back to the trio.

Shachi and Penguin gasped, and the air surrounding the four turned cold.

“You left us on Zou for him,” Shachi said, tone cooling.

“You never planned to come back,” Penguin added darkly.

“You were always Doflamingo’s,” Bepo accused. “Never ours.”

Law’s hands tightened into fists, sand squishing between his fingers. “That’s not true,” he denied.

But Law had left his crew to complete his revenge against Doflamingo. He’d sent them ahead to Zou to protect them from the fallout of his actions. It was sheer luck that he’d run into the Straw Hats on Punk Hazard and formed an alliance that ended up saving his life.

He’d put his own vengeance ahead of his nakama, never considering their feelings. Never caring about anything but taking down Doflamingo. He’d never deserved them or their loyalty.

“You were always his,” Penguin reiterated.

“And now everyone knows it,” Shachi finished.

“Guys, please—”

“You don’t deserve the title of Captain,” Bepo said as the trio faded away. “Not when you’re another’s.”

“No,” Law croaked, voice cracking along with his heart. He tried to push himself to his feet to chase his fading friends, but he slipped and dropped back to his knees as his three oldest friends disappeared with disgust on their faces. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be, Torao.”

Law swallowed and closed his eyes in resignation. Why not Luffy, too?

“Straw Hat-ya,” he murmured, pained.

After a moment, he felt a hand wrap around his chin. He opened his eyes warily to see Luffy kneeling in front of him, expression intent. His grip loosened, and his hand slid up to cup Law’s cheek. Law couldn’t help but melt into the touch, more tender than he deserved.

“You lied to them, Torao,” Luffy said gently. “About who you really are. Of course they’re going to be mad.”

Law flinched feeling the words as acutely as a blow. “I—”

“You lied to me, too.”

Law had no defense for that; he’d lied to Luffy about his intentions and had gotten him caught up in his near-fatal attempt to take down Doflamingo. He’d gotten Luffy’s nakama caught up in it as well, and he knew Luffy cared far more about that than himself.

“I didn’t really care, you know,” Luffy went on. Law swallowed as Luffy’s thumb started stroking his cheek softly. “Mingo was a bad guy, and he needed to go down. He was hurting people like Rebecca. Like you.” His hand suddenly tightened around the hair at the nape of Law’s neck, and he pulled Law’s head back. Law hissed.

“But you never told me you were his first.”

Law swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing at the vulnerable position. He was fully aware of the threat the hands that held him now presented. “Straw Hat-ya…”

“You made an alliance with me and my nakama when you knew you were his. How am I supposed to trust you with my life and the lives of my nakama if you’re Mingo’s?”

It might have hurt less if Luffy had punched open his chest and pulled out his beating heart.

“I’m not,” Law whispered, strained. “I’m not.”

Luffy let go of his grip on Law’s hair, and Law fell forward bonelessly into the sand. He felt like he’d been using Room too much, drained down to the core. Hollow.

“You don’t deserve any of us, Torao,” Luffy said sadly as he, too, faded away. “You never did.”

“I know.”

Law jerked awake and immediately groaned, burying his face into his pillow as his healing back protested the sudden movement. A moment later, he tensed when he felt a light touch on his skin. The burn should really be bandaged, he thought absently as he screwed his eyes shut against the intrusive touch.

“Bad dreams?” Doflamingo asked mildly.

“Fuck off,” Law muttered before shoving his face back into the pillow.

Doflamingo, the bastard, just chuckled as he continued tracing the brand on Law’s back. He’d been doing that a lot over the last several days—or at least what Law thought were several days; he’d been in and out through much of it.

That first night, after burning Law’s back, Doflamingo had released Law from his bindings, letting him crumple, half-conscious, to the floor. Law had cried out when Doflamingo had picked him up and carried him to the bed, placing him facedown onto the mattress and baring the burn to the world. He hadn’t fucked Law that night, though he had rutted up against Law’s ass until he came, like a horny teenager. He’d then marked Law’s back with his come. Law had been in too much pain to care.

Over the next several days, Doflamingo allowed the ship’s doctor (who’d healed up well enough since the accident Law had treated him for) into the bedroom to wash and treat the burn so it wouldn’t become infected, but he wouldn’t let the doctor give Law any pain medication.

“There are consequences when you betray me, little bird,” Doflamingo had murmured from his side the second night as Law had writhed under Doflamingo’s touch.

It wasn’t until what Law thought was about a week after the incident that he’d finally gotten a good look at the marking. Though he’d made trips to the bathroom to relieve himself and in the previous days, he’d been too out of it to look at the burn. But that morning, he’d woken with a clearer mind so, when he’d gone to the bathroom, he’d stood in front of the mirror for a long stretch, gathering the courage to look at his back. Then he’d turned around and carefully twisted as far as his healing skin would let him.

It was far enough.

He could see how the burn had effectively turned Law’s tattooed Jolly Roger into Doflamingo’s own.

Law’s stomach had roiled, and he’d immediately dropped to his knees in front of the toilet to vomit. Once he’d hollowed himself out, likely pulling at the healing scabs on his back, Law had stumbled back to the bed and dropped face-first onto the mattress, plagued by thoughts of what Cora-san would think if he could see his brother’s Jolly Roger irrevocably left on Law’s skin—and the dreams had followed.

-----

It was on the eighth day after Law’s call to his nakama that the Hearts and Straw Hats arrived on Raydare. It didn’t take long to realize Law and his captors were no longer on the island—not that the two crews had really expected them to be, but Bepo had stubbornly held onto hope. He’d seen stranger things on the Grand Line, after all.

From what they learned on their first foray onto the island, it took three days for the Log Pose to set. That meant that Doflamingo had a five-day head start on his pursuers if they’d left immediately. That also gave the Hearts and Straw Hats three days to figure out which direction to set out in next. While it was possible Doflamingo would simply follow the Log Pose to the next island, if Law was right that the former Warlord was trying to reclaim his underworld operation, then it was more likely that he had specific destinations in mind. But how would they figure out what those were? They’d only made it to Raydare because Law had managed to contact them, however briefly.

Law had sounded… tired, Bepo thought. “I’m…managing,” he’d said. Bepo knew his best friend well enough to recognize when he was putting on a brave face, and this had been one of those times. They needed to find him. Nothing good could come of Law in Doflamingo’s cruel hands—not with the history the two men shared.

While the others had gone into town, Bepo had stayed on the Polar Tang—partly because he was used to staying behind to avoid drawing unwanted attention and partly because he didn’t want to leave the ship’s Den Den Mushi unattended in case Law called again. Shachi and Penguin had given him understanding pats on his shoulder before going into town to resupply and seek out information.

On the second night docked at Raydare, both crews met up at a tavern. Shachi and Penguin even managed to pull Bepo away from the Den Den Mushi for the evening. (Bepo knew it was unlikely that Law would manage another call so soon after the first one, but he hoped…)

“Bear!” Luffy called with a cheerful wave when he, Shachi, and Penguin walked into the tavern.

Bepo pulled at his snout, embarrassed, as he and his friends joined the Straw Hats and Hearts who had already arrived. He glanced around the tavern and saw that it was mostly empty except for the two pirate crews and bar regulars who were more focused on their drinks than the rowdy men and women sharing tables and ordering endless plates and drinks.

“Straw Hat,” Bepo greeted as he sat down across from Nami, who smiled at him. Bepo smiled back; he’d gotten to know Nami a bit on Zou and enjoyed their conversations about navigation.

“Bepo!”

Bepo turned to see Chopper a couple of seats down with Nico Robin and Ikkaku. The reindeer waved happily and Bepo waved back. He was quite fond of the Straw Hats’ doctor, even if he wasn’t a mink.

“I’m glad you came out today,” Chopper said. “We haven’t seen you much.”

“Ah. Sorry. I was just—”

“Hoping Torao-kun would call again?” Robin suggested.

Bepo swallowed and nodded, not trusting his voice. Something about the woman unsettled Bepo—had since she’d been a guest on the Polar Tang on the way to Wano, though Law seemed to like her—but she simply nodded understandingly in reply.

Once all the Hearts and Straw Hats had arrived, Nami turned first to Luffy then to Bepo who, as first mate, was the acting captain of the Hearts in Law’s stead.

“The Log Pose should set sometime tomorrow,” she said, spreading out a map on the table. Those gathered around moved plates and tankards to make room for the parchment. “We need a plan for where we set off to next.”

“Without another call from Torao, it’s going to be hard to know,” Usopp said with a frown, peering at the map.

“And I doubt it will be easy for him to do it again,” Sanji added around a cigarette.

Bepo frowned at the cook. “What do you mean?”

“Ah,” Shachi said, bringing Bepo’s attention back to him. “We didn’t get a chance to tell you yet.”

“What?”

“We found the communications relay Law used to call us,” Penguin explained. “It was… leveled,” he said after a hesitation.

“Leveled?”

“Apparently, the day Law made the call, Doflamingo showed up at the shop and destroyed it,” Shachi said. He grimaced. “And he strung up the shopkeeper. As an example.” He shook his head. “No one really wanted to talk to us when we started asking around about Law because of it.”

Bepo’s eyes widened. If Doflamingo had done that to an innocent shopkeeper, whose sole crime was renting Law a Den Den Mushi, what would he do to Law? He glanced around the table and noted grim expressions on the other pirates’ faces.

“Don’t worry, Bepo!” Bepo looked up in surprise to see a serious look on Luffy’s face. “We’ll find Torao. And I’ll kick Mingo’s ass even harder this time so he can’t hurt him ever again.”

Bepo nodded, unsure of what else to do in the face of Luffy’s enthusiasm. He wondered briefly if this was how Law felt when faced with his allied captain. Law had known something about this boy two years earlier when he had ordered the Hearts to sail for Marineford in the middle of the Paramount War, and his faith had been rewarded in Dressrosa.

Bepo would never be able to thank Luffy enough for bringing Law home alive. Would he be able to pull another miracle from that straw hat of his now?

“We weren’t able to get any clues around town or at the harbor,” Jean Bart piped up after a moment. “Several people saw Law at the market nine days ago, but no one saw him after that.”

The Hearts were particularly good at intelligence gathering—having a surgeon for a captain meant they prized precision above all else—so there must not have been much useful intelligence to be found in Raydare if the crew came up empty.

“Robin?” Nami asked. “What about you?”

“I was able to get ears inside Rorik’s meeting today,” Robin replied. “He gave no indications about where Doflamingo might go next, but I did hear something else interesting.”

“Oh?”

“Torao-kun was right that Doflamingo is looking to take back his black-market operation. And he plans to do it by selling a bioweapon of some kind.”

“Bioweapon?” Chopper asked, straightening. “That can’t be good.”

“What kind of bioweapon?” Ikkaku asked, leaning forward.

Robin shrugged a single shoulder. “He didn’t specify. I got the impression it’s something very rare and very deadly, though.” She looked at Bepo then Luffy. “He’ll likely reach out to the highest-level brokers in the New World with promises of this new weapon like he did with Rorik to secure his return to power.”

“Any idea who these brokers are?” Franky asked. “That would be a super clue.”

“I don’t know. I’ve reached out to some of my contacts to see if they have any ideas but have not heard back yet.”

“Law might know some names,” Penguin said thoughtfully. “We can check his notes to see if he wrote any down.”

Bepo would be surprised if any of Law’s notes on Joker and his ilk survived—he’d kept so much of his plan a secret before he’d left for Punk Hazard—but it was worth a shot, even if Bepo felt uncomfortable with the idea of going through Law’s papers.

Without much more to go on, the gathering slowly broke up. Bepo headed back to the Tang with Shachi and Penguin. The trio headed to Law’s room. For a moment, they stood outside the door uncomfortably. Finally, Penguin spoke.

“We’re doing this to help him.”

“I know, but it still feels like…” Shachi trailed off.

“Betraying him?” Bepo suggested. The other two nodded grimly.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Shachi said, grabbing the door handle and turning it.

The three stepped into the room. Bepo swallowed. Between the made bed, papers piled on the desk, and books piled on the nightstand, it looked like Law had just stepped out and would be back at any moment. Law was an immensely private person, so going through his personal things like this made Bepo’s hackles rise. But if anyone might have the information they needed to help Law, it was Law himself.

The three exchanged looks then went to work. After murmuring a silent apology to Law, Bepo started looking through the papers on Law’s desk. Unsurprisingly, they all seemed to be related to Wano and the SMILEs. He dug through the drawers and flipped through notebooks, but none of them had any relevant information on the criminal underworld. Meanwhile, Penguin was looking through the books on the nightstand, the drawers, and under the bed while Shachi went systematically though the books on the bookshelves that ringed Law’s room.

By the time they’d looked through everything they could find, they were no closer to finding their captain—their friend—and just felt dirty for going through his belongings. Defeated, the trio went their separate ways for the night.

Bepo had watch later that night, so he went to his room and laid down. Rather than sleep, though, his mind kept returning to what had happened to the shopkeeper. Bepo tossed and turned, imagination playing out the worst possible scenarios for Law over and over. He thought about the wounds Law had tried to hide when he returned from Dressrosa and the haunted looks that crossed his face when Dressrosa was mentioned.

By the time Bepo’s watch was about to start, he was little more than a sweaty, anxious mess. He dragged himself outside and onto the deck, the waxing moon providing his mink eyes plenty of light to find Uni and relieve him. Once his friend had headed off for bed, Bepo prepared to settle in for a few hours but paused when he noticed movement on the Thousand Sunny.

It must be whoever’s on watch, Bepo thought before sitting down. But, a few minutes later, he noticed movement again from the figurehead. That wasn’t where someone would typically take watch from on that ship. With a frown, Bepo stood up and padded to the Tang’s bow and looked across to their allied ship.

Luffy sat on the Sunny’s figurehead, straw hat in hand, looking out toward the sea.

“Straw Hat?” Bepo called softly.

Luffy started then looked over at Bepo. His lips turned up in a feeble smile. “Bear,” he greeted. “Why are you up?”

“Watch.”

Luffy’s lips rounded into an o, and he nodded.

Bepo wondered if Luffy was also on watch, but movement from the crow’s nest—the skeleton—caught Bepo’s eye. If Brook were on watch, then why was Luffy up?

“Are… you okay?” Bepo asked hesitantly, not sure if it was his place to ask.

Luffy looked back at him, and Bepo shoved down the urge to apologize; he was the acting captain of an infamous pirate crew, after all. Luffy studied him for a moment, and Bepo fought not to fidget under the young captain’s scrutiny.

Finally, he let out a breath. “Torao was mad at me after Dressroba. At first.”

Bepo tilted his head, confused by the sudden confession. “Mad at you?”

Luffy shrugged. “He was mad Mingo was still alive.”

Ah. That sounded about right.

“We even got into an argument about it,” Luffy added then huffed a quiet laugh. “Shishishi. We were both so tired and injured that it didn’t last very long, though.”

“Okay…”

“I told Torao that killing Mingo meant he would be doing what Mingo wanted him to do. It would make Torao like him.” He shook his head. “Torao doesn’t think he’s a good person, but he is. And he’s definitely better than Mingo!” he added fiercely.

Bepo felt a surge of affection for Luffy in that moment. He’d long seen the same issues in Law’s self-esteem, and no amount of support from Bepo or Shachi or Penguin or any of their nakama could seem to convince him otherwise. Yet another reason Bepo was thankful Luffy had come into Law’s life.

“He is,” Bepo agreed.

Luffy nodded approvingly at Bepo, which unexpectedly warmed something in Bepo’s chest, before his expression fell. “But Mingo got out and is probably hurting Torao. And it’s my fault. Because I let Mingo live when Torao didn’t want to.” His head drooped. “Torao knew something like this could happen.”

“It’s not your fault, Straw Hat,” Bepo said with conviction. Luffy looked at him in surprise. “The only one to blame is Doflamingo. He’s a sick bastard, and we’re going to find him and we’re going to make him pay. Then he won’t be able to hurt Law or anyone ever again.”

He hoped.

Luffy was silent for a few moments, but then his expression brightened. “You’re right! We’ll do it for sure!” He hopped down from the figurehead with a grin. “Thanks, Bear!”

“Thank you, Straw Hat,” Bepo murmured as he watched Luffy head back inside his ship with a wave to the skeleton in the crow’s nest.

#The plot on this story keeps ballooning on me #Oops?#Trafalgar Law #Monkey D. Luffy #Donquixote Doflamingo #One Piece fic #One Piece fanfic #Caitlin's fic #Bad Things Happen Bingo

10 notes · View notes

lilacmoon83 · 5 years

Text

Witness Protection

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 6: Final Stand

David's face was stony, as he stared at the monster across from them. He had a lot of nerve, expecting them to be in the same room with him, let alone break bread.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't arrest you let alone kill you right here on the spot?" David questioned. Leopold smirked.

"I am not wanted for any crimes," the old man refuted.

"That we can prove...yet," David hissed in return. Leopold chuckled.

"There will never be anything to prove, Deputy. I warn you to stop this pursuit to send me to jail," he leered.

"Don't you dare threaten him…" Snow hissed at him.

"Living so far apart is not what I wanted for us at all, Mary. It's time for you to come home. And since your husband has a certain set of skills, I can even offer him a very lucrative position in my security team," Leopold said.

"Hard pass," David refuted.

"I will never put myself or my family under the same roof as you ever again. We want no part of the evil Empire you've built," Mary said with vehemence.

"Your defiance is tiresome, my dear. I encourage you to not force my hand," he warned.

"Stop making threats. This meeting is over," David said, as they stood up and he ushered his wife out. She hurriedly pushed the stroller out and she waited until they rounded the corner for the tears to start.

"We're never going to be safe from him," she sobbed, as he took her in his arms.

"Yes we are...he's not forcing us from our home this time," he assured, as he held her. But she shook her head.

"Oh David...I want to believe that. But you know him. He probably has his goons ready to move in on this town with one phone call," she cried. He wished that he could refute that claim, but he knew she was right.

"You're right...let's go pack a few things and maybe we can be in the wind before he can send them after us," he agreed, as they hurried home.

"Okay sweetheart...let's get you changed into a better outfit for traveling," she cooed, as she put their daughter on the bed, while he was hastily packing the essentials for them and their toddler.

"We're going to go on a trip, sweetheart. But you don't have to worry, because we'll be together," she added, as she finished changing her and then bundled her up again.

"Mama…where are we going? I like it here," Emma whimpered.

"Oh, I know sweetie...I wish it didn't have to be this way. There's a very bad man after us, but you don't have to worry, because mommy and daddy will protect you," she assured, as he sighed. He hated this. He hated that they had to run, because of Leopold again.

"I'm going to confront him. This has to end," he said.

"David...no! He'll have his men kill you!" she cried, as she rushed to his side.

"I can't lose you," she pleaded and he sighed, as he kissed her passionately.

"We may never be able to stop running if we don't take a stand," he reminded. But she shook her head.

"If running means that we're together, then we run," she said, as they grabbed a few bags and prepared to leave. But were stopped dead in their tracks when Leopold appeared in their doorway, along with two of his goons that she recognized as Rivers and Carny.

"I'm afraid your running days are over, my dear," he said.

"I gave you a chance to come home, but now you have forced my hand," he added, as he motioned to the two men, who brandished their weapons and held them on the little family.

"Please don't do this…" Mary Margaret pleaded.

"You have left me no choice," Leopold said, as they were led outside.

"The woods should do, Sir. There's plenty of cliffs we can toss his body off," Rivers said, as he pressed the barrel of his gun against David's head.

"No...please! I'll do anything! Just please don't kill him," Mary Margaret sobbed, as her father grabbed her arm roughly.

"March him toward the woods. Let's get rid of him and then we will return to Seattle where we belong, daughter," he said, as they walked in silence for a while, with the only sound being the crunching leaves beneath their feet and the sounds of Mary Margaret and Emma's sobs.

"Mary Margaret…" David called back to her, as Rivers roughly moved him forward.

"David…" she called, as Emma started crying harder and her father had a vice-like grip on her arm.

"I love you...and I love Emma," he said.

"I love you...father, please don't do this!" she begged.

"I have been patient with you, Mary...but your constant defiance has led to this," he hissed, as he brought her face close to his.

"You are mine, daughter...and it's time you take your place by my side," he growled.

"The hell she is," David growled, as he shoved Rivers away and grabbed her hand, as he took off into the woods. She yelped, as bullets rang out, sailing around them and Emma wailed now in fright. David pulled her along, but then stopped when he found none other than Mayor Fiona Gold in their way, along with more of her father's men.

"I'm afraid that it's the end of the line for this charming little family," she cooed.

"You...you're the reason he knew where to find us, aren't you?" Mary accused. She smiled smugly.

"Sorry dear...but I did my research on you the moment you stepped into my town. Your don't belong here and it's time you leave," she said, as Leopold and the other two caught up to them.

"There's a cliff side nearby. Shoot him and then you can be on your way," she stated, as Rivers and Carny began to march him toward the cliff.

"NO! Please...you can't take him from me!" Mary screamed, as she tore away from her father and hurried after them, but his men blocked her way. Leopold grabbed her arm and she yelped, as he slapped her face.

"You will learn your place, Mary…" he growled, as he held her arms and looked at her.

"Oh yes...you will learn your place," he leered and she spit in his face at that.

"Any final goodbyes...because now is the time," Rivers said, as he aimed the gun at David, as they arrived at the cliff. He would be shot and then his body would fall into the river, probably never to be found.

"The day I met you was the best day of my life. I love you so much...and I love our children," he said, as a few tears slipped down his cheeks.

"You're going to lose your life for me," she sobbed.

"It would have been better if you had never met me," she said. But he shook his head.

"No...my life became complete, because of you. You're worth all this and more, you and our babies," he said tearfully, as she sobbed uncontrollably.

"If I lose my life for love...well, I can think of no better reason to die. I just regret that I won't be there to protect you anymore," he replied.

"I love you...I'll love you for eternity. And I'll find you...I'll find you in our next life or whatever is after this one," she promised. He smiled.

"I know you will...and I'll be waiting for you," he said, as he prepared to take his final breath once he heard the gun cock. But several shots rang out, before David could be shot. Rivers and Carny fell dead to the the ground. The five other goons with them sprayed bullets into the woods from where the sniper shots had come from. David wasted no time and grabbed one of the guns and picked off three more, while holding his weapon on Leopold and Fiona. The last two went down, as Rogers and Weaver emerged from the woods.

"You two really like to wait until the very last minute," David quipped, as he saw that Leopold still had a firm grip on his wife's arm.

"Stay back…" he warned.

"Let her go, you sick bastard," David growled.

"You won't dare shoot me now...not while I have her," Leopold said, as he brandished his own gun.

"Let's go, my dear...our car is waiting," he said, as he started to move away from them. Suddenly...he heard a growling and Mary tore away from him, just as a wolf came out of nowhere and began to maul her father. Mary gasped and turned away from the carnage, as the wolf proceeded to rip him apart.

"It's about time you got here," David said, as he shielded her and Emma from the sight. Graham smirked and whistled, calling the animal back to him.

"Even I noticed when a bunch of goons dressed in black are moving around town," he drawled, as he proceeded to hug them both. Mary gently peeked around her husband and saw that her father was still alive, bloodied and mangled, as he tried to get to his feet. She gasped, as she saw him crawling toward Carny's discarded gun.

