#so 1 week only between chapter 28 and 29 and 30

[moonshine-nightlight]

tomorrow's Dale is going to brought to you by the three shots i'm having this afternoon as i write and hit different word count thresholds because that's where i'm at today

we'll find out tomorrow when editing!me has to deal with this chapter if i should be telling you to thank me or apologizing 🤣

Current Word Count: 3,028

[shewhohangsoutincemeteries]

to ashes, development

Clint Barton x F!Reader

To Ashes, Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Summary: a development on a mission means it's time to move on.

Warnings: angst, fluff, canon-typical violence.

Word Count: 2,313

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Days Since the Decimation: Three Years, Eighty-Five Days

“Holy shit, you got any idea how fuckin’ hard I am right now?”

You wrinkled your nose. “Oh, gross.”

Clint frowned.

“What? It’s seedy as hell,” you waved a hand. “You take me to the worst places.”

You swore, you could actually see him roll his eyes from the other side of the building. “Not exactly poetic, are they?”

The two of you were on top of an old disused warehouse in Harringay, listening with distaste as the men inside discussed their, ugh, merchandise. What was it with men and guns?

The weapons ring you’d fought in Holland Park was still at large, and Clint had spent the last two weeks tracking them down again. Honestly it was a testament to them that it had taken him this long, even without his old SHIELD connections. Whoever they were, they weren’t street level thugs.

…It made you feel the tiniest bit better about them getting the better of you in the park.

Clint had scrubbed through the local police files for any clues as to where they were setting up house. Between that and his own reconnaissance, he’d managed to track one of their prominent dealers to right under your feet.

“You still clear on the plan?”

Nodding, you unhooked the safety hood of your holster. “Yeah. Yeah, I got it.”

“Y/N…”

You looked up with a raised brow, fixing him with a pointed look. “Are you really about to lecture me about not taking revenge?”

Clint met your eye with an almost exasperated expression. “Point taken.”

“You ready for this?”

“That’s my line.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.” you smirked, stretching out a kink in your neck. “Let’s go to work.”

***

You were really getting tired of these guys.

That’s the only thought that came to you as you rolled behind the crates to your left, gun still in your hand. You came to a kneel, your back meeting the wood with a dull thump. They were too prepared, to ready for the two of you.

This wasn’t supposed to end in a shootout. This was supposed to be a quick job, and yet�� how did they know about the two of you? They’d mentioned a boss in the park, someone who had guessed you’d been Clint’s back up, but still… they knew you were coming. Not well enough to lay a proper trap, to ambush you before you got inside, but well enough to be ready.

You ducked lower with a curse as wood shattered above you, large splinters raining down on top of you. Thankful for the hood that kept them out of your hair, you exhaled and turned to fire two shots back around the corner. One shot went wide, but you smiled grimly as the second bullet buried itself in a man’s shoulder. He cursed in a heavy Eastern European accent as you ducked back behind the crate.

“Did you have a plan B for tonight, or are we winging this?” you said into your comms. You heard a cry go up among those shooting at you, followed by shouts of confusion and a few wild shots. You winced despite yourself for a second, waiting for a response in your ear to assure you that they’d missed.

“I’m working on one,” Clint replied gruffly, and you released a small, relieved breath despite your faith in him.

“So… winging it, it is then,” you sighed wearily, setting a new magazine into your handgun and adjusting your hold on the grip. “You know, I kinda hate being the one to draw their fire.”

“I’ll make note of it for next time,” he replied dryly, and another gurgling cry went up among the men between the two of you as Clint shot back out of the shadows long enough to take one of them down. He sliced up two – the one you’d wounded and the man closest to him. “Don’t do anything stupid, alright? We’ve got this under control.”

“Do we?”

“You doubt me?”

“I—”

“Fuck this!” shouted one of them – a burly brunette with a greying beard and tattoos scattered over his biceps. “Get one of the pushka out here and end this!”

“Clint—” you said warningly, stealing a glance over the crates.

“Don’t panic,” he warned, and you swore you caught the glimpse of silver in a brief shift of the light to let you know exactly where he was. “You’re not their biggest problem right now.”

“Clint—”

A deafening blast sounded and you fell forward, hands flying automatically to your ears. The crate to your left exploded – as did the wall in front of you, burst apart in a wave of electric blue energy.

“Holy—”

“Y/N!”

“I’m fine, just—”

“Forget the bitch! Get the Ronin!”

You scrambled away from where you’d hidden, throwing yourself behind an old forklift. Too late, you realized you’d left your gun behind, having dropped it when your hands had flown to your ears. Swearing to yourself, you winced as another blast fired. The building itself groaned as they blew another hole in a wall.

“What the hell is that thing?!”

“Just get outta here, Y/N! I’ll distract—”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Barton!”

“Just go!” he barked back. “Now!”

“Goddamn it!” you growled, standing as you heard the men shout that they’d spotted the Ronin above them. You saw the gun – a bazooka-like cannon – turn upward, point directly at the shadowy figure above. “Stubborn-ass-son-of-a—”

The blaster fired, and you swept your arm upward in the same moment. A shield appeared seconds before the energy wave could hit Clint, knocking him to the side. The energy wave just barely glanced off the shield before blowing a hole in the roof and sending debris collapsing down on the men below.

“What are you—?”

“Take the moment, Clint; you can yell at me later!” you spat back through gritted teeth, sprinting towards the group still shielding themselves from falling bricks and timber. “Get out! I’m right behind you!”

Pulling the knife from the back of your belt, you turned it in your grip and plunged it into the hand of the man closest to the crate they’d pulled the pushka from, ignoring the way he screamed. You released it, instead grabbing the first weapon you could from the crate – thankfully, a much smaller hand-gun style weapon – and kept running. A few men managed to get off a few shots before you were clear, and you winced as you felt a bullet tear through your sleeve to graze your forearm.

Feet pounding too loud on the pavement, you made it quickly to an alleyway across the street, tucking your prize under your injured arm as you grabbed hold of the rung of a fire escape ladder with your other arm and swung yourself upwards. You could hear the building behind you continue to collapse as you climbed the ladder, and you winced as a hand gripped yours as you reached the top.

“Are you insane?”

“Are you?” you shot back breathlessly as Clint pulled you up onto the roof beside him. “What the hell kind of plan was that? You were gonna let them shoot you with that thing?”

“I’m faster than I look, Y/N,” he pointed out sourly. “And now they know—”

“They don’t know shit,” you argued. “There’s no way they could see the difference between that shield and whatever the hell they were shooting at us with.”

“It was still really stupid, Y/N.”

“You’re welcome.”

Clint gave you a look that somehow managed to look grateful and exasperated all at once.

“Oh, and I totally get MVP this mission.”

“Is that a thing?” he replied dryly.

“It is now,” you said proudly, finally managing to catch your breath. Ignoring the pain throbbing in your arm, you held out the gun you’d stolen. “Ta-freakin’-da, Barton.”

***

“Lat—”

“What?”

Clint repeated himself louder, but his voice was still muffled by the wood of the door and the spray of the shower.

“What?”

You heard the shower door open and a few dull sounds before the bathroom door in front of you opened. Water dripped over Clint’s bare torso and soaked his hair, one hand clutching the towel slung around his waist. You watched him hesitate as he met your gaze, watched the adam’s apple in his throat bob. “Latveria.”

“Lat– Latveria?”

“This is starting to feel dangerously like a bit,” Clint said dryly, stepping back into the shower stall. You felt heat rise in your face as he closed the door and the towel was thrown up over the top of it. You stood awkwardly in the doorway for a moment before closing the lid of the toilet and perching on the edge of it. “That’s where the weapons are being made.”

“And they’ve made it all the way out here?” you replied, swallowing as you tried to pointedly avoid staring at the shower. The stall was made of textured, frosted glass, and while it granted Clint modesty, you could still just make out his silhouette against the screen. His hands rose to scrub through his hair, his profile turned just barely away from you.

“They’re global,” Clint told you, raising his voice over the spray. “I heard reports of them turning up in New York back before… Fury had someone else working on it.”

“And we just happened to stumble onto them in a park in London?”

Clint’s hands lingered at the back of his neck. “They’ve been making bigger waves lately. Guess she’s been getting a little cockier since the Decimation wiped out half the authorities that could work their case.”

“‘She’?”

Clint’s hands moved down his chest to his stomach, and you lowered your gaze to the floor, face burning. Your thighs pressed together despite yourself. You knew your voice had broken slightly as you’d spoken that one word.

“Lucia von Bardas.”

The water shut off, and you straightened slightly, your hands threaded together in your lap. The towel disappeared into the stall. “Should I recognize the name?”

“Only if you’re trying to be familiar with Eastern European politics,” Clint told you, the shower stall opening after a moment. “She’s a pretty big name in Latverian political parties. She’s got interests in most of the big exporters coming out of that place, including Von Doom Industries. There’s been rumors of her dealing in some… less than legal businesses for a while now. Guess now we’ve actually got some proof.”

Clint stepped out; the towel tucked securely around his waist once more. He seemed to be avoiding your eye, wiping down the foggy mirror with his palm.

“And?”

“And what?”

“We’re going to take her out, right?”

You stood up, and Clint met your eye in the mirror. He sighed.

“That expression tells me you’ve already decided on the answer for us.”

***

“I’m starting to miss Stark’s money.” Clint sighed, settling back into the seat beside you.

“You’re the one who books these oh-so-deluxe travel arrangements,” you pointed out, attempting to find a comfortable position against the firm back of the bus seat. “You’d think with your super-ninja-spy-magic you’d be able to get us a fancier ride.”

“I’m not a ninja,” he told you patiently. “Or magic.”

“You’re a little magic.”

Clint shook his head with a smile; you were sure there was faint color on his cheeks as he dropped his head back against the headrest.

“So, how long exactly is this ride?”

He answered with his eyes closed. “…About two days.”

“Two days?!” you repeated, when you saw his smile grow slightly, you scowled. “I kinda hate you, you know.”

“I thought I was magic.”

“Magic and despised.”

He chuckled; eyes still closed. The bus pulled away from the curb, surprisingly empty. The sky outside was already dark, and the glow of the streetlights passed over the archer’s face. “We’re less likely to be recognized on the bus.”

“Curse you and your logic.”

Clint didn’t reply, and the two of you sat in silence for twenty minutes before you spoke again.

“It’s a little annoying how easily you can fall asleep.”

He smirked; eyes still stubbornly closed. “I’m not asleep.”

“…How about now?”

“Were you always this annoying on road trips?” he teased.

You laughed, closing your eyes too. “Oh, please. You’d be so bored without me.”

***

You opened your eyes slowly, blinking away the sleep still lingering. You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep, but the wide expanse of road ahead of the bus told you you’d left the city a long time again, as did the faint pink glow tainting the deep purple of the night sky. You shifted, brow furrowing as you felt the warmth pressed up against your side and the rough fabric against your cheek. A comfortable weight rested against the crown of your head, and you frowned against the fuzziness still clinging to your tired mind.

Your eyes finally cleared to settle on the color of Clint’s jacket, and you felt his breath fan softly against your hair. You’d fallen asleep, your head falling against his shoulder, and he’d apparently done the same. His cheek was pressed against your hair, his breathing steady and even. A smile touched your lips as you let the sensation of his chest rising and falling lull you back into rest, and you ignored the sensible part of your brain that was trying to remind you that you were supposed to maintaining your distance from him.

Your eyes fell to your lap as your eyelids began to droop, and warmth flared in your cheeks. Your hand was on your thigh, and Clint’s rested beside it, his fingertips settled on the back of your hand. Your skin was warm and tingled under his touch.

Had he… had he been holding your hand?

.

.

.

tags: @trekkingaroundasgard @lovely-dreamer19 @wittyforachange @wefracturedmotivation @january-echoes @glossyloner @capitalnineteen @youclickedthislink @s0ftness @castieltrash1 @drakelover78 @queenoftheunderdark @lol-you-thought @akumune@xxboesefrauxx @enna-core@hearmyharmony@katsies @youralphawolf72 @maenji@rhymesmenagerie@gwianasky @melaclintbartoncorner @loki-is-loved@whovianayesha @bradfordbantams@alice-the-nerd@fanofallthefics @ace-fandom-dumbass @kaelyn-lobrutto24@twsssmlmaa @earth-pig-fish@meeksmusic83@hallothankmas@justanothermagicalsara@janineb86 @darsynia@rhymesmenagerie @thatwelshbi @lauraashley93@darkwhisperswolf

[50calmadeuce]

Four years ago, you met Jake 'Hangman' Seresin on a school trip to Texas for veterinary school. After a shot gun wedding, he was called back on a mission and you decided to go home. After a work accident caused you to lose the baby, Jake wanted you to quit Veterinary school and you told him no. Not understanding why, Jake concentrated on his Naval career and you concentrated on your Veterinary career. Now an established large animal vet in Wisconsin, your estranged husband decides he wants to come home. The two of you have been away from each other for four years, will the two of you reconnect, or will this be the end?

Warning: Mention of miscarriage. Some chapters have sex.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know. :)

Chapter 1: Going Home Chapter 2: Two Weeks and Counting Down Chapter 3: Getting Past the Hurt Chapter 4: The Riding Ring Chapter 5: Making Up Is Hard to Do Chapter 6: Confession Chapter 7: The Talk Chapter 8: Invitation Chapter 9: Flying to Texas Chapter 10: Texas Memories Chapter 11: Texas Now Chapter 12: The Ride Chapter 13: The Conference Chapter 14: The Dance Chapter 15: After the Dance Chapter 16: To San Diego Chapter 17: An Evening At The Hard Deck Chapter 18: His Apartment Chapter 19: A Better Offer Chapter 20: It's Different This Time Chapter 21: Deployment Chapter 22: Back Home Chapter 23: The Holidays Chapter 24: Happy Thanksgiving Chapter 25: Home Between the Holidays Chapter 26: Wyoming Chapter 27: The Hotel Restaurant Chapter 28: Dorian Chapter 29: The Search Chapter 30: The Rescue Chapter 31: Home At Last Chapter 32: Christmas Eve Chapter 33: Christmas Day Chapter 34: After the Holidays Chapter 35: Back In Fighter Town Chapter 36: Another Deployment Chapter 37: Back to Wyoming Chapter 38: Court - Dorian Chapter 39: Court - Y/N Chapter 40: Court - Dorian Again Chapter 41: Court - Dorian Again Con't Chapter 42: Court - Max Chapter 43: Court - Chuck Chapter 44: Court - Jake Chapter 45: Court - Y/N Again Chapter 46: Dorian's Last Questioning Chapter 47: Closing Arguments & Verdict Chapter 48: Back Home Chapter 49: The Next Few Months Chapter 50: Starting New

[onetiny-inkdropuniverse]

BINARY STARS: 100 CHAPTERS!!!

Read the latest update at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63129163/chapters/161668021

AS A TREAT FOR YALL, I'VE MADE A SOUNDTRACK!!!

Every single song corresponds to the feelings/events/vibe of its chapter number, so you can listen & read!!! I will eventually be converting it to Youtube Music i think

I'm revealing my own music taste so hard lmao. I listen to too much of the Strokes 😭

Enjoy!! Take this as an excuse to reread your favorite chapters :)

1. "Between Love and Hate" - The Strokes 2. "Sweet Talk" - Saint Motel 3. "Lazy Boy" - The Voidz 4. "Locket" - Crumb 5. "Left & Right in the Dark" - Julian Casablancas 6. "Selfless" - The Strokes 7. "Change your mind" - CASTLEBEAT 8. "On Track" - Tame Impala 9. "Soma" - The Strokes 10. "Life is Simple in the Moonlight" - The Strokes 11. "Burning" - Yeah Yeah Yeahs 12. "Pointlessness" - The Voidz 13. "One Way Trigger" - The Strokes 14. "Japan" - Yot Club 15. "And She Was" - Talking Heads 16. "New Year" - Beach House 17. "Angry" - The Rolling Stones 18. "Brooklyn Bridge to Chorus" - The Strokes 19. "Ask Me Anything" - The Strokes 20. "Hang Me Up to Dry" - Cold War Kids 21. "On the Other Side" - The Strokes 22. "Social Cues" - Cage the Elephant 23. "Out of the Blue" - Julian Casablancas 24. "Space Song" - Beach House 25. "This Love" - Maroon 5 26. "Silver Soul" - Beach House 27. "Gimmie Shelter" - The Rolling Stones 28. "Gratisfaction" - The Strokes 29. "Two Weeks" - Grizzly Bear 30. "Restless" - New Ordwr 31. "Is This It?" - The Strokes 32. "Something Good Can Work" - Two Door Cinema Club 33. "Campus" - Vampire Weekend 34. "Sleepwalking" - Elderbrook 35. "Down Bad" - Taylor Swift 36. "Beast of Burden" - The Rolling Stones 37. "Maps" - Yeah Yeah Yeahs 38. "Good Luck, Babe!" - Chappell Roan 39. "Chances" - The Strokes 40. "Alone, Together" - The Strokes 41. "Moon Therapy" - Goodtime 42. "Stuck on You" - Dea Matrona 43. "Renegade Hearts" - Interpol 44. "Yes I'm Changing" - Tame Impala 45. "Barely Legal" - The Strokes 46. "12:51" - The Strokes 47. "The Modern Age" - The Strokes 48. "Welcome to Japan" - The Strokes 49. "Ode to the Mets" - The Strokes 50. "Birds of a Feather" - Billie Eilish 51. "Daylight" - Taylor Swift 52. "Lay All Your Love On Me" - ABBA 53. "What You Know" - Two Door Cinema Club 54. "August" - Taylor Swift 55. "Such Great Heights" - The Postal Service 56. "saveurprogress?" - Yot Club 57. "Last Nite" - The Strokes 58. "New Person, Same Old Mistakes" - Tame Impala 59. "Heart of Glass" - Blondie 60. "Why are Sundays So Depressing" - The Strokes 61. "Bad Decisions" - The Strokes 62. "Under Cover of Darkness" - The Strokes 63. "House of Glass" - Cage the Elephant 64. "Meet Me in the Bathroom" - The Strokes 65. "Pixel" - Yot Club 66. "Philadelphia Freedom" - Elton John 67. "Dowtown Lights" - Blue Nile 68. "Breathe Deeper" - Tame Impala 69. "Disciples" - Tame Impala 70. "Take Me Out" - Franz Ferdinand 71. "Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)" - Arcade Fire 72. "You Only Live Once" - The Strokes 73. "The Eternal Tao 2.0" - The Voidz 74. "Always Forever" - Cults 75. "On Melancholy Hill" - Gorillaz 76. "Soma" - The Strokes 77. "A Different Age" - Current Joys 78. "Myth" - Beach House 79. "Not Strong Enough" - boygenius 80. "peace" - Taylor Swift 81. "All Wordz Are Made Up" - The Voidz 82. "Take 3" - Inner Wave 83. "Juicebox" - The Strokes 84. "Tesselate" - alt-J 85. "11th Dimension" - Julian Casablancas 86. "Comatose" - Low Hum 87. "Call it Fate, Call it Karma" - The Strokes 88. "Cigarette Daydreams" - Cage the Elephant 89. "The Dark of the Matinee" - Franz Ferdinand 90. "Taken for a Fool" - The Strokes 91. "Fables" - Interpol 92. "ALieNNatioN" - The Voidz 93. "My Friend The Walls" - The Voidz 94. "80's Comedown Machine" - The Strokes 95. "The Suburbs" - Arcade Fire 96. "Ode to the Mets" - The Strokes 97. "4 Chords of the Apocalypse" - Julian Casablancas 98. "Stay" - Rihanna 99. "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" - Elton John 100. "Ready to Let Go" - Cage the Elephant

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Christmas Reruns 2024–Day 30: New York Christmas Serenade (4/4)

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t!  One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia.  A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns.  So here you go!  Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Word Count: 1803

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 31

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

CS Genre: Canon Divergence (missing year between 3a and 3b)

“Hey Hook,” Henry said from his spot at the kitchen table a week later.  “Tonight’s the big night!  The moment of truth!”

