#the one where his father was Dying and even though there were plenty of other people who could command the ship He Needed To Do It

[beam-meup-scotty]

spock , roughly two seconds before doing something so unhinged no one else has even thought of it : good thing i’m a vulcan and i would never do something irrational or illogical lmaoo

[raineandsky]

#20

The prince decided pretty fast that he despises his father’s taste. The man had been insistent that his son take a protector with him on his journey to the next kingdom over, and assigned the most over the top knight in his guard to do it.

The prince’s first meeting with that knight was four years ago. Now they’re both stuck in a wasteland, wandering aimlessly between ruined cities in the hopes of scavenging some scraps to live off. It’s not the future he’d dreamed of when he imagined his place as a king, but it’s the future he’s stuck with for the foreseeable.

“Night will be falling soon, my liege,” the knight pipes up brightly, and the prince tips his head to give the other man an incredulous grimace. The knight doesn’t even react, well used to the prince’s cold attitude, and presses on regardless. “It would do us good to find shelter soon.”

“Where was that barn we were in the other night? The one with the little hole in the door?”

The knight momentarily glances out over the world they’re walking through. The environment is flattened, with only beige ghosts of the greenery remaining. The place is admittedly a little depressing. “We’re walking away from it, my liege.”

Directions have never been the prince’s strong suit. “We’ll find something this way, then.”

The knight nods shortly, and the prince knows he’s having to hold his tongue to not tease him for his lack of knowledge. Back in the day he’d have asked his father to have the man executed for his insolence, but times have changed. This knight has avidly defended his life on more than one occasion, especially when the world originally ended, and the prince isn’t stupid enough to truly want him gone just yet. It’s just annoying that he has to put up with him for guaranteed survival.

“Why’ve you stuck around?” the prince asks suddenly, and the knight’s brow creases into a confused frown. “You’ve not really been on duty for the past four years.”

“It’s what your father requested of me,” he says almost immediately, the words falling out in a perfectly rehearsed line. It makes sense; it’s what he always says when the prince probes him for a truthful answer.

“I’m pretty sure my father has been dead for four years,” he retorts, and he doesn’t miss the flash of apprehension across the other’s face at his bluntness. “You don’t serve him anymore.”

“And who was the next in line?” The knight gives him a smile, slightly subdued with uncertainty. “I am still serving a king.”

An involuntary laugh bubbles out of the prince. “I don’t think a monarchy has existed since my father fell. I’m about average as you nowadays.”

“I wouldn’t call myself average, my liege. I was the top of my class in training.”

“I know. It’s why you got lumbered with me instead of entering the End War and dying in a blaze of glory.”

The knight grins more freely. “Thank the goddesses for that, huh?”

It’s the prince’s turn to wear a confused frown. “Wouldn’t you rather be–”

“A town!” The knight’s cry cuts straight across him, and he adds it to the tally of things he’d have gotten him seized for back in the good old days. “Down there!”

Sure enough, there’s a small cluster of houses over the brow of the hill they’re standing on. Most of the buildings look intact, with hopefully fewer holes in the roof than last night’s find. 

“Good timing,” the prince comments, glancing into the sky and immediately regretting it as his eyes lock with the setting sun. “Please go and check for murderers, dearest knight.”

“Anything for you, my liege,” the knight replies with a playful smile, before turning to continue down the hill alone. The prince watches him go, double checking his surroundings that no bandits want to take advantage of his loneliness.

He knows he’ll never be king like he always dreamed of. He’d be a king of a broken kingdom anyway, only there to rule over ruins and the dead. Four years has been plenty of time to figure out living as a commoner, though he can’t say he doesn’t miss the ease of being a prince. He supposes he was lucky, travelling through the quietest parts of the countryside when his father’s kingdom enacted war with everyone else.

The knight calls back up the hill, his voice drifting incoherently up to the prince, and he starts on his way down to join his protector at the bottom. He even has a knight unwaveringly loyal to a shattered kingdom to look out for him. He still hasn’t figured out why. The knight has always stayed on his side, well into the end of the world, and he tells himself that he will find out the man’s motive for sticking around one way or another. It’s not like there’s anyone else to ask.

[outofangband]

what we know of Aerin in The Narn (plus my thoughts and opinions on some of them)

Aerin is an extremely compelling and tragic figure in The Children of Húrin, even despite her brief appearance. There is not much we actually know about her from the text so I thought I'd go through the times she was mentioned and discuss the canon facts and then share my opinions on some of them, where speculation might be warranted

This is in part just a reference for my recent headcanon posts and fic but I also just really love Aerin so much

Note: I go into her story in the Book of Lost Tales version here!

mentions of canonical abuse and violence

Aerin is mentioned in two chapters and appears only in one of them. She's first mentioned in chapter four, The Departure of Túrin

In this chapter we get this information:

She is Húrin's kinswoman though the exact nature of their kinship is unclear. She is forcibly wedded to Brodda, one of the incomers, who seizes both land and property in Hithlum (I talked about the textual information about this and the implications here) She aids Morwen in secret, bringing her food and it is in part because of her aid that Morwen does not die of starvation

It is worth noting that the exact phrasing of "by force" with regards to Brodda is not in The Silmarillion. Though the context makes it pretty obvious that it was unwilling, it's still an interesting addition/deletion.