"David!" she cried, as he grasped at in a last attempt to shoot her husband, but Weaver was quicker and pumped three bullets into his chest. Leopold fell back and off the cliff side, into the river. She felt herself breathing a sigh of relief at that, as horrible as it was, but considering all the things he was about to do, she decided that she was entitled to that relief.

"It's over, my darling…" he promised, as Rogers hurried over to them.

"Good to see you both are okay," he said, in relief, as he hugged them both.

"It's good to see you too...how's Alice?" Mary asked. He smiled.

"You can see for yourself. She and Roni are back at the diner," he told her, as they watched Graham cuff the Mayor.

"You are under arrest, Mayor Gold," he announced.

"You set this up," she spat at Weaver.

"I knew when I sent them here that you'd spill the secret to Leopold. You both fell for it all, hook, line, and sinker," he said, in a pleased tone.

"Wait...you planned all of this?" David asked incredulously. Rogers snorted.

"Of course you did," he deadpanned.

"Relax...you were never in as much danger as it seemed, but I couldn't let anyone else in on it if it was going to work," he assured.

"Well played, my son…" Fiona complimented.

"The district attorney will have me out in no time, though," she added.

"Wrong mother...I have enough to make sure you go away for life. The whole case is already on the way to Augusta and the police department there will be here in the morning to escort you to prison upstate for trial. I doubt it will go your way," Weaver responded.

"Wait...she's your mother?!" David exclaimed.

"How is that? She looks younger than you," Rogers added.

"Nevermind...let's get this little one and our mother-to-be back to town. Roni is probably pacing a hole in the floor of that little diner," Weaver said, as they followed him, just as his cleanup crew arrived to take care of the bodies. It was mind boggling and surreal, but it was all over now, for good. David and Mary smiled at each other, as they realized there would be no more running in their future. Just happiness and family now that the shadow of her evil father was no longer hanging over them.

"I love you…" she sniffed, as he held her close to his side as they walked. Emma was calm again and falling asleep in her father's arms.

"I love you too, my darling," he whispered, as they shared a tender kiss

"Oh my God...there you are!" Roni cried, as they entered the diner. Mary rushed to her and they shared a tight hug.

"I've missed you," Mary confessed. Roni sniffed.

"I've missed you too," she replied, as Alice ran to her father.

"Papa!" she called, as she toddled to her father and he swept her up.

"Hello starfish," he cooed, as he cuddled her.

"Well, I'm not sure what happened out there, but I sense it was quite an ordeal. I hear our town has been saved though, so dinner is on the house while you tell me the whole story," Granny announced, as they found a large table and sat down together. It felt like family again and she smiled, as Roni took Emma from her, finally meeting her properly for the first time. They sat down together and for the first time since they had left Seattle, Mary and David felt true relief. They were safe now and they were going to stay that way, for the threat hanging over them was lifted at last. Now, they could just simply be a family and in love. She rested her head against his shoulder, as they ate and drank happily with the people they considered family, including their new friends they had made in Storybrooke. This was home now and they would never have to run from it again...

#Snowing #SnowxCharming #Charming family #feat little Emma #Modern AU #Evil Leopold #Roni #Weaver #Rogers #Alice #romance #family #adventure #witness protection

4 notes · View notes

hecate-herself · 5 years

Note

Irene having to step out for some Library business for an indeterminable amount of time, and Kai having to take care of Ophelia single-handedly? (Bonus if he gets so fed up that he has to call in "reinforcements," a.k.a. an equally clueless Vale, in). 💜

Kai tried to soothe the girl, pacing up and down the hallway, bouncing her but no matter what he did, she wouldn't stop. When Vale knocked on the door he called out for him to let himself in. Vale winced when he heard the hysterics.

"What's wrong with her?" He asked, hanging up his coat and hat. Kai sighed.

"She's hungry. But Irene isn't here and she doesn't want to feed from a bottle. I can't get her to eat or calm down. Irene's not back until tonight if I'm lucky."

"What happened?"

"I don't know. She said it was an emergency, and she'd explain when she got back." Kai said and Vale nodded. "She didn't want to go. It's the first time since she was born. Irene is meant to be on leave for another six months!" Kai was getting frustrated with the whole situation.

"What are you trying to feed her? She's far too young for anything but milk." Vale said with a frown.

"We have some baby formula from a more high tech alternate." Kai explained. When Vale looked confused he carried on. "It's a powder that you mix with water, essentially everything in breast milk that a baby needs, minus the mother being there."

"Have you fed her it before?" Kai shook his head.

"We only got some incase Irene had any trouble feeding her." Kai said.

"That's probably why she doesn't like it the, she isn't used to it." Vale gently picked the baby up out of his arms. "Go and mix a bottle, I'll see if I can get her to drink it." Kai reluctantly let him take her. And did so. When he returned, Vale was sat in the sitting room, when Irene usually sat. He gave him the bottle and Vale examined it.

"I would have thought Winters would have refused to leave." Vale said as he put the bottle to Opehelia's lips. She turned her face away, to scream against his chest. "She's incredibly protective."

"She is." Kai said. "But I don't think that Irene was given the opportunity to argue, or whatever she was told was very persuasive." He looked pained at the sounds of his daughter's screams. Vale reached into his pocket and withdrew a tiny stuffed cat and Opehelia's eyes went wide and she reached for it. Vale took the opportunity of her being calm to press the bottle to her lips again and she let him, starting to slowly suckle on it, before more eagerly feeding. Kai sighed, slumping in a chair.

"Thank you." He said tiredly. "I was going out of my mind."

"She just needed a distraction." Vale said, letting her take the toy from his hands, squeezing it. Kai looked at it. "I saw it at a market stall and thought she may like it." Kai chuckled. "Shut up." Vale say Ophelia up on his lap once she had finished the bottle. "Is that much better?" He asked, right as she coughed up milk all over his shirt. His eyes went wide as Kai laughed loudly.

"She does that a lot." Kai said, getting up to scoop her up and use his handkerchief to clean her face. He cooed at her and she clapped her hands. "Are you happy you spit up on your uncle?" He asked and she laughed. "I'll get you a clean shirt and you can use the shower."

"Thank you." He said. "She often does that?"

"You're meant to burp babies after feeding them, sometimes they spit up. You get used to it. And accept the fact that you have to do laundry three or four times a week." Kai said with a shrug. "Let's get you a new shirt, and Ophelia changed too. Hopefully, it's easy sailing from here on out." He had spoken too soon and ruined the whole day.

She didn't like having her nappy changed, and she didn't like the clean clothes Kai dressed her in. Both men took turns in carrying her around the house, she was a little quieter when moving then when she was still, but it wasn't much better. They managed to get her to drink another half bottle before she refused to drink any more. Vale's ideas had ended with managing to get her to take the first bottle.

Kai made dinner for them as Vale bounced Ophelia on his lap. Her screams slowly turned into cries, before whimpers and Kai looked over. "I think she is finally falling asleep." He said softly, before sighing as she sleepily blinked. She had Irene's eyes, soft brown, but her hair was black like Kai's it was still short and soft, but he hoped it would curl like Irene's did when she didn't want to tie it up. As a general rule, Ophelia was only in the next room at most. So he brought down her moses basket to lay her down to sleep in, and thankfully, she didn't start screaming when he put her down. Both men relaxed.

"I'm sorry for taking your day." Kai said, Vale shook his head.

"Glad I could help." He said. "Do you think she'll stay asleep?"

"Until she's hungry again." He said. "She usually feeds every three hours during the day, she has more in the evening and usually sleeps for about five or six hours at night now. Not quite all the way through but it means that Irene and I get a bit more rest now then six months ago when she was hungry every hour." He smiled down at her. "I can't believe how much smaller she was when she was when she was born. How much she has grown." She sneezed and he tensed for screams, but they didn't come. "It looks like she wore herself out." He remarked. "Maybe there is a god." Vale snorted. "I cannot wait for Irene to be home."

"Because Ophelia is calmer when she's around?"

"I am usually the one not here." Kai admitted. "But also because I miss her. I've been at her side nearly every day for over a year now, since we found out that she was expecting. I am pathetically co-dependent, and I love it." Vale shook his head.

"You too can be your typical married couple at some times."

"I suppose we are. Maybe we'll even get married at some point."

#The invisible library #Fanfiction

7 notes · View notes

thejacketandthehook · 5 years

Text

Breaking Dawn 6/?

Title: Before Dawn

Author: thejacketandthehook (aka everystareverywhere)

Summary: Emma Swan and Killian Jones only had one thing in common: Emma’s best friend and Killian’s brother were dating. But Emma and Killian could not get along. That was, until the day they had to work together through a tragedy that no one saw coming.

Rating: General (but that will change to Mature in later chapters)

Word Count: 22,955

Disclaimers: I own absolutely nothing.

Author’s Notes: So, I’ve been in the mist of writing this particular story for almost two years. And I’m hoping that if I have support, I’ll be more motivated to finish it. So my story is based off of the movie “Life As We Know It” starring Katherine Heigl and Josh Duhamel. And below is the first chapter. I hope you enjoy.

You can also read it here: A03

@searchingwardrobes

When you lived with someone, it became easier and easier to learn the little things about them. Things that no one else was privy too, or was even aware of. And there were things about Killian Jones that Emma came to realize. And most of them were actually good things, even though she couldn't believe that. For instance, she was surprised to learn that unlike her, Killian was actually a morning person. Which was a good thing, considering that he worked on the docks and often had to be there just as the sun was rising. He was also up by the time Henry started to stir, so that also was a major plus for him. Also, that he never drank coffee. Not that he was much of a tea person, but coffee was something that just "tasted disgusting." Emma almost dropped her coffee mug when he proclaimed that one morning. Also, he was exceptionally neat. Everything had its place, and it just made sense to keep it all organized.

And he could cook. Not just heat up some spaghetti and meatballs cook, but actually cook. She was stunned when one day she came from home work to the house smelling like meat, garlic, and onions. Emma almost floated to the kitchen, her nose her guide as she took in that magnificent smell. For someone who basically lived off of ramen noodles, the smell coming from the kitchen might as well have been from heaven. Her mouth watered, her stomached growled (she didn't even realize she was hungry) and her mind could think of nothing but what was making that wonderful smell. She was expecting to see Mary Margaret in the kitchen - as sexist as that sounded, Emma was certain that Mary Margaret could cook like a master chef; she just had that look. So she was stunned when she saw Killian actually putting a huge pan of something into the oven and look over his shoulder as he closed it. "Ah," he said, either ignoring Emma's jaw that hit the floor, or not noticing it. "Dinner should be ready in about a half hour. The mashed potatoes have to turn a slight golden color."

"What are you--" There was so much moisture in Emma's mouth, it was almost embarrassing. She was acting like Pavlovs' freaking dogs! "What are you making?"

"Sheppard Pie. A classic back in England." He wiped his hands on the towel beside the stove before working on the dishes that piled up in the sink.

Emma dropped her bag on the table and said, "I got it. I'll do the dishes. After all, you made dinner."

He smiled. "I can live with that." He stepped aside and wiped his hands again.

But the surprises just kept on coming.

"Wait, you can play the guitar?" Emma asked dumbly almost a month after Mrs. Gold's appearance. She watched Killian take a guitar out of the case and put the strap for it around his body.

He raised an eyebrow and looked up at her from under his hooded brows. He looked back down as he started to tune it. "See how I'm holding a guitar and currently tuning it, that could give you some indication."

"Just because I know how to turn an engine on doesn't mean I'm a racecar driver," she responded, crossing her arms tightly across her chest.

He chuckled light. "Touché."

Or the fact that he knew how to sail a boat. And not a little motorboat, no, but an actual boat, with sails and such. He's talked about bringing Henry out onto the water with him, but that Emma put her foot down. She's sure that he's great at sailing, but doing so with a baby a little over a year old? No. That she would not agree to.

"Why don't you come too?" he would ask.

Emma would shake her head no, with no explanation, and leave the room.

Of course, though there were things about Killian that made her raise an eyebrow. He had traits that continually got under her skin.

His language was something that Emma had to continually tell him to watch, especially since Henry should be saying his first coherent word any day now. Emma would die if his first coherent word was "bloody."

He also kept forgetting that he wasn't living in a bachelor pad anymore. He would hog the television for hours, watching a soccer match after soccer match. Emma had no idea how he could stand to watch people running around after a ball and call that entertainment.

What drove her crazy, in all honestly, was how freaking amazing he was with Henry. Sometimes, just a few times, Emma watched Killian with Henry and in the back of her mind she could see why Elsa thought she and him would have been good together. He loves Henry, that's a no brainer. And he doesn't mind being silly, if it makes the baby laugh. Killian's favorite thing to do was to blow on Henry's tummy, make him squeal and laugh at the same time. And in moments like that, Emma smiled because she forgot that her best friend was gone and she was suddenly taking care of their house, their child, what should have been their future. When she saw Killian with Henry, she almost wanted to turn around and tell Elsa that maybe he wasn't so bad. She would never admit that she liked him, but she could say that she more than tolerated him.

Emma wasn't the only one who was surprised at learning the little things about Killian. The man himself was shocked to learn the little tidbits that made up Emma Swan. Like how she was not a morning person. Get her up before seven, and you might as well be asking for a suicide mission. One morning, when Henry was crying nonstop while Killian was in the shower, she had gotten up to take care of him. Killian was surprised when he walked into the kitchen, rubbing his wet head with a towel, to find Emma still in her pajamas (a baggy shirt and boxer shorts that made his heart speed up in a way he really didn't like), her hair a huge mess and black circles under her eyes while Henry was nipping at the pieces of bagel as he sat in his highchair. When she saw Killian, she muttered, "Yours" as she passed him, presumably going back up to bed. For reasons he didn't know, he couldn't stop thinking about that morning for weeks.

Or that she was messy. She left dirty cups in the sink and it seemed like her supply of shoes just kept multiplying. Though he didn't really like going into what they called her bedroom (which at one time was the guest room), he had to once to put jewelry back in her room before Henry got it. Though the bed was made, the rest of the room liked like a bomb exploded; clothes everywhere, shoes that he was sure she stepped on continuously, and a garbage can overflowing with trash.

She also ate like she was in high school. If Emma had her way, they would eat nothing but grilled cheese sandwiches and onion rings. While Killian agreed that both of those things were amazing, neither one of them could (or should) eat that every day. When he inquired what she did with Walsh, she simply shrugged and said, "We discuss what take-out we're going to get. Neither of us cook."

But he also noticed how, when she got home from the work, the first thing she did was go over to kiss Henry on the head. Whether he was sleeping, watching television, or just babbling to himself, she always kissed him on the head. Or that at least once a week, she needed to have a glass wine at dinner. Or she was always ordering stuff for Henry through Amazon. He didn't know why he liked knowing these things about her; he just did. It almost tickled him to know that he was probably the only person who knew that Emma cried whenever that commercial about the two people falling in love over gum came on. Okay, maybe "cried" was the wrong word; more like she teared up. Point being that she was a woman who had a lot of walls up and she didn't like to show too much emotion. So when she did around him, he felt honored. Like he was being rewarded for good behavior or something. He liked it.

What he didn't like was the Walsh probably knew what she looked like first thing in the morning too. Or that she was messy. Or that she licked Nutella off of a spoon when she was stressed. She watches The Princess Bride (and had the whole movie memorized) when she's upset. He knew he was the only one who saw her get emotional, because he knew what she was like around other people. But when you live with someone, you can't put your walls up 24/7. And he liked that. He liked that he saw her tear up, show emotions.

He just couldn't understand why he didn't like Walsh knowing things about her too. It was like he wanted to keep her a secret or something. He didn't want other people knowing things about her. It was stupid, idiotic. He told himself that constantly. But that didn't stop the pang of something deep in his gut when he saw her stumbling into the kitchen and automatically going to the coffee maker. Because Walsh, he was sure, has seen her like that. And he didn't like it. Not one bit.

He told Robin about his problems, during one of his nights off that he got. Emma and he kept pretty close to their schedules, which helped trying to balance their once normal lives for what they were living now.

Robin, however, was useless. He just simply chuckled and told Killian that Emma was getting under his skin. "Better watch it, mate," he said, gulping his beer. "You might find yourself falling for her."

"Not bloody likely," he said, gulping his drink as well.

~*~

Emma forgot it could get this hot.

It was a muggy and humid 95 degrees Fahrenheit, and it only day two of what to seemed to be the week literally from Hell.

"Good Lord, I didn't think Maine could get this hot," Killian said one late evening. He stood in front of the small fan that they found in the basement, trying to cool himself off.

"I can't believe they didn't have central air," Emma commented, bouncing Henry on her lap, though how he kept laughing was beyond her. Her lap was all sweaty, and he himself had small sweat beads along his forehead. When she noticed that, she quickly wiped at it with a damn towel before giving him his bottle filled with water.

"It's an old house, Swan. The cost of that would have been outrageous. Plus, who knew it could ever have such a long heat wave in Maine?"

"The meteorologists say we've broken a new record,"

"Well, I will always remember where I was the week we had a heat wave that broke a record," he said, moving away from the fan before clasping in the chair. His shirt was undeniably soaked through, and Emma most certainly was glad he didn't take it off. Because she didn't need to see him with his hair chest glory. Not that she knew what he looked like without a shirt--Wait, no. That wasn't actually true. There was that one summer that Liam and Elsa took Killian and Emma to the beach once. They only did it once because Emma and Killian fought so much, no one really could enjoy themselves. She even commented when he took his shirt off that no one wanted to see that. He gave a remark that made her roll her eyes and stick her tongue out at him.

"I'm sorry," Elsa had remarked after she watched their exchange. Liam and Killian were walking over to the water, and Emma was so happy to have a few minutes of quiet. However, she could tell from Elsa's tone that what she was about to say would not be a genuine apology, but rather a comment. "But are you two twelve-years-old?"

Suffice to say, neither Emma nor Killian went with them to the beach again.

Killian continued with his rant. "I was in a house with no air conditioner, sweating my --"

"Killian," Emma said sternly before purposely looking down at Henry who was watching his uncle with the upmost fascination.

He changed paths. "Sweating profusely."

"There is an air conditioner," Emma finally remembered.

"What? Where?"

She took a deep breath. "In the Master."

Killian's eyes looked up towards the stairs. "Oh."

They were silent. It had been four months since....the funerals, and neither of them have stepped foot inside of that room.

Henry started munching at his hands, getting them all wet. "Oh, he's biting his hands again." Killian got up and went to the freezer to get him his teething toy.

Killian gave him the toy, and Henry started happily biting at it. "We have to do it, Swan."

"I know."

"For Henry's sake."

"Of course."

Killian walked over to the stairs. Emma picked Henry up and held him against her hip. "We can do this," she told him, as well as herself.

"I know. It's just..."

She took his hand in her empty one and squeezed before dropping it. "I know."

He nodded. She did know. That's why doing this with her, just going into this room...She knows what that means. No one else would truly understand, but she gets it.

They went upstairs and walked down the hallway together. When they got to the room, Killian took a deep breath before opening the door. It creaked and slowly opened. Emma straighten Henry on her hip before fixing her shoulders and walked into the room.

She almost wanted to walk right back out.

Here's the thing with unexpected deaths: everything looks normal on the surface. And that's what killed Emma. Because everything looks normal. Elsa's make-up table was waiting for her to come back. In fact, her little stool was pushed back just enough, probably from the last time she sat in it. Liam's shoes were lined up in front of the closet, waiting for him to come back and pick one to wear. The remotes for the television and Amazon Fire were sitting on top of each other on the nightstand, next to the book Liam was reading, a bookmark poking out of it. The pillows were crooked and Elsa's dresser had clothes sticking out of it and it was just a little too much. Because this room....This was Elsa and Liam's private place. Of course Emma was in here before, and Killian was too. Just usually with either Elsa or Liam.

Killian walked in next to Emma and took her hand. "We can do this," he reminded her. "For Henry."

The little boy in Emma's arms had no idea what was going on around him, and kept munching on the ice in his hand. Emma rubbed the back of his head as Killian stepped further into the room and over to the air conditioner. It took Killian a few seconds to figure out why it wasn't turning on ("Plugging it in usually helps." "Shut up, Swan.") but then the machine started making the sounds of turning back on and suddenly the place was finally going to cool down.

Emma sat down with Henry on the bed, the little boy dropping his ice before getting up and jumping on the bed. He was falling more than he was standing up, but he was laughing.

"Careful lad," Killian insisted before walking over to him. He held Henry's hands, who now more stable, jumped even more.

Emma couldn't relax, and instead walked over to Elsa's vanity. Elsa loved her make-up, and had more brushes that Emma had ever used in a lifetime. Though make-up was never high on Emma's list of needs, she knew how foundation worked, and mascara, and eye shadow and such. But when you get into highlighter and eyelash curler, Emma shook her head. She had no idea how those things worked, and honestly didn't care at this point. Oh, she wouldn't care if Elsa put it on her, in fact she loved those nights when Elsa wanted to test a new product on someone and Emma was a willing subject. She herself just had no idea how to use it.

"Oh, I forgot they had Netflix in here," Killian said, sitting on the bed as Henry cuddled up next to him. "What do you want to watch, lad? Mickey Mouse?"

Emma smiled over at them before going and sitting next to Henry on the bed. Henry started sucking his thumb and within minutes of watching Killian try to find something that would entertain him, he was tight asleep.

Emma leaned back on the bed, prompting herself up on the pillows. Killian then leaned back as well, and noticing that Henry was sleeping, whispered to Emma, "Want to watch anything on Netflix?"

"Are we going to Netflix and chill?" As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Emma wished for them to come back in. She closed her eyes and pursed her lips, certain that Killian was going to make some comment. After all, she opened the door to it.

But when she heard nothing but the sound of the air conditioner, she opened her eyes and saw him just looking at her with a small grin.

"Did you just position me? Because --"

"Oh, shut up," she muttered as she fidgeted.

Surprisingly, he stopped talking. She gave him a small glance (he was still grinning) before looking back at the screen. Killian was clicking through the choices before --

"That one!" she said.

He stopped before looking at her. With a raised eyebrow he asked, "Lucifer?"

She shrugged. She didn't want to admit that she had a small crush on Tom Ellis, from watching him in a British show that she had stumbled across a year ago named Miranda. She especially didn't want to point out that Tom Ellis was British, with dark hair, and (from what she saw in interviews on Youtube) was a total dork. She especially didn't want to point that out because if Tom Ellis had blue eyes, it would sound like she was describing the man sitting next to her.

"I heard it was good," was her only defense.

Killian looked at her before pressing the play button. "Let's see if you're right, Swan."

~*~

They watched the first three episodes before falling asleep during the fourth. They tried to stay awake, but the heat and a one-year-old will do that to you.

~*~

It was a Tuesday night, which meant that Emma was blessedly free. However, Mary Margaret wasn't picking up her phone and Emma really didn't feel like making small talk with Regina, so she was kind of just hanging out in her bedroom. She should go out. Go to a club for a while. Or a bar, at least. Maybe see a movie. It was weird seeing a movie by yourself, but Emma read somewhere that it was actually a wonderful experience. Or she could call Walsh and spend some time with him. She saw him on Sunday, but for some reason she just didn't want to spend another night hanging out in his apartment or going to some restaurant. She was so sick of eating out. Killian made such wonderful meals, she was actually getting spoiled.