Killian looked around in alarm, afraid Swan had overheard the lad’s impetuous words.

“Don’t worry,” Henry said, noting the direction of his gaze.  “She’s not here.  She had a quick bowl of cereal and then headed out after her latest skip.  She said she had a really promising lead.”

Killian nodded in relief.  Tonight might be the moment of truth; the moment he took a chance; the moment he tested the lad’s theory that Swan had feelings for him as well, but he wished to remain as circumspect as possible until the big moment.

One week prior, on Christmas Eve, Killian and Henry had remained awake long after Swan retired for the night.

“You remember, Henry?” Killian asked, as soon as Emma entered her bed chamber.  “Truly?”

“Yeah!” Henry said.  “I remember everything—Storybrooke, my other mom, Neverland, Pan’s curse, everything!  Killian how did you get to us?”

“Never mind the details, lad,” Killian said, waving off the question he was not yet ready to answer.  “Suffice it to say it’s a wonder what one can accomplished when he is sufficiently motivated.”

“And you wanted to get back to mom.”

“In part,” Killian said, “but I’m afraid there’s a far more pressing concern.  A curse.”

“Again?” Henry asked, with a sigh.  “Who cast it this time?”

Killian shrugged.  “I’ve no idea.  I…found myself separated from the group quite soon after our return to the Enchanted Forest.  I’ve no idea what your grandparents and the others got mixed up in after I left.”

“Then how did you know to come for us?”

“I received a missive, perhaps from your grandmother,” Killian said.  “I set about securing passage back to your realm the moment I read the news.  I know nothing aside from the fact that the entire realm has once again been transported to Storybrooke.  I can only assume the need for your mother’s savior services is quite urgent.”

“So let’s wake mom up, tell her what’s going on,” Henry said.  “We could be headed back to Storybrooke as soon as this snowstorm stops.”

Killian shook his head.  “I’m afraid it’s not as simple as all that, Henry.  What do you imagine would be your mother’s reaction should I tell her she’s the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming and she must go back to a town called Storybrooke to break a curse, no doubt cast by a fairy tale villain?”

Henry grimaced.  “Good point.”

The two were silent for a moment, and then Henry brightened once again.  “I know how you can make mom remember!” he said.

“Aye?  What do you propose?”

“True Love’s Kiss.”

Killian sucked in a long breath.  “Come again lad?”

“True Love’s Kiss!  It can break any curse.  It’s perfect!  All you have to do is kiss her and she’ll remember who she was,” Henry said.

“Henry…” Killian began.

“No, really!” Henry said.  “You love my mom, don’t you?”

“Aye, more than you know, but at present your mother doesn’t even know me, let alone love me.”

“Well that’s no problem,” Henry said.  “I think she was starting to have feelings for you back in Storybrooke.  All you have to do is get her to fall in love with you again!  We could call it…Operation Captain Swan!”

Was that all he must do?

Killian had to admit to more than a bit of skepticism in his ability to win Swan’s heart in a short period of time, but as no other solution occurred to either of them, Killian finally agreed to the plan.

It was a two-pronged approach.

Over the ensuing week Henry and Killian worked in tandem to help Emma remember her true identity.  It was little things—short vignettes from their true lives.  Discussions of the storybook.  Talk about home and family.

While this was occurring, Killian wooed Emma as tenderly as the most ardent lover—procuring her flowers and small trinkets, preparing her meals, giving her a listening ear, supporting her, praising her, spending quality time with her and Henry.

He was making headway; he knew he was.  Sometimes he’d look up and find her gaze on him—happy, speculative, ardent.  He knew that look.  It was the look of someone falling in love.

Then, of course there was their sleeping arrangement.  Killian had spent the first three nights on the couch in Swan’s living quarters, but just after dinner on the evening of the fourth day, Emma approached him, her eyes looking anywhere but at him.

“Look, Killian,” she’d said, after being sure that Henry was otherwise occupied, “I know that couch can’t be comfortable.  If you want, you can, you know, share my bed.”

His eyes had widened in shock.  Had she just suggested….?

“Just to sleep!” she quickly clarified.  “I wasn’t, you know, propositioning you.  I just thought..”  She shrugged.  “I just thought there’s plenty of room in my queen sized bed.  If we each keep to our own side it doesn’t have to be awkward.”

Killian grinned slowly, ducked his chin and swaggered in her direction.  “Oh I assure you, darling.  There would be nothing awkward about it.  If you wished to share your bed with me, you needn’t use the excuse of my discomfort on your couch.  You need only ask.”

“Killian!” she growled.

He grinned and then sobered.  “Thank you for your offer, Swan.  I swear to be a perfect gentleman.  I’m always a gentleman.”

For a moment, Killian could swear Emma remembered the last time he’d uttered those words—at the top of the beanstalk where their story had begun, but then her eyes had cleared and she’d nodded.  “Good,” she said.

But despite her words about remaining separate, the next morning, Killian had woken with Emma in his arms, her head pillowed on his chest, her arms around him, her hair spilling over his arm.

It was pure bliss.

The next night when they retired for bed, Swan had made no mention of the arrangement—or any changes she wished for it.  She’d merely lain on her side, reached for him, and pulled his hand around her middle.  He’d had the luxury of holding her through the night, this time with her full knowledge and desire.

Aye, Killian was making progress in fulfilling his vow to win her heart; there was no mistake about it, but his progress was far too slow.

“You need to make a big gesture,” Henry finally said on the morning of New Year’s Eve.  “Really put all your cards out there.  I’ve got the perfect idea.”

“Aye?  And what might that be?”

“A New Year’s kiss!”  Henry said.  “It’s a tradition here in our realm.  People kiss each other just as it turns midnight on New Year’s Day.  The person you share your New Year’s kiss with is supposed to be with you all year long.  It’s perfect.”

Killian had put forth a token protest at first, but he couldn’t deny the idea had merit.  He knew his Swan.  He knew that she was afraid to give her heart—but he knew she craved love and commitment even more.  She held herself at a distance because she feared the people she allowed herself to care for would leave her.  Perhaps if he bestowed this “New Year’s kiss” on her, it would show her that he was in this for the long haul; that he would never willingly leave her.

Aye, tonight would be the night.

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Emma settled on the sofa, pulled her legs up beneath her, and ducked under Killian’s arm.  It should scare her how comfortable she’d become with him, how much she’d opened up to him, how very close she was to giving her heart to him.  It should terrify her and make her run as fast as she could in the opposite direction.

The thing was…it didn’t scare her.  Not at all.  It simply felt right.

The room was bathed in darkness save for the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree and the light from the TV.

“So, I’ve been to Times Square for the ball drop a time or two,” Emma explained, “but, I don’t know.  It’s overrated.  It’s so crowded you can barely move, and it’s freezing…and then trying to get out of the crowd and go home afterward…just more of a headache than it’s worth.  Why go through all the trouble when I can just catch it from the comfort of my own living room?”

“I must admit,” Killian said, shooting her a warm look.  “I’d far prefer watching these events unfold here, with you in my arms than in that crush of humanity.”

Emma felt her stomach swoop.  It was uncanny how Killian Jones managed to say these things—that would sound like the worst of clichés if spoken by anyone else—and make her melt like a pile of goo at his feet.  She caught his eye and held it for long moments—she had no idea how long, until Henry caught her attention.

“Hey guys!” he said, “pay attention!  They’re going to start the count down any second!”

“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six!…”

The excited crowd had just finished chanting “five” when Emma’s entire world turned on its axis.

“Emma,” Killian said softly, urgently, “I’m in love with you.  I love you with everything within me.  I’d like nothing better than to spend the remainder of the year, the remainder of my life with you.”

And as the ball dropped amid the shouting crowd, Killian leaned over and joined his lips with hers.  For a moment, Emma sat frozen, and then she was kissing him back, caressing his stubbled cheek, running a hand through his hair, moving so close she was nearly in his lap.

Emma felt the strangest energy bubble up within her, and suddenly it burst from her—burst from both of them, forming something resembling a rainbow colored shock wave.

Emma pulled away with a gasp, memories rushing in one after another.  “Hook!” she said, finally.  “I remember!”

On the other side of the room Henry cheered, pumping his fist in the air.  “Yes!”

Beside her, Killian grinned.  “Miss me?”

“What do you think?” Emma asked…just before kissing him so thoroughly Henry was soon making gagging sounds on his side of the room.

Over the next several years there would be plenty of curses to break, villains to defeat, even time to travel through, but during that night, that magical night when Emma and Killian shared True Love’s Kiss, nothing could have dampened their spirits.  With the magic of the night and the magic of their love, Emma knew whoever cast the latest curse didn’t stand a chance.

NEXT CHAPTER->

[anerdinallherglory]

Approaching Sun (36)

Author’s Note: Hey again! Surprising you all with a new chapter a week apart. I had to cut the last one short and this one short as well, essentially dividing one chapter into three. This doesn’t mean the wordcount is short. This one comes in just under 10,000. But keep your eyes out for the next part. I also wanted to drop my linktree here: linktr.ee/anerdinallherglory so it’s easier to find all my info in one place. Please go and check it out! I am also looking for beta readers for my own personal novel. I’m even considering starting a newsletter or posting it back on Wattpad as a pre-published draft, but haven’t decided on that 100%. I will let you all know as soon as I decide. The tracks I recommend for this chapter: 1) Let Me Touch Your Fire by ARIZONA and 2) Daylight by Crypto/DEIIN. Thanks again for reading! 

Pairing: SasuSaku

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35

Chapter 36: Demons

When Sasuke stepped into the brothel disguised as a bathhouse, an empty room greeted him. Not a single soul was in sight, and Sasuke wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting, but the place being deserted was the worst possible outcome. It meant no traces, no answers, and Sasuke dreaded finding Sakura’s trail end in this damned place. It also made his stomach knot at the thought that this might be what the room typically looked like on an average night considering the private and concealed activities that occurred in separate chambers.

Despite the absolute darkness, Sasuke could make out giant undisturbed baths beyond the reception counter, the water a still onyx glass as if the baths were only there to serve as a display, never to be used. And that’s probably exactly what they were: a lie to disguise the truth of what this place actually was. Only Sasuke’s Sharingan could make out the alcove, the inconspicuous hallway in the back that Sasuke crept toward in the shadows. 

His visual abilities revealed the outline of the door at the end of it, where someone without visual prowess might find nothing but a wall. Sasuke placed his fingertips against it to push on the barricade, not detecting any sort of seal or rigging to prevent it from opening. Sasuke wasn’t surprised that there wasn’t considering this particular establishment housed regular citizens and not ninja. If ninja did inhabit the space, Sasuke figured that it was for a short, purposeful visit, not long-term residency. The door gave to his pressure and a faint light glowed through the opening as Sasuke silently slid the door until he had had hairline’s width to peer through. 

A group of women were the first thing Sasuke noticed, all gathered in the middle of the floor, some holding candles in various states of distress. Muffled, crying sounds reached his ears and Sasuke naturally found the dimly-lit faces where the noises originated, paths of light-reflecting tears striping their painted faces. There were also lavish styled chairs scattered throughout the room, some tipped on their sides and others still erect in rows.

A gruff male voice interrupted the women’s soft, plea-filled weeping and Sasuke’s uncovered Sharingan eye instantly narrowed as he located three supervising figures that towered over the distressed girls. They stood just outside of the candlelight between Sasuke and the group they were terrorizing, their shadows passing in front of the light source which made it very easy for Sasuke to trace their movements, even without his Sharingan. Their mistake, Sasuke thought to himself, as the words became more substantial. 

“There must be something else that she said,” hissed one man as he reached forward and fisted one of the older woman’s robes, yanking her forward from the group. The other girls screamed, clutching at the dangling woman and halting her movement forward. One girl was kicked down by the man because she dared to stand before him in an attempt to wrestle the woman from him. “You’re the Mother, aren’t you?!” he spat viscously in her face. “How could you make such a mistake? You let the enemy in, and you will pay for it!”

“We already told the last group of men here,” the woman gasped, tearing at the sleeve of the arm that held her in the air by her throat. “She’s gone to the Land of Fire’s border. That’s all we know. Please let me go.”

“Where?! Where at on the border?” 

“We don’t know!” a fair-headed girl pleaded, crawling forward to the man’s feet to look up imploringly into his shadowed face. “That’s all she said after she took the men away.”

“There must be more,” another man spoke, coming forward to respond to the girl and glare up at the hanging woman, too.  

Sasuke waited, dampening his eagerness to intervene. A situation such as this one was not typically one to cause any sort of reaction from Sasuke, but as his conscience had come back to him over the years after the Fourth Shinobi World War, these types of intimidation tactics on people who didn’t deserve it were the sort that pissed the Uchiha off in an unforgiving sort of way. But he couldn’t be too rash, considering the information he, too, was receiving from the exchange. Unfortunately, Sasuke was still the sort of person who would let that woman dangle for an eternity if it meant that he would get the answers he needed about Sakura’s actions and whereabouts. But at the same time, Sasuke was desperately hoping she knew nothing.

The woman choked, face purpling. She was beyond being able to speak now, her body no longer receiving the oxygen to use words, so the girls huddled on the floor made implorations on her behalf. 

“Stop this! You’re killing her!” 

“Give me more information and she we will live!” the man shouted down at them. “Or stay silent and she dies!” 

Another minute of silent crying had Sasuke’s hand itching toward the door, not certain how much information there was left to learn. Their tactic worked as intended, however, and Sasuke stilled himself once more when a dark-haired girl shuffled forward on her knees, barely old enough to be considered a mature adult. With beseeching hand movements, she disclosed, “I’ll tell you everything. Just let her go.”

“Talk first!” snarled the offender, shaking the matron for good measure. 

“All I know is that she dyed her hair after arriving. She’s in disguise,” she confessed with a shaky voice.

Finally receiving a scrap of intelligence, the man threw the matron toward the group of girls and there was more shrieking as she landed roughly among them, and their hands all scrabbled in unison to catch and break her fall. The matron coughed violently as color began to return to her face. 

“And?” the man enticed the young girl to continue, leaning down to fist her dressing gown next. 

The young girl returned his gaze with a fire that wasn’t there before. Now that she had replaced the matron’s spot in the face of the zealot, she laced her next words with venom. “And,” she murmured. “She’s going to kill every single one of you bastards.”

There was a loud strike against flesh, but the sound was infinitesimal compared to the crack of lightning that suddenly struck and shook the ceiling above them. Everyone fell to the ground at the sound, covering their ears and crawling toward one another instinctively. Even the three men crouched in surprise, but they were the first to recover, casting their eyes about wildly. 

As the three extremists turned to assess the room’s entrance, the door that separated them from the Uchiha was now fully open, the darkness of the hallway consuming all of Sasuke’s person except for his unconcealed blood red eye. When he stepped into the room, the three ninja prepared themselves to face the new threat, which was a mistake, because all three of them locked eyes with red and purple. 

Without a second of passing time, the three men fell back to their knees and their screams were positively delicious sounds as they succumbed to the horrors Sasuke had planned for them in his genjutsu. They would suffer and the chakra it cost the Uchiha to do it was worth it based on their screaming alone.   

The girls scrambled to collect the candles they had dropped out of fear when the lightning had struck, each of them desperate to claim some light to reveal what monster had just stepped into the room with them. When the youngest girl successfully secured one, she brought it to her face only to reveal Sasuke’s dark outline standing before her. When she looked up into his Sharingan, she dropped the candle once more. 

“The devil,” she whispered, speaking the word as if doing so had sealed her fate. “He’s finally come for me.”

Panicked gasps, crying, and prayers fabricated into existence around Sasuke as the other girls beheld the apparition of him for themselves, a phantom of black and red and purple delivering punishment to the three begging men now behind him.  

Sasuke crouched before the young, dark-haired girl, the very one who had revealed information about Sakura to the three anti-peace members, all of whom would soon not be able to remember anything but Sasuke’s katana as it penetrated their bodies over and over. How fitting a description, Sasuke thought to himself as he remembered Itachi, whom the genjutsu he now used was modeled after, how devil-like the Uchiha clan became when they were set on protecting something they cared about.

“Not for any of you,” Sasuke responded coldly, wasting no time to reach for her terrified face over the flickering circumference of the discarded candlelight between their bodies. When he clutched her chin between his fingers, her eyes widened in fear, which was positively advantageous for the Uchiha as he peered through them to search her memories. 

Sasuke moved through this girl’s memories just like the phantom she imagined him to be, gliding through the very sins she committed tonight until he saw the scene he was looking for: Sakura’s face coming into view as she entered into the dark room in which this girl and a man were coupled on a lounge, both still wet from the bath. They were wrapped in one another’s arms, exchanging sweet whispers to each other in the dark. 

Sakura seemed surprised by this fact, as if she hadn’t expected to find them nestling into one another there. Sasuke watched his teammate hesitate for just a moment until a needle sank into the man’s flesh. The girl from whose eyes Sasuke watched his former teammate, gasped at the sudden attack. Untangling himself, the man swung in Sakura’s direction. “You,” he had hissed. “You’re—” he began before falling to the floor lifelessly, incapacitated by the drug that Sakura had injected him with.

Sakura stared down at him for a moment, eyes flashing back toward the girl, before she reached down to flip over the man’s body, so that he could breathe freely. 

Sasuke couldn’t focus on anything other than the raven black of Sakura’s tinted hair. A small part of his heart wanted to linger on the scene, imagine a child with Sakura’s features and Sasuke’s hair. He fisted the emotions and shoved them back, resuming the memory. 

“Hae, what are you doing!?” screamed the girl, scrambling from the lounge onto the floor beside the man. 

“I am sorry, Tabi.” Sakura whispered, biting into her thumb and performing a summoning jutsu that Sasuke was too familiar with. Katsuyu, Sakura and the Fifth Hokage’s summoning familiar, materialized into existence on the spot on the floor where Sakura had pressed her five-fingered seal. To Tabi’s extreme horror, the slug, human-sized, began to encapsulate the man she desperately tried to shield away from the creature. But her hands disappeared into the mucusy flesh of the gastropod, failing to gain any purchase.

“Who are you?! Why are you doing this?” she cried, backing speedily away when the creature began to absorb her hands as well. 

“There’s not much time to explain,” Sakura replied, coming to bend down before the girl. Sakura knelt before the girl, revealing a small canvas bundle of small bottles, needles, and medicines. “I’m not really in this business as I made all of you believe. I’m a doctor and I only have a few minutes to help you.”

When Tabi said nothing else, just stared at Sakura in confusion, she asked carefully, “Do you suspect that you’re pregnant?”

Tabi’s mouth fell open at the revelation and her hands moved to her stomach at the mention of pregnancy. The tears that began to fall from her face was confirmation enough for the medic. She asked her next question. “Do you want to keep it?”

“What?” Tabi asked, wondering how the woman before her could have suspected something Tabi only was beginning to experience the symptoms of. 

“Do you want this baby? There are ways to—”

“Yes, I want it!” Tabi cried, hugging herself and flinching away from the unrolled canvas parcel of vials as she began to see the collection in a new light. “The baby is mine and—” she protested, turning back to the man who was now completely encased by the slug. “What are you doing to him?!”