The rest of what we have of her comes much later, in the chapter “The Return of Túrin to Dor-lómin”

We learn first that "some of the kindlier manners of old were still kept by Aerin" and Sador, now her servant, grants Túrin shelter. On this same page we learn from Sador that it is Aerin who feeds and shelters many who would otherwise have been thrown out. He tells Túrin again of Aerin's aid to Morwen and how she saved her from starving.  This time we learn to that Brodda, the man Aerin was forcibly wed to, did indeed find out and beat Aerin for it. Indeed, the mentions of Morwen in front of Brodda seem to frighten Aerin even more and she at first denies knowing anything. Whether she is attempting to mitigate any harm she might endure for what she had done to aid Morwen or if Brodda required her to deny anything is unknown. (I have plenty of posts speculating about this so I’ll leave it here for now. There’s some in my post Nírnaeth headcanon collections and fic and will be more in the next ones. Anyways)

“She knew all the counsel of your mother,” Sador tells Túrin of Aerin

When Túrin comes to the halls, Aerin is sitting beside Brodda at the feast. She is noted to go pale, seemingly at both his arrival and what it will mean, as well as for Brodda's anger which is raised at once.

When Túrin asks her of Morwen and what she can say of it, she says "nothing, in great fear for Brodda watched her narrowly."

When Túrin seizes Brodda and puts a sword to his throat, him and Aerin have this interaction

"Am I not Túrin, lord of  Dor-lómin? Shall I command you?" When he does, Aerin answers his questions of Morwen, saying she was persecuted by Brodda and co and had fled to Doriath about a year before.

We see little of her during the killing of Brodda and the initial outbreak of fighting. She next responds to Sador's dying words, urging  Túrin to leave "He speaks with the truth of death. You have learned what you would. Now go swiftly! But go first to Morwen and comfort her or I will hold all the wrack you have wrought here hard to forgive. For ill though my life was, you have death to me with your violence. The Incomers will avenge this night on all that were here. Rash are your deeds, son of Húrin as if you were still but the child that I knew."

Túrin responds to her, calling her faint of heart and saying that she too has not changed from when he called her aunt as a child and when she was frightened of dogs. (one of the very few facts we learn of her time in Hithlum before the Fifth Battle. The other one being that her father was named Indor. This is the only mention of him throughout the text. Though the name was originally used for the father of Húrin and Huor this was later abandoned and in the final version, Galdor was their father) There’s no canon evidence for this but for some reason I always read him reminding Aerin of HER being afraid of dogs as him misremembering in the way kids often do where they’re scared of something and project that fear onto adults. I can’t really explain why. But regardless these are some of the only sparse details shared about her.

Aerin urges him once more to flee. She tells him that all who were there that night will suffer for what he has done.

Túrin at last heeds her advice and leaves with a few men of Hithlum. The last we hear of Aerin is the speculation that it was her who set fire to the halls. Asgon says, "many a many of arms misreads patience and quiet. She did much good among us at much cost. Her heart was not faint and patience will break the last."

We do not know if she died in the fire. She seemed to think her death was inevitable no matter what she did. When she speaks of it to Túrin, she seems more resigned than frightened.

Her appearance is bleak and upsetting but also fascinating. Aerin is in some ways just as defiant and stubborn as Húrin is and she endures abuse for just as long. She is defiant to the end like her kinsman, maintaining whatever she can of her culture and defying Brodda to help Morwen and others, even when she faced violence for it.

(Also, Húrin watching this scene… theworldisquietheretooquiet were talking about this. )

I've talked a lot before this interaction between Aerin and Túrin namely here and  here but with more scattered throughout the tag so I won't go into it too much here but it's certainly a poor moment of Túrin's to treat Aerin such, even after learning of her courage and suffering in helping Morwen as well as others of his people. It's obviously not Túrin's fault he hasn't been able to be in Hithlum leading and aiding his people but Aerin has been there (again, not by choice) and has been taking on this role.

It's worth noting that while the Narn does not actually say if Morwen and Aerin were close before the Nirnaeth, BoLT actually does say that Aerin loved Morwen and although that version is not canon, it's part of a passage and section that makes it through to the final version otherwise largely unchanged.

I personally think that she and Morwen were close. Again,  I've made several posts about it before but Aerin tells Túrin in her last words to him that if he does not go to Morwen to comfort her, she will not forgive him for what he has done in Hithlum. It is also the only offer that he makes her, to bring her to Morwen.

“But go first to Morwen and comfort her or I will hold all the wrack you have wrought here hard to forgive. For ill though my life was, you have brought death to me with your violence.” 

We do not know much for certain about Aerin’s personality! While we can certainly infer that she is loyal and brave and kind by her actions and what Sador’s words about her, we only really see Aerin when she’s a captive and when she’s terrified and directly under threat. We do not ever get to see her free to speak or act as she wishes and I am saddened by that. It’s one reason of many I’ve done so much trying to develop her character pre Nírnaeth as well as after! I hope I do her justice

I love her very much. Always feel free to ask more!