She was thinking of maybe reading a book when she could hear the sounds of someone (hopefully Killian) running up the stairs and towards her room. Without knocking, he slammed opened the door and before she could yell at him about privacy or ask him if Henry was alright, he said, "Mary Margaret's in labor."

Emma jumped off her bed before asking, "How do you--?"

"I just saw David bringing her to the car. He said her water broke."

"Oh, they must be so thrilled! They're gonna keep us updated?"

"I asked David to do so, but I bet he's gonna be really busy."

"Right of course. We should go see them, when the baby arrives."

He nodded. "I was thinking that too. We should bring flowers. Or something."

"Maybe food. Don't women want regular food after they give birth?"

He raised an eyebrow. "How would I bloody know?"

"I just meant--I don't know either, but I'm sure that that would be a good idea."

"Whatever you say, love. I'll keep you updated."

"Yes, please."

Hours had passed and they still hadn't heard a word. Neither were too concerned, though. Emma, especially, remembered Elsa's delivery with Henry. Though Emma had been patiently waiting in the lobby for any update, she was told later by Liam that Elsa yelled insults at him that would have made a sailor blush. "But," he smiled down at his boy, "twenty hours of labor was worth it for this fellow."

"I don't see you pushing a baby out of your body," a slightly drugged up Elsa retorted.

"Nor will you ever see that." Liam then leaned down and lightly kissed his wife's forehead. "You're bloody amazing, though."

Emma was actually at work the next day, trying not to roll her eyes at Graham as he once again missed the bullseye badly, when her phone rang.

"Killian?"

"Yeah, David said she had the baby."

Emma practically bounced in her seat. "And...?"

"And what?"

"Killian!"

He chuckled. "A boy. Mummy and baby are fine."

Emma smiled wistfully. "A boy. Does he have a name?"

"No, not yet. When is your lunch break? I'll come by and pick you up."

"On what, your motorcycle?"

"No, love, the...Liam's car. I found the keys."

"Oh. I get off in--" she looked down at her watch "-half an hour."

"I'll be there."

When she hung up, Graham was looking over at her. "What?"

"Nothing. Just sounded so...domestic."

"Shut up. You try living with someone for three months and not sound domestic from time to time."

"It's not a bad thing, Emma. I'm actually quite proud of you."

"Proud?"

"Yeah. You are living a, dare I say it? Normal life with a man you can barely tolerate. I'm proud of you."

"Shut up, Graham."

Sure enough, a half hour later, Killian pulled up in Liam's CRV. Emma jumped into the passenger's seat before taking a deep breath. "Did you stop at Granny's?" She said, referring to the diner that both Killian and Emma have considered to be their second home. Which is ironic, considering that was where their first date was held.

"Aye. I got Mary Margaret a turkey sandwich, unsure if she would want to eat anything more than that. But I also got you a grilled cheese."

Emma reached behind her to pull out her sandwich as Killian backed up and pulled out of the parking lot. "Oh, my God, thank you! I've been craving one all day." As she opened the container she asked, "Henry's at day care?"

Killian gasped before saying, "Damn it! I knew I forgot something!"

Emma almost dropped her sandwich, ready to turn this car around and go back home before he chuckled. "I'm kidding, love. Aye, Henry's at daycare."

She shook her head before muttering, "I hate you."

Killian smiled, knowing that she was just saying that.

~*~

They walked quickly into the hospital, smiling from ear to ear. Emma barely remembers even asking the nurse for Mary Margaret's room number, but luckily Killian caught the number and lead her down the hallway.

Knocking gently, Emma slowly opened the door to reveal an exhausted looking Mary Margaret on the bed and David standing by the windows, gently bouncing a buddle of blankets in his arms.

"Can we come in?" she asked.

"Of course! Of course!" Mary Margaret insisted as she gestured for them to come further into the room.

"Congratulations you guys," Emma commented before going over to Mary Margaret. On sudden impulse, Emma leaned down and quickly gave the new mother a quick peck on the cheek. Mary Margaret looked surprised by this, but other than giving a small smile said nothing.

"Yes, congrats to you both," Killian said before placing the bag from Granny's on the small table in front of Mary Margaret. "We brought this, thinking you might actually want food instead of flowers."

"Oh, that's a lovely thought," Mary Margaret replied, tears gathering in her eyes. "Sorry, sorry. I'm an emotional rollercoaster right now." She reached over for a tissue before wiping her eyes and giving a small laugh. "You're gonna have to excuse me."

"Of course love," Killian said with a small smile.

"Is that him?" Emma asked as she walked over to David.

David smiled down at his son. "Yes. May I introduce you two to Mr. Leo Nolan."

Emma leaned over David, gently holding onto his shoulder. "Hello Leo. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Hi Leo," Killian said, also smiling over at the boy. He looked back over at Mary Margaret. "And how are you feeling?"

She shrugged. "Probably as good as I look."

"You look bloody amazing."

"That's what I told her!" David insisted.

Mary Margaret scoffed. "He lies and you swear to it," she said as she shook her head.

"Do you want to hold him?" David asked Emma.

"Sure!" she exclaimed before dropping her purse on the chair and holding her arms out for the newborn. She remembers the first time she held Henry, and is once again surprised by the weight of the baby. Or rather, the lack of one. "God, how can babies be so light?" she remembered asking Liam and Elsa. "I've held books heavier than him."

"Hi Leo," she said now to the baby in her arms. "It's so very nice to meet you."

"Can I hold him?" Killian asked.

"Of course," Mary Margaret said as David squeezed in next to her on the bed.

Emma handed Leo over to Killian, who gently took him in his arms. He began very gently bouncing Leo, and Emma tried very hard not to smile at the imagine.

When she looked over at the couple on the bed, she noticed David watching Killian with a small smile that new fathers can never seem to get rid of, but saw Mary Margaret looking straight at her with a smile of her own.

"What?" Emma asked, but Mary Margaret simply shook her head and looked over at Killian.

~*~

Emma and Killian were walking down the hallway talking about Leo and leading back towards the lobby when Emma turned her head to the left. It wasn't like she saw something out of the corner of her eye, or even that a voice in her head said to turn left. She just did. And she saw the hallway. The hallway that only a few months ago she, Killian, and Walsh ran down to get to the stairs. The hallway that would lead her to the biggest change in her life (and for her, that was a pretty big deal).

"Swan!?"

Emma quickly looked in front of her to see Killian about four feet ahead. He walked back, his eyebrows knitted together, concern all over his face. "Swan? Are you okay? I called you a couple of times, and you just stopped walking."

"Yeah, no. No, I'm fine. I am. I just..." She looked back down the hallway. Just like in movies, she could almost see three ghosts running down the hallway, heading towards the stairs. She wanted to burst into tears. How could she be so happy just minutes ago, so happy about a life coming into this world, when her best friend and her husband died in this very building just months ago? How could she walk into this hospital and not even pause for a moment to remember them?

Was she forgetting them?

Emma almost had to stop the gasp of breath from leaving her mouth, but knew that she couldn't stop the tears gathering up in her eyes. She was moments away from losing it, she just knew it.

Killian gently touched her arm. "Emma? Love, what is it? What's going on?"

Emma simply nodded her head towards the hallway. She knew that Killian understood, because a moment later he just simply went, "Oh."

So gently, Emma almost didn't even realize it at first, Killian put his arm around her shoulder and guided her to the exit. They said nothing, both holding back tears as they walked to the car.

When Killian unlocked the car, Emma ran towards the passenger's seat and opened the door as quickly as she could. The door hadn't even shut before she let out a loud gasp and the tears that had been threatening to fall, came quickly down her face. She took a loud breath as Killian got into the car and shut the door, his head falling back onto the head rest.

"I didn't even think about them!" she sobbed. "How could I not remember them when we got here?"

"Because of the baby," he said quietly, though she was sure that his voice was shaking. She couldn't see through the tears in her eyes, but she was certain that he was crying too.

"But I didn't give them one thought, Killian! Not one thought! What kind of friend am I?"

Killian gave no response. Or maybe he did and she didn't hear it. She was sobbing so hard, her head pounding from the lack of oxygen and how hard she was crying.

She didn't know how long she was crying in the car, whether it was a few minutes, or more like thirty, but when she calmed down enough to take deep breathes, she noticed that Killian was holding out napkins.

"Thanks," she muttered before taking them and blowing her nose in a completely unladylike manor. Then she rubbed her eyes and when she looked at the napkin, it was all smudged from her mascara. Great, she thought, I probably look like a raccoon.

She kept rubbing her eyes, reminding herself to breath as she did so. When she finally calmed down enough, she looked over at Killian. And then she wanted to break down again. Because he was not unaffected by her outburst. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was all red, probably from crying and then rubbing his face with the rough napkins.

"We're not forgetting them, Emma," he said when they both calmed down. "You're not...You're not a bad friend."

She sniffed, but said nothing.

Reaching over, he gently took her hand in his as he said, "I read...I read a quote once...'Babies remind us that time moves on.' And it's true. That's all that happened here, Emma. Leo...Leo is the future. Henry is the future. But Liam and Elsa...they are never far from my mind, and I know that Elsa is never far from yours. So, no, you're not a bad friend. You're just thinking about the future. As we all should be. And you know," he squeezed her hand as he continued, "you know that Elsa would kick your ass right now. And Liam would kick mine. We just saw a newborn baby, Emma. And that's a beautiful moment."

She nodded before doing something she never in a million years thought she would do.

She leaned over and kiss him on the cheek.

When she pulled back, she simply whispered, "Thank you." He gave her a small nod before letting go of her hand and turning on the engine.

#csfanfiction #cs ff #captain swan #fanfiction #once upon a time fanfiction #once upon a time #emma swan #killian jones

10 notes · View notes

insomniac-dot-ink · 6 years

Text

Universe Falling

genre: sci-fi fantasy, wlw

words: 7k

summary: A young scientist starts communicating with the night sky, a love story across the universe

So it looked like I was going crazy. Actually, legitimately crazy.

Not the fun kind of crazy when your great aunt takes off her wig and dips it in the stew at family dinner in order to make your uncle shut up about his problem with bell-bottom jeans. Not evil crazy like your math teacher making everyone re-do their multiplication tables eighty times in a row after one kid swore.

It was crazy crazy.

My name is Francine Wesley.

And this is how I started talking to the night sky.

————————————–

When I was twelve years old I had a transfer student ask me if I was a pirate. I’m not sure if she meant it in a bad way or not, she hadn’t learned the pecking order yet- which was me and then everyone else up ahead. She asked me if the bandage over my left eye meant I was going to get a parrot and sail the seven seas.

I wish.

It was the year of the second surgery on my left eye, trying to correct it before the smudges at the edge of my vision started to devour everything else. My glasses were -25 and took up 55% of my small face at that age.

I was 12 and playing pirates and princesses with people who didn’t know why I couldn’t catch the ball when they threw it at me.

My father bought me my first official telescope that year, the year my grandpa passed away and left me all of his star charts and a broken down radio. I fixed the radio, I built the ladder up the tallest tree in my yard.

I traced the charts he left with my fingers, taking out a magnifying glass and looking and looking.

————–

They say math is the handwriting of God, that it breaks the world down into patterns and sense and definable movements.

I wasn’t sure about that, it felt more like God’s bad treasure map, one he put a lot of effort into making particularly unreadable sometimes. My mom was a math teacher, so it both helped and didn’t help at all. I hated most my other math teachers, they taught it wrong, I wasn’t fond of imaginary numbers, I never liked pi more than the average person, infinities were a headache. That didn’t stop me from beating all the boys at pop quizzes by the time I was in algebra one.

It was easier for me I think, smoother, faster, they said I was the quickest girl this side of the Cherry Creek. I didn’t know how to respond.

I didn’t like math, but I did like being told I was good at something, I did like what I could do with it, numbers and movements and the whole universe laid out. It got easier every time I did it.

That was the year that Cindy Claire took me to her birthday party, lifting me from the depths of social rejection, she said I was too pretty for the boys to be that mean. She wove flowers into my hair and asked if I liked anyone. I told her I didn’t know and we watched a movie with the captions on right in front of the screen.

That was the nicest thing anyone had done for me and Ratatouille is a beautiful movie when you’re barely looking.

She had a button nose and a splattering of freckles that curled and crawled around her body like paint flecks. I wanted to lick it up and watch her eyes light up, green as green fields and as wild as the western sky.

I entered a math tournament, she came and got asked out by every boy there, she laughed and said she already came with someone. I might have burst from joy if everything else inside me didn’t ache.

She grabbed my hand and said we were best friends and by that time next year she was dating the man she was going to marry and I was staring at the constellations in the sky like they were freckles. It’s easy to be in love with the sky and it’s easy to feel like breaking.

My dad was teaching me how to read his books under bright lights and a giant magnifying glass, my family always said I was like him- for better and worse.

———————-

I was seventeen when I had my license taken away, I only had it for one year but my mom told me she wouldn’t risk it. Not with a -30 prescriptions.

I was my father’s daughter and she wouldn’t see me driving myself off the side of the road when a blizzard rolled in. I lived in Northern Massachusetts, it snowed a lot that year.

I went to prom with Billy Eccleston, he didn’t know my middle name and I didn’t know his, but we sat in the back of his van and made out until my mouth went numb. I told myself this was probably how it was supposed to feel.

He tried to push my dress down and I wrinkled my nose and told him I was waiting for the right moment (and this wasn’t it), he rolled his eyes and reached for my glasses next, I bat his hand away. Now I was waiting for marriage.

He snorts and asked if I was still ‘actually getting out of this town soon?’ I nodded because this is why I accepted his prom invitation in the first place. We both wanted out- we could almost relate.

We both sigh at nothing and he kisses me again as I look over his left shoulder and watch the lights dance behind the cityscape.

I applied to 8 colleges and go into 6, my mom cried and my dad patted my head and I asked if I needed anything else- anything at all. He told me to get a dorm on the first floor and that he’d be there every weekend.

I cry, just a little bit.

———————————-

Everyone thinks it’s black, black like a setting sun or black like an airtight empty room. That it’s the night, the moment when you close your eyes and every color in the world is snuffed out.

A dark curtain, the thickest shadow over the world. But it’s not. It’s white.

Bright terrible light that floods and fleets into my vision, wavering colors and streaks of pure white, distracting as it is nonsense. I grit my teeth, it’s my sophomore year of college and I am squinting at the board and screeching in my head.

I was in the front row of the lecture and the professor was writing formulas on the board like his hand was on fire. I had a growing headache in my frontal lobe, I tell myself as I narrow my eyes at the board that I just needed to go to sleep, that it would be better in the morning.

My lip trembles and I take out my phone to get a close up of the board with my camera, trying to write and zoom at the same time.

“Any questions?” The professor asks as he turns around sternly, “this last one will be on the test.”

I flinch, was it too much to ask the world to iron itself out into a flat surface instead of a series of smudges and blurs? I see the professor turn in my direction and my stomach drops as I try to fix my expression.

Professor Chadwick was the ‘hardest bitch’ in the department as they called him and I couldn’t keep asking to come closer to the board in the middle of class. Soon I would just be licking the ink off of it to figure out what he had just written.

‘WRITE BIGGER’ is always on the tip of my tongue, but I just take another picture and wait.

“Got that?” He lets out a slew of theory before pointing at the clock as class comes to a close.

I’m almost up and out of my chair faster than a snap, I hurry to the board and finish taking pictures.

“Miss Wesley,” I jump at his voice. I barely turn my head as the five foot eleven man comes up to me, portly and round with a heavy dent in his forehead. He pats me on the back, “I saw your last test.”

I gulp and my lips pinch together, “uh, is this about Mrs. Dubois contacting you? Because I promise it won’t be distracting, I’ll just keep it on my desk.”

“I don’t care if you need five enhancers miss Wesley, that was some damn fine math.”

I raise my eyebrows, “thank you. I… studied?”

He chuckles, “you’re quick.” He pats my shoulder again, “and Mrs. Gregor says she likes the way you think. How would you like to intern for the department this summer?”

I blink only a couple times, “really?”

He nods with a sniff, “I see bright things in your future.”

My mouth was a little open and resist making the joke that I would be seeing a lot of bright things in my future too. I just nod instead, “thank you! Yes, I’d love to.”

That is the year I start working for Professor Chadwick and the university, it’s also the year that the government declares me legally blind.

—————————–

I had seven coworkers, two interns, and one sandwich place next to the observatory.

I was turning 28 in March and I hadn’t had a boyfriend since the last disaster of 2021. I was with sitting my back to the computers and a sandwich in my hand dripping mustard onto my lap.

The radio was on, playing ‘Winds of Fire’ as loud as it possibly could as I hear Sai Bhatia tapping her foot like she wanted to start a miniature cockroach band on the floor with it.

I moan loudly into my sandwich to let her know that it was both alright to take a break and hopefully expected. I had a feeling she resented me, but I also had a feeling that my next door neighbor was trying to summon ghosts in my driveway, so I wasn’t always a great judge of circumstance.

I was 27 and that still felt like it meant something.

“Woah,” both me and Sai pause as we hear a voice gasp from the other room. “Woah!” I sit up straight, “Dr. Wesley,” he says shrilly, “oh man, Dr. Bhatia!”

My skin was prickly as I stand up straight, “Rory, my boy, use your words.”

I hear some stumbling and chair screeching from the other room, “come look at this!”

I navigate my way into the next lab room, Rory, our grad student intern was standing next to the ROSTA computer and gesturing. I squint my eyes down and look both ways.

“Can you read it to me?”

“Yes, but you’re going to have to take a seat for this.”

I shake my head, “let’s get to the reading first, then we can see if any chairs need to be involved.”

“Let me see,” Dr. Bhatia clicks her heels over in a few strides, “did you locate the nearest asteroid cluster wavelengths?”

“No, but this electromagnetic field is enormous, and… weird? Really read. Listen to this,” he starts reading off the numbers and I perk up.

I only start leaning forward and my thoughts start racing, “This is saying it’s only a couple light years away, how the hell is that so close?” I turn to him, “Have we ever seen this before?”

He makes a couple non-committed gestures and points, “I’ve recorded it, we have to send this immediately.”

I nod quickly, “I’m going to scan some journals to see if this has ever been recorded before, how fast is it moving?”

“Dunno,” he shrugs, “but the camera picked up on some objects in it too.”

“Comets?” Dr. Bhatia was glancing over the numbers too.

“Dunno.”

I ruffle Rory’s bright red head, “hang in there kid.”

“Promise I’ll keep looking!”

I laugh and crack my knuckles, “let’s get to work.”

That was the first night, and it was a very long one at that.

—————–

Rory left around 3am, he said he needed to get back to his girlfriend, but even I could tell there were bags weighing his eyes down and a slump to his shoulders. And that was saying something.

Dr. Bhatia left just before dawn, not because she wanted to but because she hated the only donut place that delivered to our facility and someone had to eat a proper meal she said.

I was waiting expectantly for my Krispy Kremes when it hit six in the morning on a chilly fall day. I heard it first.

A radio buzz, bursting and calling as if this was a 1950s spy movie and the Russians were trying to jam our equipment, my eyebrows spike. I go to turn on the audio function to read the recent findings and digital images.

I pause when I start hearing the same repeating numbers: 01101000 01100101 01101100 01101100

I furrow my brow, “what the hell?”

I bend down and try to squint at one of the digital pictures from our probe, I make a face. It was a very pink, a very large and pink blur.

Our mother university had called and told us to keep on an eye on the phenomena, it might be just a series of comets with some odd readings, but I was staring at something entirely different now. I couldn’t quite make sense of it, or make it out. But it was pink and bright.

01101000 01100101 01101100 01101100

I shouldn’t be getting numbers in this way.

“Okay computer,” I say stiffly, “but why?”

I sit down to start looking for the main patterns in the data as the numbers keep repeating and repeating.

—————————

I was going crazy, legitimately crazy.

There was only one pattern in the repeating readings of the magnetic field that made any sense, it was binary, of course it was binary. And it didn’t make any sense, why would our computer translate coordinates into binary?

Why would it read it out over and over? Our stuff was either breaking OR, unfortunately, the sky was somehow writing ‘hello’ to me.

Which was either first alien contact or a very sad local news article: bravely differently-abled scientist makes her way to the nut house.

Sky’s. Didn’t. Say. Hello.

Especially comets, what even lived in comets? There was a lot about the universe we didn’t know and the sudden small chance this was it sent a giddiness through my veins like no other.

It was new. It was never seen before. I don’t go home that night.

————–

I wake up on my desk the next morning in a puddle of my own drool and in front of a whole slew of numbers and a binary-language program open on my computer. Alongside a whole box of Krispy Kremes as the site of a tragic graveyard massacre of crumbs.

“What are these?” I hear a new voice enter and I wipe at the crust in my eyes.

“We’re being visited by aliens, haven’t you heard?” I yawn, “they’re very pink.”

“No, I mean, really, what am I looking at?” Dr. Chadwick had returned to the facility.

I crack my neck and stand up, “hell if I know.”

“Haha.”

“Just a little joke for your morning doctor.”

He sniffs loudly, “please come in here.”

I find my glasses and lurch my way to the room that I had just spent the last eleven hours in. I clear my throat, “Did you see the readings? It’s like the computer is possessed or something.”

“And by that you mean possessed by an angry ghost that erases our equipment?”

My eyebrows shoot up, “what?”

“Tell me what you see? And no, that isn’t a joke invitation.”

I lower my face into the paper and see nothing but an empty blackness. It was empty, a nothing, a black picture.

My head falls down, “what.. What?”

I was going crazy.

——————————-

I try not to be at the office the next day. Or the next.

I take some time off to scroll through my tinder notifications and visit the nearest pool to just sort of stick my feet in and sit in the sauna room until I melt. It was funny I left my small town in Massachusetts just enter another smaller town in Maine.

Who even went to Maine?

Scientists and bad decisions.

All of the data from the night before had been scrambled, we had still sent off the original points of magnetic radiation, but we were told it was just a phenomenon. An off reading.

I still had a couple handwritten notes, sloppy, large, and with one word in the middle: HELLO.

Fuck, hello. I tried that one on a few of my tinder matches and it didn’t quite feel the same after hearing it from the sky. Aliens existed and so did English binary in space apparently.

Or ghosts that knew computer binary and possessed equipment. Stars that could speak. The end of the world? And I was that one scientist who had to warn everyone about the danger and yet no one would believe me.

The film tagline: The Blind Girl Saw it All! But No one Could believe their eyes. The stars were speaking now, and they were pissed. Disaster movie 2028.

I lie on my belly in the sun and listen to an audio book about magic and intrigue. It was my second time trying to finish the Wheel of Time series and I was halfway asleep in the grass.

Something buzzes inside me: I should send something back, I blink a couple times. I should definitely try and send something.

Said every normal person right before they are eaten by space monsters.

I roll over and crawl over to my porch, it was time to break out my old CB radio that my grandfather left me. I take my time arranging the frequency and sitting on my roof that night, thinking, writing.

I tap out one clear, dotted message: hello.

I knew it wouldn’t carry very far, but somehow that wasn’t the point for me. I wait.