Sakura’s eyes flicked over to the man and only Sasuke was able to recognize the regret in them. “He’s one of the members of Zenshin,” Sakura informed the distraught girl. “It’s my mission to eradicate the organization.” 

“Please,” Tabi begged, grasping Sakura’s arms with her hands, stilling them over the bag of medical supplies. “You can’t take him. He’s different from the others. We love each other.”

Sasuke saw Sakura chew her lip in thought, rerolling the canvas bag into a tight parcel. He instantly knew Sakura was thinking of him, his face flashing in her mind as she faced Tabi. The confliction there let Sasuke know exactly what she was thinking. Just as Sakura so desperately wanted her own happy ending, she also wanted Tabi to have hers. But her eyes hardened, and she removed her arms from Tabi’s hands. In that very same instant, the slug dematerialized into nothing, taking the man with her to wherever the slug disappeared to. 

“If Toka loves you, he will come back to you once I am finished with him,” Sakura divulged, looking pointedly at her stomach. “Does he know?”

Tabi shook her head, more tears streaming down her face. “I was going to tell him once he left them. He was going to do it soon—run away with me.” 

Sakura nodded and shoved the canvas bundle into Tabi’s shaking hands. “Give these to the other girls and have them follow the directions inside. I don’t know how well you guys are taking care of yourselves here, but there are medicines in here. To prevent pregnancy— and to protect yourselves from diseases. As a medic, I can’t leave here without doing at least this.”

Sasuke flinched at the scene before him, knowing that Sakura had carried that on her person, probably having prepared it in advance for this very mission in this damn brothel, intended for her own personal use. Sasuke had never been so close to wanting to vomit in his life. He wanted to reach through this memory and grab her arm and force her to explain all of this to him. Why would she take such risks for a mission—abuse herself in this way?

“Where are you going?” Tabi beseeched, focused more on the fact that this parting gift meant Sakura’s immediate intentions to depart along with the man she loved. 

“The border of the Land of Fire,” Sakura responded without hesitation as she met Tabi’s gaze with hers. “You can tell that to whoever comes asking questions,” the woman who Tabi had believed was named Hae added. “It’s the truth and it’s not a secret. Let them come.”

Sasuke closed his eyes at the intentional crumb she had left for the enemy. She had probably told every girl who had asked this information the same response. It was obvious that she was luring whoever was left of the organization out of Tanigakure. They had more of a personal vendetta against her now after her actions tonight and would definitely pursue, especially since they believed she was acting alone. It would be perfect for them, to eliminate their Number 1 and get revenge in the same motion. The temptation to chase would be too great.

As Sakura stood and headed back for the door, she turned back to Tabi, who was still kneeling on the ground and clutching the bundle of medications to her stomach, shielding the small flutter of life that had started there. 

When Sakura’s eyes met Tabi’s, Sasuke suddenly felt as if Sakura were looking beyond them, into the memory itself until her eyes met Sasuke’s within. “In case you’re watching this, I can handle this alone. I don’t need your help.” Sasuke felt Tabi’s confusion as the girl failed to comprehend Sakura’s last words. Sasuke, however, knew exactly who those words were for: the Uchiha, himself. So, she knew. Sakura had known that he was here in Tanigakure searching for her. She had predicted that he would track her to this place and perform this very jutsu. 

When Sakura closed the door behind her, leaving Tabi to sob uncontrollably to herself, Sasuke rewound the memory further, past the indecencies between the girl and the man called Toka, until he was watching the same man spin Sakura in front of a crowd of lust-hungry brutes. Sasuke froze the scene before him, eyes narrowing as he memorized each of their faces. One man came forward and grabbed Sakura, pulling her into his lap. His eyes were tightly bound, and the blind stranger leaned his mouth against Sakura’s ear in the dimly lit room. To Sasuke’s extreme dissatisfaction, Tabi had not heard, and therefore Sasuke could not decipher what the man had whispered in his teammate’s ear. Sasuke was beyond disappointed to miss the very words that he would repeat to the man as the Uchiha eviscerated him. The memory of Sakura ended once more as Toka led Tabi away to their private room. 

Thoroughly enraged at what he had just witnessed, Sasuke cursed to himself as he released the young woman’s chin. Tabi gasped when Sasuke retreated viciously from her mind, and she fell back on her wrists away from him. Sasuke’s crimson gaze fell on every girl who clustered in the darkness, gaping openly at him in terror, and he couldn’t help but picture Sakura in all of their faces. They, too, had been feasted upon by the eyes of despicable men, dragged into laps and so much more. In another life and in different set of circumstances, who knows if Sakura might have ended up trying to earn her living doing such a thing, too. He pitied every woman who had no other options. Sasuke would not consider himself a sentimental or feeling person. In fact, he wanted nothing more than to turn on his heel and vanish from the room in the same manner in which he had appeared, letting his fire-style impede the very building in which he stood. But he wavered, glancing down at the tiny swell of Tabi’s malnourished stomach. With his Rinnegan, Sasuke could see the tiny orb of light there. It pulsed like a tiny, throbbing sun.

Leaning fully into the devil character they believed him to be, Sasuke did something very much unlike himself. He took the time to say, “Leave this place and do not come back. Every single one of you.” He turned back down to Tabi once more and said, “Your child deserves a peaceful world. The next generation does not need to suffer for the sins of their parents.”

And then Sasuke, like a demon specter made of shadows, turned and vanished back into the blackness of a hellish night. 

.

.

.

The downpour lasted long into the night and Sakura swore at her bad luck. Sakura had quickly snagged a set of clothing from one of the smaller ninja that she had rendered unconscious back at the bathhouse. Even still, the man’s clothes hung loosely on her thinner, angular frame and Sakura had apologized to the palm-sized version of Katsuyu that clung to Sakura’s skin at the slug’s initial repulsion to the smell of the stranger’s attire. Sakura hadn’t had time to find her original set of clothing once her mission had begun; the tight-fitting robes from the bathhouse had been insufficiently insulated, so Sakura had tugged on one of the radical’s dark pants, black jacket, and matching vest in the presence of one of the horrified girls without explanation as the girl watched Katuyu absorb another person and whisk them away. Strategically, Sakura had even adorned her forehead with the five-spiral headband tucked away in the man’s vest just in case it was slightly advantageous to do so. Sakura had only seen the forehead protector twice before, but more recently caught a glimpse of it in the desert when Mako was thrown the identical headband for successfully kidnapping her. 

With her shadow-colored hair tucked hurriedly under the jacket’s stiff-fabric hood, Sakura pulled the shirt’s loose-fitting collar up and over her nose so that only her eyes and the headband were visible on her brow. She had hoped such a disguise would at least get her out of Tanigakure unnoticed in the night. Surprisingly enough, Tanigakure’s “peaceful” reputation and open access to travelers made it relatively easy for Sakura to locate a small mountain path that exited the village undetected. The kunoichi also allowed herself a moment of pride, because not being stopped also meant that she had been quick enough with the execution of her plan. She had handled any immediate threats back at the brothel, making it out before any other Zenshin members could discover the cookie crumb she had left behind for them to find. 

It was dark, and the rain was merciless as Sakura skirted the side of the mountain, taking refuge from the rain in the dense tree cover that blanketed the landscape. The tree limbs bowed beneath the weight of her hurdles as she bounded from branch to branch, arms thrown behind her as she mercilessly raced toward the border between the Land of Rivers and Land of Fire. Once she had guided her likely pursuers into the Land of Fire, Sakura would be able to handle the rest of them as she pleased, as recklessly as she pleased. She would no longer have to worry about causing any catastrophes in Tanigakure that the Leaf or the Sand might have to take responsibility for. 

She had expected a pursuit. Mako had told Sakura that there were Zenshin members all throughout the shinobi world—eventually, they would come for her, too—but the remaining Zenshin members in Tanigakure would be absolutely desperate to prevent her from reaching the border. But what Sakura had not expected was the speed in which some of them had caught up with her. 

When Sakura had first picked up on the footfalls that those without the sharpened senses of a ninja wouldn’t be able to distinguish beyond the crashing rain against the canopy above, Sakura had immediately halted her movements in the branches. Tucking her body tightly into the bough of a tree, she contemplated her options as the voices began to near her. Considering that it took Sasuke and Sakura two days of leisure travel to reach Tanigakure from Konoha, Sakura was predicting that it would likely take her a fraction of that time to reach the border—which was located much closer to Tanigakure than the Leaf—at the speed in which she was travelling now. If her estimations were right, it would be essentially six hours, four of which had already transpired since her exit. Could she simply outrun them for another two hours? 

Maybe the solution was something simpler, something E-Rank that Sakura hadn’t used since her Genin days. Sakura thought back to her interaction with the second man she had spoken with at the brothel, “the clown” of the group as Rugo had called him. Sakura’s initial target who had asked Sakura questions, investigating if she were “new, new.” Sakura focused on his features as she performed a transformation. The Transformation Jutsu had its flaws, which is why it wasn’t used too often, especially in the presence of experienced shinobi or those who could see chakra with a visual prowess like the Sharingan or Byakugan, or detect chakra signatures like the ninja, Karin. But a confrontation was going to be inevitable regardless of whether or not Sakura could fool them with a jutsu; she would just have to face them head on sooner than she had wanted. If it were the latter, then the jutsu possibly failing was a moot point, so there was no harm in crossing her fingers and going for it. The jutsu wouldn’t have to be flawless to be effective.

She could hardly assess them, the rain a thick sheet between herself and the enemy. There were three of them, all cloaked and protected from the elements. The low number made Sakura suspect that this was one of many search parties and their likelihood of finding her had less to do with their skill at tracking and more to do with fact that at least one group was going to guess her direction of travel correctly and encounter her by chance. She waited until they were practically under her perch to make her choice. 

Without a second more of hesitation, Sakura dropped several feet in front of them, shouting in a voice that had thickened into that obnoxiously loud tenor from the brothel. “I think she went this way!” Sakura didn’t wait to hear a response as she darted forward into the night. 

“Araki?!” came a woman’s voice as she was the first to recognize the man whom was Sakura’s current disguise. The female immediately followed as she continued to shout after who she believed was her fellow Zenshin member. 

“Hurry!” Sakura screamed back in reply but did not slow her pace for them. One of the Transformation Jutsu’s innate failings that made it unfavorable to use, was that it was difficult to converse with others or perform other mental feats because a ninja had to pour a lot of focus into channeling chakra into maintaining the transformation. It’s the very reason why a lot of transformations didn’t last too long; some people were better at executing it than others. It wasn’t overly difficult for Sakura to engage in conversation while transformed, but she didn’t know her enemy very well or their various jutsu and talents, so she decided to take advantage of the chase element of their interaction to avoid super close proximity. 

Like shadowed hounds that thought they had found one of their own kind, they pursued after Sakura, barking after her as their feet collided with the ground, thinking they were joining the hunt when in fact they were chasing the very goose they were after. 

“How do you know she went this way, Araki?” a male voice called up to her through the thundering rain, and Sakura barely made it out. 

“She’s making a run for the Leaf Village, but we have to catch her before she gets too far over the border!” Sakura called back with the same arrogant confidence Araki had spoken to her with at the brothel.

“How did you escape? Weren’t you with the others at the bathhouse? What happened to them?” the woman’s voice called out again, firing questions off faster than the rain could fall from the sky, and maybe Sasuke had started to rub off on Sakura the past couple of months, but the relentless inquiries were beginning to annoy her.

Sakura didn’t know if she should even attempt to respond. She knew very little about this Araki’s personality, other than the fact that he was loud, bold, and talked incessantly as well. But Sakura was not comfortable sustaining an unrehearsed act for long segments, and was unsure exactly what types of ridiculous comments were normal for the man. A little too late, Sakura wondered if Rugo or Toka would have been a better choice to impersonate with their various stoicism in comparison to Ataki; their seriousness would have suited Sakura’s current circumstances better. As a side note to rationalize her choice, Sakura wasn’t too sure about how Rugo’s blindness affected his abilities, and Sakura naturally wanted to steer clear of casting Toka in more of a negative light in case he really was trying to cut ties with Zenshin as Tabi had claimed. 

“We have to move faster!” Sakura deflected, pretending not to hear them as she bounded further ahead of them to create a safer distance between them.

Sakura relentlessly pushed them forward, a shadow before them that they could barely distinguish as it was. She was desperately clinging to the transformation even as she strategically considered her next move. Sakura had crossed the river she and Sasuke had camped at on their second night of traveling together hours ago. She was only minutes away from the border now. For the most part, Sakura had chosen to stick to the same remote path she and Sasuke had taken from Konoha because it was the most recent in her memory and it was a small miracle she wasn’t getting the four of them completely lost in this starless monsoon. At some point over the past hour, she dissected from that trail, travelling northwest for the plains she remembered passing through during a mission with Kakashi, Naruto, and Sai. 

The forest thinned as Sakura neared the space between forests, the sizeable meadow surrounded by rocky plateaus like the very mountain the Leaf was built up against. Seeing such familiar forested landscape, Sakura could have wept in relief. Her lungs shuttered from the relentlessness of her breathing and her legs practically felt numb and cold from the freezing rain, but the pain was absolutely miniscule in comparison to the absolute thrill she felt in her bones when she took her first step across an imaginary line only a ninja who had crossed it multiple times would remember even in the hours just before sunrise. She stumbled to a stop in the knee-high grass, wading through ankle-deep flood waters, stealing herself for what was to come. As much as she wanted to fall to her knees, tilt her head up to face the rain, and not get back up, she couldn’t quit yet. 

The three ninja following her burst from the trees behind, lurching to a halt when they realized their front-runner had finally stopped. “Did you find her!” one called out to her, but Sakura didn’t answer as she turned to face them. Sensing a change, one of the ninja suddenly stopped in his tracks and held his arm out to halt the others. 

“Araki?” he asked, preventing his team from moving any further toward her as she stood unmoving and waiting for them. Sakura wasn’t intending to suddenly act so predatory, her shift in nature causing them to hesitate like all prey before a hunter, but she was just so tired of pretending. She let the transformation fall away and the girl in the group gasped. Sakura could still sense their confusion, and their assessments of her outfit and headband that mirrored their own was almost painful to watch. 

Deciding that the charade was truly well and over, Sakura relieved them of their nervous bewilderment. “Unfortunately, no,” she called back, talking loudly to reach them through the persistent deluge around them. 

“I was wondering why he was being so quiet,” one of the male voices answered, pushing forward to stand in front of his teammates. “It’s her. The Haruno girl. She’s in disguise.” Sakura could hear the girl gasp again before she grabbed onto the man’s arm fearfully to pause his advance.  

Sakura pressed against the inner-pocket of her jacket, whispering, “Are you still with me, Lady Katusyu?”

“Yes, Sakura dear,” the small slug replied, slithering out to greet her despite the rain. “I’m here if you need me.”

“Hang on tight, then,” came Sakura’s instructions as she tucked her back away. “I’ll be sending more your way soon.” 

A laughter broke out near the tree line and Sakura saw one man shove forward, past his concerned and apprehensive teammates. Sakura could make out his flashy, red cloak for the first time now that he was closer in the downpour. “You’ve given us exactly what we wanted—lead us far away where no one can help you, now! I am going to have so much fun beating you within an inch of your life!” 

“What are you waiting for, then?” Sakura goaded, pleasantly surprised when the cloaked man rushed forward despite his teammates’ beseeching council. 

The man charged at her, sloshing his way through the muddy field, and Sakura let him come, let his momentum carry him face first into the punch she had waiting for him. He sailed backward, right into his other male companion and they skipped like scattered stone across the flooding pasture. Even in the dark, Sakura could see the mud [SR1] that sprayed up around them, covering their once distinguishable features in total blackness. That felt so good. After days of secrecy, disguising her power and identity, the release of her physical abilities was positively glorious. Sakura didn’t have a ton of chakra left at her disposal after her repetitive use of the Summoning Technique, but she had the adequate amount remaining in order to take care of these three and anyone who decided to show up later. 

The girl, who had avoided the collision, came for Sakura next, and as she neared, Sakura was able to finally get a decent look at her. Her hair was white beneath her black cloak’s cowl and her brow was adorned with the anti-peace symbol. Sakura wanted to talk to her, ask her opinions and learn her story, investigating her personal vendetta against the peace they had all fought so hard for during the Fourth Shinobi War. The girl quickly began to form the signs for a fire release and Sakura’s eyes widened as the heavy rain suddenly steamed around her as it hit the girl’s body and hissed into hot air. When the floodwaters pooled at Sakura’s feet began to bubble, Sakura cursed as she jumped back and into the air to avoid the boiling water below. At first, Sakura feared that the girl might have the Boil Release Kekkei Genkai, a transformation of water and fire nature energies, but as Sakura began to descend from her fall, the girl met her in the air, and Sakura soon realized that she had a unique fire release that allowed her to direct heat from pinpoints on her body. Sakura’s shielding kick that made contact with the girl’s stomach was instantly scorched through her boot from having touched her, and Sakura hissed. 

“Die!” the ninja screamed, grabbing onto Sakura’s calf muscle with both burning hands and swinging her right into the arms of her knife-wielding companion. But Sakura gripped the man’s arms and simultaneously kicked against the girls’ stomach, deeper into her magma flesh, gritting her teeth at the pain, but directing her immense strength into the blow. The girl went sailing into the trees just as the red-coated man had done seconds before this second confrontation. Using the same momentum, Sakura swung up and over her captor’s shoulders, slipping easily from his grasp. 

She landed behind him, a dark-haired, broad-shouldered man with silver pupil-less irises that reminded Sakura of the Kazekage. She saw these eyes clearly despite the darkness and the mud smeared across his face practically made them glow. The ninja turned on his heel to intercept her next blow, his knife catching her cheek just before he also received the brunt force of her physical strength. 

Sakura could feel the water around her already tenderized ankle start to boil again, and Sakura swore, locating the girl with her eyes. Sakura had to admit that this girl was quite literally making it impossible to remain standing on her own two feet. Even if Sakura summoned chakra to the soles of her feet to walk on the surface of the five inches of saturation, Sakura knew that the water would quickly melt through her stolen shoes completely, so Sakura came up with another solution. She wouldn’t let this girl scald her from a distance; if this fire-nature ninja wanted to land another injury on Sakura, she was going to have to get up close and personal, just as Sakura liked it.

Sakura exhaled when her uninjured hand collided with the ground at her feet. “SHANNARO!” she screamed as the entire landscape fractured beneath her, spiderwebbing across the plain until all the rainwater succumbed to gravity, falling down the sides of new projectiles of earth, and down into the fissures. Sakura perched on top of one of the new pillars like a bird of night, staring down at her three recovered enemies who stared up at her with a new appreciation. 

“You bitch,” the female spat up at Sakura, but Sakura ignored her. She fisted the anti-peace forehead protector on her brow and tossed it down to the three of them. She pulled back her hood and looked up into the sky as it fell on her face, the rain fingering her dyed tresses until streaks of black began to run down her chin along with the blood from her sliced cheek. Keeping it always on her person, Sakura reached into her vest and revealed her own shinobi headband, the red one bearing the Leaf Village symbol she had worn as a chunin. She tied it tightly against her forehead and across the back of her ink-dripping crown and thought how fitting it felt to bear her flag now that she was standing in Land of Fire territory. She saw her enemies’ shocked and exchanged expressions when green regenerative chakra began to glow around her knuckles, her cheek, and the various burns on her leg and ankle, healing the damage in seconds. 