[flybynightwing]

What's funny is how this makes me think of parents shittier than Bruce. It's almost like starting with Marv Wolfman giving us Trigon, Deathstroke, and Myand'r, writers insisted? Chuck Dixon gave us David Cain, someone who literally made me want to reach into the panel and strangle him. Tom King had that whole thing with two sisters at war, and as a bonus, they're related to Kate. That's bats for you.

Comics of the 80s-2000s are obsessed with terrible parents! In the Bat books alone, just off the top of my head, you've got Harvey Dent's parents, the retcon to make Barbara's biological dad an alcoholic, Steph's dad, Helena's whole deal, the retcon to make Catwoman into Falcone's daughter, David Cain (created by Kelley Puckett and Damion Scott, btw), Ra's al Ghul, SHONDRA KINSOLVING DEAR LORD.

(There were of course plenty of bad parents outside of Bat books—this is the era where Wally's relationship with his dad was changed to be much more complicated, for instance.)

It's funny, because I think Wolfman and Perez, at least, understood what they were doing with Bruce. Like, you read through New Teen Titans, you look at all of Dick's interactions with Bruce, and that's not just an abusive father, that's an abusive father written by people who have put some real thought into the exact kind of abusive he is. In NTT, when Bruce hits Dick, it's not out of nowhere, and it doesn't go nowhere. The argument in New Titans #55 is heavily tied into Dick and Bruce's specific history, and after Bruce hits Dick, he immediately starts gaslighting him about a real conversation that we've seen them have previously. In subsequent issues, Dick talks to a therapist about the incident, and it lays the groundwork for the response he's going to have in Batman: Year Three and A Lonely Place of Dying. Like, the one line from Batman: Year Three:

"I feel like the child of an alcoholic—you know the problem isn't yours, but it is."

That's not a line written by someone who thinks that Dick and Bruce's relationship is healthy!

We all love to talk about how the Titans all hate each other's parents, and I think for Wolfman and Perez, that's very much the point of the team. These are young adults who have all been very let down by their parents in one way or another, and so they find each other and become each other's family. So yes, Trigon and Deathstroke and Myand'r and Bruce are all different kinds of bad, but they're all part of the same conversation.

But then you move out of the Titans era and into the solo Nightwing era, and it's the 90s and comics are just getting generally grimmer, and Batman is being written as increasingly violent and isolationist. And all of the behaviors he had under Wolfman and Perez are still there, and sometimes even worse, but he's being written by people who I don't think actually understand that he's abusive. Like, in this post, I don't think either Ed Brubaker or Chuck Dixon noticed or intended that parallel.

As for O'Neil, I honestly think he just leaned towards reconciliation generally, and towards a much less abusive characterization of Bruce specifically, and I guess introducing EXTREMELY TERRIBLE fathers in Nightwing Vol 1 was his way of squaring that circle. I'm thinking about "Snowbirds Don't Fly," and how O'Neil wanted that story to end with Roy and Ollie reconciling—even though there was absolutely no reason they should've! It feels like a similar impulse was at play in his Nightwing mini.

[hrodvitnon]

Assorted Abraxasverse Headcanons

- Ladon probably did not get along with Shin or Leo initially. Both because it’s really difficult for him to trust now given his circumstances but also becausd of their fundamentally different viewpoints and philosophies - Ladon doesnt like humans at all but tolerates them because Mom and Dad do (he gets better about this over time, but not all of that resentment goes away), Shin wants nothing to do with humans and would rather them stay far away, and Leo is the classical Shonen Hero who believes the best in everyone. So naturally, conflict will arise at some point.

Shockingly though, Leo was always the mediator and kept his brothers from going too far, and eventually after plenty of scuffles (and the ouccasional scolding), thry mostly chill out. Ladon is still a ball of surpressed rage though.

- Mothra is the only being outside of Ladon (and eventually Leo) Megalon respects - both because of them being Gods but also because even though they embody two opposite concepts - War and Life - they both love sharing their views and philosophies in spirited debate whenever they meet, with Mothra finding it a bit sad that Megalon still thinks so little of surface dwellers. That, and Megalon is deeply pleased by her hidden bloodlust. 

- You’d think Manda is entirely cool and calm just based on being raised by Abraxas and the way he carries himself most of the time would sell it, but it must also be kept in mind that his father is Rodan. So Manda is just as prone to coming up with stupid or reckless stunts as his dad or being somewhat of an airhead. Keeta is better than their brother, but that’s because he’s the type who prefers to come along and watch rather than directly participate. Biollante!Maddie actually finds Manda at his goofiest endearing, which only reinforces his Rodanisms.

- King Caesar exists somewhere, with his usual backstory of being the ancient protector deity of the royal family of Okinawa. Thing is, nobody but the descendants of that line know where he is and it’s unknown if the Mass Awakening changed that. People have reported a strange dog-shaped Titan appearing to take down hostile monsters then vanishing as quickly as it came, but nothing concrete has come up. Monarch suspects there’s some unknown channel in the Hollow Earth he’s using to move between place to place extremely quickly.

- No one knows what the fuck Hedorah is. All that the Fleet knows is that it used to show up and feast on the dying remnants of civilizations Ghidorah had ravaged, making them suspect it’s some manner of parasitic scavenger. 