————————

It was the next day when I hear Dr. Bhatia in the next room. “I’m leaving.” She says loudly, “I’m not doing this again.”

I lift my eyebrows and turn around toward the computer room. “More weird numbers?”

Her heels click as she walks in, “it’s getting closer. I emailed the data points away quickly this time, but the second time I looked they all came up blank.”

I wrinkle my nose, “we’re being haunted.”

She sniffs, “And I’m not going to be the first brown person eaten in the movie.”

I laugh, “it’s okay. I’ll be the blind girl that tragically stumbles into the queens nest first and gets fed to her young.”

Dr. Bhatia snickers to herself, “yeah. And then Rory saves the day, it’s a blockbuster.”

We laugh together and I’m hoping the passive aggressive PhD comparisons fades. Even if I did get magna cum laude a year ahead of her- just for the record.

She pats me on the back, “go home too.”

“No way,” I stand up and crack my back, “finding new and unusual things is why I’m in the field. I’m like Velma from scooby doo, but sexier.”

“Sure,” she leans over my chair and points at my glasses, “an appropriate comparison.”

I grin, “extra hours never hurt.” I sing and I can make out her shaking head.

“I’m calling maintenance tomorrow to check for pigeons in the observatory dish again.”

I laugh, “I love talking to pigeons you know.”

She pats me on the back and the only thing left to do was hurry over to the next room, I turn on the audio readings and take out a pen. I jot down the numbers faster than the computer can speak.

It reverted once again from its usual numeral coordinates back into ones and zeroes. It was happening again.

But it was different.

Night number two: ‘can you hear me? Can you hear me? Can you hear me?’

I use the lab radio this time: yes, yes, yes. Yes.

The hard drive is all blank in the morning. Everything from the emails to outdoor cameras in the parking lot were left blank.

Maintenance was sent in twice, Rory jokes that the FBI was coming next with Scully and Mulder.

I tell him he’s Mulder already and that apparently makes his week and he makes coffee for me first for the rest of the night. But my skin is crawling, I wait for them to leave again.

Our equipment was breaking or I was talking to something, I consider bringing in more experts, new pairs of eyes to watch me contact it. But I have feeling it wouldn’t speak then, and I have a deeper fear that I didn’t want anyone else to see it anyway.

I wait until 3am, tapping, looking, waiting, the computer starts reading binary again, I translate quickly through my other computer.

‘I’ve seen you before, I’ve seen you before, I’ve seen you before.’

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. So this is the part of the movie where the alien comes down and uses me as it’s first meat puppet.

But it was also the part of the movie where every part of my being lights up.

‘Where? Why are you deleting our files? What are you doing? Who are you?’ I had prepared all of these binary questions the day before.

I only get back one word: ‘again. Again. Again.’

I hold my breath and write down as much as I can with pen and paper. The equipment is blank as a newborn baby the next day but I have the one word: again.

——————————-

November 10th 2028: the messages start. And it’s not possible, it should not be quick or easy or fast.

I knew something was wrong. But the binary in the sky comes back just as I type out a new message on the lab radio.

‘It’s been so long.’

‘How long?’ I ask, ‘Where are you?’

‘Too long.’

‘What do you see?’

‘You. It’s been so long.’

‘That’s kind of freaking me out.’ I finally tell whatever it is the truth.

‘Haha.’ I get back some sort of strange binary laugh. ‘I don’t mean to. You’re so small this time.’

‘Now you are really freaking me out. Why are you deleting the data?’

‘Goodnight my love.’

I don’t sleep that night or the next day or wonder why ‘my love’ was written in my notes as if my fingers were going through an earthquake. Of course, I could finally add: ‘at least the sky loves me’ on my next dating profile.

——————

November 11th 2028:

I ask first this time.

‘Do you have a name?’

‘Of course.’

‘Can you tell me?’

‘You may call me Heaven’

I sit up in my chair and my mouth hangs up, “Oh fuck,” I swear up and down and suddenly stop being an atheist for a second.

‘Heaven?’

‘Haha.’ I get back the same metallic laugh.

‘Heaven?’ I send again.

‘No.’

‘You made a joke.’

‘You are very funny when you are surprised.’

‘Can you see me?’ I write first.

‘Can you see me?’ Is the return.

I send a very short message, ‘let’s just say ‘no.’

‘You may call me ‘Texca’ until we meet again.” I translate the name over and over again until it looks like I got it right.

‘Texca?’ I send out quickly, some part of me knows it shouldn’t be this quick. It was light years away.

‘Yes. What is yours?’

‘What do you mean by ‘until we meet again?’ It was a long message to get out, it was almost five in the morning now.

‘That is a very long name.’

‘Haha. My name is Francine.’ I tell her quickly and the response is immediate.

‘Francine, Francine, Francine.’

‘Please,’ I type, hoping that weird ghost/deities/aliens knew begging. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Francine.’ Is written back, ‘goodnight my love.’

I lie on the floor and trace lines in the ceiling. I was surely losing it, but they would have to come shut me down before I stop.

——————-

November 12th 2028.

‘Francine.’ She (I now call it she) messages first.

‘Good morning!’

‘It really is.’

‘Is it morning where you are?’ I try to decipher where she is.

‘It’s always morning when I see you.’

‘Oh.’ My hands hover over the ‘dot dot’ button. ‘Are you making more jokes?’

‘No.’ Texca writes.

‘Can you really see me?’ I write again.

‘Yes,’ it says, ‘yes, yes, yes.’

‘How?’

‘You are very much a scientist.’

‘You know what a scientist is?’

‘I know what you are.’

‘Where are you?’

‘Up above.’

‘Okay?’

‘You’re confused.’

‘Yes!’

‘Haha,’ it said again and I sigh heavily, ‘give it time my love.’

‘I am frowning. Do you know what a frown is?’

It took a good ten minutes for me to translate the next couple messages, I groan when I find the right combination.

‘:)’

‘An alien with a sense of humor,’ I write back and stretch out as I savor my time in the ethers of nonsense. Of the impossible.

‘A human with one too.’

‘How are you doing this?’

‘Keep looking.’

‘Where?’ I sit up completely, ‘where?’

‘Goodnight my love.’

I put my head in my hands, hunch over and then groan so loudly I think it echoes off the lab walls.

I’m looking for something in a forest of weeds it feels like, no up, no down, just roots and questions.

———————

“So,” Sai Bhakti was sitting with her back up straight a pastry in her hand, “I hear you’ve been keeping long nights.”

I put my elbows on the table and lean forward, “can’t we talk about Game of the Thrones or something? We’re out of work for once.”

She cracks a smile, “I just hear you’re talking to ghosts.”

I sniff, “The ghost of the second monitor? I guess so.”

She pushes a pastry over to me, “God. We really did need to be kicked out of that office. Thank God for maintenance days.”

I bat a pastry back and forth in my hands, “do you think there’s a chance… I dunno, it’s not broken?”

She makes a face at me, “how? It’s erasing data points.”

“Well,” I frown, “there’s a lot in this universe we don’t understand.”

She leans forward, “like ghosts.”

“And aliens.”

“And bigfoot.”

I snort, “bigfoot is definitely involved.”

“You know,” she tucks a piece of long dark hair behind her ear, “you’re right. We don’t have to talk about work.”

We both stare at each other for a second and she leans back, I clear my throat, “how’s your husband?”

She shrugs, “the usual burden.” I raise my eyebrows and open my mouth, she puts her hand up, “lovable burden.”

I listen to her describe the problems of laundry day and having to share a bathroom with a man who cuts his toenails on the counter. But he made her dinner every night even on the nights she didn’t come home, so she assures me it’s working.

I nod, she starts eyeing me, “and you?” She narrows her eyes, “you’ve been more… chipper.”

“I’m always chipper,” I defend, “like a cheap socialite at an invite-only event.”

She smiles, “how’s the love life doctor?”

I stick my tongue out, “I can be chipper without another person involved.” It surely wasn’t a person anyway.

She studies me, “eat your pastry then.”

I take a bite and sigh into the sky, “okay. I mean. Something is… going on.”

“Something?”

“Something. But not like, dating something. Just something.”

“Ooh,” her features get sharp, “one that rhymes with one night hand?”

I couch on my own spit, “oh my God.”

“I’m not that young Fran.”

I crack a smile, “I mean. There have been a couple long nights,” I say mysteriously, “but nothing happens. And I think… I mean, I don’t know much about her.” Like if she had a body or ate or walked or breathed air.

I take a deep breath, “But she seems to like me? A lot?”

Sai hums loudly and sits up, “and how do you feel?”

I pause for the moment and stare up at nothing, “good?” I say slowly, “confused.”

“Ah, does she like you more than you like her?” She taps her chin again.

I tilt my head to the side, “I don’t know her.”

She shrugs, “then give it a chance.”

I smile down at my hands, “I’m not sure you’d say that if you knew her.”

Sai laughs softly, “is she odd?”

“The oddest.”

“Good,” Sai slaps her hands on the table, “you’ll match.”

I blow a stray piece of hair away from my face, “local pirate falls in love with the sky.”

She gives me a strange look, “come again?”

“Nothing.”

I wait for maintenance to check our equipment and I hope nothing changes.

————

November 15th 2028

‘How are you Texca?’ It’s the first night I have alone again.

The response is immediate, ‘where have you been?’

‘I thought you could see me?’

‘I was so worried.’

‘I’m here now. They were checking our observatory. You’ve caused quite a stir.’

‘I’m close.’

I sit up completely straight in my seat, ‘oh?’

‘I’m so close my love.’

‘Where? Where are you?’

‘Above,’ it says again and again, ‘I have something to tell you.’

‘Please,’ I say quickly, ‘yes, I am listening.’

‘I know you don’t remember.’

‘Remember what?’

‘But I am Texca,’ there is a long pause between those words, a buzz that comes across the speaker as the computer seems to almost fritz. ‘I have always loved you.’

My mouth is hanging open and I feel like the world will become completely white and empty after that second. ‘Why?’

‘Always,’ ‘always, ‘always.’

A screech comes over the speakers, the two programs working together to translate the binary into words starts showing numbers, symbols, nonsense, gibberish.

‘Always, always.’ It forms a simple elegant formation. And one last word, in English, no filter. ‘SOON.’

I hold my breath and wonder if this is when I walk into the alien queen’s lair and get eaten. I knew then that I would go willingly.

“Soon,” I whisper the word to myself like an electric thrill, something was happening, something I could never explain.

I fall asleep sitting against the cool wall of the observatory and try to make sense of things I see in the telescope, blurry shapes. Something pink.

———————

I wake up the next morning and the computer was smoking, Rory was dancing from foot to foot and trying to explain it to Dr. Chadwick.

“I didn’t do it!” He says shrilly, “I promise, I promise professor, please don’t fail me.”

Bob just sighs, “someone get maintenance in here again. And figure out what these damn numbers mean.”

“Wait,” I limp back up and feel the bruises on my body from spending the night against the wall.

Bob turns around, “and if it isn’t our favorite Cinderella. You do own a bed, don’t you? God knows I pay you enough.”

I shake my head, “wait.”

“Dr. Wesley didn’t do it either!” Rory defends quickly, “in fact, I did do it.”

“That’s very kind kid,” I make my way over and fumble for the audio button, “let me hear the numbers.”

“64.2008, 149.4937.”

I wipe at my face and stand up straight, I knew it in my gut. “Oh.” I blink, “someone get a map.”

“You think the numbers are for here?” The doctor asks and I nod.

“How do you know?”

I turn around, “I have to go.”

“Doctor?” Bob Chadwick turns to me, “are you alright, wait, Fran.”

I wave listlessly, “I’m taking a few days off.”

I don’t stop as they call after me, I knew it then. There was no going back.

I leave them a long note and all my coupons for the local restaurants.

————————–

The plane ride was $200 for one way since I was buying at last minute, I choose first class because why the hell not. I was treating myself as I chased strangers that were either playing the longest game prank ever. Or something else.

I was going to Nome Alaska on a Tuesday night.

The trip over is a dreamless hush of sleep that leaves me feeling empty and anxious in every crevice of my body. I was chasing something that erased data points and communicated in binary and had been watching me.

Which might say more about my mental state of being rather than things in the actual realms of possibility. But I had to go, I had to find out.

I get off at Anchorage in a wobbly daydream of consciousness and board a second tiny plane.

I sit between an old man with his cat under the seat and a teenager who talked on the phone with his mom before we took off. He was visiting his dad and she was worried about the spider bite he got last time he was there.

I almost start crying after we take off, I don’t know why.

We arrive at seven in the morning, the old man shakes me gently awake as we land and there are tear stains dripping down my cheeks again, I wipe my face and don’t say anything as I enter Nome Alaska.

It was another world if I had ever seen one, small colorful houses and empty streets. It was the middle of the winter so no one was out of their houses and very few visitors made it this far out.

I was lucky it was warmer than usual, but it still numbed my cheeks and shook my teeth to their roots as I stepped outside. I hurry to get inside the airport and pick up my simple bag- a large radio inside.

I took a long look out the airport window before tugging a hat further down on my ears and finding the nearest tourism desk.

A smiling yet surprised looking woman greets me, “Welcome to Nome Alaska! What can I do for you?”

I lift my chin up, “just a little help.”

“Will you be needing lodging miss?”

I just nod before taking a deep breath, “Yeah. Also, I have a question.”

She leans over the desk, “go right ahead.”

“Where is the best place to the see the sky around here?”

———————————–

I booked a room at a motel named ‘Linda’s’ met Linda and took a very long walk until my toes went number, which wasn’t very hard at all. I was living in Maine so I wasn’t not used to the cold.

But Nome Alaska was a different type of cold altogether. It wanted to eat you alive and leave the bones to freeze.

I kept walking.

The tour guide gave me some helpful tips: there’s a lot of great places with natural beauty around Nome! The snow and trees and little squat rural houses.

And snow.

I didn’t mind the snow and there were more stars here in this tiny chunk of the world than in all of Massachusetts combined. Nome had a glittering sky that went on in all directions, it was mostly all a big blur to me, but a beautiful one nonetheless.

I use my camera and magnify and magnify, following the path as far as it will go.

I follow it until I find a low hill with a view of the city just behind me, I sit down. I wait.

———————

November 20th.

Nothing on the radio, I call Dr. Bhatia, she says the equipment has returned to normal, though they had to throw out monitor two.

A woman at the local dinner refills my coffee five times and someone buys me a piece of cherry pie.

I pet someone’s Husky malamute in the street and wait.

———————

November 21st.

The sky is so big sometimes I’m afraid it’ll swallow me whole when I look up into it. I start shaking at night, the tear stains pepper down my cheek each morning I wake up.

There is silence at the other end of my radio and I wait. Perhaps there was a lead leak into my local water back in Maine. I dream of mad kings and beautiful pink princesses that never wake up from their enchanted slumber.

————————–

November 22nd.

Someone takes me out snowshoeing and the first winter storm rolls in that night, I don’t see any sky for days.

Linda’s says she’s going to stoke a fire in the common room if I want some strong whiskey and a game of poker. I lose thirty-two bucks that night and any sense of purpose.

“What are you doing here miss?” The man at the poker table asks twice.

I just shrug twice, “I dunno.”

They hum at that and then I lose thirty-three bucks that night.

——————–

November 25th.

The storm clears up and I don’t know how to tell the local residents that I am both Jewish and not here for Christmas. They are having a small parade in the city center nonetheless and every other person I meet tells me to come. I watch a tiny girl bundled up to her neck sing a Christmas carol as high pitched as a silver bell.

I clap, and I wait.

The sky is so large I’m afraid if I don’t hold onto something then it will suck me up into the vast cold above, sometimes I try to let go though and let it happen.

I’m afraid I really have lost my mind.

———————

December 2nd.

“They’ll be an aurora tonight,” Linda tells me that morning and I perk up, just a little bit.

“Oh,” I blink a little bit, “really?”

“I feel it. Yeah, will you still be around for that young lady?”

I hum, “I’ll try. I’ve booked a flight home on Thursday.”

She gives an old wizened smile, “shame. My son really liked your singing voice.”

I wipe my face and adjust my thick glasses, “that’s why I don’t drink whiskey anymore.”

“It’s always nice to have more people out this way!” She wipes the counter down and watches me, “for whatever reason they arrive for.”

I shrug listlessly and give an almost-smile, “early mid-life crisis.”

She chuckles, “hope it was a good one!”

I laugh, “it was.”

I wander around the city all day and hug the first loose dog I see, “do you know where you’re going sir?” I ask the dog as I pet his ears and he laps up my face.

Neither of us has much of an answer.

—————–

December 3rd.

I hear it before I see it. A buzz, a whistle, something like a whisper and a clanking sound all at once. “Told you, stranger!”

A crowd is pointing and picking up cameras, it’s night and I had missed my flight home, I start walking in the opposite direction of the crowd.

The buzzing and chiming increases like a soft caress eating away at me. I look up.

“Texca?” I call out into nothing as I hear it, the something. “Texca.”

There is something pink on the horizon, I start running, my eyes are prickling. I see the same hill I had found the first night I had arrived here.

I stumble and hobble through the snow, climbing and clawing my way to the top as I keep the colors of the night just in front of me. I can see their smears of greens and blues kissing the earth.

I squint and call, my voice rising in the wind. “Are you here!?” I raise my arms up, “were you real…?”

Maybe I already knew the answer. The greens shift to blue and yellow before my eyes, and pink, pink like flowers, pink like cats noses, pink like the universe.

I gasp and see something morph and shape above me, large enough so even I could make it out, large enough to steal my breath away. The night sky was alive with one word: my love.

The tears start freezing on my cheeks as they won’t stop flowing, “it’s been so long.”

I reach my shaking, hungry fingers up and grasp at the light. I see it, a figure, a being, something I couldn’t describe. Maybe we all were made of souls and stardust and perhaps soulmates exist in feral untamed universes.

Even if they must cross the galaxy to meet again.

My fingertips grace over something warm and I am overcome with something morphing out of the nothing. “My love,” a whisper, like a wish and a prayer and the rev of a car engine. “You came.”

I am enveloped in warmth and something drips down my body like melting candle wax, I close my arms and wrap my arms around the light.

“Hello, my love.”

And the sky devours me whole.

------------------------

Support me on Patreon!

WordPress ⭐Ko-Fi ⭐Patreon

#wlw #sapphic #short story #urban fantasy #sci-fi #sci-fi story #sci-fi fantasy #my work #original story #original short story #lesbian romance story #kinda #writers on tumblr

549 notes · View notes

liestothedark-blog · 5 years

Text

Chapter One

I was standing on the edge of the cliff; she looks down over Caldwell. The lights of the city twinkled showing it was a live. How I wishes I was alive like the city. My name is Mahven, I am almost 25 and soon would be transitioning into full vampire. I am the only daughter and child to Ana and Chonnor. I am set to wed tomorrow it’s such rule. A stupid prearranged tradition. Thinking about it now I am so angry over that. All I want to do is to be free to make my own decisions. Fall in love with whomever I choose. Rolling my eyes, at my phone ringing it. Looking down at the phone, of course, it was my mahmen. I silenced the ringing but didn’t push decline. What was that, I narrowed my eyes, I swore I seen something in the dark. There was a shape of someone moving fast towards me. I didn’t have a chance to react before the pale shape slammed into me knocking me down.

My phone sailing through the air, shattering on impacted with the ground. It was the enemy of race, a lesser, he was grinning as he stood up. I looked like a newborn deer stumbling as I stood. The lesser licked his lips as he pulled a knife from his boot. I didn’t realize the edge of the cliff was so close but when I took a step back. Before the lesser could attack the ground gave way sending me into the black abyss below.

The pain was the first thing that register in my mind. It screamed loud and clear before my eyes fluttered opened. Mu head throbbed; I couldn’t move my left leg without having searing pain ripping up the whole side. I go to try and yell for help cries nothing come out but sprays of the coppery taste of blood. Soon the pain numbs and slowly my eyes feel heavy my whole body is heavy like I am being pulled into the depths of the dark water. Peaceful.

In the darkness of my mind, the pain was gone, it was replaced by the sensation of warmth. It blankets my body. Blinking my eyes open just to squeeze them shut. The warmth I had been feeling was the sun was at high noon. The heat got to be too much so tried to shift but nothing wants to move. Tears roll down my cheeks. As much as I was upset with my parents for forcing me into this loveless marriage. But right now, all I want is my mahmen and father. My brain keeps skipping around to drifted to the man I was being forced marry. He had already gone through transaction unlike herself. Dhamien came from a richer family then her own. I now just wanted my mahmen, my father was the one to push this arrangement. What he didn’t know what that I knew that he had developed a bit of a gambling habit. With this mating he would begiven a lot of money. That was the reason why I was on the cliff I had gotten into a fight with him telling me that I was just being sold to the highest bid. What the doggen had been told by Dhamien’s doggen is that he wasn’t nice he abused them. It made me sick to my stomach I prayed almost that no one could find me then wouldn’t be mated to that man.

Branches around me moved, this is was it. The lesser had found me to finish off the job. I prepared to enter the fade. Shutting my eyes and praying to the Scribe. When nothing happened to me, I looked up to the face of golden retriever. The gentle animal licked at my face licking at the tears. The golden dog also laid down beside me keeping me company. My only hand that that didn’t hurt to move was my right. I started to pet his coat. I wish my voice was louder than a squeak maybe this dog was like Lassie and would go get help.

Hours later when the sun had gone down, my new friend had stayed curling up to me in fact laying his head on my broken leg. Two very sharp and loud whistles ripped through the darkness. “George!” The dogs lifted his head and his tail thumped a happy beat on the ground. “George!” He got up at the second yell and padded off. “George, where have you been? Hey Hardass, look at this, I think there is blood on his coat.”

“That is blood, where have you been buddy? Qhuinn, what way did he come from?” There was a cocking of a handgun, “He came from over there.” Through the darkness, the sound of heavy boots walking towards came. I was frighten wishing I could have crawl or hid if she could. “Holy fuck, Quinn we have a female that is extremely injured go get Doc Jane and Manny pronto. The sound of boots running off matched the beat of my heart pounding in my chest.

“Where did you come from?” The huge male asked as he looked around. With no voice all I could do is move my head enough to look up towards the sky. Tears rolling down my face, God I hate that couldn’t tell him, with everything I do I attempt to talk. Barely a whisper came from my mouth, it’s one single word came. “cliff.” Butch looked up towards the mountain it had to be a least an80 foot drop. “Fuck me. This is going to hurt, and I am really sorry for that.” That man must have we weren’t going to wait for help to come to us I needed medical attention now.

3 notes · View notes

ferociousqueak · 5 years

Text

A Review of the Year – Writing Meme 2018

I’ve been really terrible at answering memes I’ve been tagged in these last few weeks. Sorry about that everyone! But it’s a new year, and both @mordinette and @ripley95things tagged me for the thing a couple days ago so let’s get things started right :D

Total number of completed stories:

If you count all the one shots from Desstober (when I wrote a one shot for Dess most days), about 19. Considering the longfics I still have in the works, I’m clinging to that number to remind myself that I can actually finish the things I start.