“You guys didn’t do a lot of research on your target, did you?” Sakura called down to them. She couldn’t understand it, the surprise. If they were not originally from Tanigakure, who had been neutral, that would mean they had all fought together in the war. So how did they not know every detail about Sakura? Sakura began to collect various pieces of information in her brain and a realization formed. Most of the members of this organization that Sakura had encountered in Tanigakure so far had not been overly remarkable. Aside from the shade she went head-to-head with in the sands surrounding Suna, everyone seemed to know the bare minimum of Sakura’s power. They knew of her, but not what she was capable of. In fact, they seemed content to hang back and relish in the fear created by their superiors, and Sakura suddenly realized why some of them might be interested in a world that created bitter and stronger generations to follow them. They were those ninja who hung back during the war, who let others—the strong and fearless—do all the work because they could not; it’s why they wanted to mimic conditions that would create strength in other ninja for them to hide behind. Huh, Sakura thought privately to herself. She wondered who exactly was taking advantage of ninja like this to kill off others who stood in their way. Who exactly was the leader?

“We know enough to kill you,” the silver-eyed one spoke, and his voice was raspy and menacing. Even his voice reminded her of the Kazekage, along with the sand-weilder’s path to redemption, and Sakura tried not to be distracted as she imagined this dark-haired ninja capable of a future where he could redirect his efforts into a righteous cause. This type of thinking, while keeping her intentions toward others good, would cloud her judgement now. 

“We have to get information from her first and then deliver her to the boss,” reminded the red cloaked one, whom Sakura had all but forgotten was there after she sent him flying for his bold move to attack first. 

The other two swapped looks of apprehension to one another, as if they weren’t sure they were going to be able to restrain and deliver blows to get her to talk, after all. And Sakura smiled because, she too, knew that wasn’t going to be happening. 

Sakura’s finger bled once again when she bit back into it, and now that the rain had washed away most of her ivory face paint, the Hundred Healing’s seal spanned out across her forehead in black stripes. It was still activated since her very first summoning of Katsuyu, and Sakura could feel the steady drain of chakra from her body that it was costing her to maintain the states of all her captives where she had reverse summoned them back to Katsuyu’s home in Shikkotsu forest. Since Sakura wasn’t having to heal her horde of hostages, but rather, keep them all in an unconscious state, cryogenized in the chamber of Katsuyu’s flesh, the chakra being loaned to her familiar was a trickle, but it was still depleting her already diminishing levels. 

“Are you alright, Sakura dear?” came Katsuyu’s voice from the inside pocket of her vest, the slug sensing her labored breathing and strain on the chakra connection between them. 

Sakura nodded, whispering, “Yes. I have a few more summons in me. If more enemies appear here, I might not be able to hold onto the jutsu. The connection will be severed between us. What happens then?”

Katsuyu’s answer came back as a whisper in the relentless pattering of rain against Sakura’s flesh. “It will take them all some time to come out of comatose. When they do, they will have nowhere to go. The Shikkotsu forest is an endless maze of jungle. They’ll be in the same spot when you come for them.”

“Excellent,” Sakura responded, reaching into her waistband, and withdrawing three vials of sedative. Privately and expertly, Sakura filled three needles with the drug and placed each between her teeth until three needles protruded from her mouth like the fangs of a demon.  Next, Sakura palmed her bloody hand into the top of the jagged steeple of earth on which she still stood and cried “Summoning Jutsu!” as clearly as she could manage with a mouthful of liquid sleep.  

The three human-sized divisions of Katsuyu’s body slithered down the sides of the post and came to a stop when Sakura’s own feet touched level ground once more, the water no longer coagulating around her ankles. 

“Here she comes!” shouted the girl, and Sakura smirked as she sprinted straight towards them through the rain, engaging each one in a pirouette of hand-to-hand combat. 

Just as Sakura had once fought Sasori’s countless puppets on the end of Lady Chiyo’s chakra threads, Sakura took control of her own strings now and navigated smoothly between her enemies’ strikes like a leaf darting on the wind. Deflect, block, strike, defend, parry, punch. The actions were faster than Sakura could even think of which move to execute next, and she let her muscles act on memory alone. 

She could feel the heat of the white-haired girl’s skin every time one of her open-palmed strikes grazed Sakura’s body. She was aiming for the most incapacitating of areas like the eyes, her hands, legs, or any other placement that might cripple Sakura temporarily. But every time the ninja got close to landing a hit on her, the sound of sizzling rain would alert Sakura’s sharp ears to her nearness and Sakura would dodge just in time. Sakura focused on the mud covered, silver-eyed enemy before her, turning to the side to dodge his kunai stab to her stomach. She fisted his own weapon hand with her own and used his own piercing thrust to direct it into the stomach of the red-cloaked shinobi who had come up behind her and fisted her inky, wet hair. She heard his cry at the same moment that the grip on her hair slackened. When the white-haired kunoichi recovered and came at her again, Sakura was ready. Grabbing the silver-haired ninja by the leg as he fell, Sakura swung him like her own weapon, right into the burning arms of his companion. The two of them collapsed into a tangle together, and Sakura’s knee was in the man’s back as she sank his body deeper into the lava skin of the fire-wielding ninja until he began to scream. Sakura used his screams to motivate the white-haired ninja. She would eventually stop her fire-nature jutsu. 

Sakura couldn’t risk incinerating the needle, so she waited patiently, yanking out the syringe of her mouth in the meantime. She saw the girl’s eyes widen at the damage she was inflicting upon her partner, and the melting instantly stopped. Sakura plunged the needle into her neck, followed by a dose for the silver-eyed ninja. [SR2] They both fell unconscious against one another, and two of three Katusyus had already crawled to meet them.  

When Sakura pulled the last syringe from her mouth and turned to face the red-cloaked man who had been stabbed, she was surprised to find him already standing before her in the darkness. He knocked the syringe out of her hand and seized Sakura’s throat, slamming her against one of the pillars of earth at Sakura’s back. The very blade that had lacerated his stomach was now pointing into her navel, still bloody and dripping from his own injury. Sakura’s next move was going to be to knee him directly where his wound bloomed the same shade as his cloak in order to create a safe space between them again. Even if he managed to cut her open, Sakura would use her Mitotic Regeneration Jutsu to heal herself before the blood loss rendered her unconscious. However, his next words made her reevaluate her actions at the last moment. 

“When Mozai finally has his way with you, I’m going to enjoy every minute of it,” he snarled as he pinned her body with his. The knife in his hand dug into her flesh with every word and Sakura hissed at the sudden pain. 

As she reached up to push against his hold on her throat, she choked out, “Who’s Mozai? Is he your boss?” She pretended to weaken at his hold. She needed to keep him talking and feeding her the information she wanted. 

“Someone who will do a lot worse to you than I’m about to do.” His knife suddenly pulled away from her and began to snake up Sakura’s clothing, cutting a trail of blood up her bare stomach. She gritted her teeth against the pain, holding back the instinct to break the wrist around her throat. If Sakura could just get him back on the topic of her choice. 

“He’s nothing without his henchmen. Didn’t you want to know what happened to the others?” she strained to ask next, spluttering the words, trying to regain his attention. 

He laughed, a cruel, wicked laugh that reminded Sakura of the deranged Orochimaru. It was the sort of laugh that alerted her to his madness, the deeper and more dangerous kind of madness that a medic such as herself was easily able to recognize no matter how hard one tried to hide it. “He knows where you’ve run off to, and we will find the others soon enough now that I know your pets have taken them.” He pushed harder against her throat and despite her efforts to remain calm and focus, Sakura’s vision still blackened from the lack of oxygen and her grip on him tightened. In that moment, Sakura barely even felt Kaguya’s small body drop from her clothing. With her squinting eyes, Sakura witnessed the small slug make a dash for the syringe that Sakura had dropped earlier. At the same time, she realized that Katsuyu knew that it was their last dose of sedative and the slug wanted to either protect or retrieve it for Sakura.

The rain was still coming down so hard, a shower soaking every inch of Sakura’s newly exposed stomach. It made the knife he was ghosting her skin with wet and slick as it bounced against her skin, causing knicks and superficial lacerations where it touched. Sakura couldn’t tell if she was only feeling the rain, or the trickling of her own blood. Was it pooling at her feet with the man’s own colors of red? 

“But he won’t mind if I have my fun with you first before he gets here,” came his thickened voice as he placed the hilt of his kunai between his teeth and replaced the pressure against her stomach with his fingers. They caressed her abdomen, smearing the blood there. Sakura realized in this moment that the game of holding back for information was over. 

But before she could act, break his hold on her, and shove him away from her, Sakura’s stomach dropped as her vision came to focus over the man’s shoulder at the shadow that stood there in the rain, red eye flashing as he unsheathed his katana. The rain rendered him nearly invisible in the dark and Sakura sucked in a breath of alarm.

“You’re going to die if you don’t let go,” came Sakura’s hurried warning to the man still inching his hand up her shirt. The vice on Sakura’s throat instantly slackened when a blade came across the man’s throat, not hesitating to sunder the man’s head from his shoulders. Before the damage was inflicted, Sakura’s hand shot out and grabbed Sasuke’s katana just in time, the bite of the blade sliding against the palm of her hand until she stopped its movement completely with her grip. She fisted the quaking blade, and it was immediately abandoned. 

Sakura was powerless to stop what happened next. In the very next second, the man was thrown from her, catapulted near across the field as Sasuke pivoted to ram his fist into the side of the man’s face. Sasuke, too, disappeared as he teleported, switching positions with the bloody kunai the man had possessed. Before the kunai stuck true in the grass at Sakura’s feet, the Uchiha was on top of his victim in a millisecond, and Sakura could hear the man’s screams as she ran toward them in the rain, still clutching Sasuke’s katana in a bloody grip.

“Sasuke, don’t!” she screamed, desperate to reach him in time. Sakura soon realized that the distance the man had been sent wasn’t just a coincidence. It served two purposes: to deliver a harder impact, and to generate enough space from Sakura to give Sasuke the extra second of time to exact whatever revenge he had in mind. The kunoichi spared one minute to find Katsuyu, a bright pinpoint of white in the overwhelming darkness. Beneath the slug, lay the last injection of sedative, and she scooped them both up. 

“Follow me,” she instructed the last of the three summonings of Katsuyu’s body.  

The screaming was Sakura’s only compass in the storm, guiding her to the source of the brutalization. When she finally neared them, two dark obscurities in the night, Sasuke was fisting both of the man’s hands with his single grasp. The black flames of Amaterasu were already ravishing the bones of his ten fingers. 

“You seem awfully fond of these hands of yours,” Sasuke sneered, “let’s begin here, shall we?” The flames spread to the man’s palms and then his wrists, a drawn-out creeping of flickering black that couldn’t be anything other than an intentional deliberateness—to maximize the pain of it. The red-cloaked ninja’s screams were louder than any suffering Sakura had ever heard. 

The kunoichi could see the smirk on Sasuke’s face as she finally came around to face him, and her stomach turned to ice. Even his words delivered a blow to her heart in a familiar way. It was like the Chunin Exams: the ferocity, the visible fury rolling off of him in waves, the embracing of inner-darkness. Sakura had only ever seen Sasuke resort to methods of torture a few times in her life, and the sight struck such fear into her heart. Don’t you see? She thought to herself at the terrifying vision of the Uchiha stooped over the scorching man. Don’t you see what the price of his love will be? 

“Sasuke! Stop! You can’t kill him!” she shouted over the rain and guttural begging, grabbing onto the Uchiha’s clothing, fisting the wet fabric in her fingers. He didn’t budge, just let the fire spread as he watched and drank the pinned man’s screams, as if hearing them would quench a deeply buried thirst. 

When Sakura’s immense strength lifted Sasuke to his feet and pulled him away from the man, Sasuke’s leer twisted into a frown and a different sort of fury filled his eyes. As if Sasuke sensed her impending interference and decided to finish the job before she could convince him to stop, the fire erupted over the man’s chest with a quickening ferocity. At his resolve, Sakura panicked, making Sasuke look at her with two palms to his face.

His dead eyes found her, and he spat a response to her previous demand, “He doesn’t get to live.” 

The earsplitting screams intensified, and Sakura physically shook Sasuke, but he just glared down at her as the flames resumed their feast upon the man’s vaporizing flesh. “You’re not going to do this. You can’t kill someone because of me. I won’t let you go back to that!”

The words broke Sasuke’s carefully controlled anger. “I have spared hundreds today in your name! If it weren’t for you, they would all be dead. One of them can die, and it’s going to be him.”

“This isn’t who you are anymore!” Sakura shouted, willing her words into a truthful existence. She would hold on to him, the Sasuke she loved. The Sasuke who could see reason, act on ninja principles, and not let his emotions override his judgment. Not anymore. As a last attempt, she added. “You can be merciful. You don’t have to kill unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

Sasuke scoffed, choosing not to hide his smoldering ire as he broke eye contact with Sakura in order to survey the damage being done to the man who had attacked her. “It’s necessary.”

When he didn’t say anything else, Sakura demanded, “Spare one more. This is my mission and I need him to live.”

After a moment of deliberation, Sasuke snarled, like an animal being forced to give up its kill, and turned his back to her. With the dying of the Amaterasu, the screams turned into painful whimpers as the man spasmed on the ground. 

Sakura knelt beside the man, who now looked at her with desperation in his eyes. A begging for mercy that hadn’t been there earlier, now glistened with tears. “Remember that I spared your life,” Sakura told him, penetrating the vein in his collar with the needle of the syringe. “Maybe one day, a future version of you will deserve it.” The man’s eyelids fell, and even in his unconsciousness, Sakura could sense the relief that came with oblivion. The third slug had appeared by her side, and Sakura watched as Lady Katsuyu began channeling Sakura’s chakra in order to heal the man’s injuries. They were deep, penetrating wounds that would require intensive medical treatment. The draw on Sakura’s reserves zapped her, real fatigue coming over her now. 

“I can’t hold the summoning,” Sakura relayed to the two Katsuyus, one small and gliding over Sakura’s shoulder, the other encapsulating the injured man as the creature healed his injuries. She was the first to vanish, just like all those summoned before. 

“Don’t worry about me,” came Katsuyu’s small reassuring voice. “I can handle the rest until you arrive. Will you be okay?”

Sakura nodded, “Yes. Thank you, Lady Katsuyu.” With the last of the jutsu released, Sakura exhaled a sigh of relief as the drain on her chakra reserves lessened. She caught her breath, sitting in the muddy grass for a moment. 

When she turned to Sasuke, he was standing over her, silently brooding with an emotionless mask slipped back into place. 

Sakura wanted to yell at him for his recklessness. For interfering when she was more than capable of handling this herself. “You have potentially jeopardized my mission,” she informed him bitterly, rising to stand toe to toe with him. 

He didn’t respond, unmoving as he received her rebuke. Even the rain hailed down on them harder if that were even possible. And then the Uchiha was moving, taking her bloody palm, the hand that had come between Sasuke’s killing blow and his victim, between his fingers. She fisted it rebelliously, stiffening her arm, not quite ready to let her anger go. 

And so he grabbed her wrist instead, pulling her with him toward the circumference of trees closest to them. 

“I can’t leave,” she protested, digging her heals more firmly into the ground. She became immovable. “More of them could be on their way. I need to intercept them.” Sakura didn’t know how many more there would be, or what she was going to do to incapacitate them now that she was no longer able to summon Katsuyu. She would have to dig deep, fight until she couldn’t stand, pummeling them until she knocked them unconscious. 

Still not looking at anything but the wrist in which he gripped as if Sakura could be ripped away at any second, Sasuke confessed. “Every person who was headed in this direction in pursuit of you tonight was handled. I shoved each of them into another dimension.”

Sakura’s eyebrows rose as she stared at him speechlessly. For the first time since she observed him, Sakura noticed his heavy breathing. His Rinnegan eye was closed and the Sharingan deactivated, and Sakura recognized the tell of his exhaustion. He had overexerted himself, definitely a sign that he really had transported an unknown number of men through his Rinnegan’s portal tonight.

“At least for now, let’s get out of this rain,” he told her. “There’s a place not far from here.”

Sakura pulled her hand free from his grasp and Sasuke didn’t move to take it again, accepting and mirroring her own frustration. After a moment, he turned, and Sakura followed the coiled back of the Uchiha into the shelter of the trees, allowing him to lead her from the battlefield.  

[whump-me]

Conquest Masterpost

Watch your kingdom die. Betray what’s left to save your life.

Danelor was a peaceful country, a land of poets and musicians. Insignificant. Defenseless.

The merciless invaders swept in from the north and claimed it for their empire. They burned the farms and tortured the survivors for their entertainment. Their cruel soldiers slaughtered every last soul in the royal palace… except Miranelis, a cowardly clerk hiding in a pantry, too afraid to fight.

To Kezul, the disgraced son of the northern emperor, Danelor is a test. If he can keep control of the devastated land, he will not be stripped of his birthright. But he was only taught to conquer, not to rule.

Miranelis, now his captive, may not have the stomach for battle, but they understand the intricacies of rule. But they have no reason to help the conquerors who destroyed everything they loved.

So Kezul will have to give them one.

---

Conquest is no-magic fantasy whump with a royal whumper, a fearful but quietly defiant nonbinary whumpee, degradation, cultural differences, fantasy politics, and an intense and complicated relationship between whumper and whumpee (no romance).

It will also involve major character death, so steer clear if that’s not for you.

This story will be novel-length, with a planned 32 chapters. Updates twice a week. Ask to be added to or removed from tag list.

Chapters

Chapter 1: The Coward Chapter 2: The Exile Chapter 3: The Courtyard Chapter 4: A Valuable Resource Chapter 5: Bloodstains Chapter 6: Entertainment Chapter 7: A Taste of Courage Chapter 8: Blood Games Chapter 9: Test of Character Chapter 10: A Creature of Contradictions Chapter 11: An Unsolvable Puzzle Chapter 12: Another Way Chapter 13: Serving the Enemy Chapter 14: Negotiations Chapter 15: A New Form of Madness Chapter 16: The Unmaker Chapter 17: Trust and Loyalty Chapter 18: Conquer This One Chapter 19: For Your Own Good Chapter 20: Playing the Unmaker's Game Chapter 21: A Sick Craving Chapter 22: All That Remains Chapter 23: Choosing Defeat Chapter 24: What Cowardice Looks Like Chapter 25: A Walk in the Moonlight Chapter 26: The Pit Chapter 27: Everything You Ever Wanted Chapter 28: Perfectly Defeated Chapter 29: Place of Honor Chapter 30: Defeated Chapter 31: Victory Chapter 32: The Only Job Left

Here from a reblog? Here's the most recent version.

[snowdice]

Big Bang Editing Story [Day 120]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story years ago, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag ‘proofread stories.’ I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 52 Part 53

I have a list of tasks I need to finish, but some of them might take a while. So, expect there to be long breaks between sections.

Chapter 54 (Patton)

“I still can’t believe he’s allowing this,” King Thomas said from next to Patton. The two of them were standing at the edge of the arena outside the horse stable, watching from a safe distance.

“If he hadn’t tried to bite me earlier, I’d think he was a different horse,” Patton agreed.

“He doesn’t even let Logan ride him,” the king said. “At least not ride him and give him directions.”

Patton was very aware of that. Logan did on occasion choose to get up onto Mr. Apples’ saddle. However, Mr. Apples was always the once who got to decide where they went after that. Logan had no say.

With that in mind, Patton, Logan, and every stable hand who’d heard about the prospective riding lessons had tried to convince Virgil to learn to ride on a different horse. Virgil was just as stubborn as Mr. Apples however and had insisted. Logan, being the only one who could be around Mr. Apples without risking being kicked, had become his de facto tutor.