- Gigan Rex and the Gigan Miles from GvGR were possibly either an unrelated group of planet conquerors that were suspiciously similar to Gigan himself or they were other models of Gigan that had somehow survived, just without becoming the sort of horrific techno-flesh deity and cult that Gigan and his Fleet have become.

- Speaking of Gigan, due to the nature of him in the Abraxasverse, Gigan is probably very much nothing like what he was originally designed as. The assimilated tech from countless worlds is offered to him and made one with his own body as he deems fit so to some degree or another, Gigan is essentially the depraved bastard caricature of a million dead worlds, and he relishes in it.

- Following his ‘birth’/'rebirth’, Assimilation!Mechagodzilla basically becomes Abraxas’ little brother essentially - and swiftly reminds both Vivienne and San that little brothers can be a pain in the ass. The 'Abraxas Siblings’ are often found trying to beat the shit out of each other just as often as they are sitting down and chilling.

- Assimilation!Mechagodzilla acts pretty much exactly like a bratty teenage boy or a college frat bro due to the lack of inihbitions from both the San half and Ren half within so it essentially falls to Abraxas to wrangle him whenever he goes too far. He mostly limits it to 'pranks’ or such, but he gets astronomically bored very quickly and might just kick over a building if not stimulated enough. He gets along very well with the other kids such as Leo, Shin, or Ladon - which ends up causing problems since both him and Leo will eagerly goad them into stupid shit or all kinds of shenanigans. Manda and Keeta swiftly become the only sane ones.

It gets worse after he molts too - Desghidorah takes and multiplies Mechagodzilla’s childish and impulsive behaviors by three. 

- The Super Complete Works and novelization also say that Desghidorah is some weird amorphous magma blob thing that simply copied Ghidorah’s appearance and might outright be the embodiment of the universe’s tendency to trend towards entropy. As such, it cannot die but is the embodiment of death and destruction themselves.

Going by this, I think it would very rapidly become apparent that Abraxas!Desghidorah is fucking weird to anyone with a spiritual sense such as Gods like Megalon or Mothra - having the presence of a divinity despite being a Ghidorah offshoot and never once displaying any indications of assimilating that power from elsewhere. Neither one knows what the fuck is up with Desghidorah and it raises serious questions about Ghidorah’s actual nature. 

A villainous Desghidorah would essentially be an unkillable nightmare  barring being sealed like he was in the Rebirth of Mothra films and they’d always risk breaking out to become a threat again in the future so that would be a looming issue they’d need to deal with, even ignoring their sheer power potentially putting several Titsns out of commission. And Assimilation!Desghidorah would probably use their nature as an eternal shapeshifting magma monster to troll people.

---

Lordy, what a smorgasbord! I do like Manda inheriting Rodan’s goofiness; he grows into a regal and elegant dragon who is caring of humans, yet he has his moments where he becomes a bit of a dumbass that makes him more relatable and approachable.

[le-amewzing]

Ripples

Mermay bit me three times over this year with ideas, so have another AU for Parknight~ ;D

Fic: "Ripples" [FFN] [AO3]

Pairings/Characters: eventual Alden Parker/Jess Knight, Parker's sister & parents, Timothy McGee, Nick Torres, & Jimmy Palmer, with cameos from Leon Vance, Billy Doyle, Joy Aaronson (as Joy Sullivan), Vivian Kolchak, & assorted OCs, & mentions of episodic minor charries

Rating: light T

Words: ~17,080

Additional info: romance, drama, friendship, family, 3rd person POV

Summary: Parker was saved once upon a time from the water by something…or someone…he later chose to believe didn't really exist. Decades later, casework takes him from the FBI to NCIS and he meets Jessica Knight—but not, he swears, for the first time.

      He had been fond of birds since childhood. Those feathered, winged creatures—they were beautiful, but (more importantly) they had the freedom to go where they pleased. Alden always envied them that.

      But he'd never once considered the world of that which inhabited the deep.

      Alden had new time to consider it when his father, Roman, received an assignment in the Pacific in the middle of 1972. Alden and his older sister, Lauren, overheard just one heated argument between their parents in the kitchen that summer before the packing began. Their older brother was lucky; Norman was a sophomore at college and didn't have to deal with any of this global travel anymore.

      There had been other moves, most of which Alden had been too young to recall, but family photo albums showed a history of bustling cities not all that unlike Chicago. This time was different, though. This time, they would be in a country surrounded by water, in a city kissing the sea.

      The joint naval base in Kanagawa was as sprawling as the rest—according to his parents and Lauren. "It's different from Chicago, but you'll get used to it," his sister insisted, and then she thrust a dictionary into his hand, because they would be going to school with other Navy brats and taking classes in English as was the norm, but she was always thinking two steps ahead, thinking that this assignment could keep them here for longer than imagined, so they might as well acclimate.

      But this change of scenery was a little too much for him. They had four seasons here same as they had four seasons back home, but fall, winter, spring, and even summer when it came around once more couldn't convince Alden to call this new place his home, least of all when the next call or letter their father received could upend them all over again.