Total word count:

I’m gonna go with words posted because the words written are kinda scattered and hard to count, so: 45,869. Oof. Probably my least productive year in a while, but that’s fine. Can’t change it now. That just leaves more words for me to write in 2019 :D

Fandoms written in:

Pretty exclusively Mass Effect, but @pagerunner and I are still kicking around a crossover for the shows Lucifer and Leverage.

Looking back, did you expect to write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected?

I definitely started 2018 with grander aspirations, but circumstances converged on me so that I had next to no Me Time for about, oh, nine months. (Not for the reason that length of time usually implies, but the real reason is headdeskingly similar *sigh*)

What’s your own favorite story of the year?

This question is so haaaarrrrd! Because I like a lot of things I wrote for different reasons. I like You shouldn’t have come here because it’s kind of the first moment Dess starts to grow up. I like All’s Fair because it’s finally letting my OTP ship sail. I like I know you do because it’s such a great brother-sister moment between Dess and Hadrian. I like You should have seen it because it was kind of a sweet moment and much-needed support between Dess and Alli. I like Light in the Dark because I don’t write nearly enough Vetra even though I love her with my whole heart. I CAN’T CHOOSE AND YOU CAN’T MAKE ME.

Did you take any writing risks this year?

Not especially. Well kind of. Not in technique or structure or anything. I’ve held the Hannah/Dess ship pretty close to my chest for a while now, but even though I’ve intended them to be endgame since pretty early in writing Hawks and Doves, I’ve written them almost exclusively platonically with a lot of subtext hinting at more romantic feelings. But in All’s Fair, they finally, finally, FINALLY kissed! I considered that kiss, and this ship, a bit of a risk because I’m working with one canon character who’s basically an OC and another OC, so there’s next to nothing in the games that hints at their story. It’s a whole new ship, specific to my universe, and it’s friends-to-lovers on top of it. I took a risk in hoping I’d written their relationship well enough to this point that anyone reading the story would either 1) at least be able to see the natural evolution of their relationship, or more ideally 2) actively want them to get together. So far, the response to them getting together has been overwhelmingly positive, so I feel like this risk paid off :D

Do you have any fanfic or profit goals for the new year?

YES! I wanna finish All’s Fair (or the gala fic, as I’ve been calling it) because then the whole Hannah/Dess ship will be solidified and I’ll finally be able to get on with things in Family Resemblance without that little turn of events hanging out there. And I know I’ve only got the first chapter posted, but there’s a whole lot more I’ve written. I just started posting it in November and then the holidays started happening so :/ Right now, I’m a couple hundred words away from having the next three or four chapters done :D

Best/most popular story of the year?

I’m not exactly sure how to measure this one, but I’m gonna say the first chapter of All’s Fair takes the cake because it’s a completely new ship that wasn’t in the games, and it’s had a pretty positive reception. And for just one chapter of OC shipping (and so far the only thing that’s happened is one kiss), it has about 100 hits, which is pretty good for me!

Story of mine most underappreciated by the universe, in my opinion:

I don’t quite like the implication behind claiming something is “underappreciated” because I’m always thrilled for any appreciation, but one story I think didn’t quite get the platform I would’ve like for it was Light in the Dark. It’s a good story, but the fandom for Mass Effect: Andromeda petered out a bit when BioWare said they were putting the franchise on ice. What can you do :/

Most fun story to write:

I had an absolute ball writing all those one shots for Dess in October, so I’ll take them together and say Between the Letters was the most fun :D

Story with the single sexiest moment:

I don’t usually write sexy things, so the kiss in All’s Fair is definitely the sexiest thing I wrote last year. Maybe People like you have no imagination is up there too, but it didn’t have the same emotion behind it.

Most sweet story:

I think Light in the Dark also gets this one. It’s a formative moment between Vetra and Sid as they’re trying to make it on their own, and despite the challenges, they can still take a moment to be sisters.

Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters:

Justification, the chapter of Family Resemblance I posted last year, made me consider other aspects of my OC Bethany Greenwood. Before that chapter, she’d started to fade into the background, but after Justification, I have more plans for her :D

Most unintentionally telling story:

In 2018? Hm… I’m drawing a blank. If I’ve written anything that’s telling, it’s probably more obvious to others than it is to me :P

Hardest story to write:

FAMILY RESEMBLANCE OMG

Write an alphabet fic, I said!

It’ll be fun I, said!

Let’s make it a political intrigue crossed with a family saga spanning 30-ish years! And change perspectives every chapter! No big deal!

*cries about it*

Biggest disappointment:

That I didn’t write more :/ But I’m trying not to be disappointed about that. You can’t drive by looking in the rearview mirror. I might not have written as much as I wanted last year, but I have plenty to write this year :D

Biggest surprise:

That so many people are so enthusiastically on-board with Hannah/Dess :D My heart is so full that so many readers were rooting for them!

Number of fic chapters written in 2018:

One *cries about it*

Number of chaptered fics completed in 2018:

I think I need to call my lawyer…

Relationships:

Mostly Hannah/Dess, but there was also a little Dess/Adrian that was fun (if a little sad) to write! I also wrote a little bit about Dess/Cassia and their . . . interesting relationship. I consider Cassia aromantic and Dess demiromantic, so neither one of them considers their sexual relationship something that would ever last once it stopped being fun. They are friends, though, and Cassia does care about Dess being happy, so she’s actually very happy to learn about Dess and Hannah finally making romantic overtures :P

Proudest achievements:

Honestly, that I was able to write anything at all. I was especially happy about fleshing out some of Dess’s background and character (especially the parts that don’t include Hannah) because I feel like she’s more than just a love interest now. And the fact that I wrote 18 one-shots for her in one month surprised even me! I wanna do that again, but with Sana this time :D

Writing goals for 2019:

Finish writing All’s Fair. This is at the top of my list because I really can’t proceed with Family Resemblance until All’s Fair is done. Thankfully, it’s not supposed to be that long, maybe 40k words at most and I’m already sitting at about 20k.

Continue writing Family Resemblance. The next chapter is K (Kismet) and it’s mostly finished but still needs some pretty heavy editing—and it’s gonna have a special appearance by Adrian Nyx :D Then L (Liminal) still needs Alli’s half, but it’s gonna loop Bethany Greenwood into the story more tightly in Michael’s half, which is already done. Then M (Mindoir) still needs to be written, and I’ve been putting it off because it’s gonna be so hard on everyone :( Then N (Nexus) has Alli’s half done and about half of the second part, which will be from a perspective that’s neither Hannah’s nor Michael’s :D Really if I can work Alli through the rest of her pre-Alliance life (O, for Opportunity) this year, I’ll consider it a win.

Write a month of one-shots for Sana. It was a lot of fun when I did it for Dess, and I have a lot I want to write about for Sana in the same way! And for anyone wondering, yes. There will indeed be at least a brief glimpse at baby!Sana :D

Who knows? I might even post a little smut ;)

I think I’m also gonna start keeping closer track of my word counts this year. I’m not gonna set myself a word count goal, but I think it would be informative to know when I’m most and least productive and figure out why. Let’s say every first of the month I’ll tally the words from the previous month and break it down from there. Yay spreadsheets :D

Now for tagging! How about @pagerunner, @servantofclio, @black-rose4, @tarysande, and @thievinghippo. Only if you want to and if no one’s tagged you already, of course!

#hows about a meme thingy #on writing #long post

16 notes · View notes

tompen94 · 5 years

Text

Ranting about Kingdom Hearts III (cuz I just finished it, SPOILERS AHOY)

Follow-up post to: https://tompen94.tumblr.com/post/181689323487/ranting-about-kingdom-hearts-cuz-i-just-got-into

Okay... Uhhh... So that was... a lot to process...

I have finished KH3 with all of the chests and Lucky Emblems found. I tried my hardest not to just rush through the story, but I am not gonna pretend like I know shit as I am a pretty casual gamer. This is just an aggregate of my thoughts on the game.

If you want a review here it is: GET THE FUCKING GAME RN

I won’t be holding back any information. This is your official spoiler warning.

Spoilers below the cut (if it even works).

Gameplay

As I said in my KH Rant post (click the link goddammit), this was my first experience with the gameplay of the series.

It took some getting used to, my muscle memory kept telling me that X was to jump so I got stuff wrong in the beginning but I got the gist of it towards the end. Didn’t use as much magic as I wanted though, using the d-pad means not using the analog stick, which means remaining still in the middle of a fight while I decide which magic to use and, in the case of Cure, who to use it on. (Yes I’m aware of shortcuts and I used them but I still have to use the d-pad to change which set I’m using)

However, I liked the combat system in general. I’m sure it is something that comes with time and my issues with it can be honed out with more practice.

Wasn’t too hot on flowmotion though, at least in the beginning when you don’t have abilities like Air Slide. Using flowmotion in battle was pretty hard for me to do at first because of this. I had heard of how OP it was in DDD and I tried to use it a bunch in Thebes but because of my low success in even activating the thing properly, I stopped using it until I got to the Ice Labyrinth in Arendele. I started using it moderately after that.

The Lock-on laser thingy was something I thought I was going to use a lot since I had seen it being used pretty often in gameplay of the other KH games. However I barely used it. But it was pretty satisfying locking every beam onto a single target and then one-shot them with it.

Finally the situation commands. Loved them. My most used button other than X is the Triangle. Always use situation commands. It’s always a benefit. (Also Rage Form heals you and gives you super fast combos. Fucking neat!)

Favorite things and stuff

Favorite playable keyblade: Kingdom Key

Call me basic or whatever. The Kingdom Key was my main Keyblade and I barely swapped it out throughout the game. It is by far the weakest keyblade, I know. But I just like it so damn much, I kept it as my main. So yes, you can finish the game just with the Kingdom Key. If you don’t mind farming Adamantite and Electrum to upgrade it to the max, that is. I was planning to swap it out for ‘Dawn till Dusk’ but that was before I found out it was an Amazon pre-order exclusive (LAAAAAME!!!!).

Favorite keyblade in the series: Way to the Dawn

I like Riku’s new keyblade but Way to the Dawn looks so goddamn cool. Its look also tells a story, it’s an imprint of Riku’s character arc throughout the series. It’s a bit of a shame that they had him change it.

Favorite Worlds: Corona & The Caribbean

Corona is stupid pretty. And a fun world to explore and jump around in. I love how they recreated certain environments just for the scene of Rapunzel being at war with herself. You can actually go to those places! Also the Kingdom itself is just beautiful. Corona is the place I took most selfies on. Also:

(I will protect this smile with my life)

The Caribbean is basically its own game. Most worlds have one fun addition to the combat or the level design, like the Gigas in Toy Box, or even Rapunzel’s hair during the story portion of Corona. However the Caribbean gives you a ship and a whole new set of mechanics with it. It’s also a massive world, 56 goddamn chests to find. It feels so satisfying to sail to an island, get to the very end of it and find a butload of chests to open. Also Sora looks cool as fuck in his pirate costume.

Most disappointing worlds: Arendele & San Fransokyo

I wish it wasn’t so but Arendele wasn’t as much as I expected it to be. Don’t get me wrong, that ‘Let it go’ sequence is fucking phenomenal and I fanboyed out on it a lot, but the world itself isn’t all that interesting to me. You don’t even get to visit the Kingdom, just the mountain. And after you finish the story, the game teases you with Elsa’s Ice Castle, but guess what, you ain’t entering it either. Instead of the Ice Labirynth, I would much rather have had a level inside Elsa’s castle.

As for San Fransokyo, Why can’t I freely go to the bridge? Why is it locked to that one combat scene and then never seen again? And the city itself is confusing to traverse in. Even with the map I frequently lost track of where I was. The streets are also too wide, the only way to go through them quickly is if you’re a boss at using the Lock-on+Square thing, but I suck at it, so I’m just spamming dodge-roll to get through it a little faster than running. If the streets were narrower, it would be different, because then I could use flowmotion off of the walls and zip around like Deku was doing in the fight against Stain. Now THAT would’ve been cool. BGM is lit though.

Favorite characters: Sora & Riku

This is a topic I’m constantly changing my mind on, I like every single one of the main characters. Some more than others, yes, but I’m constantly jumping around between Sora, Riku, Roxas, Ventus, Aqua and Mickey. For now though, I’m going with Sora and Riku.

Sora’s a whole lot more chilled out in this game. And I really like that. In KH2 whenever he wasn’t trash-talking or involved in slap-stick with Donald and Goofy, he was moping around thinking about Riku and Kairi. It’s really nice to see him more carefree and I believe his character is greatly improved with this.

As for Riku, he’s kind of the opposite to Sora? I think his character shines the most when put under duress. We don’t see much of that in KH3, but we get plenty of it in the rest of the series. His constant struggle with the darkness makes for a pretty compelling character arc. Though I do think his peak was in KH2, when he was the ‘Get stuff done’ character alongside Mickey.

The Ending

And here we are... I still don’t know what to make of that ending... This story is filled to the brim with feel-good moments and then it ends on such a conflicting note for me. What comes to my mind is: Why Nomura... Why?

When Aqua returned to the Realm of Light and cried of happiness, I had the dumbest smile in my face.

When Ventus woke up and said “Good Morning, Aqua”, I had the dumbest smile on my face.

When the keyblades from the past came to participate in the ‘Rape-the-Triangle-button’ sequence of this game, I had the dumbest smile on my face.

When Terra (he did nothing wrong) reunited with Aqua and Ven, I had the dumbest smile on my face.

When Roxas returned, I had the dumbest smile on my face.

When Xion cried tears of joy on reuniting with Axel and Roxas, I had the dumbest smile on my face.

And then... at the end Sora fades away? What the fu-WHY? I actually still have a knot in my stomach over this.

Let’s put that aside for now, let’s not forget the fact that while the stuff in Back Cover and Union X did play an important part, it got fuck-all closure. Everyone’s chasing that Black Box but it amounted to nothing in this game. There are 7 new Princesses of Heart and we only see 3 of them. Also why couldn’t Luxu just be Luxu?

All of this could’ve been forgiven though. If everyone had a happy ending that is. But coupling all of this with Sora vanishing at the end... I can’t let it pass. This doesn’t feel satisfying. Goddammit Nomura!

Maybe this is just my knee-jerk reaction. Maybe I’ll see more positives in this ending over time, after I’ve digested it. But for now, this is how I feel...

I also have conflicted feelings about Xehanort’s redemption but I can stomach this one much more easily. While I don’t think adding this in was necessary, I also think it’s harmless. Giving Xehanort a ride off into the sunset instead of just a death is fine by me.

Some other things

Wasn’t it confirmed that Kairi would be playable? :(

Speaking of which, it certainly would’ve been nice to have some sort of Mission Mode a la 358/2 Days to be able to play as other characters. You only play as Riku twice and as Aqua once. Most of the MCs were fully playable at one point or another in the franchise so it would’ve been nice to be able to do so in some capacity in this game. Couldn’t you at least let me fight Terranort as the Lingering Will?

WHY DOES THIS GAME LOOK SO GOOD

I’m sorry if this felt like a bit of a downer. I guess I’m... grieving over Sora? Never thought I’d say something like that. I know that he “comes back” in the secret movie, along with Riku and... Yozora (I thought he was just a parody of Noctis?) and the Master of Masters. But I wonder how that ties into the Foreteller stuff we saw with XigbarLuxu. Also why is Riku there?

May your heart be your guiding key

#kh spoilers #kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts iii #kh sora #kh riku #mickey #donald #goofy #kh kairi #kh aqua #kh terra #kh ventus #roxas #kh axel #kh xion #xehanort #kh stuff

1 note · View note

voyages-extraordinaires · 6 years

Text

C:R ~VE~ Chapter 10

“You--? Why are you here?!”

Finis’ voice rings loud from the hall.

I sit up in my bed and look around. The lone window shows that the sun is beginning to set, casting a lavender hue over the beach.

I must have needed the rest more than I had thought. My mind feels clearer, though, and my confidence bolstered. I need to have faith in myself and in science. Yes… Nemo and I are both scientists. Surely, my love for science will overpower any foolish need of mine to confess my feelings. My goal must-- no, my goal WILL come first. I will sail under the sea, I will cross the Atlantic by submarine!

And then the door bursts open.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONSOIR MON AMI!”

I can’t stop myself from laughing as Nemo bounds in and stretches out his arms, striking a pose nothing short of triumphant… and ridiculous.

Behind him is Finis, silent and dour.

“Aronnax…” he looks right at me. “You have disobeyed me…”

Instead of looking like a bratty child, Finis actually looked rather frightening. I remember Cardia’s story, and all the things this boy is capable of doing.

“WROOOOOOOOOOOOONG!” Nemo swoops in to my rescue, pointing at Finis dramatically. “Polly-chan has been confined to her room under myyyyyyyyy orders! She has a strict prescription of bed rest, and the ooooooooonly way I could allow her to attend teatime is if her doctor was also in attendance!”

Finis’ face grew even darker as his lips pursed in annoyance. “Teatime…? You let this buffoon turn our meeting into teatime?”

Nemo once again comes to my defense. “Aaaaaactually, the architect of this event is the Homuncardia-chan!”

He pauses, then wrinkles his nose as if deep in contemplation.

“Cardia-chan!” he repeats.

“Sister...?” Finis slowly turns his head, looking over his shoulder. “Is that true...?”

“Yes,” Cardia walks in with a warm smile. “It’s all set up now. I had Impey help, so it really will feel like a party.”

“Him too.....?!” If Finis’ glare gets any sharper, I’m afraid we’ll all start bleeding.

Cardia shakes her head. “I thought it would be best if he continued to work on the submarine design, as... uh...” She looks to the side, as though she can’t say these words with a single hint of seriousness while looking at us. “He was ‘threatened under pain of a most agonizing death’.”

A pair of glinting goggles and a low "fwee hee hee” reveals exactly who made that threat.

This makes Finis’ posture relax, and he even smirks. “Well, I suppose it can’t be helped if it was Sister... still, Nemo.”

Finis stares coldly at the taller man.

“I had excluded you from this for your own sake. When you cry in pain, thank me for my generosity.”

Before Nemo can give another grandiose statement, I reach over and take his hand in mine. He looks at me with a confused “Mrrph?” and I smile before looking back at Finis.

“Nemo and I are partners,” I state as flatly as I can, despite my heart screaming. “If you wish to discuss this voyage with me, then he needs to be there, too.”

“Partners?!” Finis mouth stretches into a smile. “Oh, you poor thing! Maybe this will be more fun than I had anticipated...” with a sweep of his cape, Finis turns and departs.

As Cardia watches him leave, she hears him say: “Did you bring plenty of sugar, sister?”

She just sighs. “What do you think?”

Judging from the smile creeping on her face, Finis must have shot her a dirty look.

Cardia looks over at the two of us before walking over.

“Nemo?” her voice is quiet.

Nemo responds with another confused “Mrrph???”

“Thank you!”

Her smile is so sweet, and the roses of her cheeks are blossoming.

“H-huh?” Nemo looks around before pointing to himself with a confused expression.

“For saying my name,” Cardia continues. “You said it once before, back in the prison. I wasn’t certain then, but... now I am. You thought about it, and you meant to say my name.”

Her smile is so dazzling that I can feel my cheeks flushing again. At this rate, I’ll be given mandatory bed rest again.

But it’s okay, because Nemo’s blushing too.

“It’s....” he trails off before striking another pose (almost ripping my arm out of its socket, why didn’t he let go of my hand--?!). When he speaks next, his voice is strange, almost like a salesman’s. I don’t understand it.

“It’s the job of a scientist to observe new evidence and edit hypotheses in the search for truth!”

And, just like that, it’s back to its normal, booming self.

“An artificial life, yeeeees, but an individual nonetheless, soooo--!”

He triumphantly swings his free arm out. “The only logical conclusion would be to address you by the name that Isaaaaaac-sensei gave you: Car-di-a--chan!”

Nemo... he and Cardia have been through a lot together. I’m glad that he’s seeing her as more than a doll, more than a golem.

I think of giving his hand a squeeze in gratitude, but I think better of it. Cardia’s smile, Cardia’s beautiful smile is more than enough thanks.

“Well, I’m going to make sure my brother doesn’t eat all of the sweets. I’ll see you both there!”

Is it a coincidence that the sun finishes setting as she leaves our sight?

“Well...” I look around the dim room. “I had better get dressed. Can’t attend tea in my robe.”

“Fwee hee hee...”

That mischievous laugh of his again.

“Need some assistance, my friiiiiiiiiend~?”

This time it’s my turn to let out a confused noise.

I had probably just misunderstood. I look up at him with a smile. “I’m fine, really. I...”

Why is he-- why is he smiling like that?

He gently puts his hand on my shoulder, tracing the shape with his thumb.

My mind begins to race as he tilts my chin up with a long index finger, drawing my eyes to his obscured ones.

“You’re still so flushed, I think I need to examiiiiiiiiiine you more closely...”

My eyes are wide. I can’t move. I want so badly to throw my arms around him, to wrap myself around him completely.

He looks over my face with an amused expression and leans towards me, his black-painted lips moving closer to mine. I can feel his breath on my skin, but it isn’t enough. I want to feel the hot metal of his teeth scrape my flesh, I want so much more--!

I part my lips and let out a longing sigh.

But then he stops.

He pulls back, pats me reassuringly on the shoulder, and gives me an ‘okay’ symbol.

“Mmm-hmm! Check up is green! You’re all set for teaaaaaaa!”

I’m standing there staring ahead blankly.

“Don’t keep us waiting, Polly-chaaaaan~!” Nemo gives a wave as he exits, letting the door close behind him with a resounding slam.

I realize that the ache in my body won’t be satisfied, so I quickly push such thoughts out of my head and begin to get dressed.

Yes, he was just worried about me. He just wanted to check, to see if I had cooled off. He just... went about it strangely, like he does sometimes. That’s all.

... He smelled like lavender, though.

Was it just my imagination?

-----

Nemo makes it about halfway down the hall before he slumps against one of the walls. A sound escapes his mouth, and he claps his hand over it to stop himself.

There are tears running down his cheeks, yes, but the sound that he’s muffling doesn’t match.

It’s laughter. Hysterical laughter, contained only by his own hand.

Now she knows! Now she knows a hint of that pain! That eternal, gnawing yearning for touch, for companionship--! This time, I was the one who took it away! Finally, I’m the one in control!

But his laughter dies down soon after those thoughts race through his mind. He removes his hand from his mouth to inhale air, and instead what comes out is a choked sob.

That expression on her face... such affection... for me! Nemo!

He reaches behind his goggles and rubs his eyes.

No one has looked at me like that since--

He finally collapses to his knees, his hair falling over his face like a funeral shroud.

“I’m sorry...” Nemo cries. “I’m so, so sorry...”

-----

I walk into Cardia’s room to find both her and Finis already seated next to each other. The two chairs across from them were likely meant for Nemo and I.

Nemo must not have arrived yet.

“Professor, would you like some tea?”

Looking at her, I realize why Impey is so in love. I smile in response. “Pauline.”

Cardia blinks a few times. “Excuse me?”

“‘Aronnax’ sounds a bit too formal for the two of us, doesn’t it?”

“Then, Pauline... please have a seat and join us,” says Cardia.

I sit down across from them and take a sip from the cup in front of me.

“It’s nice... is this Barbicane’s blend?” I ask.