Not even Logan could have expected that within a week, Virgil would be able to control Mr. Apples. Though perhaps ‘control’ was the wrong word. Nothing could control Mr. Apples, but for some reason, Mr. Apples seemed willing to do as Virgil asked.

Even right now Mr. Apples was trotting around the training arena like he was a well-trained trick horse warming up with his rider.

“Logan told him we could go on an actual ride today if the lesson went well,” Patton told the king. The lesson seemed to be just getting over because Logan said something to Virgil and Virgil started to climb off. Mr. Apples was patient and still as he dismounted.

“Do you think he’d mind if I went with you?” King Thomas asked.

Patton shrugged. “Mr. Apples might.”

“Mr. Apples definitely will,” the king replied. “I’ll come anyway.”

Logan had walked over to where Patton and the king were standing while Virgil fed Mr. Apples some apple pieces as a reward.

“I hear you’re going to go riding today,” King Thomas said.

Logan nodded. “Mr. Apples seems to listen to him well enough,” he said.

“I might join you if that’s alright. Where are you kids going?” the king asked.

“I was thinking the main forest path,” Logan replied. “It’s not a particularly difficult route, but it’s also a part of the castle grounds Virgil hasn’t been able to see yet. Loraine told me it has been recently cleared after the winter.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” the king said. “Are you going now?”

“Once Patton and I saddle up our horses,” Logan said. “You can come.”

“Great,” the king said with a smile. “I’ll ask for Bella’s saddle to be brought out. I haven’t gone on a ride yet this week.”

He turned then to walk towards the stables leaving Patton and Logan alone.

“Do you think he’s been acting weird?” Logan asked, turning towards Patton.

Patton frowned. “No,” he said. “Not really.”

“I’m just wondering why he wants to go horseback riding with us.”

“He likes spending time with you?” Patton guessed.

“Yes,” Logan said, “but typically in a setting that doesn’t involve Mr. Apples.”

Well, that was fair.

“I mean, it’s not too weird,” Patton said, thinking back through the last couple of days. King Thomas had been a bit… clingy.

“He’s been hanging around a lot,” Logan said, echoing Patton’s thoughts with narrowed eyes. He glanced back at Virgil. “You don’t think Virgil let something slip, do you?”

“He didn’t say anything,” Patton said. “I think your dad would say something if Virgil let slip he was an assassin somehow.”

“Unless he let slip something that didn’t quite implicate himself but invited suspicion.”

“Your dad doesn’t seem suspicious,” Patton said. At least, Patton didn’t think he did. He hadn’t been acting mean in any way. In fact, he might have even been acting nicer.

Logan frowned. “We should keep an eye on him, especially around Virgil.”

Patton bit his lip.

“What?” Logan asked.

“Are we ever going to tell your dad about Virgil?” he asked.

Logan hesitated. “I don’t…” he trailed. “I’m not sure.”

“It just feels weird lying for so long,” Patton said. Patton didn’t lie a lot. Sure, maybe he’d pretend to not know what Mama was talking about when sweets went missing from the kitchens or he’d pretend to not know what Logan’s birthday gift was, but he’d never lied about anything serious before now.

“I know, but,” Logan glanced back at Virgil once again, “even if we did decide to tell, we’d have to convince Virgil everything would be alright beforehand. I don’t think we’re at that point yet. He was terrified of Father until a few months ago, and he’s still cautious around him sometimes.”

Logan was right, of course. Virgil was getting more and more comfortable around the king, but he figured any of the progress made would go down the drain as soon as they brought up telling King Thomas about where exactly Virgil had come from. Patton didn’t know if Virgil would ever be comfortable enough.

“We should go get our own horses,” Logan suggested, and Patton nodded.

Patton and Logan’s horses had already been saddled by the stable hands in anticipation of their ride and it didn’t take long for the king to saddle his own horse, Bella.

The forest path at this time of year was very pretty, Patton thought. The tree branches now had small green leaves on them after having been barren for the entire winter and flowers were starting to grow. In a few weeks’ time it would be even prettier, but it would also be harder for the groundskeeper to maintain as well as it was right now.

Virgil really did seem less anxious around King Thomas now. The path was only wide enough for two horses to go at once, and he didn’t seem to mind that he and the king ended up next to each other while Patton and Logan lagged behind. In fact, he and the king seemed to be having a nice conversation about the local wildlife.

However, if Patton looked close enough, he did sort of see what Logan meant. Virgil may not be anxious talking to the king now, but the king himself seemed just a little bit nervous at least at the beginning of the ride.

He seemed to relax a bit as they rode (even laughing when Mr. Apples tried to bite him when he got too close).

Logan had been teaching Virgil the basics about things like animals, but there was still a pretty big gap in his education when it came to anything that wasn’t about training to fight and kill. King Thomas seemed more than willing to answer any of his questions when it came to the animals and plants around them even if they were sometimes a bit silly.

He’d seen a bird that looked like a dove. (It may have even been a dove, but Patton hadn’t seen it.) This had been a source of endless confusion for him.

“But shouldn’t it live in the dovecote?” Virgil asked.

“Not all birds live in a dovecote,” the king explained again.

“But it’s a dove,” Virgil said with a frown.

“Not all doves live in a dovecote,” the king replied.

“But it’s a dovecote,” Virgil argued. “It’s for the doves.”

“Yes, but there are also wild doves,” the king said.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Virgil replied.

“What about it doesn’t make sense?” the king asked with a laugh in his tone.

“Doves go in the dovecote,” Virgil said.

Patton was starting to have trouble following this argument.

“Dovecotes are made for doves,” the king said, “but not all doves go in dovecotes.”

“Why?”

This seemed to stump the king momentarily, but he still answered after thinking for a bit. “Doves existed before people got to them,” the king explained. “People caught and trained some of them, but there was no way to catch all of them. So, some stayed in the wild and continued with their lives like they had been before humans. Plus, sometimes domesticated doves fly off and never come back. Sometimes they might die, but other times they may have just gotten lost and had to build a new life somewhere far away. Or maybe they even decided that being a trained dove working for humans wasn’t for them, so they decided to go off on their own.”

“You let them do that?” Virgil asked.

“We can’t really stop them in the end,” the king said. “People can try, but it never ends up working as long as they can fly.”

Virgil thought about this. “I still don’t understand,” he said, “but okay.”

“We should take you to the cliffs,” the king suggested.

“What are the cliffs?”

“The castle grounds were built for defense,” King Thomas explained. “The edge of the grounds to the North is a large river and overlooking it is a huge cliff. It’s a good place for picnics and for birdwatching. It’s a bit of a trip, but now would be a good time of year to go.”

He glanced over his shoulder back at Logan and Patton. “What do you boys think about going to the cliffs sometime? Maybe in about a week?”

Logan squinted at his father suspiciously. It wasn’t so much the fact that the king was asking them to go to the cliffs. They did that every so often. However, this time, it only supported Logan’s claims that the king was hanging out with them a lot recently.

“Sure,” Logan said, after a moment.

“Sounds fun!” Patton said cheerily right after, trying to cover for the lack of enthusiasm in Logan’s voice with his own. Judging by King Thomas’s expression and Logan’s tight-lipped scowl, he may have overcompensated.

“Great,” the king said. “I’ll” make sure to make arrangements when we get back to the castle.”

Chapter 55 (Logan)

            Virgil was beginning to be able to read some of the common instructions in magic books, but Logan still made sure to read out the instructions to him at least twice before setting him loose. He’d started to jot down notes to himself about things, though these notes were not words, but various symbols that only made sense to the boy himself.

            Logan had asked about their meaning at one point and received an answer that, while earnest, was unintelligible. The symbols were mostly just pictures of things to represent certain steps in spell casting, but they were filtered through Virgil’s rudimentary penmanship and often bizarre perception of the world.

Though, despite the fact that Logan could not often decipher his chicken scratch, it did seem to help him produce impressively quality charms even as Logan began to introduce more complicated processes to make them. He was a very good student even if he didn’t have the best foundation for learning.

“I add lavender for the next step, right?” Virgil asked, his finger on a word in Logan’s magic book.

“That is correct,” Logan confirmed.

Virgil looked back at the book and mouthed the word ‘lavender’ to himself before turning back to his potion. He grabbed a few sprigs of lavender and threw them into the cauldron.

The liquid popped and bubbled violently, but Virgil didn’t flinch as he once would have, prepared for it now.

After the lavender, Logan knew that it would have to simmer for 5 minutes. Virgil looked down at the boiling liquid, contemplating it for a long moment.

“Can I soak a knife in it?” he asked.

“What?” Logan asked.

“Can I soak a knife in the potion once it’s done?”

“In that potion?” Logan clarified. “In the emergency hand warmer potion?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I think a hot knife would be useful,” Virgil said.

“For what?”

Virgil shrugged. “Cooking food on the road,” he said, “burning wood, stabbing someone and immediately cauterizing the wound.”

“That is… not a standard use for this potion,” Logan said.

Virgil titled his head at him. “Would it work though?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Logan contemplated. “Perhaps. The potion can cause burns if one uses too much of it or if it is used without an appropriate layer between it and the skin. If one were to pick a knife with enough surface area and let it soak long enough, it could in theory get hot enough to do as desired. Hmm…” he thought about it. “There would perhaps be the problem of the potion not sticking to the knife very long as it is intended to soak into fabric. However, cardamom could solve that issue as long as it doesn’t interact with any other ingredients. Let me see that spell.”

Virgil stepped out of his way so he could study the page. “Yes,” Logan said after scanning through all of the ingredients. “I think coriander would work for something like that. Let me go find some.”

He turned to walk towards where he kept his supplies of potion ingredients. Virgil followed on his heals.

“Can we use a serrated knife?”

“Oh, that’s a good idea, Virgil,” Logan said, nodding as he searched through the cupboard that should hold the coriander. “The knife being serrated would help keep the potion stuck to the blade after many uses and would increase the surface area.”

“That was certainly my intentions,” Virgil said smoothly. There was something odd about the tone that had Logan turning to him and blinking at him. Virgil just smiled at him innocently and Logan turned back to the cabinet finally locating the coriander.

“So how are we going to use that?” Virgil asked.

“We’ll put it in right before the last step and let it sit for about 3 minutes,” Logan said. “If it doesn’t quite work, we may need to make another batch. There are options other than coriander, but that’s the first idea that comes to mind and it a lot simpler if it works.”

He continued to speak of the many other options they could try as they returned to the caldron as well as how they could test the hot knife. It was already about time for the next step and Virgil did it without interrupting Logan’s rant.

Virgil listened to his suggestions with interest all while still making sure the potion he was making was progressing well.

Logan did eventually take over to finish the potion with the revised steps he’d come up with and they ended up with a potion that looked perfect except it was a few shades darker than the one they’d originally been planning to make.

“Well, it looks good,” Logan declared. “We will need to acquire a knife to test its effectiveness, however.”

“There are a few good ones in the kitchen,” Virgil pointed out. “I especially like the one 10 inch one with the black and white handle.”

“You have been eyeing up the kitchen knives?” Logan asked.

Virgil rolled his eyes as though that was not a perfectly reasonable question to ask him. “We should steal that one,” Virgil said.

“Do you think we’ll be able to sneak past Ms. Heart to steal a knife from her kitchen?” Logan asked.

“We can’t,” Virgil said.

Logan almost didn’t believe him… and then he remembered the water pouch incident. “It’s the dinner rush,” Logan said. “We should probably wait for a bit.”

Virgil was shaking his head. “The dinner rush is the best time,” he said. “Everyone will be distracted, and all of the knives will be out and in prime stealing position.”

“And if Patton’s mother catches us messing around in her kitchen during her busiest time of day, she will have Father ground us for a week.”

“Then we just won’t get caught,” Virgil said.

“I’m not sure if it’s that simple,” Logan said with a frown.

“You can stay here if you want,” Virgil offered. “I’ll just go by myself.”

“No, I’ll come too,” Logan relented, though he did still have some reservations about the idea.

He let Virgil lead him towards the main dining hall. By now, Virgil knew the kitchens and dining hall very well.

“Stay here,” he said. They were in a hallway a few feet down from the staff entrance to the kitchen. “I’m going to do some reconnaissance.”

“What type of reconnaissance?” Logan asked, but Virgil had already disappeared before his very eyes. With a blink, Logan looked up and saw a dark figure disappear onto a balcony overhead.

Well, Logan really had no choice but to wait there for him. It wasn’t like he could follow him. He could hear the clatter of silverware on plates from the dining hall down the corridor as he impatiently waited. It only took Virgil a bit over five minutes to return. He dropped suddenly from above and landed in front of Logan in a crouch.

“Well?” Logan asked, letting a bit of irritation into his tone so Virgil knew he was displeased. Virgil did not seem to care.

“Got it,” Virgil said with a wide grin, brandishing a large kitchen knife.

Logan flinched back at the unexpected sight of a weapon.

“You said you were doing reconnaissance!” he sputtered. “Not…” he trailed off remembering that while they weren’t in eyesight of anyone right now, they could be in earshot of someone. He lowered his tone, “stealing the knife already.”

“I was doing reconnaissance,” Virgil said with a shrug, “and then I used the information gathered by that reconnaissance to steal a knife.”

Logan narrowed his eyes at him.

Virgil just smiled. “You would have gotten in my way.”

“I would not have,” Logan insisted.

“How many times has Patton’s mom caught you stealing food from the kitchens in the past?” he asked.

Logan pursed his lips. “That is Patton’s doing,” he said.

“Sure,” Virgil said with an eyeroll. “I’ll have you prove it some other day, but for now,” he twirled the knife around in a way that made Logan cringe even though he did seem to have an expert handle over it. “We have a knife.”

“Right,” Logan agreed with a nod. “We should continue the experiment.”

Virgil stored the knife away… somewhere on his person, and they snuck back to Logan’s rooms.

When Virgil handed over the knife, Logan did have to admit it was a perfect specimen for their project: long and saw-like with a heatproof handle.

Logan carefully set it in a shallow dish and proceeded to pour the potion they’d made onto it. They let it sit for a little under half an hour before carefully pulling it out of the concoction with tongs and letting it airdry. Meanwhile, Virgil suggested they set up a testing area with various old sheets and clothing. They’d even found and decorated an armor stand with an old suit that Logan particularly disliked.

“Well,” Logan said once he’d tapped the handle and had not gotten burned by the potion. “I think we can test it now.” For safety, he made Virgil put on thick heatproof gloves before handing him the knife.

“So how do I make it work?” Virgil asked.

“The original potion works through light friction,” Logan said.

“So just start stabbing things?”

Logan went to respond, but before he could, Virgil had already twisted around and sliced through one of the sheets hanging in Logan’s potion room. There was a sizzling noise as the knife cut through the sheet like it was tissue paper leaving two aflame halves flapping about.

Logan leapt forward to tear the pieces of sheet down and the two of them stomped on the flames to put out the fire.

“It’s perfect,” Virgil said with a grin once the charred remains of the sheet were extinguished.

“It does seem to work as intended,” Logan agreed.

“Let’s do it again,” Virgil said.

“Er, well, perhaps we shouldn’t…,” Logan started, but Virgil had already set his eyes on the armor stand they’d set up. That suddenly seemed like not such a good idea to Logan.

He stabbed the armor stand viciously. It went up in flames instantly. Logan’s eyes widened as the blaze only seemed to get bigger as Virgil drew back the knife.

Virgil did not seem to share Logan’s worry as he turned and stabbed another piece of hanging clothing, setting it ablaze as well.

“Virgil, no! You’re going to burn the room down!” Logan yelped.

The armor stand at that very moment decided to fall to the ground. They had, perhaps, not set the testing area up as well as they should have because it fell directly onto one of Logan’s rugs and set that on fire as well.

“Oops,” Virgil said, eyes wide.

Above the sound of crackling fire, Logan heard a tapping on the door between his bedroom and work room. It opened slightly after a moment and Logan’s father’s voice called out as he was sticking his head into the room, “Um, what do you mean Virgil… is burning the room down!”

The moment Logan’s father fully processed the presence of the flames, he was bursting into the room. He at least remembered that there was a fire extinguishing powder stocked in Logan’s work room even though that fact had slipped Logan’s mind in the chaos. (Perhaps Logan should have thought to set it out when they were testing a fire knife, but Logan would just add that to his growing list of regrets.)

The king managed to put all of the fires out within 30 seconds of poking his head through the door, but the fire left in his eyes when he turned to them afterwards was perhaps more dangerous.

Virgil slowly hid the knife behind his back. It was probably a bit late for that.

“What were the two of you doing in here?” the king asked.

“Nothing,” Logan said. Virgil shot him a look that told Logan what the boy thought about his lying abilities.

Logan’s father put his hands on his hips. “‘Nothing’ set the rug on fire?”

“We may have been doing a small experiment,” Logan said.

“What experiment?” the king asked.

“…I don’t wish to say.”

“Logan.”

“Virgil wanted a fire knife.”

“A what?”

Virgil frowned over at Logan. “Your resistance to interrogation techniques is deplorable.”

Father turned to look at Virgil and obviously spotted the fact that Virgil was holding something behind his back.

“Give it here,” Father said, though his tone was a bit gentler with Virgil than it had been with Logan.

Virgil debated it for a moment, but then offered over the knife with a pout on his face. Father gingerly took it and the fire-resistant gloves from him. “Where did the two of you even get this knife?”

“You can’t tell her,” Logan said.

“You stole a knife from the kitchens?!” the king asked.

“We borrowed it,” Logan said.

“Can it be used for cooking anymore?”

“…Well.”

“In the intended manner.”

“No.”

“Then you stole it.”

Logan just frowned and looked away.

“I’m going to go put this in a secure location,” Father said, grimacing at the fire knife in his hands. “No more experiments for you two for a month. I’ll sic Patton on you.”

With that, he picked up what was left of the fire extinguishing powder (just in case) and turned to exit the room.

“Well,” Logan said once he was gone. “That was irresponsible.”

“I could steal it back from him.”

“N-no don’t do that.”

“I definitely could though,” Virgil said.

“I did not hear you say that,” Logan said, putting his hands over his ears. “I am not responsible for any more of your actions in this matter. I am going to the library.”

He walked out of the room then and Virgil followed him to the upstairs library. He said nothing more about the fire knife, but Logan would be a fool to suppose he forgot about it.

Chapter 56 (Thomas)

“Good day for a picnic,” Helen commented as she handed over the basket Thomas had requested from her a few days before. He was taking Logan, Patton, and Virgil to the cliffs today and it was perfect weather for it. Spring was truly here, which meant that those of Thomas’s duties that had laid dormant over the harsh winter were about to start up again.

The world had been on pause for a bit considering no armies or agents from any kingdom could get through the snow the last few months, but the concerns of last fall were showing their heads once again.

Thomas had just gotten word a day ago that the queen of Lamir had routed out a second assassin hiding in her ranks over the winter. The assassin had been sent shortly after it was made clear that the queen wouldn’t bow down after the assassination of her mother. Luckily, the assassin sent for Queen Cecil had not managed to complete her mission during the winter months.

While there had been no similar attempt on Prijaznia soil, Thomas couldn’t help but feel it was only a matter of time now that the snow had melted. They were already working on increasing security in the coming weeks and, though it was doubtful an assassin had managed to hide in the castle all winter without revealing themselves, they’d be closely scrutinizing all of the newer staff members.

It would be a stressful time in the coming months, which is why, despite everything Thomas needed to do, he was still going to take his son and his son’s friends on a picnic today. Logan had already started taking on royal duties as of late, but he still hadn’t taken them all on quite yet. Considering this was last summer before Logan was of age, they should at least try to take advantage of it where they could. Patton was a year younger, but the sentiment held for him as well.