      As a year snuck up on them in Japan, Lauren asked their mother if she and Alden could do some exploring on their own. "It's finally summer break, but we're moved in now and don't have anything else to worry about." She raised her fair eyebrows, and Alden glanced between them in the living room.

      Before she could answer, Roman—on a rare day home—set aside his newspaper and cocked his head at his wife. "Laurie's seventeen now, Marion, and Al's twelve, more than halfway to a man. It's safe to walk these parts, especially together. You've seen how the Japanese send their toddlers out on milk runs, right? The kids'll be plenty safe out on their own around here."

      The last bit must've been convincing, because Marion's frown morphed into a timid smile. Her hazel eyes darted from her daughter to her son and back, and she passed Lauren her coin purse. "…fine. But it's still towards the end of the day, and I'll be starting dinner soon, so don't stay out late, all right?"

      Lauren grinned from ear to ear, and even Alden perked up. Neither of them made it out without a hug and kiss from their mother first, but then Lauren grabbed her purse and they headed outside.

      "Where to?" Alden asked, since Lauren's interest in exploring had been sudden even to him.

      His sister marched forward, clearly with a destination in mind. "You'll see. I've been dying to go ever since my friends told me about it, but it's best in the summertime."

      Alden narrowed his eyes at her. He didn't like that. She always had a plan in mind, but also…she'd meshed with the kids here better than he had. A year in, and he hadn't even gotten close enough to anyone to borrow notes from when he stayed home with a cold back in February.

      They walked for a few minutes to the nearby train station, where Lauren bought their tickets. Alden shrugged and followed her, since he liked a decent train ride. Besides, one of the few pluses for him in Japan was that a lot of sights that flew past the window outside the train looked…quite…spectacular…

      "HEY!" he yelped as their line sped out over the water. Alden ignored the dirty looks from fellow riders as he dropped down in his seat and glared at his sister. "You didn't mention there'd be water," he hissed under his breath.

      "Because if I had, you wouldn't've come along," Lauren replied. She studied her fingernails before glancing at him and tousling his hair. "I know you hate boats, Al. I wouldn't do that to you. But Enoshima's supposed to be really nice, and I think you could use something really nice after this past year. Just trust me on this, yeah?"

      He growled lowly under his breath and crossed his arms, tearing his eyes away from her. He sulked for the rest of the ride, and Lauren was only able to pry him from his seat with the reminder that going back meant going over the water again so soon.

      Enoshima…was tiny, and bustling, and not exactly what Alden thought he wanted right now. He'd never had a problem with crowds before, but Enoshima during summertime—suddenly he had a newfound appreciation for the sardines packed into tins at the grocery store. Or perhaps it was just the throttle of this end of the train station, since Lauren grabbed his hand and yanked him free from the crowd out into—no, it was Enoshima itself. Train station or not, the crowd didn't improve.

      "A lot of Japan seems to build up and out," he mumbled against Lauren's arm as they went with the tide flowing from the station out into the street.

      Lauren's eyes followed his, and she looked at the buildings that seemed haphazardly constructed on either side of the narrow road. She actually laughed. "And yet somehow it all still stands. I don't know; I kind of love this about Japan. It's either ancient or this modern mishmash."

      Alden groaned.

      She tugged him along and, they further they went, the easier it became to breathe. The crowds didn't thin, exactly, but there was more room to move around, so Lauren let go of her brother. The buildings began to thin, though, and Lauren perked up. "Hey, the way to the beach is clear."

      "I'm not a fan of water, and you didn't bring your suit."

      "Well, no, but we can still walk around on the sand, soak up the setting sun, and see what food stalls are up." When his stomach growled in response, Lauren smirked. "I won't tell Mom if you won't."

      "…fine."

      Alden traipsed after Lauren and stuck his hands in his shorts' pockets. He watched and half listened as she bounced from stall to stall, curious about the different treats and practicing her conversational Japanese, the latter of which he still only grasped a few words and phrases after all this time. He perked up for a second when Lauren got in line at the stand grilling meat on skewers, but then he grumbled again when she changed her mind and went investigating a shaved-ice cooler on wheels.

      Sighing, Alden looked around him. There were some tourists, possibly expats like them, and plenty of locals…but he noted many families packing up to head home for the day. Normal families, he supposed.

      Families who stayed put.

      Families who wanted to stick together.

      A sour feeling in his stomach bubbled up at that thought, and Alden wandered close to the water's edge, where the sand was gloopy and this morning's sandcastles were already memories. He kicked at the sand a bit while his back was to those happy families, but the water lapped up the sand, close to the toes of his sneakers.

      Alden took a shuddering step back. That had been close.

      But then something out in the water glinted and caught his eye.

      Alden lifted his head and squinted into the fading sunshine. A bundle of boulders sat partly in the middle of the water, as though broken off from the rocky hillside of Enoshima itself. But it wasn't the boulders that had caught Alden's attention but something coppery out by them… He shielded his eyes from the orange sun and could almost make out a coppery tail flicking in and out of the water—but when he traced the edge of the tail upwards, he thought he saw a pers—

      And then the waves sucked him down and crashed over him.

      His curiosity in what lay behind the rocks vanished, replaced by panic the second he realized he must've taken half a step closer to get a better look. And that half a step was all a churning ocean needed to take hold of an inexperienced swimmer who was unprepared on top of that.