“No,” I’m surprised that it’s Finis that speaks. “It’s from Ceylon. It’s just like the teatime we had back then, isn’t it, sister?”

“Impey said this was the best tea they have here. There was only a little,” says Cardia.

“Of course,” says Finis. “It’s because he left it for us.”

“Who?” I ask.

“Your so-called mysterious benefactor,” says Finis.

As if waiting for his cue (he very well might have been, knowing him) Nemo bursts into the room.

“Nemo, there you are! I guess you got tied up at the warehouse,” I say.

Ignoring the clinking of shaking porcelain, he bounds over and sits down next to me before immediately downing a cup.

“Mmm~ this refined flavor...” he slams the cup down onto his saucer. “MAGNIFICEEEEEEEEEEEEENT!!”

His voice sounds a touch hoarse. Just a touch, I’m a little surprised I even noticed it.

Finis looks up from his own teacup, a bored expression on his face.

“What were the terms that Aleister laid out for you?” asks Finis.

“Aleister? Ohh, Jiiiiiimmmy A. Aleisteeeeeeeeeer, my comrade-in-arms!"

“Try not to play the fool for once,” say Finis. “I know that Aleister is the one funding your little ‘voyage’.”

“Professor Aleister... was on the Nautilus too, wasn’t he?” I ask.

“That’s right,” says Finis. “That professor who you think saved your dream is just as rotten as the scientist sitting next to you.”

I frown and open my mouth to protest, but I feel Nemo gently thump my leg with his, and I quiet down.

“Hmmm....” Nemo speaks slowly. “Mooooost of us here were on the Nautilus, soooo... that ‘rottenness’ you speak of has suuurely spread to you!” He takes a moment to grin at Finis. “But that’s neither here nor theeeere... what I want to know is, why would it matter whether it was Aleister that sponsored us?”

“You idiot...” Finis mutters under his breath. “Have you not thought about it at all? The cost of research, building materials, a private island--? What could Aleister hope to gain from it?”

I look at Nemo, and he rests his chin on his hands, closing his eyes. “The conditions were anonymity, Fiiiiiinis.”

“Aleister may have helped me, but that doesn’t mean that he’s a good man,” says Finis. “Like I said before: he’s rotten, as snake-like as that tacky stick he carries. Weren’t you the one who said that you have to protect London, where your so-called precious friends live?” He scoffs, irritated that he even has to explain himself.

Nemo tilts his head curiously. “This isn’t like you, Fiiiiiinis. Why the worry?”

Finis blushes and looks away, pouting sullenly.

“M-My...”

Nemo and I lean in closer to the table.

“My sister.........”

Finis glances at Cardia and scowls.

“It would be troublesome if something happened that made her cry.”

Cardia tries to lock eyes with her brother, but he turns away and crosses his arms.

I suck in my breath. If Aleister really is as wicked as they are saying, the new technology of a submarine powerful enough to cross the ocean would be terrifying in his hands.

It doesn’t look like Nemo is going to speak.

I have to make a choice...

I suck in my breath and say: “The conditions are that we have to give him the submarine after its maiden voyage. That... and anonymity.”

Nemo responds to my betrayal about as eloquently as imagined, shrieking loud enough to make the teacups rattle.

“He didn’t tell us why. I promise,” I finish. “He just said that it would ‘bring a new dawn to Steel London’.”

“W-W-W-W-W-WHAT ARE YOU DOOOIIIINNNGGGG, ARONNAAAAAAAAAX?!?!” Nemo is wailing beside me.

“Nemo...” I pull out my handkerchief and lean over to wipe his cheek, but he jerks away with such force that he falls off the chair. I bend over to offer to help him up, but he just flails like a beetle stuck on his back.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” says Finis. “Aleister knew that he would be found out.”

He pauses to drop some sugar cubes into his teacup. As he watches them begin to melt, he looks up at us through half-lidded eyes and lets a smile stretch over his lips.

“After all, why else would he have leaked your identity to Victoria... your highness?”

6 notes · View notes

12-99-30 · 4 years

Text

November: we’re close to the end

I have a bad habit of thinking of Yesterdays. I am remembering how different things were a year ago today. How I said the same thing last year, too. A year is a lot of time to move pieces around, but it’s not until I sit back and read old journal entries I’m reminded of how much has happened. Exactly a year ago I was experiencing my first break-up; transitioning into ‘singlehood’ and grieving a relationship. I was also beginning to serve in ICF, understanding the hardships of ministry. I was having a lot of ‘firsts’. Comfort was being redefined and the things I thought were forever were proven to be fleeting. Things continue to look different each season, but I’m getting used to different. I’ve adjusted to the pace of life that accelerates and forces change.

There were days this month I felt like a stranger in my skin. Having struggled with physical insecurity in middle school, it felt strange and unwelcomed to have it returning again. It feels childish to say I felt “ugly”, as if my vocabulary wasn’t expanse enough to capture the deeper discomfort of watching my body feel unkempt despite extensive efforts, but it still seems the only appropriate word. I also felt like a stranger in my home. I couldn’t shake this feeling that nobody understood me some days. As a child, you inevitably grow up seeing parents as people rather than figure heads. They are humans with a past; a life before you. But there will always be a veil that separates parent from child. A slight idolization for the people you wanted to believe did no wrong because their love was perfectly imperfect. I’ve seen and heard things that resulted in micro-tears of the veil I held close to me. Things that friends laugh at, things that may not seem like a big deal. But the veil has torn where the dissonance from what I see and what I know alters my perception. People tell me not to look, but it’s staring at a car accident while driving on the interstate. The right thing to do is look forward, but you try to sneak glimpses anyway. My curiosity didn’t kill me, but disrupted my peace. People wonder why I start crying or dug for information in the first place. I wonder too.

I searched for people who would give me the perfect answer; one that gives me validation in my vulnerability and listens closely to my concerns. Every answer and response never seemed to satisfy this longing for more. Something with more empathy and compassion. More understanding and comfort. How silly it sounds to type it all out. I guess I am reverting back to middle school lol.

It took me a while to break this monotonous cycle, but I realized how much I was thinking of myself. I unconsciously made myself the center of my life and it perpetually made me more insecure. Physical insecurity is not solved by simply “loving myself” -- a modern-day cliche that puts pressure on myself to love every impurity. Through grace, I have eternal comfort from God and in that I surrender my crown to seek out the perfect answer in myself and others. I’m training my mind to constantly reevaluate and reposition my heart to rely on You. I hope to extend this grace to my parents, who are like me. Imperfect beings.

This month felt transitional more than anything. November always seems to be the month where parts start to move in motion, but not yet picked up traction. I hope to have a better focus in December and have something worthy to share with you all. 2020 was one continuous turmoil, but I hope to take these last days and redeem it all. I am in the process of simplifying my life and concern myself with things that matter and the people who push me to get there. I’m building character that is deep. An inner confrontation with my desires and habits.

---

A story my mom shared with me that I want to share with you all.

Ba Ngoai: Maternal Grandmother On Ngoai: Maternal Grandfather

My Ba Ngoai had already finalized the plan. They would leave when the streets got dark, two hours past midnight with ample of time before the sun rose. She was going to take my mom and her two brothers, and escape Vietnam to leave to America. The trip would take about two weeks on boat, sailing along the China Sea to eventually dock in Japan. Ba Ngoai already knew she would leave On Ngoai behind, since the Communist officials had him jailed in a re-education camp for judge officials. She thought of herself and her children, and knew this was their hope for a safer life.

My mom was 8 years-old at the time, just having finished the third grade. She was proud of this achievement, but knew she had to pass the exit-exam in order to advance to fourth grade. She was anxious, not wanting to be left behind as her peers advanced. She had been continuously asking Ba Ngoai (her mom), if she could visit her dad in jail. She wanted to share with him this achievement, and hear him say “Good luck” for her exam. On the night of the escape, Ba Ngoai had finally told her they were going to take a trip and visit her dad. Excitement and nerves filled within her. She had two things on circulating in her mind the night of the escape: her third grade exit-exam, and that she would finally be able to see her dad after months of separation.

As she packed a small bag, she reminded Ba Ngoai, “I need to come back home and study for the exam,” Ba Ngoai nodded her head and gathered her children to tell them to stay quiet as they went to visit On Ngoai.

My mom said she doesn’t remember much, but she remembers the night being pitch black. Holding her siblings and mother tight, they would walk through long fields of grass until they settled in a rural house. She asked Ba Ngoai where her dad was.

‘He’s coming’ She would say.

‘Okay, but I need to go back home and study for the exam,’ my mom would remind once again.

Soon, they boarded the bottom of a cramped fishing boat. Over 30 passengers, all families and strangers alike, had one goal: survive.

‘Where’s dad?’ My mom would ask.

My Ba Ngoai’s answers were no longer, “He’s coming” but rather “Stay quiet.”

My mom remembers people being raped, people dying, and people on the verge of death by illness and starvation. She didn’t quite understand what was going on, and feared she would never pass the third grade. Each passenger would receive a fistful of rice to sustain them for that day. She cried to Ba Ngoai, wanting nothing more than to go home, eat a full meal, and take her exit-exam. A family-friend slapped her across the face, telling her to ‘shut up’ and stop crying. I think she stopped worrying about her test after that.

She remembers days where she would hold her breath to prevent any sound for escaping as police would investigate the boat for any illegal emigrants. Nights where ocean waves would rise above the boat, with lightning bolts that would surely take her life. The boat would flip and hurl people across the steerage, water flooding in. In the midst of darkness and a storm, she prayed to a God she had not yet fully believed yet. She had only heard of Jesus, and figured if she was going to die, there was nothing to lose by praying to Him. She would pray and thank Him again when passing cargo boats would donate food in secrecy to help fellow passengers.

In two weeks, they would reach Japan and stay in camps until they found sponsorship from a Vietnamese family already in America. Though she didn’t understand the gospel then, she continually owes her life to Jesus. The days she thought her life would end at 8 years old, she lives now until 50 (and counting) with engraved resilience.

These are the story of boat people I wish to carry. The story of my mom and her ability to believe in the unseen.

#posts

0 notes

illgiveyouahint · 4 years

Note

Hi there how are you doing? Im the cql anon if you remember me. Its been some time lol. Sry about that i took a break from fun stuff to study for an important exam. It was so exhausting but yeah now i have finally time to send you an ask haha. You probably dont have the memories as clearly in your head anymore since its been some time. Ah well my fault. I might have forgotten some of the stuff i wanted to ask u too. 1/2

Ok for one how did you like the whole show overall? What are your thoughts on the ending? Also the golden core reveal scene was so heartbreaking to me i cried so hard. What were your thoughts watching that one? Any other thoughts you had while watching that you remember? Hope its okay to just come back into your inbox after all that time. And have a good day dear :) ps i love the other shows you reblog a lot of these days. Ah such a treat seeing you on my dashboard ever time :D 2/2

OMG YOU'RE BACK!!!!!

HELLO HELLO HELLOO!!!

I missed you anon. Of course I remember you. I thought of you often as I was finishing and then starting a rewatch of the show.

I loved the show. I love fantasy genre but so often it's so bad that I don't actually watch it that often. But the way this show focused on all the different relationships and you got like fighting sequences but not too many and mystery murder case and war and betrayal and loyalty and what is good and what is evil and just all these great themes. I really really loved it. Also idk if I told it to you or someone else but it did remind me of Black Sails with some of these themes which is another show I adore.

As for the ending...well I'm honestly confused by it. Like the whole exposition from Jin Guangyao where he's explaining things etc. over like 2 whole episodes just left me hella confused and I still don't quite understand it all. But I absolutely LOVED the interaction between jc and wwx there. I literally rewatch that scene every couple of days when I think of it 'cause it's just so good and so satisfying. Also since the last time we spoke I started slowly rewatching and giffing the show and I suddenly feel all these feels for jc and like he wasn't really my favourite but now he kinda is 'cause he's just hurting so much and I feel for him. which also brings me to the scene in Lotus Pier where wen ning tells jc the truth about the golden core which is also so freaking good and also a scene that I rewatch often. I'm so glad wen ning did that 'cause I was really worried that no one would ever know why wwx is the way he is and also so glad that lwj was there to hear it. Also the reveal about jc getting his core crushed only because he was saving wwx? God, I love such a circling thematic ending. If he didn't save wwx then he would get his core crushed and then wwx would not have to give him his core but then if he didn't save him then wwx's core would be crushed and he'd be without the core anyway. How poetic is that!!

I also loved the Yuan/Lan Sizhui reveal that was so cute. I still haven't seen the sequel with him and wen ning but I want to. That also made me emotional. The way wen ning didn't really wanna reveal to lan sizhui who he really is to him but then of course lan sizhui/yuan is such a good baby boi who of course loves wen ning anyway and is not ashamed of his heritage. Just G.O.D. it's so good you know?

Hmm, I'm trying to think. Oh yeah, one more thing about the ending. It simply doesn't make sense to me that lwj and wwx would separate even for just a minute after everything that happened. I mean the last like couple of episodes/ever since wwx resurrected they were GLUED to each other. They were so synchronised and did everything together. Like you cannot tell me that after all that wwx would just go toodle-oo see you later alligator and just fucking left lwj's side???? Like nah-ah no way there is no way that that's plausible.

NHS is still my favourite purely for the comedic gold. Even though he is a snake kinda. But still I cannot not love him you know?

Idk there's probably more but I can't think of it right now. Also, this is turning into rambling again.

Anyway, I'm so glad you returned my dear anon. And thank you for all those nice words you said. I don't deserve them but they're appreciated 💛

Take care 💛💛💛

#cql anon #Anonymous #ask #I love talking to people

0 notes

alexskylar · 6 years

Text

Welcome to my World

An erotic tale by Alex Skylar

Bella knew something was wrong before she even stepped foot in the bedroom. The first sign that something was off was the car parked on the street in front of the house. It was nondescript, a little old with a faded green paint job and one hubcap missing. The car itself wasn't unusual, but they lived in a quiet suburban neighborhood that was off the beaten path. Most of the residents parked their cars in their driveways, and visitors usually did the same. When people did park on the street, it was always in front of the house they were visiting. So why was this random car parked in front of her house?

Bella shrugged off the oddity and grabbed her purse, then headed toward the front door. Usually Fridays were one of the busiest days in the catering industry. There wasn’t a lot going on this weekend though, so her boss had let her go home early. It was only three in the afternoon, which left her a few extra hours before her husband John came home from work.

The next sign was waiting for her just inside the front door. She saw one of her husband’s t-shirts sitting in the middle of the entryway, with pink shirt lying next to it. The odd part was the white lace bra hanging from the doorknob of the coat closet nearby. It looked like John had tried to wash some clothes but hadn't actually gotten all of the clothes into the laundry room. The only problem with that idea was that the bra wasn't one of hers.

Before the truth of it could hit her, a soft moan floated through the house, coming from the hallway where her bedroom was.

It was a woman’s moan.

Her feet started to move toward the sound, while her heart sped up and her mind began to spin. The moans continued, and with every step, she moved faster. She was steps away from the door when her husband’s voice joined his partner’s overtures.

“Oh, baby, you feel so good,” he groaned.

Bella rounded the corner and found herself looking at her husband, buck naked on top of some blonde bimbo.

At first, they didn't notice her. Bella stood staring blankly as John plowed this woman she had never seen before. She couldn't understand it. They had been happily married. Everything was great. They had even had sex last night.

Now he was cheating on her.

Bella’s mind was consumed by rage. Her blood began boiling and every muscle tightened. She was going to attack, and nothing would stop her.

Her keys were in her hand, and just as she pulled back to throw them with every ounce of force she had, the girl looked up at her and screamed. Her hand whipped forward and they flew threw the air, striking John in the side of the head. He yelled and rolled off of his playtoy, then looked up at his wife with a shocked expression.

Bella didn't wait for him to speak. She grabbed a vase from the hallway table and chucked it at him. The girl was still screaming as he ducked to the side and avoided it by mere inches.

There was nothing else nearby, so Bella hurried into the room and toward the dresser. She grabbed the alarm clock and yanked the plug from the wall, then turned to hurl it at whoever she saw first. The girl had already jumped out of the bed though, and she scrambled naked out the door and down the hall.

Bella could deal with John later. She chased after the bimbo, following her to the front door and out onto their front doorstep. The girl booked it across the lawn, still completely naked and covering her privates with her hands, as the alarm clock sailed brought the air and crashed into her car. She hopped into the driver’s seat, but she had forgotten something. Her keys were still inside the house.

Suddenly, John bolted out the door past his wife. He had paused to throw on some pants, and he had his girlfriend’s keys in his hand. Bella had nothing to throw, so she began screaming at him with everything she had.

“Get the fuck out and don't come back, you useless piece of shit!” she cried. “I hope you fucking die!”

He slipped into the passenger seat and jammed the key in the ignition. The car started and the tires squealed as they sped off.

Bella stood on the doorstep, still in shock. A few neighbors had poked their heads out to see what was going on, but she didn't care. Her life as she knew it had just ended, and she fell to her knees crying.

A year had passed since that day, and Bella looked back on it with fond amusement now. They had only made it a few miles before a cop pulled them over and arrested the girl for driving naked. There was something bittersweet about knowing that little detail.

John would later admit that he had been carrying on an affair for almost six months. There was no coming back from that, and Bella wanted nothing to do with him. They divorced, and she had done quite well in the settlement. Life moved on, and she had somehow kept going through the darkest part of her life.

Now things were looking up. She was eating healthier, working out regularly, and just feeling more healthy in general. John had been toxic to her and she had never even realized it. Now that he wasn't dragging her down, she had excelled in almost every aspect of her life.

Bella had not yet started dating, but instead put all of her energy into her work. That was how she had moved up to the position of event manager, overseeing a crew of chefs and waitstaff at different events. The event manager was the big boss whenever they were outside of the main office, and she took pride in being one of the best in the company.

It was a beautiful Spring day when she was called in to run one of their biggest events. A local businessman was holding a fundraiser at his luxurious mansion off in the hills of an obscure Massachusetts town called Belton. She had never even heard of it before she was assigned to the event there, so she arrived an hour early to scope out the location before the event started.

When Bella got there, she was greeted by a heavy wrought iron gate that had been left open for the guests. Following the directions her boss had given her, she made her way up the driveway and took a right where the road forked. The path to the left took the guests up to the main entrance, but this one wound around the back of the property to the kitchen entrance. That was where her staff would be unloading.

As she got out of her car, a small, flustered man in a black tuxedo came rushing out the door to greet her.

“Thank god you are here,” he said frantically. “My name is Bryan. I’m the event organizer for Mr. Singleton. He is extremely anxious about this event and I need everything perfect! Where’s the rest of your crew?”

“They are on their way,” Bella replied calmly. “We weren't scheduled to be here for another hour, but I wanted to get here ahead of time to see if I needed to do any prep work beforehand.”

“Early?” Bryan replied, exasperated. “They were supposed to be here an hour ago. My email said eleven in the morning!”

“No,” Bella said, still keeping her cool. “The message sent to us said one in the afternoon.”

“Oh, great,” he said, burying his face in his hands. “I must have typed it wrong. If you can get them here as soon as possible, that would be great. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors about Mr. Singleton, so we don't want a misstep.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of Mr. Singleton before,” she replied, pulling out her phone to ask her crew to leave earlier.

Bryan stared at her, dumbfounded.

“How have you never heard of Kevin Singleton? He’s all over the news and tabloids every other day. The Beast of Belton?”

It suddenly dawned on Bella who he was talking about. She hadn't made the connection to the name of the town, but now it all made sense. Singleton was known for his aggressive business tactics, which had made him into a billionaire by the time he hit thirty. He often made business deals that resulted in massive layoffs, and always showed little empathy for those who got caught in the wake of his actions. As long as he made a profit, that was all that mattered.

Singleton also had a reputation as an abusive womanizer. Several female employees had filed sexual harassment charges against him, but somehow they all seemed to fade away before they made it to court. The rumor mill claimed that he would simply pay the women to go away, while others said that he would make the victim’s lives a living hell until they gave up on their claims. Either way, the cases always disappeared before they made it to court.

Now Bella understood why Bryan was so flustered. Her heart began racing and her palms were sweaty, but with a few deep breaths, she pulled it together. She was a professional, and she always did her best. There was no room for errors, and even more so today. With a few texts, she made sure her crew would be there with time to spare.

By the time the guests started to arrive, all of the prep work was done and the wait staff was passing hors d’oeuvres and champagne. Within a few hours, they had finished their work and were cleaning the kitchen before they left. Once again, Bella had pulled off a miracle and made it work, even when the mistake wasn't hers to fix.

As the afternoon wound down, Bella was bent over the stove scrubbing away with her staff when the kitchen door swung open abruptly. A towering man in a finely-tailored suit came charging in, with two men in tow. One of them was Bryan, who looked incredibly nervous and agitated. The other was unfamiliar, but he seemed much more calm and relaxed as he busily scribbled notes in a small organizer. His hair was slicked back, and he would occasionally glance up to peer at her over the top of his thick-rimmed glasses.

Bella recognized the taller man from his many appearances in the news. His jet-black hair was carefully combed and contoured. He had a handsome face, but it was hidden behind an angry scowl. The Beast of Belton looked like he was on the warpath.

“Where is Mr. Barbeaux?” he asked haughtily.

“It’s Miss Barbeaux,” Bella proclaimed proudly, setting her rag down and approaching the billionaire.

Mr. Singleton had a look of disdain on his face, but when he turned toward her, she saw his expression falter for a minute. He looked her up and down carefully, then crossed his arms across his chest like a spoiled child.

“It's my understanding that your staff was an hour and a half late today. Would you care to explain yourself?”

“Actually, sir,” she said smugly, “we were given the wrong start time. Once I was made aware of the mistake, I had my crew here a half hour early and still managed to keep our operation running on time with the schedule I was given.”

“Milton, who was responsible for giving them their start time?” Mr. Singleton asked, his eyes never leaving Bella.

“That would have been Bryan’s responsibility, sir,” the third man replied, and they both turned toward the nervous event organizer.

“A mistake like that is unacceptable,” Mr. Singleton told him bluntly. “You're fired. Perhaps you should look for a new line of work. Event organizing doesn't seem to be a good fit for you.”

Bryan began to stammer in his own defense for a moment, but he knew there was no point in squabbling. With the Beast of Belton, once something was done, it was done. There was no coming back. He lowered his head and left the room without another word.

“You handled yourself very well today, Miss Barbeaux,” Mr. Singleton said, turning back toward her. “Thank you for your hard work. I’m very impressed.”

Without waiting for her reply, he turned on his heels and breezed out of the kitchen.

Bella inhaled deeply, realizing she had been holding her breath during their encounter. She returned to her work, but a few moments later she was interrupted again when Milton returned on his own. He handed her an envelope with the remaining payment for the evening.

“Mr. Singleton has a dinner this Thursday evening, and he asked me if you could attend to the catering for the evening. He will offer double your usual fee, but he would like you to run the evening. Would that be a possibility?”

“I believe we are available that evening, but I would have to check the schedule when I get back,” she said.

“I would suggest saying yes,” Milton advised her. “Mr. Singleton can do a lot for your company, and he doesn't like to hear the the word no.”

He turned to leave, but Bella was quick with her reply.