Then there was Virgil. Despite their best efforts, they still didn’t know enough about Virgil, but Thomas was fairly sure he’d never had a summer to enjoy until now.

“Thanks for prepping lunch for us,” Thomas said to Helen with a smile.

“No problem,” she said waving them off. “I put in some of Virgil’s favorites.”

“Great,” Thomas said. “Do you know where the kids are?”

“Patton said they were going to go pet the cats, so I’d guess they’re in the gardens.”

Thomas thanked her again and told her to have a good day before exiting the kitchen. There was a nearby door that led straight towards the part of the gardens Patton and Logan had always favored. He figured they’d either still be around there or they would have wandered towards the stables by now knowing that they’d be taking horses to the cliffs.

So, he decided to simply walk the normal path from the door to the stable, hoping to find them.

His prediction ended up being hilariously correct. They were indeed on the path Thomas had chosen. It was clear they (or at least Logan) were attempting to make it to the stable. However, as was typical, a portion of the party had been waylaid by whimsy.

Logan was standing further down the path, arms crossed and frowning as he watched his friends. Patton and Virgil were surrounded by cats. Patton was sitting down, holding two of them in his lap and watching Virgil’s legs being swarmed by the rest of them, maybe two dozen in total.

Virgil looked confused, but not unhappy about the presence of so many cats. He was leaning down to try to pet them all.

Logan met Thomas’s eyes as he approached and waved a frustrated hand at the two of them. Logan couldn’t help but smile.

“Virgil fed one of them,” Logan complained as though he wanted Thomas to somehow go into the past and prevent this crime.

Patton and Virgil looked over at Thomas, noticing him when Logan addressed him.

“You’re going to make Princess Marisol jealous,” Thomas said. Logan frowned at Thomas as he used the ‘Princess’ label for the cat.

“Princess Marisol decided not to come,” Virgil said with a shrug. He continued to pet one of the cats.

“She’s probably sleeping on my pillow,” Logan said, sounding grumpy.

Thomas just chuckled. Princess Marisol was technically Logan’s cat, at least that’s what the kids said, and she did spend much of her time in the royal rooms. However, she was very clearly actually Virgil’s cat. Virgil just spent a lot of time in the royal wing as well.

In fact, Thomas still didn’t know where Virgil was supposed to be sleeping. He and Mr. Deknis had actually tried to tail him a couple of times, but he always ended up sleeping in Logan’s room those nights.

Knowing Virgil, he might just sleep in the walls. Though that still did not answer the question of where his parents or guardians were. They still had not figured it out. Thomas would assume he was an orphan who’d snuck onto castle grounds for safety, but Virgil had told Mr. Deknis during their first meeting that he was supposed to be in the castle, and it had not been a lie.

Then again, it had slowly become apparent that Virgil was good at dodging the multrum’s powers. It was starting to seem more likely that he’d somehow inserted a second meaning into his answer to Mr. Deknis that night than he somehow had some ghost guardian no one was able to locate working in the castle.

“She deserves the pillow more than you,” Virgil said, bringing Thomas’s thoughts back to the situation at hand. The look of audacity on Logan’s face made Thomas chuckle.

Thomas cut in before it could become a fight. “I could get Princess Marisol a pillow, so she doesn’t sleep on yours. Or we can get you a new pillow if you’d prefer, Logan.”

“It’s not about the pillow for her,” Logan argued. “It’s about her inflated sense of superiority.”

“She deserves it,” Virgil declared. Thomas could tell he was just trying to rile Logan up, and Thomas was sure Logan knew it too, but still his son reacted exactly in the way Virgil wanted him to.

“You have enabled and encouraged this behavior from the start!” Logan seethed.

“She’s a Princess.”

“She is not a princess!”

Patton shook his head while squeezing the cats in his arms, completely used to this behavior at this point. He ran a chin idly over one of the cat’s heads while watching the argument.

“We’re never going to make it to the picnic at this rate,” Thomas said to him, “and after your mother made all of this wonderful food.”

“You’re the dad,” Patton said. “Make them stop.”

And, of course, Patton did just mean that he was Logan’s dad with that statement. However, when he glanced back up at the silly argument still going on between his son and the cat covered boy on the ground, it did almost look like a fight between siblings.

Especially with the dark hair and stubborn but mischievous look in Virgil’s eyes, Thomas could almost imagine the boy being his own child.

He shook away the thoughts and glanced at the picnic basket in his hand.

“We do have a lot of food in this basket,” Thomas said, pitching his voice up so that Logan (and more importantly) Virgil would hear them clearly.

Virgil immediately turned to look at him, abandoning all interest in antagonizing Logan to look at the basket curiously.

Thomas was never sure if he should be amused or worried about how food motivated Virgil often was.

“What’s in the basket?” Virgil asked.

“I’m not sure,” Thomas said. “Patton’s mom made it. We’ll just have to see once we get to the picnic area.”

Virgil nodded in understanding and began to gently scoot all of the cats out of his lap. Logan rolled his eyes, but didn’t seem inclined to continue the argument he’d been dragged into. Virgil and Patton got to their feet and they continued on their way towards the stables.

The horses Thomas had requested be prepared for their trip were already in saddles, though the stable hand who had been handling Mr. Apples seemed a bit dirtier and more exhausted than the rest.

The stable hand seemed as happy to hand Mr. Apples over to Virgil as Virgil was to have Mr. Apples handed over to him. Thomas received Bella with a smile and Logan and Patton got their own horses as well.

The Cliffs were about half an hour's ride from the main castle. There was a mostly well-maintained path to it, though it was easy to get lost if one didn’t know the way. Mr. Apples knew the way perhaps better than Thomas himself and seemed annoyed by the fact that Thomas was trying to lead the way.

Virgil and Thomas ended up side-by-side whenever the path allowed it to placate him.

He still marveled at how willing Mr. Apples was to let Virgil ride him, especially when he tossed his head in Thomas’s direction, a horse’s equivalent of giving Thomas a stink-eye.

“Are you excited for the picnic?” Thomas asked the boy beside him.

Virgil glanced over at him and nodded.

“I am too,” Thomas said. “It’s always beautiful this time of year. I’m glad I could find the time to take you all there this year.”

“Are you very busy?” Virgil asked curiously.

“I am king,” Thomas reminded, “and now that the world isn’t snowed in anymore things will be busy.”

“With the war?” Virgil asked.

84582

Thomas paused for a few seconds. “Yes,” he confirmed. “With the war, but you don’t need to worry about that.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Virgil asked.

“You’re just a kid,” Thomas said.

“I’m 14,” Virgil said.

Thomas glanced at him. “Exactly,” he said, “a kid, and luckily, you’re in a place that can afford you the luxury of being one.”

“What do you mean?”

“The war has been mainly fought on Mocnejsi soil in recent years. Our boarders have held strong against invasions. Unless something goes horribly wrong suddenly, it would take a long time for the main conflict to get here. The only real threat in the castle would be assassins sent after me personally.”

“Right,” Virgil said. There was an awkward pause in conversation before he spoke again. “You’re winning the war then?” he asked.

“Something could always happen,” Thomas said, “but for the most part, yes, we have quite the advantage right now.”

“Oh,” Virgil said.

Thomas shook his head as they were coming up to a narrowing of the path. “Anyway, today is a day to not think about war. Today we’re going to have a lovely picnic and do some bird watching.”

“Right,” Virgil agreed from behind Thomas as Bella took the lead (to Mr. Apples discontent.)

When the path widened again, Thomas did his best to direct the topic to lighter subjects and soon they made it to The Cliffs.

Chapter 57 (Virgil)

Virgil had never been to a picnic. At least, that’s what Patton had informed him when Virgil had described his past experiences of eating outdoors. Logan had agreed even though he’d admitted that the definition of “picnic” was only eating a pre-packaged meal outdoors which Virgil had done plenty of times.

From what Virgil could tell, the main difference was just how much stuff one brought to a picnic.

In addition to the basket full of food (that Virgil still hadn’t gotten to look in yet), the king had brought a large soft quilt that he had Logan and Virgil spread out on the ground for them all to sit on.

Patton and Logan had also packed some things themselves to bring along. Logan had brought along a book to read, and Patton had brought along a board game (thankfully not checkers but something Virgil did not recognize). Virgil hadn’t brought anything (except for the fire knife he was definitely not supposed to have and was definitely not letting the king see) because he hadn’t known he was supposed to bring things. He wouldn’t have known what to bring anyway.

The blanket was soft and a much better alternative to sitting on the ground, especially because, while there was grass at the top of The Cliffs, there were also a good number of rocks.

The king set the picnic basket in the middle of the blanket once it was spread out and then lowered himself down to sit on one side. Patton quickly followed him, already fiddling with some of his board game pieces, though he wasn’t setting it up yet. Virgil highly doubted that Logan was going to be allowed to read his book unless Patton eventually got bored of the game.

However, they would, hopefully, be allowed to make use of the basket the king had brought along.

Virgil followed the king and Patton’s lead and got to his knees on the blanket across the picnic basket from the king. He peered at the basket curiously.

He didn’t quite know what picnic food was, but Patton had told them they’d be getting ‘picnic food’ and he was very curious about what that meant.

King Thomas smiled at him. “Let’s see what Patton’s mom packed us, huh?” He reached for the basket and flipped it open as Logan sat next to Virgil. “There is a lot more food than usual in here,” the king said, sounding amused. “Let’s see.”

He began to pull out packaged food and glanced in each package to identify it before setting it out.

“We have a few types of mini sandwiches,” he said, putting them down, “and some pasta salad.” He set down the bowl.

“We also have… er something else.” He showed it to Logan.

“They’re hot cauliflower bites,” Logan said instantly upon seeing them. Virgil perked up in excitement. That was one of his favorite foods.

“Ah,” King Thomas said, but shrugged and set it down. “We also have two desserts apparently: cookies and mini apple pies. That last one’s a bit extra for a picnic.”

“They’re very good,” Virgil said happily.

“And we also have.” King Thomas paused, looking confused. “Chicken alfredo?”

“Yes!” Virgil said.

“Why do we have chicken alfredo for a picnic?”

“It’s a Virgil picnic,” Logan groaned. “She packed us a Virgil picnic.”

“Hey, at least momma sent us something too,” Patton said.

[distortedclouds]

I'm here for the writer's ask game :)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5,6, 7, 8, 11, 12, 15, 16, 27, 28, 29, 30, 37, 39

Well, hello there! :D

Questions 1,3,5,6,7:

Answered here

2. Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

Memory loss, but also growing old together. I think both tropes would require a lot of care and nuance to go into characterization that'd be very interesting to me

4. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

Quite a few, actually! A couple of one-shots I'm working on, but also long-fics that I'm not sure whether I'll have the time or energy to tackle

The one most likely (still unlikely) to see the light of day is a post-rumbling, fake-dating fic because everyone's trying to get the new ambassador of peace to marry their daughter and Armin is (and Annie) just getting sick of it all

I mostly want it to be Armin-centric, everything that "Take my hand" fic was meant to be but couldn't (sorry Moon)

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

This probably wont' be the most honest/accurate answer, but since my brain has been flooded with ch 20 for the past 2 weeks-ish straight, it's gotta be this:

“I knew it, you and your plans,” Annie breathes with a small laugh, and it’s enough to make him smile, too. It always is. “What? You’re planning on marrying me on a remote beach somewhere?” “I will,” he promises. “You’ll get sand in your shoes.” She smiles. “Our friends will all be there.” He hopes. “The cake will get dirty.” She frowns. “I’ll promise to love you,” he vows. “We’ll spend the whole night brushing sand out of our hair instead of anything fun.” she pouts. “Yeah.” “I think I’d like that, Armin,” she murmurs, voice soft in his ears as she shuffles closer.

Dialogue is already not my strongest suit, so whenever I find myself writing bits that just flow between the two characters, I'm immediately pleased!

11. Is writing your passion or just a fun hobby?

Is there a difference between the two? I've been writing stuff and imagining worlds and scenarios since as far back as I could remember. I find writing to be an excellent practice of empathy and compassion, for not only people I may otherwise not fully understand, but also extending it to myself and how I may be feeling at specific times but having a hard time realize

definitely a passion!

12. Is there an episode above all others that inspires you just a little bit more?

I wouldn't say an episode/chapter, since I'm mostly consuming aot as whole arcs. But definitely the final arc, not only for aruani, but also as a life philosophy, if that makes sense lol

15. If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

I mean... I wanna saw BW, since that's the apple of my eye, but I also fail to see how so much internal monologue and emotional writing can be distilled into an image (but then again, I'm not well versed in the visual arts)

It's gonna have to be I'm begging for you to take my hand

16. If you only could write one pairing for the rest of your life, which pairing would it be?

I may be biased to my current writing, but I can totally see myself exploring a wide variety of human emotions and circumstances with Armin and Annie in the aot universe and outside it

27. How do you feel about collaborations?

Never been in one before. It's intriguing but also the perfect opportunity for my imposter syndrome to step in and fear of disappointing other writers I may be working alongside

28. Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

It'd be hypocritical not to mention @/you first! Not only is your writing incredibly poetic and artistic in nature, it also delves into the very depths of a character's emotions. It feels like I'm writing something that should be categorized as literary, instead of just writing or fiction

@moonspirit (come get yo praise!)

It's the movement and animation in your writing that always captures me. Everything always feels so vivid and alive even if it's inanimate! You're like of Ghibli studio was a literary publishing house

@/ackermom on AO3

the emotional pull is out of this world HOLLY FUCK! I can't just casually read any of their fics, I need to mentally prepare (maybe even have a full day off :| )

29. If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

@dudewhy3 give us more of deep cuts!! (no pressure :) )

30. Do you accept prompts?

Yes and no. When I do I usually only do it for very short drabbles just as an exercise in writing and have some "mindless" fun so I don't have to stress over every single word I write

37. Talk about your current wips.

Well, I wanna finish BW sometime within the next month or so, A couple of... one-shots that I wanna write (IYKYK) but I also really wanna get back into Slow and Steady

39. Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?

If it's on tumblr:

Similarly on AO3, I just don't give them the time of day. People like that 99% of the time are just looking for a reaction because they have nothing better to do IRL and want to feel important online. I just don't engage

[jnnmind]

at this very moment (jan 3, 2025)

i'm 6k into TDTFOOL! it surprisingly has just been flowing out - the same way that ric flair drip and nouvelle vague did so i really hope that i learn as much from this experience as i did from those fics.

almost all of the exposition has been set up (there's only about 1k words left of exposition) so all i really have left to explore is the actual ten days before they break up and then the aftermath. it's looking like this fic might push a little bit past 18k (likely closer to 22k) but hey, maybe i'll knock it out a little bit sooner than i expected.

as of right now, it looks like TDTFOOL is still charted to have a january 27th release, which is exciting. i should finish all of the writing by january 20th and then i just have 7 days to edit it and create all of the formatting and everything before i publish it!

i'm about 5k away from finishing the third chapter of TSROW, so that might go out in the next week or so after i rearrange some of the plot points i originally thought i was going to be putting into the third chapter which i might just move to the fourth chapter instead.

so! this is the very tentative uploading schedule that i forsee over the next few months:

TRSOW 3 -> jan 10, 2025

TDTFOOL -> jan 27, 2025

good liars -> february 28, 2025

beautiful you -> march 31, 2025

midnight in paris -> may 5, 2025 (switching to taesan, instead of sungchan)

that ain't my baby -> may 29, 2025

two reflections into one -> june 27, 2025 (switching to shinyu instead of k)

young doves lay their head here -> august 1, 2025

blue jeans -> august 29, 2025 (will be going through an entire revamp after taking out the soulmate concept)

DNA. -> september 27, 2025 (shifting to taesan)

goodness, gracious, great balls of fire! -> november 3, 2025

great teacher y/n -> november 30, 2025

wish upon a dying star -> december 29, 2025

in between these releases, i'm also hoping to release plastic grapes, TRSOW IV, V, VI, VII, and VIII. maybe a few shorter fics along the way if the situation lends itself to that :)

[middleagerunblog]

XXIV.

Week 3 Recap

Exercise:

Sun Dec 24 - walked the dog for 35 min, then attempted the Jens Bangsbo Yo-Yo Endurance test, got to 7 and stopped because I didn't want to ruin my Christmas Eve, need to be in better shape before I take a serious crack at that, and now have way more respect for the condition of my younger 2 kids that play competitive soccer and have to do this test from time to time

Mon Dec 25 - 9:48a, outdoors near home, 3.5 mi, 35:54, 10:13 pace

Tue Dec 26 - swapped schedules with Wed, 7:05a, outdoors near home, 3 mi, 30:52, 10:15 pace

Wed Dec 27 - swapped schedules with Tue, 7:17a, outdoors near home, intervals 6 x 400m with easy pace before, between, and after

Thu Dec 28 - rest

Fri Dec 29 - rest

Sat Dec 30 - 7:30a, Clermont Riverfront parkrun, 3.1 mi, 24:26, 7:53 pace

Diet:

I don't really want to dwell on this week's eating performance too much, a week that included Christmas Eve and Christmas and the hangovers thereafter.

I followed up Week 1's B/B+ performance with a C+/B- in Week 2 then a just below C- in Week 3. This puts me at a 2.40 EGPA for Q1, somewhere between a C+ and a B-. I could sit here and analyze my eating results by day of the week, point out the surprises, break down the opportunities for improvement, but I already said I'm not going to dwell on it, and I am working on plans to get better next week.

Alcohol - 9 drinks in Week 3, 9! From 6 in Week 1 to 8 in Week 2 to 9. 9!! This can't be helping with my eating, though I can't really blame it. At the holidays, meals that are too big and too many sweets leads to alcohol more than the other way around. Allowing some New Year's Eve beers, then probably some red wine in January before teetotaling February.

Weigh-in:

Didn't weigh-in this week.

Music:

↳ Favorite new album of 2023 was probably 10,000 gecs by 100 gecs, favorite song from the album is probably, "Hollywood Baby":

So go pitch your fit, no one gives a shit Better off if you just get over it

Saw them live and it was even better hearing it in person.

If I had to pick my favorite 5 new albums of 2023, I'd probably round out the list with Mid Air by Romy, No Joy by Spanish Love Songs, Gigi's Recovery by The Murder Capital, and Honey by Samia.

↳ Favorite old album new to me in 2023 was probably Brave Faces Everyone (2020) by Spanish Love Songs, favorite song from the album might be, "Kick":

Just keep your head down and you'll be okay You're living up to what's expected

It is difficult to articulate how much I love this album. I have listened to it so many times since I first discovered it in September, listening to many of the songs nearly every day since then. Though if I was a broke, young Millennial, the lyrics might hit too hard.

If I had to pick my favorite 5 old albums new to me in 2023, I'd probably round out the list with 1,000 gecs (2019) by 100 gecs, Oncle Jazz (2019) by Men I Trust, Opus (2016) by Eric Prydz, and Computer World (1981) by Kraftwerk.

↳ Old favorite album I listened to for the first time in a long time this year was Hysteria (1987) by Def Leppard--and by long time I mean probably elementary school--song I listened to the most was the title track:

Can't stop this feelin' Can't stop this fire

Listening to this album transports me to another tim when I was living a different life in a different universe, younger than any of my kids are now.

Rereading:

Only reread chapters 11-13 of Kafka on the Shore this week. In another flashback, a truer story of the Rice Bowl Hill incident is revealed via a letter the school teacher writes 28 years later. Still doesn't explain everything. Back in the present, Kafka cleans himself up Sakura's then leaves. Oshima agrees helps him out by driving him out to his family's mountain cabin so he can lay low for a few days.