      He clawed for the surface to no avail, desperate to keep this last breath of air in his lungs, in his mouth. Alden thrashed and thrashed and thrashed—a second wave came, the waters receding just long enough for him to gasp and gulp a bit more air—but then he was under anew, and he thought he heard shouts and screams coming from the beach. But, underwater, those sounds were muffled, distant, as far as he knew.

      The current turned and twisted him around, and Alden lost track of which way was up, whether left was right or right was left. The waters receded once again, and he used what little energy he had to scream for help…but his voice didn't sound like his own, and it sounded too close.

      No one could or would hear him.

      (It had been a mistake to come to Enoshima.)

      (…no, it had been a mistake to make this move to Japan.)

      Alden stopped turning under the waves and began to sink, his arms and legs tired of fighting natural forces. Feelings of resentment bloomed for a hot second, but they were overpowered with childlike yearning instead for his sister, for his parents…then, even yearning faded, giving way to imagination.

      Someone with dark hair appeared before him in the water. Alden's eyes wanted to drift closed, but the dark-haired presence slapped him awake once, twice, so he squinted through the murk—

      That was when he first locked eyes with her. Copper eyes.

      Her lithe arms came under his and she propelled them upwards, Alden clinging to her and tuning out the fearsome ocean…but catching a glimpse of her means in their wake. A copper tail to match.

      They broke the surface, and Alden gasped fresh air. Another wave crashed nearby, but he felt hard land underneath him now. He coughed and spluttered as he got his bearings—ah, she'd deposited him on the offshore rocks—but he turned for another glimpse of his rescuer…

      …only to find that, like the receding waters, she had gone just as quickly as she'd come.

      "Never again" and "I'm so sorry" were Lauren's favorite phrases after that incident.

      His sister determined never to let Alden out of her sight after that, and Roman and Marion had flipped their opinion about Japan being as safe as they previously thought. For Roman, it stung more, Alden knew, to have a Parker man nearly drown. Parker men were sailors, born and bred, after all. Parker men didn't drown.

      But then a new letter (new orders) arrived, and the family understood their time in Japan was winding down.

      Before, Alden would've been relieved. Truthfully, he mostly still was…but he hadn't been able to shake the vision of the mermaid from weeks ago.

      He had seen her, right?

      Clearly, someone had rescued Alden, because he could swim, but he didn't have the skills to fight against the rip current that came at him that summer evening. But he was smart enough to know you didn't just go around bringing up mermaids without people looking at you funny, even in a country that openly talked about spirits good and bad as though they were next-door neighbors.

      That was why Alden kept sneaking out, just a few times on the rare occasion when Lauren was out saying goodbyes with friends, and wandered back to the same spot on the beach in Enoshima before their father's assignment ended. He only managed it a handful of times, because there was packing to do, and surprisingly he had his own classmates who wanted to throw him a farewell party, too.

      Four times. Four nights he returned to the beach. Three times, it was pointless.

      But the fourth time, two days before the Parkers were meant to head back stateside, he caught sight of her again.

      Alden almost missed her, since the palette of everything was wrong, so much darker an blue–green, at night. But he'd been ready to head home when he heard something strange that made him turn back and search the shadows by the boulders.

      She was a silhouette until the clouds moved and let slivers of moonlight fall on her, casting a ghostly glow on her form, and he could see her stretched out on the rocks, flicking the tip of her dimmed but still coppery tail in and out of the water. She toyed with the ends of her hair and—the sound. The sound came from her…oh. She was singing.

      Alden scrunched up his nose. It really was a strange sound. It was singing, but it wasn't quite musical. If anything, it sounded more like the ocean to his ears, at varying volumes. He sighed, wondering if this was how she communicated (if so, this was a language barrier not even his smarty-pants sister could break…).

      But the mermaid stilled and snapped her head in his direction when he sighed. Even from afar, he caught the tiniest glimpse of her eyes—

      —and that was all he was going to see of her for the rest of his stay in Japan, and for several decades after that.

      At age twelve and fresh on the heels of his rescue, it was still easy to believe it had happened.

      By age thirteen and after befriending Billy Doyle, Alden wasn't sure it was "cool" to believe in myths and the impossible.

      By age fourteen, Alden had traded in his given name for the nickname "Park," taken up troublemaking as his favorite pastime, and swapped out belief for disbelief.

      Park was a teen who was definitely a skeptic in the making. He should've known better when Norman said he'd always be around to look out for him and Lauren. He should've known better when Lauren promised she'd stick around, too, before applying to the Naval Academy. He should've known better when Marion first lost some unexpected weight but swore she was healthy like an ox. And he should've known better, that Roman wasn't going to put his family before the Navy, nor was he going to give up on the idea of his youngest following in his footsteps.

      A prolonged stint in juvie didn't help Park's skepticism much, especially after Billy somehow emerged from their shared stint even bitterer than before. "Guys like us, they plan to lock us up time and time again. They're countin' on it, Park," Billy grumbled to him a month out and a month back in school.

      Park shook his head. "Pretty sure that's not how the system works, Billy."

      "Yeah? Just you watch. I'll still be in the crosswalk when the light turns red and they'll be on me to walk me back to juvie!"