“From what I saw tonight, I don't feel very confident about saying yes, either.”

Milton stopped and turned slowly toward her. He stepped a little closer, watching her sternly.

“Mr. Singleton is not as bad of a boss as some people might have you believe,” he said, speaking in slow, measured tones. “He does ask for careful attention to detail, and I will tell you that this was not Bryan’s first mistake. Don't be so quick to judge. Bring your staff here on Thursday and see if you still think that. If you don't feel comfortable after that, I will remove you from our lists and make sure you are never bothered again. Does that sound fair?”

Bella paused for a moment to contemplate it, then nodded. If the schedule wasn't open, she would make sure it was. This was a great opportunity to expand her personal client base, and she couldn't complain about getting paid twice her usual fee. It was worth the chance, and it was only one evening.

By the time Bella had gotten back to the main kitchen, Milton had already emailed her all of the details for Thursday. It was a simple menu for a dozen guests, so she would only need a barebones crew. She was still a bit nervous, but she knew she could handle it.

Once again, she arrived early to make sure everything was in place and ready to go when her crew arrived. Now that she knew what was at stake, she had dressed in server’s attire so she could bounce back and forth between the kitchen and the dining room. That way she would be able to keep an eye on every little detail.

When the first dish was ready, Bella grabbed one of the plates and pushed through the service door. She found herself standing in a long, dimly lit hallway lined with display cases. The other servers had already been to the dining room to set the table, so she followed them down the hall until they pushed through the door at the end. The room beyond was a spacious one with lofted ceilings over a huge wood table. A sparkling chandelier cast long shadows across the wall, giving it a spooky feel. Despite the dire atmosphere, there were a dozen men in suits seated at the table

Mr. Singleton sat at the head, and Bella headed toward him while the other servers delivered their plates to the remaining guests. As she set his food down in front of him, he looked up and gave her the faintest smile before returning to the conversation. She perused the table to make sure everything was in place, then ducked out the door after the rest of her staff.

As the evening progressed, Bella continued to serve Mr. Singleton herself. He gave her that faint smile each time, but his gaze seemed to linger a little longer as the night went on. There was something behind his smoldering blue eyes that captivated her.

With every trip down the hall, Bella would look into a different display case. There was one in particular that stood out to her. Every shelf held several books placed on stands with the front of the book facing outward. It was the only case with a lock on the door, and Bella found herself wondering how valuable these old books must be. After delivering the last course to the table, she lingered a little longer to try and get a closer look. One particular book was all by itself on the topmost shelf, and she stood on her tiptoes to try to get a better view.

“That's one of the earliest printed versions of Grimm’s fairy tales,” a voice spoke, startling her.

Bella spun around and found Mr. Singleton watching her intently with his hands in his pockets. Somehow, he had managed to make it most of the way down the hallway without making a sound, and she suddenly panicked when she realized she had made a huge mistake.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” she said apologetically. “I was just admiring your collection. I love old books, and it caught my eye.”

“Please don't worry like that, Miss Barbeaux,” he said, chuckling as he approached the display case. “I can't be mad at a fellow book lover. They open us to a whole new world, and show us dark details of the human condition that we might not have considered otherwise. This book is the perfect example. Did you know that the Grimm brothers didn't consider themselves writers? They didn't make up these stories themselves. They were tales that had been passed around orally for generations, and they simply wanted to collect them in one place to preserve their memory. These stories have inspired countless others, and you can't really put a price on influence like that.”

“Certainly not,” Bella answered. “I never knew that.”

Her nerves had started to calm, but she didn't want to be rude and just walk away, so she lingered for a moment.

“Do you read often?” he asked her.

“Almost every night,” Bella admitted. “I love being able to escape to another world and just forget my problems for a little bit. It's quite freeing.”

“I feel the same way,” he said solemnly. After a brief pause, he changed the subject. “You did an excellent job this evening. My colleagues were very impressed with the food and service, as was I. I hope you will continue to provide us with your services in the future.”

Mr. Singleton turned and walked slowly back toward the dining room. When he got to the door, he stopped and turned back toward her slightly.

“There was a few issues with the placement of the dinnerware at the beginning of the meal. The guests didn't notice, but I did. Please make sure to check before the guests are seated next time.”

Then he was gone.

Bella felt her cheeks burning red. He was right. She should have checked the settings before they had sat down at the table. If there was a next time, she wouldn't let that happen again.

Over the next few months, Bella was called back to the estate in Belton to oversee dinners as often as every other week. Each time, she checked every detail meticulously and made sure her servers did the same.

Whatever the group was that she had been called on to serve, they seemed very secretive. She began to notice that whenever the servers entered the room, the conversation would fade away quickly. Their business was none of hers, but she did find it intriguing that they would be so covert that even a fragment of conversation wasn't allowed when others were present.

Bella’s interactions with Mr. Singleton were infrequent, but he would sometimes stop to thank her for her hard work. Every now and then he would correct some minor mistake, but he wasn't overly rude or overbearing when he did. The Beast of Belton seemed pretty tame to her, but that didn't mean she didn't occasionally see his darker side with his other staff. The only one besides her that seemed to be immune from his controlling behavior was Milton, who never seemed to make even the slightest mistake. He had adapted to the whims of his boss and was very adept at making sure the anger never fell on him.

After one particularly successful dinner, Bella was cleaning up with the rest of the staff when Milton made one of his rare appearances in the kitchen.

“Excuse me, Miss Barbeaux. Could I speak to you in private for a moment?”

Bella set her rag down and stepped out the door into the hallway. For a moment she feared she had made a significant mistake, but she would have expected Mr. Singleton to handle something like that in person. Milton’s calm demeanor helped soothe her fears.

“Mr. Singleton will be attending a fundraiser at the Boston Public Library this Saturday night. Because of your fondness for books, he asked me to see if you would be willing to attend the event as his date for the evening.”

Bella was caught off guard by the request. She smiled on the outside, but something inside her told her this wouldn't be a good idea. If she said yes, she would be opening the door for a non-professional relationship with him, and she had already worked so hard to maintain her lucrative deal with the estate. Plus, she remembered the rumors about his penchant for harassing women, and she wondered if this was how those incidents began. The entire idea made her hesitant.

“I don't think that would be a good idea,” she said finally. “I usually work on Saturdays, so I might be busy already.”

Milton gave her a stone-cold stare. Bella could see the wheels turning as he tried to figure out the best way to approach this.

“If that is your answer, I will pass it along to Mr. Singleton. However, I would remind you that he’s not the kind of man who likes to hear the word no. He was quite insistent that you attend the event with him, and I worry that denying him might affect your professional relationship with him.”

Bella furrowed her brow, feeling frustrated. She was trapped between a rock and a hard place, and either answer seemed to have negative consequences.

“I don't even have anything to wear, though,” she said in a last-ditch effort to get out of it.

“That won't be an issue. You can come here around noon I will set you up in one of the spare rooms. There will be a gown for you, as well as someone to do your makeup and style your hair. Everything will be handled. All you have to do is show up.”

“Then I guess I don't have much choice,” she replied sullenly.

Milton smiled victoriously, then turned and walked away, leaving her standing in front of the case that held Mr. Singleton’s prized book collection. Bella took a deep breath, then returned to her work.

On Saturday, Bella was up early in anticipation of what was to come. There was no way to tell how this evening was going to unfold, and that made her incredibly nervous. She had handled so much up to this point, though, and this was just another drop in the bucket. If he made her feel bad in any way, she wouldn't hesitate to find a cab to take her home.

She pulled into the driveway just before noon. Unlike her previous visits, the gate out front was closed, but when she buzzed the intercom, it opened before her.

Instead of taking the right fork toward the kitchen, Bella decided that she should come in through the front door this time. As she pulled up and parked in the empty loop in front of the main entryway, Milton was waiting dutifully for her.

“I’m glad you decided to come today,” he said with a smug grin. “Follow me and I will show you to your room.”

Bella fell in behind him and followed him obediently as he led her through the house. She had only seen the kitchen, the hallway, and dining room, but she knew there was a lot more to it, just based on the palatial size of the building. The grand entryway was open and spacious, with two separate staircases curving up to the second floor on the left and right. She had seen places like this on television, but this was the first one she had seen it in person. She hesitated for a moment to take it all in, then hurried after Milton as he climbed the right staircase.

The hallways turned left and right, winding past dozens of closed doors. Every now and then it would branch in two different directions, like a giant maze. Even if she wanted to leave, Bella wasn't sure that she would be able to find her way.

When they finally got to her room, she was in awe. The room was enormous, with couches and a television off to one side. The centerpiece of the room was a huge four-poster bed made from intricately carved mahogany wood. To the right was a set of double doors that led to the bathroom and a dressing area.

Milton pushed the doors open and Bella was greeted by three women bustling about. As soon as they saw her, all of their attention was on her. They hurried over excitedly like fairy godmothers preparing a young woman for a night at the ball. The only thing missing was a pumpkin that they could turn into a carriage.

Their names were Sherri, Terry, and Clarice. All three were dressed in eccentric outfits. Sherri was blonde, while Terry was a brunette. Clarice was the standout of the bunch, with a frizzed-out mop of hair on her head that had been dyed to a faint shade of pink. Together, they made an amusing trio that constantly vacillated between friendly joking and frenzied snipping.

Bella wanted to see the dress, but her stylists refused until they had finished everything else. She was ushered into a chair in front of a mirror, where they set about preparing her hair and makeup. It took over an hour as they carefully twisted her long brunette hair into braids, then spun them into a tight little bun on the back of her head. They then added a few decorative pins that made her hair look like it was dotted with starlight. Despite her nerves, Bella smiled widely when she saw the finished product.

Once they were done, they pulled her by the hand and led her out of the dressing room and into the main room. While they had been hard at work on her, someone had brought in four beautiful gowns and laid them out on the bed. There was a pink one, a blue one, a yellow one, and red one. Bella found herself drawn to the yellow one. It was a long flowing dress with modest accents that were tactful and beautiful. As soon as she pointed to that one, the women began clapping their hands excitedly. The decision was unanimous.

The women swarmed around her and began stripping her clothes off without any concern for her modesty. The dress had built in support, so when they unhooked her bra and removed that as well, her hands quickly clutched her breasts to hide them. Thankfully she had chosen a pair of cute red panties, because that was all she was left with when they were done.

They carefully guided her into the dress and zipped it up around her, wrapping her in radiant sunshine. The girls were ready to do any alterations, but somehow the dress just fit her perfectly, as if it was meant for her. Once everything was in place, she was led back to the bathroom and placed in front of a huge mirror where she could see the entire finished product.

As Bella looked at her reflection, she was filled with excitement. This was her fairytale moment, where she could be the beautiful princess with no worries or concerns. It felt magical, but there was a tense undertone of frustration behind those positive emotions. Ever since she had left John, she had promised herself that she would never let a man walk on her like that again. She had pushed herself to be strong and independent every single day, but now she was going to this benefit to satisfy a man and preserve herself professionally. That wasn't the way she wanted to live her life, but she told herself it wouldn't hurt to let herself feel beautiful and magnificent for one night.

With their work done, Sherri, Terry, and Clarice vanished and left Bella alone in the room to soak it in. A few minutes later, there was a knock on the bedroom door. She crossed the room with her dress swishing behind her, and opened it. Mr. Singleton stood before her, and when he looked up from the cufflink he was fiddling with, she could see the awe in his eyes. A smile spread across his lips and his entire face brightened. For a moment, she would never suspect that he could ever be called the Beast of Belton.

“You look amazing,” he said, unable to put any other words together.

“Thank you, Mr. Singleton,” Bella replied, feeling her entire body flutter with excitement.

“Please, call me Kevin tonight,” he said.

“Very well, Kevin. Is it time to go?”

“It is. May I escort you to the car?” he asked humbly.

“Certainly,” she answered, then held out her hand to him.

Kevin took it and led her down the long, winding hallways. Eventually they emerged in the front hallway and made their way out to the limo waiting out front.

As the car wound its way toward the city, the two of them chatted amicably. Bella was once again surprised by how inaccurate the popular opinion of her host could be. He was a sweet man with a gentle nature, but he seemed to hide that at every turn. It made her wonder what had happened to make him such a heartless cutthroat in his professional life. She knew from personal experience that it took a certain degree of control to succeed, but he seemed to take that idea to new heights.

Bella found herself captivated by his boyish charm. Whenever she would crack a small joke, he would let out a hearty laugh that was contagious. There was nothing beastly about him in that moment.

The car pulled up in front of the library, and Kevin jumped out first. When he opened her door, she saw a bright red carpet stretching from the curb up the steps to the door. On each side of the carpet was a line of photographers scrambling to get a picture of the billionaire’s mystery date. Kevin held out his hand and guided her to her feet, then slowly meandered past the press. He would stop every few steps to pose for a photo, and Bella followed his lead nervously. She had never had this much attention focused on her at one time, and it was overwhelming.

The inside of the library had been cleared for a huge dance floor. A small orchestra played softly in the background while women in boisterous gowns were spun across the floor by their dapper dates. It looked like something out of a movie.

Kevin passed her some champagne, and she downed it in a minute. Her quick move made him smile, but he also stopped to pass her another. Bella made a mental note to take this one a little slower while Kevin guided her around the room. He seemed to know everyone there, and many of them were happy to see him. At the same time, there was a fair share that seemed equally fearful and nervous in his presence, and she was once again struck by the two sides of his persona, one personal and one private.

Despite spending a lot of time networking, Kevin seemed to make sure that Bella was more than just arm candy. Every now and then he would pull her aside to a quieter area and chat with her for a bit. After they had finished off a few more glasses of bubbly, he took her by the hand and led her out onto the dance floor.

Kevin was an amazing dancer. Bella had never done any type of ballroom dancing, but her host led her around the floor with a series of twirls and spins that made her feel even more like a princess. She was still in control of herself, but there was something freeing about giving in to his guidance and letting him lead her with the flow of the music. A permanent smile had taken over her face, and she giggled a little more often.

As the night wound down, Kevin notified his assistant that they were ready to make their departure. He said a few goodbyes to his closest colleagues before they made their way outside. Bella felt a comfortable buzz, but she was far from drunk. Being with Kevin seemed to have a calming effect, and she had imbibed a lot less alcohol toward the end of the evening. When they slipped into the back seat of the limo, she was smiling from ear to ear with giddy excitement.

The ride home was even more enjoyable now that she had fallen into stride. Kevin turned the attention away from himself and took a little time to get to know her better.

“How long have you been in the catering business?” he asked, giving her his full attention.

“About ten years now. I started right out of school, but I didn't really get into it until after my divorce last year. After that, I dove in head first to keep myself distracted. Since then, I’ve really found my place in it.”

“Well, I’m sorry to hear about the divorce, but it looks like something good came from it at least.”

“It is a good career,” Bella agreed with a shrug.

“That, too,” he chuckled. “I actually meant it was good because it gave me the chance to meet you.”

Bella blushed and looked away. He was doing something to her, making her feel like a teenage girl. Was she ready for this again? Her scars from John were still fresh, and that made it hard to trust anyone. Kevin seemed different, but after everything she had heard, she wasn't so sure.

He sensed her unease and hurriedly changed the subject.

“Thank you for coming with me tonight. That charity is one of the most important to me. As a child, I was an avid reader, and I feel it's important that books be available to anybody with the desire to find them,” he said, somewhat somber in comparison to their earlier conversations.

“I think that's a great cause,” she said, once again surprised by his humanitarian efforts. She had never read about his charitable side, but something like that wouldn't really sell as many magazines as the sexual harassment charges. “How long have you been involved with the Public Library?”

“I can't even remember, honestly. As soon as I had enough money to share it with others, I was contributing to them. They say that people who like to read have a much broader imagination and much higher level of intellect. What do you think?”

“I agree,” she said, watching his eyes as they returned to her. “It takes a lot of imagination to paint a picture with words, but it can also take you to a whole other world.”

The car had just pulled into the driveway, but Bella was thoroughly lost in those deep blue eyes. A spark of excitement crossed his face, and he smiled gleefully.

“Can I show you something?” he asked her suddenly.

“Okay,” she replied, quite curious about what could light up his face like that.

Kevin exited the car and once again offered his hand. Bella took it and followed his lead. Her dress swished around her feet as they hurried past the stairs and through the belly of the house. They made their way through the maze of hallways until he stopped in front of a huge set of double doors set into a towering archway. She looked at him nervously, wondering where he was taking her.

“Is this some sort of kinky sex room?” she asked, only half jokingly.

“Don't be silly,” he answered, narrowing her eyes at her. “I may be an eccentric billionaire, but I’m not going to make an entire room just for sex. That's just ridiculous.”

The two of them giggled for a moment, before he grabbed one of the door handles and twisted it. The doors opened, and the room beyond was enough to take Bella’s breath away.

The space inside stretched up to the top of the house, taking up two stories of an entire corner of the building. Lining the walls were bookcases stretching all the way to the ceiling. A small balcony surrounded the second level, where more books covered every inch of available space. There were a few small tables and comfy chairs in the center, making the perfect area to sit and disappear into any one of the millions of books surrounding you.

Bella rushed through the door and began perusing the spines closest to her. The subjects were just as varied as the colors of the bindings that held them, from Shakespearean plays to classic Greek and Roman literature, with a selection of modern authors intermixed. It would take a lifetime to read this many books, but she would never be lacking.

Kevin stood just inside the doorway, watching her run about like a kid in a candy factory. Every wall held new surprises that captured her attention for only a moment before she discovered the next one.

There were small ladders on sliding tracks that gave access to the upper shelves. Bella spotted an old leather-bound copy of Huckleberry Finn on one of the higher shelves, and she quickly grabbed one of them and rolled it nearby. Within seconds, she had scaled the ladder and grabbed the book, but as she tried to come down, her bellowing dress caught her foot and she felt herself teeter backwards. Suddenly the air was rushing past her as she toppled backward. She winced in anticipation of the coming impact, but instead she felt the soft embrace of her date, catching her a few feet from the ground.

Kevin had foreseen the accident as soon as she grabbed the ladder, and was already below her when she stumbled. Now Bella looked up into his anxious eyes with his powerful arms holding her, and she felt safe, safer than she had felt since the day she had left John.

Just like that, he was there, inches away from her face. He smiled down at her, his eyes seeming to probe her soul, and she suddenly realized she wanted him. Her eyes drifted closed and his lips were on hers, kissing her as he cradled her in his arms. Bella wrapped her arms around her neck and pulled him closer, wanting to feel his presence. She craved him in a way that she had never wanted any man before. Her entire body ached to feel him.

When he stopped kissing her, Bella knew exactly what she wanted.

“Take me to my room,” she whispered longingly to him.

Kevin turned on his heels and rushed out of the library. His feet seemed to float across the floor as he guided her down the hallways and up a back staircase to the second floor. Bella buried her face against his shoulder and held him close, feeling the power in his body as he carried her. When he pushed through an anonymous set of doors and into the room where she had gotten dressed earlier, he deftly set her down on her feet and pulled her back into a kiss.

Kevin’s lips were rough and firm, brushing against the softness of her skin as he moved down and began kissing her neck. Every touch seemed to fuel her desire even more, driving her crazy with lust. Part of her couldn't understand how she had even gotten here. She didn't even want to come tonight, and now she wanted the Beast of Belton to take her, to control her. She wanted to feel his lips on every inch of her body, but the dress seemed to act like a wall between them.

Bella pushed him away and took a few steps back. It had taken three women to get her into this dress, but taking it off would be much easier. She reached behind her back and slowly pulled the zipper down. The fabric loosened around her, and she pulled it down. As the dress passed below her chest, she remembered that she wasn't wearing a bra, and Kevin would have a clear view of her naked breasts. That didn't bother her though. She wanted to show him. She wanted him to see her.

As the dress collected in a pile around her feet, she stepped out of it toward Kevin in only her panties. He pulled her back into his arms and kissed her again, this time with a fresh passion. His strong hands were on the bare skin of her back, holding her close as their lips came together fervently.

Bella broke away from the kiss and began pawing at any button she could find. First his jacket came off, then the vest below. As she unbuttoned his shirt, Kevin pulled at the bow tie around his neck and tossed it aside. Soon he was down to his undershirt, and she peeled that up and off to reveal his toned body below. Her hands slide over his muscles for a moment before returning to the warmth of his kiss again.

Kevin scooped Bella up in his arms and carried her across the room. He set her down on the edge of the bed and slipped her panties off, then dropped to his knees. She laid back, letting his hands spread her thighs. When his tongue slid along the soft folds of her pussy, she let out a sigh of relief. He began tracing gentle circles around her clitoris, teasing it without touching it. A long, undulating moan escaped her lips, and she grabbed his head as he explored her sex with his mouth.

Kevin’s tongue moved deftly, touching her in places that had been long neglected. Her entire body was vibrating, her muscles trembling. The first pangs of an orgasm started inside her, and when he slid one of his fingers into her wetness, she felt it spread through her body like a tsunami.

As her climax passed, Kevin moved up onto the bed. His body hovered over her, teasing her. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them against the bed above her head, once again showing his fierce dominance.

“Do you want me?” he whispered in her ear as he kissed the soft curve of her neck.

“Yes, please,” Bella pleaded.

“Tell me,” he pressed, his lips brushing her skin.

“I want you inside me,” she begged. “Fuck me.”

For more of this story, check out Welcome to my World by Alex Skylar, only on Amazon!

22 notes · View notes

theyhaveacavetroll · 6 years

Text

rasks replied to your post “I get why the writers chose an open ending. Why they wanted to explore...”

very eloquently put and this is also why i've been stalling like hell when it comes to finishing s4

Honestly, I loved the last season, like I did all the seasons of Black Sails. I laughed, I cried (I cried a lot), and I just - I get why they made the choices they did, I get that they were TRYING to rip my heart out through the walls of my chest, and they did a good job of that, and one of these days I’m probably going to look back and be grateful actually that they taught me again how to be angry. That... was something I needed back so in a way I’m glad the series ended the way it did, but on the other hand - James. Oh gods, James, and Madi, my babies, my revolutionary darlings, they deserved so much better than that. They were SO CLOSE and they cared about each other so much and they. deserved. better. than that. And on some level I think I’m always going to be angry that history and Treasure Island conspired to mean that they couldn’t have what they deserved so very much.

#rasks

3 notes · View notes

shanastoryteller · 7 years

Note

Your Athena made me cry, I'd like you to know. And we got Medusa! Who, her ending, wow, just. Wow. And the whole thing with Aphrodite and Athena was really interesting, and like Hephestus is shaping up to be the most wanted of the gods, which yes.(Her gift is to turn all who would harm Medusa in that way to stone. It acts as a curse, but she meant it as a gift, and gahhh) Also, Amphitrite is super interesting and is there any way I could tempt you into expanding on her? Or, well. Any more, truly

Zeus claims the sky ashis domain, free and open and pure, and his it becomes.

Hades goes to theunderworld, and it’s messy and horrible and heartbreaking, but he claims ituncontested, and his it becomes.

Poseidon goes to the sea,but it already has a sovereign.

His first though is thatshe’s beautiful. Skin the color of pearls and hair the dark, rich green ofseaweed. She’s tall with the type of aristocratic bone structure that wouldmake him think her delicate if not every other aspect of her was as fearsome asHera at her most irritable.