I happened to rewatch Interstellar this week, is everything about predestination? Still haven't reread In the Penal Colony but plan to this week.

[shewhohangsoutincemeteries]

to ashes, in memoriam

Clint Barton x F!Reader

To Ashes, Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Summary: the third anniversary of the snap thaws some of the tension between the two of you.

Warnings: hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1,570

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Days Since the Decimation: Three Years

Springtime in London might have been lovely, had it not been for the blanket of solemnity hanging over every square mile of the city. The third anniversary of the Decimation had been looming over you, over everyone, for weeks now. And now that it had arrived… you had spent much of the day locked away in your room, hoping to simply sleep through it.

Clint had stayed, and the two of you had returned to old routines, making your way west until you’d finally found yourselves on the outskirts of London. If possible, the two of you communicated even less than before, and you found yourself avoiding him just to make it easier to ignore the tension between you. The longer it went on, the more frustrated with your situation you became. Much of your time seemed now to be spent expelling the energy building inside you.

So, when Clint knocked on the door to the room you had claimed when you’d found yourselves an apartment on the outskirts of the city in a building too rundown for the city to relocate locals into, you were surprised. You sat up in the bed, pushing hair out of your eyes.

“Come in?”

“Hey,” he said gruffly, averting his eyes as if you were in some way indecent. It was almost normal to you now; you swore the only time you ever really felt his eyes on you was when yours were turned away. “Did I wake you?”

You shook your head; you’d been laying there for the last two hours, staring out the window at nothing but the sliver of sky you could see between the curtains. But that didn’t feel like something worth mentioning. “What’s up?”

“Get dressed. We’re going out.”

You frowned, pushing the blankets off of your legs. “You’ve got a target?”

“It’s not work,” he replied, his tone unchanging. “Civilian clothes.”

“…Okay.” you said, confusion furrowing your brow. “Okay, just, uh… Just give me five minutes.”

***

Hyde Park was crowded, throngs of people choking the pathways that led to the lake. Lingering in any one place with this many people made you feel exposed in a way that you’d come to loathe over the last three years, and you tugged the baseball cap you wore a little lower on your brow.

“What are we doing here?” you asked quietly.

Clint shrugged a shoulder as though his leading you out that evening had been no more than a whim. But despite his reluctance to talk, to even spend time with you outside of a hunt, this was where he’d brought you. “It’s a memorial.”

Daylight was beginning to ebb as you approached Serpentine Lake, and the lights that marked the edges of the path the two of you were following were starting to glow against the soft light of dusk. The crowds around you collected in smaller parties, and the atmosphere that hung like a mist around the park kept their tones hushed. Reverent. The result was an almost hypnotic hum, and you found yourself stepping closer to Clint’s side at the noise.

He didn’t move away.

You didn’t understand quite what he meant until you finally reached the Lake proper. And your breath hitched.

Countless lights bobbed along the surface of the lake, slowly moving in and out of view between the bodies lining the shore. Each light was carried by a delicate paper lantern, the underside waxed against the water. As you drew closer, you could just make out the lines marking the sides of the lanterns still in the hands of the people ahead of you; the names of those they had lost.

“Clint…”

He didn’t say anything; and you didn’t know how you were supposed to finish that sentence. Booths had been set up about thirty feet back from the shoreline, and you followed Clint wordlessly towards one of them. The table was carefully piled with paper lanterns and tealights, and after collecting two of each from a kind-faced woman, he led you to an unoccupied patch on the shore.

The sound of water shifting joined the soundscape around you, the scent of it at the edge of your mind. Clint knelt down on the grass, handing you one of the lanterns and a marker. You paused after taking them, running your fingertips over the dense paper before you joined him.

You wrote their names slowly, carefully, turning the lantern so the letters formed a morbid crown around its head.

Wanda… Sam… Bucky… Vision… Hill… Fury… Peter… T’Challa… Shuri…

You hesitated for a long moment before following their names with two more words.

I’m sorry.

***

The crowds grew so slowly and steadily around you that you barely noticed it before you stood and found yourself surrounded by bodies. Clint’s arm brushed against yours as he straightened too, the two of you holding your lanterns carefully before you. Your fingers tightened briefly on yours as though it would be ripped from your hands; wax slid under your nails.

Your eyes dropped to the near-identical lantern in Clint’s hands. His thumb stroked over the rigid paper almost idly, and you turned away again before your eyes could focus on the words that he had written on the side of it. Instead, you shouldered your way through the people crowding the shoreline until the toes of your boots were kissed by the soft ebb and flow of the water.

Once again you felt Clint’s presence by your shoulder, and you resisted the urge to lean back into the warmth of him. Instead, you turned to face him, swallowing as you took his lantern gingerly. You held them steady, your eyes meeting his in brief, flickering moments as he lit the candles within.

And the two of you set the lanterns down on the water, and you wrapped your arms around yourself as they ever so slowly bobbed out to join the others to reflect golden light on the mirror’s surface.

***

It wasn’t long, despite your best effort, before you lost sight of which lanterns were yours, eyes blurring with the pinpricks of light in front of you. Clint still stood by your side, and the more time stretched out before you the more the sounds of murmured conversation and the acoustic guitar someone played nearby fell away. It all fell away until all that anchored you to reality, to that spot you stood on, was the soft sound of Clint’s steady, calming breath.

The crowd moved around you in the same kind of slow ebb and flow as the water; the two of you standing sentinel on the edge of the lake. The sky darkened above you, and the lights on the lake warmed as the water turned to ink. Someone was speaking over a microphone, a grave voice intoning a eulogy to everyone that had been lost.

What you noticed of the speaker’s words soon turned to messages of hope and ‘togetherness in the face of adversity’, and Clint’s own voice broke you out of your revery.

“Hey,” he said softly, his hand touching the middle of your back. “Come with me.”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself as he led you away from the bulk of the crowd. You found yourself needing to fill the silence that hung between you, and you spoke quietly. “How did you hear about all this?”

“There was something on the news,” he replied, an almost forced casualness to his tone. “I thought… I thought this might be good for you.”

You raised a brow in touched disbelief at his concern, a small, snide smile blooming at the corner of your lips. “Just me, huh?”

You saw his own smirk flash over his features beneath his hood despite himself, but he didn’t reply.

“Thank you, Clint.”

He nodded; his eyes still turned ahead of you. A part of you wondered what if would take for him to meet your eye again. He’d shaved, for the first time in weeks, and you cursed yourself silently even as you considered briefly what it would be like to trace the line of his jaw with your fingertips.

A shoulder knocked into yours – a passerby unaware of either of your identities – and you stumbled slightly. It was only for a second, but it was enough to separate the two of you for a brief moment. And you looked down in surprise as Clint turned back towards you and caught hold of your hand with his own.

You watched his hand slip around to take yours, his fingers lacing with your own. His palm was warm and softer than you remembered. He tugged you back into step beside him gently, and something selfish in your chest flipped when he didn’t immediately let go.

***

Clint led you to the bridge that overlooked Serpentine Lake, tucking his hands into his pockets as you stood against the rails. He’d later, when he’d heard your breath shudder, wrapped an arm around your shoulders and tucked you in against his side. You hadn’t questioned the change in his demeanor – the anniversary had granted the two of you a brief reprieve in his staunch avoidance of you – you’d just let your head rest against his shoulder.

It was hours before you left that spot, long after the last mourners had gone, and after the very last candle had gone out.

.

.

.

tags:@trekkingaroundasgard@lovely-dreamer19@wittyforachange@wefracturedmotivation@january-echoes@glossyloner@capitalnineteen@youclickedthislink@s0ftness@castieltrash1@drakelover78@queenoftheunderdark@lol-you-thought@akumune@xxboesefrauxx@enna-core@hearmyharmony@katsies@youralphawolf72@maenji@rhymesmenagerie@gwianasky@melaclintbartoncorner@loki-is-loved@whovianayesha @bradfordbantams @alice-the-nerd@fanofallthefics@ace-fandom-dumbass@kaelyn-lobrutto24@twsssmlmaa@earth-pig-fish@meeksmusic83@hallothankmas@justanothermagicalsara@janineb86@darsynia@rhymesmenagerie @thatwelshbi @lauraashley93

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 76. brb x oc

a/n: I had an anxious day again but...im better! so i hope you guys like this chapter.

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: fluff, hELP

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24/

25/26/27/28/29/30/31/32/33/34/35/36/37/38/39/40/41/42/43/44

45/46/47/48/49/50/51/52/53/54/55/56/57/58/59/60/61/62/63/64

/65/66/67/68/69/70/71/72/73/74/75

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

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@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

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@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @dhwanishah09 @jesfreedark @katiemcrae @lilmonstrjedi @hobiismyhopeu @teacupsandtopgun @insominac23 @gh0stsgoodgirl

-

During Halloween week,Beatrice was busy…well,sort of, she had things to do but she was going to have fun doing them! Hence why she woke up so early and she’d love to leave the bed if Rooster let her, but her husband’s strong arms locked her in place, his lips pressing against her nape as he slept.

He said that he missed the sounds in their house and he slept so nicely when he was there. Bradley hummed in his sleep, nuzzling his face in the back of her neck as she smiled, almost regretting having to get off the bed because of how comfortable he was. So she allowed herself to stay put for a little longer.

She gently ran her fingers on the back of his hand feeling the lines of his tendons under the skin and the soft hairs that covered it. Rooster snores quietly behind her, his nose nestled between strands of brown that cover her neck, sometimes mumbling something under his breath that only made Beatrice’s smile widen.

God,how she loved this, how she loved him.

Him,Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw, her husband, her best friend - after Shells because the blonde would never allow competition - and the love of her life. When she was younger she dreamed of a guy like him, hell she wrote down what she wanted in her future partner and by God it was Rooster personified.

Okay it took her a few years to meet him, a few ‘yes’s’ throwing aside and a lot of ‘no’s’ being ignored. She kept brushing the back of his hand as she thought about it, it was absolutely crazy that they were still feeling like they were dating…hell she never felt like that with that one person she refused to name.

Her aunt Martha said something to her, when she was pregnant with Nicole and Rooster was away, that their souls were ‘always connected, no matter what time, no matter when, you were always meant to find one another.’ 

Weird yet endearing, just like anything her aunt said.

Beatrice sighs, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles then over the length of his finger, feeling his hold on her waist tighten and his face move behind her. He was slowly waking up but she didn’t move, she just allowed him to enjoy the morning.

Ever since he came back she tried to give Rooster more than enough time necessary to wake up, she wanted him to rest, she wanted him to feel safe while at home. His job was dangerous and hard and he needed to relax the second he got home.

A sharp inhale from him signaled he was finally waking up, this time for real, as he groaned sleepily while pressing his face against her back, “...mornin’.”

Oh she loved how deep his voice was when he woke up, “Good morning,sleepyhead.” she smiles, turning her head to look at him, “Did you sleep well?”

“Hmmmm…” he breathes in deeply, “Yes… have you…been awake long?”

“Not too long, I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“Hmm…” he hummed, closing his eyes briefly, “Nikki up?”

Beatrice checked the baby monitor, only to see Nicole was still peacefully asleep with Eleanor and Jack keeping her company, “Not yet.” she says, ‘It’s still early too,Roos. She’s going to take a little while to wake up.”

Her husband just sighed, pressing his front to her back tighter, nuzzling her neck and kissing the soft skin there, “Hmm…okay.” and his breathing got even again within seconds, his hold loosened just a bit but he hadn’t let go of Beatrice yet. Beatrice just chuckles softly, still brushing his hand, a bit surprised when she hears his voice again, “That’s nice.”

“What? Me touching your hand?”

“Mhm.”

Bea smiles, drawing random shapes on his hand, “Good to know,I’ll keep doing it then.” 

His deep chuckle sounded so much more attractive than normal when he was waking up that it sent shudders up and down her body, “You know I love when you touch me.” and she was blushing, hard, when he whispers those words against her ear, kissing below the lobe and making a trail on her jawline, ‘And you know I could let you touch me anytime that you want,gorgeous.”

She giggles quietly, turning around fully when he loosens his hold on her waist, combing some of her hair back to keep her eyes on him…and she just stared, because Rooster had a stubble. Usually he shaved his face, but these past days he wanted to enjoy his leave and decided that he could do that before he got back to work…and he looked so good. He blinked groggily at her, wiping his eyes with a hand, “What?” Beatrice’s pupils enlarged, “What? What’s the matter?”

“God, you are so attractive,Roos.” it comes out as a breathless confession, something her husband wasn’t expecting but also wasn’t complaining. That boyish, proud smile appeared on his face, the one that made her knees weak and her stomach flip with butterflies, “You look good no matter what.” she runs her hands over the dark blonde bristles on his jaw, almost nearing brown in color, biting her lower lip, “You could literally have a full on mountain man beard and you’d look amazing.”

“Maybe when I retire I can do that.” he smirks, leaning into her touch like a cat, humming deeply within his chest, “That’s nice too. Your hands are so soft.” he turns his face to her palm, holding it with his own hand to kiss the middle of it, three little kisses before he looks back up at her, “What’s the plan today,gorgeous?”

“Well,” she continues her caressing, “We are going to go to Marcus first, then we are going to buy some Halloween treats and then we need to get some fresh pumpkins. Just one though,I want the others to be fake ones.”

“Hmmm…alright.” he smiles, closing his eyes, “Whatever you want,gorgeous.”

Beatrice just adored how he was still partially asleep, how his face was flushed because of the warm covers and how mussed his hair was, “How about,” she whispers, slowly leaning closer, “I make us breakfast,” one kiss on his forehead, “Then I make coffee just how you like it,” another on his nose, “And I can even add some chocolate chips on your coffee.” one final kiss to his lips.

With their mouths still connected,Rooster arched his brows, eyes partially open, “Can you add the extra creamy ones?” his wife laughed against his mouth, but nodded, “Ooohh…you are going to make me fall in love with you all over again.”

They laughed quietly, with Beatrice squeaking in surprise when he pinned her onto the bed, rubbing his stubble against her neck, smiling when she sighed softly and arched against him, “I remember you saying I look good with a stubble.” 

“You look good no matter what,Roos.”

“Careful, we might never leave the bed if you continue.”

Beatrice smiles more, wrapping her arms around his neck, meeting his lips in a sweet peck before his forehead dropped against hers, noses touching, “Tempting.” she whispers, “But we have a lot to do…I’m going to check on Nikki and then I’ll prepare our breakfast-”

“I can check on her if you want.”

“Really?”

“Hmhm.” he nuzzles her neck, kissing the curve of her shoulder, “There’s a lot going on today and you don’t have to overwork yourself.” he whispers, kissing her lips one last time before pushing himself off the bed, “Atta girl.” she pushes herself upwards, partially turning her bottom to leave the bed only to hold back a scream as the warm and stingy feeling of his hand on her ass made her stop in her tracks.

“Rooster!” she whisper-yelled, glaring at her smirking husband who just leaned down to kiss the red handprint and tap the opposite cheek gently, winking down at Beatrice. She huffed with a gentle laugh, shaking her head as her husband disappeared behind the bathroom door, humming to himself.

Well, at least he was having a good morning.

He hears Beatrice leave the room, her voice muffled as she walks into Nicole’s nursery, greeting their baby and mentioning that ‘daddy was going to pick her up really soon.’. Then he hears the known sound of Jolene’s claws clicking on the floorboards, looking up from the sink as he washes his hands, “Morning Jojo.” the pitbull wags her tail, stepping into the bathroom so the pilot can scratch her head, “How about you and the twins join us on the pumpkin search, hm?” he smiles, scratching her behind the ear, “Maybe it’ll be something new…after all Nicole is going.”

Jolene just boofed softly, watching him with big honey colored eyes as if agreeing with him even if she couldn’t,obviously,speak back to him. Rooster dried his face with a towel, turned off the light and left the bedroom towards Nicole’s room where his daughter was already awake, chewing on a rubber elephant that Beatrice gave her before leaving the room, no doubt, “Hi honey.” he coos softly, making Nicole’s light eyes turn to him, “Hi,good morning pretty thing!”

Nicole gurgled a laugh with the rubber animals still between her gums, “Did you sleep well? Yes?” he leans over the crib’s railing and picks Nicole up, kissing her cheek soundly, “You are smelling so good, did mommy change you already? Did she?” Nicole babbled, fully alert without a trace of sleep in her body, “Yes I know, you look really happy to be awake.”

When he pulled Nicole back a bit, his daughter blinked at him, wide eyes and mouth closed before she reached his face with her hand, touching his stubble. He half expected Nicole to be scared or confused, or maybe think that the prickly feeling in her palms were too much and would snatch her hand away…but, their daughter was always full of surprises.

She didn’t cry, she didn’t whimper, she just touched his face with a bit more force - for a four months old baby - even squishing his cheek a little bit, almost as if she wanted to feel more of the strange sensation, gasping quietly with amazement, “Oh, you like it too,huh? So does mommy.” he smiles, kissing her tiny hand and adjusting his hold on her, “Maybe in the future I can let it grow a bit.”

He carries Nicole downstairs, Jolene right behind him trotting down the stairs as he hears Beatrice in the kitchen, talking to someone…this early? He slowly makes his way into the kitchen area, arching his brow when he sees Beatrice rubbing her forehead, “No,mamma, listen,” he arches his brows with a soft ‘ah.’ leaving his lips, “No,no, no we are okay. We are going to- no I know,I know…I know you know.” 

Rooster bites his lip to hold back the chuckle, smiling down at Nicole as he places her in her bouncer, shaking her tiny hands a bit and kissing her small knuckles like the princess she was, ‘Mommy will come by soon,ok?” he kisses the tip of her button nose, “You are so cute, yes you are.”

“Mamma, please,I know.” she drawls off the word, sounding absolutely exhausted, “No,Brad is coming with me…yeah. We’re taking Nikki- yes I know, sunscreen and such,I know. No we won’t be long.” she looks up at him when he gets closer, tilting her head to offer him her cheek and he wastes no time in pecking it,walking around her to grab his coffee mug - that smelled absolutely divine, “Yes. Yes. No, just one becau-because it’s better,mamma. I don’t want people to destroy it, you know how some jerks can be.”

Beatrice walks closer to Rooster who was now sipping his coffee-chocolate mixture with a grin, opening his arm to give her room to rest her head against his chest, “Hmhm…yes I know. I know- no we don’t need cake. No we-yeah we got it.”

“Some cake would be nice though.” he murmured, holding back a surprised yelp when Beatrice slapped his chest, narrowing her eyes at him, “What?”

“...no, that wasn’t Bradley.” she narrows her eyes at him even more, “Mamma there’s no need to- okay, fine, what cake is it again? Hazelnuts and chocolate…yes I know that’s his favorite,mamma.” Bradley just watched the conversation with a little smile, watching his wife finally giving in to her mother’s demands, “Yes,I love you too…bye.” and she drops her phone to the side, letting her forehead touch his pectoral.

“Long talk?”

“Do not start.” 

“What? I’m just asking.”

“You are literally the worst.” she says with a little smile, “But hey, at least we got free cake…for some reason. I keep thinking my mother believes we starve because every time she asks us if we have food.” he hums, kissing the top of her head, “Anyway, sorry, we were just chatting a bit about today’s plans.”

“Yeah?” 

Beatrice walks away from Rooster to greet Nicole, immediately smiling and picking the baby girl up from her bouncer, kissing her cheek, “Yeah,” she smiles, “It’s possible that Michael and Leo and Cyn are coming to the Hard Deck for the Halloween Party.” Rooster blinked in surprise, tilting his head, “Yep,my parents are taking Bibi and Éwoyn out for Halloween.” 