      Park gave it some thought, mused that Billy might be coming from a five-finger discount before that hypothetical crosswalk, and then realized Billy eyed him intently, waiting for the usual response. He shook his head and grinned. "Not if you have me to watch your back," he returned.

      That did the trick. Billy eased up, reverted to that fun, why-don't-you-come-along-for-the-ride personality Park had befriended when he'd still been just "Alden," and the day became easier.

      Although, Park realized Billy hadn't been the only one eyeing him intently. In the hallway, between bells, he spied Joy Sullivan doing very much the same but for very different reasons.

      Joy, like Billy, didn't seem to mind the trouble Park got up to, even though she wasn't much of a mischief maker herself. "I think you've got good in you," Joy declared one night when she'd snuck out to meet him for a movie.

      Park raised one doubtful eyebrow. "Considering your parents turned me away at the door the first time I came to introduce myself…"

      But she shook her head in the face of his skepticism. "I don't go by hearsay, Park. I've got a good feeling about you."

      Her words made him snort and shake his head. Joy's "act now, think later" personality was a force of nature he didn't want to fight— Park stopped in his tracks on the sidewalk on the way to the theater.

      Joy turned around and peered at him. "Park?"

      He furrowed his brow, an expression that didn't change even when his eyes settled on her. Her dark hair…and his thoughts of her just now ("act now" and "force of nature")… Something briefly tickled his brain.

      Something he hadn't thought about for years.

      But, no, Park didn't really trust his own memory, not from back then. …nah, it certainly must've been a twelve-year-old kid's dream.

      So Park brushed off the idea—of someone ever being in the water with him then—as an old reverie.

      And reveries…and memories…come and go, especially as people age. People came and went, too, Park—now "Parker," in his adult life—learned, the hard way.

      Joy moved away before they even finished high school. Billy was right about himself, being in and out of the slammer; Parker finally put some distance between them, much as it pained him, much as he liked Billy and the woman who saw the good in Billy that Parker did, Tess.

      Parker did take a page out of Billy's book, though, not too skeptical to try settling down. That was why he went against his better judgment and took a chance on fellow FBI agent, Vivian Kolchak. She was a bit like him ("I'm skeptic lite," she would joke), and that part of her was easy to get along with. She even managed to charm his family, and Roman seemed to accept his youngest son's path at last, because some kids would be sailors, some kids would get married and have families, and some kids would do both. Alden Parker was finally behaving like his siblings and maybe, just maybe, living up to his family name.

      But Parker's hard left from troublemaker into law enforcement put his critical mind and eventually his new marriage to the test.

      He liked to think that his first case would always be the wackiest tale in his quiver (zebras on PCP in a Californian winery? he couldn't make this crap up if he tried), but then time and experience sharpened Parker's focus, and it was the odd instances, the rare occurrences that never added up that always gave him pause.

      Like a missing teen, spat out of a maze of a forest in Oregon after midnight, the second the missing victim turned eighteen.

      Or evidence in a double-homicide that survived arson in a home in Illinois, left behind in a way that made it seem as though someone—child-sized—had cowered over it during the blaze. And yet no body had been recovered.

      Or a body that had been lost during a storm in the Hudson River. Divers had tried to recover it, but it was too risky to try again, not with such a large storm bearing down on them. But, when the storm cleared, the body had been practically delivered to the shore for the FBI's easiest access, and they recovered the victim, closed the case, and helped the family mourn.

      "Don't you think there are…other things at work?" Viv asked him once, on one of their quieter days when they weren't arguing about work coming first or his temper because hey, look, they were both home for once, relaxing on a rare Saturday morning.

      Parker set down last Sunday's crossword and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You can't still be thinking about the Hudson case."

      "Of course I'm still thinking about the Hudson case. We just got back from New York, and I love New York, but that case was different."

      It was one thing for him to think it, but it was another for her to say it. Parker glanced at his wife in her matching armchair. "How do you think?"

      Viv liked that question. She saw that as a chance to blurt whatever was on her mind and follow her train of thought aloud (the latter had been an endearing quality…initially. After five years? Not so much). She ran a hand through her blond locks and cupped her cheek in her palm. "Well, most people would call it a miracle, as the family did when their daughter washed ashore."

      He pursed his lips. The topic hit a little too close to home.

      "But I have to wonder about other things actually out there. Like…things here, of course, but out there, in the world, working in unseen ways…ways maybe we can't even comprehend."

      He closed his eyes and willed himself not to roll them. Parker knew where this was going, because they'd had this chat before. "You mean aliens," he said, resuming his crossword.

      Parker didn't need to glance at her to know he'd earned Viv's glare—that clenched jaw and stony stare. "…you really mean to tell me that you've never once believed in something else? Something you can't explain, Park?"

      His hand stalled while answering 10-down, a nightmare of sinking underwater coming to mind, but he said nothing.

      Viv scoffed and shook her head. If she had worse words for him, she didn't share them.

      Well. Viv didn't share them then.

      It took them three more bitter, noisy years before they realized it wasn't going to get better, but Parker wondered why he was surprised when he heard through mutual friends at the office that Viv accepted a job from the Department of Defense, all but chasing her little green men.