“You come to my landseeking to make it your own,” she says, and she’s not quite walking and notquite swimming as she circles him. “Who are you to rule the sea?”

He clears his throat, andhe’s a powerful god, he and his brothers are the most powerful gods that stillexist on this earth, but his knees shake before her. It’s not a good feeling. It’snot infatuation – it’s fear. “I am Poseidon.”

She tilts her head, andher pretty blue eyes are as cold as sea floor they stand in. “Goodbye, Poseidon.Perhaps your brother will be able to find what’s left of your corpse in hisunderworld.”

The water whips aroundhim, doing its best to rip him apart, forcing itself into his lungs andsuffocating him. He didn’t think he could drown, but he might be about to beproven wrong.

Then a net closes aroundhim, pulling him up so he breaks through the surface and takes a large,grateful gulp of air. He’s hauled over the side of a boat and dumped on itsfloor, the person who saved him wildly fighting the angry waves. “You must havereally pissed the Lady off,” a light, teasing voice says. Poseidon is stillcoughing, his eyes watering and lungs screaming. This boat is going to capsizeand they’ll both die, so he doesn’t get how this person can sound so lighthearted.

Except they’re not. Theirlittle boat is being expertly handled against the thrashing waves. Poseidonblinks, and he’s inclined to say the person sailing is a woman, considering thebudding breasts and hips. But the hair is cut short, and the chiton is designedfor a man.

“What’s your name?” heasks.

“Caeneus,” his unexpectedrescuer answers.

That’s a man name, andPoseidon opens his mouth to questions it – then closes it again. “Thank you,”he settles on, “You saved my life.”

Caeneus finally steersthem to land, and Poseidon dismounts to help him pull and anchor his boat toshore. “Anytime,” he says cheerfully, “What did you do to make the Lady so mad,anyway?”

“You know her?” he asks,staring. This man appears to be a mere mortal, yet how could a human know thatwoman?

He grins at Poseidon andpoints out to the glittering sea. “We all do. She is the ocean itself, and justas powerful and unknowable. You better be careful not to anger her again – I don’tknow anyone who’s survived her wrath twice.”

“Right,” he says blankly,even though that’s unavoidable. He’s to be the god of the sea, and if he has towrest the mantle of monarch from her corpse then so be it.

Caeneus claps him on theshoulder, his work-roughed palm more comforting than anything else Poseidon hasknown since escaping his father’s stomach. “Come to mine, you look half dead. I’llmake you something warm.”

He takes a long look athis savior. Skin a dark shade of brown, and his eyes are amber in the settingsun. His black hair is cut short, and the muscles of his arms and legs shiftwith each moment. “Very well,” he answers, and is inordinately grateful that he’stoo cold to blush.

Caeneus takes him to hishome, a hastily constructed shack on the beach’s edge. The wind whips throughthe cracks in the wood so that no matter where you stand you’re always chilled.“This is the worst woodwork I’ve ever seen,” he says. He slides his hand acrossthe wall and is completely unsurprised when it comes away with splinters.

“I’m a sailor, not a carpenter,”Caeneus answers, intent on mixing together a bunch of ingredients Poseidon onlyhalf recognizes. “It stay upright.”

“Barely,” he returns,cupping his hands around the cup that’s shoved at him.

Caeneus doesn’t ask himto leave. Instead they squeeze onto Caeneus’s too small bed. Poseidon curls aroundthe smaller man, tangling their legs and tucking Caeneus’s head under his chin.“You’re so warm,” Caeneus murmurs, half asleep already, and Poseidon’s heartclenches.

He makes sure he’s asleepwhen he carefully, so carefully, lowers his head and brushes his lips against Caeneus’scheek.

When Poseidon wakes up,the sun is bright and Caeneus is gone.

He should go marchingback to the ocean, but first he has something important to do. He’s just notsure how to go about it.

He can’t ask Zeus, hisyounger brother knows plenty of war and not much else. Which leaves –

It’s easy enough to slipinto the underworld, although he regrets doing so the second he arrives. It’salmost completely dark, and lonely. Lost souls are immediately reaching forhim, cold hands brushing against his skin.

“What are you doing?” afamiliar voice demands, and Poseidon nearly wilts in relief when Hades appearsat his side and guides him away from the wailing souls. “It’s not safe here.”

“What’s wrong with them?”he asks, glancing back, his chest clenching at sympathy at their cries eventhough he knows there’s nothing he can do for them.

They slip through therealm, and they land in front of a partially built stone castle. The goddess Hecateguides them construction with her magic, her visage that of a young child sinceit’s still morning in the mortal realm.

Hades sits on the ground,and the skin beneath his eyes is dark and bruised. He looks like a strong windwould blow him over. “Nothing, everything, I don’t know. I’m working on it. Whyare you here?”

“I don’t suppose you knowhow to build a house?” he asks, though he doesn’t expect much. It seems he’snot the only one having trouble claiming authority over his domain.

His brother laughs, eyescrinkling at the corners. “You’ve come to the wrong sibling, little brother.”

Oh. That’s true. “Do youthink she’ll help me?”

“Yes,” Hades answers,lips still twitching. “Now leave me to my anarchy, I have more than enoughtrouble to deal with without you causing more.”

That’s fair enough.

Poseidon heads to Olympusnext, careful to peer around corners to avoid Zeus and Hera. Their marblepalace is already constructed, and he tamps down on the bitterness that theyrule unchallenged. In the center of the throne room, next to a roaring fire,sits Hestia.

“Sister,” he greets,tentative. “I need help building a home.”

She looks from her fireto him, and when she smiles he feels all his tension drain from his shoulders. “Ofcourse, little brother. If it is help you require, then it is help you shallhave.”

Hestia tears apart theshack with a flick of her hands, says, “I’ll ask Demeter for some better wood,”and is gone and back in the blink of an eye. They build it by hand after that,and Hestia’s soft voice guides him whenever he hesitates or stumbles. They aregods, so it doesn’t take too long, and when they finish they have a small,beautiful house right on the edge of beach, one with a large bed and lots oflight, one with a fire pit in the center that has Hestia’s name inscribed inthe bottom so that she may look over this home she helped build.

“Thank you,” Poseidonsays, the sun beginning to set.

Hestia winks at him, “Anytime,little brother,” and is gone in the next moment.

He hopes Caeneus likesit. Unfortunately, he won’t be able to stick around to find out.

He has a queen tochallenge.

He finds her again, inher palace of polished rock at the bottom of the sea.

“There’ll be no helpfulsailor to save you this time,” she says, head tilted to the side. Already thewater is colder around him, the current stronger.

He swallows, “I amPoseidon. I am to be the god of the sea.”

She glances him over,unimpressed. “Why do you want it so badly? There is nothing about you that is ofthe sea.”

“I am a god,” he answersblankly, and doesn’t say that it was this or the underworld, and that wasn’t amess he was willing to take on.

She snorts, a flicker ofamusement appearing in her emotionless gaze. “You are too soft, and too kind,to ever be a master of the sea.” He opens his mouth, but she raises a hand, andhe closes it. She takes slow, deliberate steps towards him, and he swallows anddoesn’t look away. “I will make you a bargain, Poseidon, god of nothing.”

“I’m listening,” heanswers, and tries not flinch when she places a cold hand against his chest.

“I am Amphitrite,” shesays, “sister of Gaia, and I have lived long before your conception, just as Iwill live long after your death.” Poseidon pales, and oh, he had no idea the class being he was dealing with here. Thisis very, very bad. “If you wish to rule the sea, then you must rule me.”

He swallows, “Lady, I – athousand apologies, I did not know–”

“Silence.” His mouthclicks shut. “I was born as I am, and I will die that way. But – I need notlive this way.” He doesn’t understand, and she must see that, because shetouches her own chest and says, “I have a heart as cold and dark as the oceansI bore. I will give it to you, and I and the sea will be yours to command. ButI require your heart in return, so that I may know kindness and softness.”

He doesn’t know what tosay. Hearts aren’t things to be given away lightly. But he must become lord of the sea.

“Take time, if you must,”she says, that same cold amusement in her eyes. “I am as immovable as the ocean,and I will be here when you make up your mind.”

He’s propelled up andonto the shore, far more gently this time around.

“POSEIDON!” he barelyturns when a body slams into him, and lips press against his. Caeneus pins hiswrists to the sand and kisses him, long and slow and more than distractingenough to make him forgot about the offer from the personification of the seaitself. “You built me a house,” he murmurs, “You built me a house.”

“Do you like it?” heasks, dazed.

Caeneus grins above him,wicked and beautiful, and rolls his hips into Poseidon’s. “Come with me, and I’llshow you how much I like it.”

Poseidon means to go backto the sea, to Amphitrite, but every morning Caeneus kisses him good morning.He learns of the sea, though. He goes out with Caeneus each day and learns itmotions and its temper, the taste and smell of it. Learns how to understand it,and learns how completely and totally uncaring it is, how the coldness of itsdepth is the totality of it.

The sea is not kind. Ithas no sympathy, no love, no capacity for such small things as forgiveness ormercy.

He means to return toher, but it becomes harder and harder every day.

Days turn to weeks turnto months. He and Caeneus grow closer, and closer, and Poseidon has no idea howhe’s supposed to turn his heart over to Amphitrite when it’s now held by amortal with amber eyes who leaves mouth shaped bruises all along Poseidon’scollar bones.

“Poseidon,” Caeneus says,quiet in the oppressive stillness of the night, head on his chest and curledinto his side. The moon is large and high, and pools silver on their bedroomfloor. “You’re a god, right?”

“I am,” Poseidon says,amused. Caeneus knows what he is, but this is the first time he’s mentioned it.

Caeneus pushes himself upso he can look down at him, and Poseidon reaches up to cup his face. Caeneusleans into it, covering his hand with his own. “Could you make me into a man?”

“You are a man,” he saysautomatically.

He rolls his eyes andpulls himself up so he can swing his leg over Poseidon, straddling his hips. “Youknow what I mean.”

Poseidon shifts enoughthat both their breaths hitch, and he says, low, “No. I’m sorry. I’m not – I haveno domain, and my powers are limited.” He could maybe do it, but transformation is not among his natural talents,and Caeneus is too precious to risk unless he is certain.

He’s disappointed, butsmiles through it, and leans down to kiss him. “It’s all right.”

It’s not. If Poseidonwere the god of the sea in more than name, if he had taken Amphitrite’s offer,he would be able to transform his lover like he desires.

He’s a god, brother ofZeus, and he can’t give Caeneus the one thing he’s ever asked of him. What goodis he, what good is any of his power, if he can’t make the people he loveshappy?

He’s flips Caeneus overand kisses his neck so his lover won’t see the self-hatred that’s plain on hisface.

Poseidon sneaks away inthe middle of the night, presses a soft kiss to his sleeping lover’s slack mouth,and enters the ocean.

“You’ve decided then?”she asks, head tilted to the side.

“I will not be a loyalhusband,” he declares, back straight. “I love Caeneus.”

She laughs, and for thefirst time he’s not afraid of her. “Do with your mortals what you wish. It’s noconcern of mine.”

“Okay,” he says, andsteels himself. “Okay. I accept your offer Amphitrite, sister of Gaia.”

She holds out her hand,nails more like claws, and tears open her own chest without flinching. Herblood slick and dark as it pours from her, swirling in the water around themShe pulls a dark, round thing from her chest and holds it out to him.

“I,” he looks down at hischest, and he doesn’t – he’s not sure if he can do what she’s done, and hewould feel foolish asking for a knife. Shesteps forward and places her hand with its claws against his chest, slippery andwarm with blood, and cuts open his chest for him.

It’s excruciating, andhis knees buckle against the pain of it. Amphitrite holds him up, and waits.

She can’t to this part.It has to be him. He reaches inside his chest and pulls out his heart, beating andwarm. He clumsily places it in her chest. It’s startlingly, violently redagainst the dark green color of the rest of the inside of her. She does thesame, slipping her own heart into his chest.

Their skin heals overinstantly. Amphitrite’s mouth drops open, and her cheeks flush pink. Shesmiles, small and soft, and for the first time she looks – happy.

Her heart in his chestcold as ice, and its chill suffuses his body, edging out to fill him entirely.

He can feel the oceannow, all of it spread across the globe, the tides and the creatures the residein it, it’s plants and animals and nymphs. “It’s so much,” he says, and is surprisedat the sound of his own voice, at its curtness.

“You feel only part ofit,” she says, stepping forward, “It is a force too powerful for a god tocontrol. I am a force to powerful fora god to control. However, you hold my heart. As I will now obey you, so willthe sea.”

“You could overpower me,”he says clinically, knows the power she wields by what he can’t feel ratherthan what he can.

She presses a hand to hischest, and they both startle. She’s warm now. She wasn’t warm before. Orperhaps he has simply grown colder. “I could,” she says, “but I will not.”

He has no reason to trusther, but he’s painfully aware that he doesn’t have a choice in the matter. “I’mgoing to Caeneus,” he says, and a sense of unease grows within him. Even theshape of his lover’s name in his mouth doesn’t feel the same anymore.

“Do as you wish, husband,”she turns from him, going deeper into her – their – palace.

This time, he uses hisown powers of the sea to push him to the surface.

It’s not as satisfying ashe thought it’d be.

gods and monsters series part x

#gods and monsters series #part one of two because this got too long #amphitrite's pov for the next one #thanks for all your sweet words anon!#i hope you liked it!#poseidon's origin story #also poseidon is asian #poseidon #amphitrite #caeneus #hestia #hades #greek myth #Greek Mythology #long post

2K notes · View notes

believingispowerfulmagic · 7 years

Text

Reunited at Last (Part I)

@regalhoodie17 HAPPY BIRTHDAY! There is more to this, I’m still working on it. I’m afraid I finally decided on a good direction for this story...last night. But there’s more coming and coming soon.

I hope you enjoy!

Regina Mills had a very mediocre life. Everyday was the same routine. She woke up at dawn, had breakfast and then dressed for the day. Regina would then drive over to the large building right by the docks, park her car and get in line with all the other drones waiting to clock in. Once she punched in, she would put on her apron and gloves before taking her place on the line. Then it was eight hours of filling cans with fish meat before sending them down the line to be sealed and labeled. It was mindless work and killed her feet, even standing around in sneakers. She had two breaks--one in the morning for coffee and then one in the afternoon for lunch. Neither were particularly long and the farthest she could go was outside to sit on the docks to watch the ships in the harbor.

When the final whistle blew, she would take off her apron and throw out the gloves she had been using before getting in line to clock out. She would climb in her car, go home and make dinner. After a couple hours of TV or reading, she would then fall asleep to prepare to do it all over again.

It wasn’t an exciting life, she knew, but it was the best she could do at the moment. There had been precious few opportunities for an orphan like her, abandoned by a mother who then left town to live a life free of the burden of being an unwed mother and who left no clue as to who Regina’s father might’ve been. Regina was raised and educated by the sisters who ran the orphanage and while she excelled at her studies, it still wasn’t enough to get her a scholarship to college. She had taken the job at the cannery in hopes of saving enough money to move away from Storybrooke, go to school and become so much more than an orphaned drone.

Yet almost two decades later, Regina had long abandoned that dream. Instead, she found a new one. She spent weekends working on new recipes and baking different pastries and cakes in her house. And she had found the perfect little storefront for a bakery. She “borrowed” books about businesses from the library (technically, she guessed one would say she stole them since the library had been closed for years and she had to pick the lock to get the books) and put together what she believed to be a practical business plan to present to the bank and Town Hall.

The manager of the bank seemed impressed by all her hard work and had seemed willing to give her a small business loan. Yet Town Hall had disagreed and refused to give her a permit. Regina had tried several times, altering her plan to make it more palatable, but she was denied every time.

For her latest attempt, Regina had sat in Town Hall, dressed in the suit she had gotten just for meetings with the bank and Town Hall. It was a plain but professional looking black skirt suit with a red silk blouse underneath. She had pulled her hair back into a bun and with her briefcase, looked like she could easily work for Town Hall. It just seemed that her lot in life kept her at the cannery, she had thought bitterly as Mayor West approached her. The mayor was not much older than Regina but had the life Regina’s could’ve had their situations been reversed. She had been born into a prominent family in Storybrooke who had spared no expense for her education and had already secured a place in government for her. No one else had the experience and knowledge she had, so she had run unopposed as their mayor for quite some time.

Mayor West’s expensive green and black dress, manicured nails and jewelry were a far cry from Regina’s appearance but she held her head high as the mayor sat down next to her. “Regina, while we respect your determination and admire your ability to put together this business plan,” she started.

“You’re still not giving me a permit,” Regina realized, her heart sinking.

“No,” the mayor confirmed. “We’re not.”

Regina clenching her fists together, trying to stay calm as she asked: “And why not?”

“Because we can’t be sure you can deliver on your business plan. You have no formal training and only a high school diploma,” Mayor West explained. “And you’ve been working at the cannery since you were eighteen, but you’re still in a low-level position. You’ve never been promoted or advanced in any way.”

“No one ever gets promoted. There are no openings up the chain of command,” Regina pointed out, seething.

Mayor West nodded sympathetically before asking: “But even if there were, Regina, do you think you would be given one of them?”

The implications were clear to Regina. Despite years of working at the cannery and being an exemplary employee, her bosses were still likely to pass over someone like her--an average person with no degrees. She was stuck in her dead-end job until she either retired or died.

“I know this must be soul-crushing, Regina, but I think it’s best if you face the truth. Some people are meant to sail amongst the stars...and you’re not one of them,” Mayor West told her, placing her hand over one of Regina’s fists. “It’s time to accept your lot in life.”

Feeling tears burning her eyes, Regina stood and took a deep breath. “Thank you for your time, Madam Mayor. I’m sure you have more important things to do, so I’ll leave you to it. Good day.”

She turned and stormed out of Town Hall, finally letting the tears fall as she neared the local park. Regina plopped down on a bench, placed her head in her hands and cried. No matter what she did, she realized now she would never be good enough. She would never own her own bakery and she would never be free of the cannery.

She would never be special.

“Why are you crying?” a young girl asked.

Regina raised her head and blinked back some tears to find the speaker standing right in front of her. For a moment, she wondered if she was caught in a movie where the protagonist is visited by the spirit of the child she had once been as the young girl could almost have passed for Regina when she was younger. Dark black hair was braided into two neat plaits and she had a tan complexion that stood out in a small town in Maine where no one could get tan. She also wore the familiar blue jumper and white shirt of the convent school, meaning she was an orphan as well.

The two big differences that convinced Regina she wasn’t being haunted by her younger self were that the girl had bright blue eyes instead of brown and the soft smile she was giving Regina revealed two dimples on either side of her face. She held out a tissue to Regina. “Here.”

“Thank you,” Regina said, taking the tissue. “I’m just having a bad day.”

“Oh. Well, I’m sure it’ll get better,” the girl said, sitting down next to her.

Regina shook her head. “I doubt it. My life is awful and all attempts to change it have failed. But that’s my problem, not yours.”

“You’re not going to give up, though, right?” the girl asked, frowning.

“I don’t have a choice. Sometimes, things just don’t work out and dreams don’t come true,” Regina said, feeling all her bitterness creeping to the surface. She turned to the girl and felt awful. This child had her whole life ahead of her and just because Regina failed to rise beyond her circumstances didn’t mean that this girl couldn’t. “You should run along. I’m not someone you want to be around.”

“You’re Regina Mills, right?” the girl asked.

Surprised that she would know her name, Regina nodded. “How do you know that? Who are you?”

“My name is Diana Locksley.” The girl then turned and pulled a big book from her backpack. It had a brown cover with pages lined in gold, which matched the lettering on the front of the book--Once Upon a Time. She held it out to Regina. “This told me your name. And it also told me that I’m your daughter.”

For days, Regina tried to put the young girl who thought she was her daughter from her mind. She knew about wanting a family so bad and seizing on any opportunity to possibly have one. It made her feel sory for the girl but there was no way Regina had ever given birth, which she was given to believe was a pretty unforgettable experience. Her last relationship had been a short-lived romance in high school with a boy named Daniel. Regina’s memories were fuzzy now but she believed the sisters had been strict about her dating and so Daniel had moved on to someone who didn’t have to sneak out of a convent to meet him. After that, Regina didn’t have many prospects as most men in Storybrooke were either married or put off by the smell of fish that always clung to her thanks to the cannery. That had also ruled out one-night stands--though Regina was more interested in something more long-term than that.

Which meant that she was pushing forty and still a virgin.

However, she couldn’t explain away how much Diana actually looked like her. They could realistically pass for mother and daughter. And the girl had been so adamant, that it made even Regina doubt her own memories. Her guilty pleasure of real life mystery shows didn’t help either, putting ideas of how someone might be able to give birth and not remember so afterward. These theories drove her to the hospital over a week after meeting Diana and into a pair of stirrups so Dr. Whale could perform a gynecological exam on her.

The appointment started off normally. Dr. Whale flirted with her while prodding her private parts, all of which made Regina grit her teeth as she cursed the fact he seemed to be the only doctor in the hospital. She just laid back and took it, waiting for him to finish and confirm what her rational mind already told her was true.

It changed halfway through, though. Dr. Whale stopped flirting and grew serious as he continued his examination. He paused, grabbing Regina’s medical file and flipping through it. Wrinkles appeared between his brows as he once again resumed his examination. Only a few seconds later, though, he paused and checked her file once more.

“Is something wrong?” she finalled asked after several minutes of tense silence.

He closed the file and looked up at her, baffled yet serious. “Regina, I need to ask you something and I need you to answer honestly. I promise there will be no consequences for whatever you tell me. Have you ever given birth?”

“Not to my knowledge, no,” she replied honestly. Her heart sped up and she wondered what this meant for Diana’s proclamation.

“Okay,” he said, sighing as he ran a hand through his platinum hair. “That matches with your records. The problem is, that isn’t what your body is telling me. You show signs of having delivered a baby. Not recently but you did it.”

There appeared to be some credence to what Diana had told her after all. She swallowed before asking: “How could I give birth and not remember it?”

“The mind is very complicated,” Dr. Whale replied. “There’s a lot we don’t understand. So it could be possible that you gave birth and something happened that made you block from your memories.”

“But I’ve never had sex,” Regina insisted.

He shook his head. “That’s not what your body is telling me either. Look, there’s a lot of possible scenarios, a lot of them pretty awful. Maybe...Maybe you should talk to Dr. Hopper about this?”

There was merit to Whale’s suggestion. Dr. Hopper had to know tricks that might help her remember possibly giving birth. Maybe even who the father was, though Regina doubted it was someone she wanted in her life or Diana’s if she couldn’t even remember him.

Recalling her mini-me, Regina bit her lip. “What if...What if I possibly know that child?”

“If you do, I might suggest a maternity test,” Whale said. “If you can bring him or her here to the hospital I can have them compare your DNA to see if there’s a relationship.”

“I’ll see if I can do that,” Regina said, taking her legs from the stirrups and sitting up properly. “Thank you, Doctor.”

He nodded. “I really hope we figure out what happened to you, Regina.”

“Me too,” she said. “Me too.”

#once upon a time #outlaw queen #oq au #oq ff #regalhoodie17

37 notes · View notes