“Éwoyn is old enough to,already?”

“Well,she’s one years old,Roos.”

“Already?” he pauses, staring at nothing, “Holy shit.”

“I know right? Crazy.” Beatrice thanks him when he hands her own mug of latte after she sits down on the chair, preparing herself for Nicole’s breakfast, leaving the steaming coffee on the table as she feeds their daughter, “Doesn’t seem that time went by so fast, huh?”

It really didn’t and Rooster didn’t know how to feel.

Hell if that was just their niece…imagine Nicole? How quick was she going to grow? How soon would she turn one,nine,fifteen? Hell, twenty? He…didn’t like to think about it, not because he didn’t want his daughter to grow, but…he just wanted to see her be a little girl first and foremost, “Yeah.” he chuckles almost nervously, “Not at all.”

Bea gently brushed Nicole’s soft hair back with a soft smile, “You are thinking about it.” he blinks at her, “About Nicole and about time going too fast.”

Sometimes he could swear she could read minds.

“Yeah…aren’t you?”

She shrugs, looking down at Nicole, brushing her soft cheek, “Hard not to,Roos…it’s…something parents go through. Leo and Cyn are going through everyday…Bianca turned seven, you are aware of that too.”

Holy shit Bianca turned seven.

He met her when she was five. He needed to sit down, so he did. Rooster holds his head up by pressing his chin into his palm, looking right at Beatrice, “That’s fucking crazy.” she nods, amused by his reaction, “Holy shit, in four years she’ll be in middle school. Holy hell.”

“And Éwoyn will start preschool.”

“Fuck, that’s…insane.”

Beatrice smiles, looking down at Nicole who just was having the time of her life with her morning treat, “So…yeah,I do think about Nicole and how she’ll grow and how fast that will be. But I try to not worry about her so much, we just have to do a good job in showing her that she can and should enjoy her childhood the best she can.”

Rooster still hated the idea that his daughter was going to grow even more in just a few months and in a blink of an eye he’s at her college graduation or helping her go on road trips over the country. He sighed, drinking his chocolate coffee and licking his lips once he was done, “You are right…it’s just weird. I mean,look at Nikki.” he gestures to their daughter with his mug, “Look at how big she is already.”

“Well,she is a bit…tall for a four months old.”

“Soon enough she’ll reach my shoulder.” and he sounded almost disappointed by it, “...I don’t wanna miss it. I just want her to take a long time growing up.” and he frowns, shaking his head, “Anyway, enough sad talk about it…so, I was thinking about taking the dogs with us to the pumpkin patch.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, you know how they get when we go anywhere by car.” Eleanor and Jack had to be latched onto the seats so they’d stay in the passenger seat, while Jolene just lied next to Nicole for the car ride, “And I think it’d be nice.”

“Well,that’s fine.” she says, buttoning her night shirt once Nicole was done and grabbing her burp cloth to place on her shoulder as she gently caressed Nicole’s back, “I don’t see why not.”

“And maybe take some pictures there.” he continues, “It’ll be nice when…she’s older, she can reminisce about them.”

“That is fine by me,” Bea grins, looking back at her phone when it started buzzing nonstop, “Ugh, I hope it’s not my mom again, you already got yourself some cake.”

“That I did.” he smirks, bringing the mug to his lips, “I regret nothing.”

Beatrice reaches for the phone to check who it was, furrowing her brows once she saw the sender, “Evelyn.” she says, “She’s asking if I can see her later today.”

“Busy bee, ain’tcha?”

She laughs, “I think she just wants to talk, we weren’t able to sit down and chat for…a while, you know she’s been working a lot, barely comes to the bar anymore.”

“Oh yes, Jake has been vocal about it.” he mutters, sipping his coffee, humming with delight, “Kinda annoying.”

“You literally do the same thing when it comes to me,Roos.”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “But I’m not Jake.”

Beatrice rolls her eyes over her husband’s words, looking back down at the message with a slight frown. Evelyn sounded…intense, like she really wanted to talk, even asking if they could meet during morning time until Beatrice explained why she couldn’t go so early. With a quiet ‘hmmm’ making its way past her lips, all that Beatrice did was put the phone down and then look down at Nicole, “Well,I’m sure it’s nothing serious.” something in her said otherwise “We’ll see once I get there.”

“After everything..”

“Yeah,after everything.” Bea smiles, “Especially  after pumpkin shopping and treats shopping.” holding out her fingers as she says so, “And tomorrow! We’ll decorate the house! Finally!”

Of course she’d be happy with that, she loved Halloween. “Yep and I can finally help you with it.” he smirks down at Nicole before Beatrice sets her on her shoulder, “It’s going to be a fun week.”

[random-mailbox]

Random-Mailbox's Favorite Sailor Moon Fics - Week 37 - Psychometry

I missed manga-based psychometry for Mamoru in the Original Anime, so it makes me very happy that so many talented individuals have weaved it into their stories. Below are a few where it plays a bigger role in the outcomes, although quite a few others have made their way into the series already. Also a reminder that prompts for @usamamoweek2023 are up!

As always, my apologies in advance for spoiling some of these for you (Fic Titles are linked to either FFN or AO3 entries).

Manganatomy - @idesofnovember

When I think of Psychometry and AU stories, this is one that is most top of mind for me. Usagi gets stuck with an assignment of getting a medical professional to look over some josei manga spreads for work. Except the person she has to see is less than helpful. Cue accidental bumping into Dr Chiba, who might just feel why this is so important to her. 

My Own Little Stage: A Collection of Prompts - Chapter 5: I thought you knew - @tinacentury

Every time Mamoru touches Usagi’s heart-shaped ring he gets glimpses of her memories while he wasn’t around (with Galaxia’s help). With Usagi taking a bath, he had more time than usual to hold it, getting to see more than he bargained for. 

The Reveal: Chapter 8: Touch - @kasienda

Mamoru learned from a young age to not let anyone know about his ability to know things through touch, having gotten burnt on more than one occasion, leaving him in a dark place. Maybe there is hope for him after meeting a blonde girl and "seeing" things he never knew were possible.

The Space Between: Chapter 13: Heal - @uglygreenjacket

With Usagi bailing on their date last minute because she is "sick", Mamoru tries to cheer her up the only way he knows how - with flowers and soup.  I honestly wish everyone had a Mamoru around to help with cramps. 

Becoming - @floraone

This drabble collection walks us through all the events that made Anime-inspired Mamoru who he was, with an addition of psychometry - both the ability to feel through touch and ability to heal. 

Little Moments: Chapter 1: Helpless - @floraone

Having gotten hurt in battle and an ugly bruise preventing her from doing something as routine as putting up her hair, Usagi begrudgingly heads to Mamoru's for assistance. 

---

That's it for this week. Next week we have "What if" stories - idea was courtesy of @areptiledysfunction1107!

Here are the links to the previous Tumblr posts in these series to explore more amazing works based on different themes - make sure to check them out if you haven't had a chance! (Click on title name to go to the post) - I will keep updating the list every week as new posts come up:

Week 1 - Groundhog Day

Week 2 - Established Relationships

Week 3 - Sex Positivity

Week 4 - Unfinished Stories

Week 5 - Darker Stories

Week 6 - Potions 🧪

Week 7 - Reveals

Week 8 - 👻Halloween🎃

Week 9 - Wrong Perceptions

Week 10 - Non-Senshi AU

Week 11 - In-Progress Fics

Week 12 - Mutual Pining

Week 13 - Enemies to Lovers

Week 14 - Slow Burn

Week 15 - Christmas Part 1 - Ugly Christmas Sweaters and Santa!

Week 16 - Christmas Part 2

Week 17 - New Years

Week 18 - High School AU

Week 19 - Slice of Life

Week 20 - Coffee shop AU

Week 21 - Huddle for Warmth

Week 22 - Friends to Lovers

Week 23 - ❤️Valentines Day❤️

Week 24 - Do a Grouch a Favour Day (or Cheer Up Fics)

Week 25 - Soulmate AU

Week 26 - Amnesia Fics (and resources)

Week 27 - 🍀St Patrick's Day🍀

Week 28 - Fix it Fics

Week 29 - Prompt: Mug

Week 30 - Flowers

Week 31 - Traditions

Week 32 - Dreams

Week 33 - Friends

Week 34 - Body-Swap

Week 35 - Medical Assistance

Week 36 - Sex Pollen

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Christmas Reruns 2024–Day 20: The Christmas Wish

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t!  One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia.  A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns.  So here you go!  Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Word Count: 1849

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

CS Genre: 5x21 Canon Divergence

A/N: Merry Christmas to @Captain-EmmaJones!  I was your Secret Santa this year!  I’m much more experienced writing fluff than angst, but you told me you liked to suffer...but be happy with it, so here you go.  Mild trigger warning: this story deals with a character grieving the death of a loved one, but don’t worry.  In any story of mine, a happy ending is guaranteed.

These last three months had been the worst, the hardest and the most painful of Emma’s life.  No contest.  She wouldn’t wish this pain on her worst enemy, not even on the worst villain they’d ever faced.

Three months ago today she’d left Killian in the Underworld after promising to go on with her life, after promising not to put her armor back on.

In the first few days, her time had been occupied with the battle against Hades.   Like with every villain they’d faced, it had taken a team effort, all of them, all of the Nevengers, as Henry liked to call them, working together to find a solution with the least collateral damage they could manage, but they’d succeeded in the end.  What was even more amazing was the fact that they’d definitively defeated Hades without losing any of the heroes (although Robin Hood had only narrowly ducked out of the way before being hit by the Olympian Crystal.)

The town had held a huge victory celebration in Granny’s after Hades’ defeat, and Emma supposed she should feel some sort of satisfaction at their victory, but all she felt was...empty.

Without Killian, it was hard to force herself to even get out of bed in the morning.  Turns out losing your true love felt a lot like having your heart pulled from your chest, only the pain never went away, never stopped, never seemed to lessen.

She tried her best for Henry’s sake, for her parents, who were clearly worried about her, for the promise she’d made Killian, but it felt like she was constantly alternating between aching sobs and white hot anger.  She tried to comfort herself with the thought that Killian had, no doubt, moved on, and that she’d join him one day when her time came, but it was cold comfort when she had to climb into her empty bed every night.

Everything reminded Emma of Killian. Everything.  Maybe one day the memories would be a comfort to her, but for now, they were like a dagger to her heart.

Emma had started going to see Dr. Hopper once a week, trying to work through her grief.  He told her she was doing well, that she was grieving in a healthy way, but if this was what healthy grieving felt like, she couldn’t imagine the dysfunctional kind.

Emma took a sip of her cocoa and looked up at the beautiful Christmas tree in the front room of the home Killian and Henry had picked out for her.  Her parents, Regina, Robin, Zelena and Henry had shown up at her doorstep this morning with the tree, all the decorations, and everything they needed to make enough Christmas cookies to feed the town.  They’d insisted on bringing her Christmas cheer and brightening up her life with the sights and smells and tastes of the season.

“I know this holiday will be hard for you, honey,” Snow said, giving her a big hug after they’d finished and everyone but her parents had left.  “I remember those first few holidays after my mom and then my dad passed.  The joy and excitement of everyone around me felt like a slap in the face.”

“How did you bear it, Mom?” Emma asked through her tears, which had started falling yet again. “I’m trying to be strong, I’m trying to go on with my life, but it feels like a part of me--a vital part--is just….gone, and I don’t even know how to function.”

Snow caressed Emma's cheek.  “You let yourself feel what you’re feeling, and you give yourself time.  You lean on your family and let us help you.  I don’t want you to ever feel like you need to stay strong for your father and me.  If you need to cry, cry.  If you need to break down, break down.  We’ll be here to hold you, to give you whatever you need.”

She had finally broken down then, sobbing for what felt like hours in her parents’ arms, but when her emotions were spent, she had to admit she felt a little better.  It had been cathartic.

“Thanks,” Emma said, finally.  “For the tree and the cookies and everything.  It really is beautiful.”

David pulled her toward him, hugging her to him and holding the back of her head. “I’m glad you like it.  Enjoy it if you can, treasure the good memories.”

But after her parents left, it didn’t take long before the pain returned.  She’d been looking so forward to the first Christmas she and Killian would spend together as a couple.  She’d looked forward to all the firsts they’d have, looked forward to introducing him to all this realm’s traditions.  She’d looked forward to making Christmas memories and traditions of their own.

But that, all of that, had been stolen from her, from them. 

Emma looked up at the top of the tree, at the bright, shining star.  Her mom had told her that in the Enchanted Forest, they’d had a tradition of making a Christmas wish upon the star on top of the tree.  It was said that if your heart was true, your Christmas wish would be granted.

What the hell; couldn’t hurt.

“I wish--” she began, having to stop and clear her throat, will away the tears that threatened to overwhelm her again.  “I only have one wish.  I wish he was back here with me.”

She waited, but nothing happened.  She hadn’t expected it to, but somehow it still felt like a betrayal.

Emma turned from the tree, threw on her coat and nearly sprinted out the door. Suddenly her house felt stifling, the tree, the decorations, all of it was too much. She had to get out of here; had to be with him, even if “being with him” now consisted of standing before his headstone.

It was a beautiful evening, the wind calm, the snow glistening in the last rays of the sun.  He would have liked it; he’d always had a fondness for snow, though she told him she thought he was crazy for it.  She smiled through her tears as she rounded the corner and then stepped through the arches into the cemetery.  She remembered the day he’d coaxed her out in the snow with him.  She’d been miserable.  It. Was. So. Cold!  But he’d been as excited as a child, and somehow his joy had been infectious.

It had always been that way with him.  He brought her comfort and joy whenever she was with him, had since the very beginning, if she was truly honest with herself.  That’s why she’d been so cold and distant to him at first.  It scared her how much he made her feel.

She stooped down before his grave, laying a flask beside the flowers her mom had no doubt left.  “Hey, I thought you’d like this more than roses.  Thanks for the pages.  Hades...Hades he’s gone now.  It’s done, so I hope you’re in a better place.  I know I should be happy about that, but it just feels like now you’re really gone, and there’s nothing left to do but just--”

The sobs threatened to overcome her again, but with a force of will, she pushed them aside.

“I miss you.”

For long moments she remained there, looking down at the stark letters of his name etched on the headstone.  She should have something else engraved, shouldn’t she?  She should say something about what a true hero he was.  Somehow, nothing seemed appropriate.  How did you sum up how much someone meant to you, to everyone he met, in a few short words?

The twilight was quickly fading into night before Emma decided there was nothing for it but to go home.  She’d no more than turned away from the headstone, when a sudden whoosh, a rush of energy passed over her.

What the hell was that?

“Swan?”

Her heart stopped and then began pounding.  It couldn’t be….could it?

She whirled around, not daring to hope, not daring to believe, but when she was once again facing the grave the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen met her.

Killian!

She raced to him, leaped into his arms, her lips connecting to his in a desperate kiss.  Oh gods, if she was dreaming she never wanted to wake!  She’d missed him so much--the feel of his scruff against her face, the soft, silkiness of his hair through her fingers, his taste, his smell.  Him.

She pulled away, resting her forehead against his as the tears--happy tears this time--streamed from her eyes.

“How are you here?” she asked through her emotions, before surging forward, kissing his cheek, his mouth, any part of him she could reach.

He laughed joyfully.  “It was you, love, your wish,” he said in between kisses.  “For some time, Zeus has been looking for a way to reward us--all of us--for our part in defeating Hades, but until today his hands were tied.  King of Olympus though he be, there are immutable rules surrounding the Underworld.”

“Wait…what?” She asked, before diving in for more kisses.  “Nevermind.  I don’t care how you’re here, I’m just glad you’re back.”

They remained standing before his empty grave, one kiss leading into another as night settled in around them and the snow began to fall.

“I am, Emma,” he said finally.  “I’m back, and I’ll never leave you again.  Never.”

She laughed, cupping his cheeks and bringing him down for yet another kiss.  “I’m going to hold you to that.”

Emma took his hand, leading him back to her home--his home too, she hoped--her heart feeling so full it might burst, as he exclaimed in wonder over the Christmas tree whose lights twinkled merrily in greeting.

“I have so much to tell you; so much to show you,” she said, laughing in pure, incandescent joy, as they sat together on the couch before the tree, holding each other close.  “Killian, you’re going to love Christmas!”

He smiled down at her, before leaning down and taking her lips yet again in a long, slow, achingly deep kiss.  “I’ve no doubt I will, Swan, but for the moment I have more pressing matters on my mind.”

“Yeah?” she asked.  “Like what?”

His grin turned mischievous.  “Like moving our reunion to your bedchamber where I can properly--or rather, not-at-all-properly--show you just how much I missed you and precisely how glad I am to be home.”

She laughed, taking his hand and leading him up the stairs.

Her Christmas wish had given them a second chance, and she was determined that she wouldn’t waste a second of it.

NEXT CHAPTER->

[blue-lock-rocky]

SPOILER: A Tentative Timeline for Blue Lock (1.1)

Bringing this back because I'm a nerd.

Still haven't had the time to reread the manga, but I did find a new source that confirmed a date that I was speculating.

This timeline is NOT spoiler-free.

Please proceed with caution.

July 2, 2018: 2018 FIFA World Cup Belgium v. Japan. The opening line makes a direct reference to the match. (Ch 1)

Japan's loss led to Anri proposing the Blue Lock Project. (Ch 1)

The U-20 World Cup is a bi-annual event. Following the 2018 World Cup, the U-20 World Cup was scheduled to take place in 2019 & 2021 but the latter event was cancelled due to the Covid-19 pandemic.

Assuming we're not getting a Covid arc, our U-20 World Cup has to be the one held in 2019.

Nov 18, 2018: Saitama Prefectural Finals, in the evening Isagi receives an invitation to join a special training program. (Ch 1)

Nov 20, 2018: Move-in Day, a Tuesday. Ego says it’s six months from the U-20 World Cup. (Ch 2)

Ego's line gives us two possible dates: Nov 20 & Nov 27. They're both about six months away from the U-20 World Cup (May 23, 2019).

In the English scanlation, Kira thanks Isagi "for the match the other day". The Chinese scanlation on Bilibili has a similar take as Kira says "前几天的比赛辛苦了", suggesting that little time has passed between their match and the start of the Blue Lock Project. Nov 20 sounds like the better option.

Nov 20 is confirmed as the date of the move-in day. (Twitter)

Nov 23, 2018: The First Selection begins, Isagi says it’s been three days since the last chapter

Dec 30, 2018 – Jan 14, 2019: Nationals, irrelevant to the story.

Jan 28, 2019: Blue Lock v. U-20 (Ch 112-149)

Jan 29, 2019: The day after the U-20 match, start of their two-week break. (Ch 150)

Feb 12, 2019: First day back from break, Ego says they have 100 days til the U-20 World Cup. (Ch 153)

May 23 - Jun 15, 2019: The 2019 U-20 World Cup

June 30, 2019: Oliver Aiku turns 20 :D

P. S. Ch 3 of Episode Nagi makes a reference to Squid Game which came out in 2021, but I'm pretty sure that's just the English scanlation having a bit of fun. Neither the Chinese nor the French scanlations mention Squid Game.

The only thing that doesn’t agree with this timeline is Sae’s birthday, which is on the tenth of October. We know for a fact that he’s 17 in Ch 4 and 18 in Ch 94, so he must have turned 18 sometime during the Blue Lock project.

Or maybe we're working with a non-linear timeline. In that case, I-- 🤡