      Parker winced, truthfully, when he heard her news. He didn't want "Head of the Unidentified Aerial Phenomena Task Force" on his résumé, not one bit. Give him drug kingpins or serial murderers or, hell, even missing children any day. Those things, graphic or heart-wrenching, he could handle.

      Parker didn't touch the "unexplained" with a ten-foot pole.

      …of course, that sour attitude with Viv leaked into his work attitude a little more than he would've liked in the years after the divorce. Before he knew it, Parker was down a partner, working cases on his own, and alienating (oh, the irony) agents around him. It was rather surprising when Director Sweeney huffed but signed off on Parker pursuing a potential serial killer on his own, in D.C.'s suburbs.

      Parker mused that Sweeney signed off partly to get Parker out of the office. He didn't mind; Parker considered it a win–win, since Sweeney was an exceptional bureaucrat and terrible at managing his agents.

      Still, Parker wondered how long this case would drag on. Months of sifting through cold cases and hunting this guy at a crawl… And now, here he was, in Georgetown, eyeing the man who might be his killer.

      He'd been here a few days, following a lead, when his own sixth sense—a real one trained from his time as Billy's sidekick and being an agent, nothing Viv might've conjured up—kicked in, causing Parker to hesitate while he tailed his suspect.

      Parker had eyes on his guy, but someone had eyes on him.

      He resumed moving, even though someone approached and tried to be friendly…but, ah, shit, that was a ploy. Parker broke out into a run, lost sight of his suspect, and sprinted across traffic.

      It was worse than he'd imagined. Not one, but three people were on him.

      "NCIS!" the female agent shouted.

      Internally, Parker cursed. Crossing jurisdiction lines, mixing alphabets—definitely not good…if he got caught.

      Unfortunately for him, that was the end result. This trio was younger, had a touch more energy than did he, and had the element of surprise on their side.

      Parker ended up surrendering in the small park across the street, on his knees, hands up, with two guns pointed at him and one joker assuring his pals that he "totally had him." But the agent behind him…ah, the female one, since he got a good look at the wise guy and the pasty fellow in front of him…cuffed him and pulled Parker to his feet.

      "Your friend got away, but you'll do," Pasty said, flashing his badge. Parker glimpsed the name "McGee" beside the NCIS insignia.

      His shorter friend grumbled about having it under control "without your and Knight's help," and they led the way back to their SUV. McGee and the other man climbed in front, and Knight opened the back door for Parker.

      "Watch your head," she told him. Then she got her first look at him.

      Parker got his first look at her.

      The incident he'd spent decades convincing himself was little more than a dream (and, hey, maybe he'd never even dreamt it!) hit him then in full force.

      The current dragging him under.

      Two arms appearing from nowhere, pulling him up to the surface.

      A mass of dark hair that floated around her like seaweed.

      And, peering out from that hair, at him, like gems, copper eyes that matched the scales—

      "Hello?" Knight blinked first and waved her hand in front of his face. "You all right? You paled, like, sheet white. You need to tell us if you have a medical emergency—"

      "I'm fine," Parker managed, and he swallowed a cold lump that formed in his throat. He shook his head. "I, uh, I'm fine. Just a bit chilly," he conceded, since there was no use in trying to hide his cold sweat.

      She nodded slowly and helped him into the back. A minute later, Knight took the other seat in the back and told her colleagues to go. "Oh, and can we have a little heat back here, McGee?" She offered Parker a small smile to show she'd heard him.

      Parker pursed his lips, knowing he needed to focus on this new wrench in his case…but his eyes kept going back to Knight's.

      Knight glanced at him after a while. "Something on my face?" she asked.

      Parker wondered. Especially when every fiber of his being screamed at him that Knight's eyes were the same ones as his rescuer's back then.

      But…how?

      Parker tabled the question, grudgingly, for the next few days, as his case both fell apart and broke open, thanks to NCIS' meddling.

      In the span of mere days, Parker blew his cover, nearly turned his case over to these Navy cops…somewhat reluctantly worked as part of a team…and realized that (perhaps) he'd been working on his own for a little too long. He'd also nearly cost them their forensic scientist, gone on a manhunt after their former team leader, and lost his job at the FBI.

      Good grief, his father would give him an earful at the next Family Game Night.

      But, in the midst of this tumult, Parker kept a close eye on Knight and noted how she interacted with her team and how they reacted to her. As far as he could tell, she was a bit of a new face herself, around McGee and Torres (the wise guy). But Kasie and Palmer, NCIS' forensic scientist and medical examiner, respectively, treated her like an old friend. And, after how high tensions had run during his—ah, right, they had a name to give their deceased killer now—during the LeMere case, Knight appeared to be rubbing off on the rest, fitting in just fine.

      Nobody gave her a second glance at all.

      Maybe it was just him? Perhaps Knight simply…bore a striking resemblance to someone (or something, he chided himself at home) from his past. …still.

      He had this chance, this opportunity now, to speak with her and to quiet that nagging voice in his head that usually only piped up during particularly tricky investigations.

      But the LeMere case was over. He didn't have a good excuse to contact her out of the blue.

      Right then, a chime notification hit his phone. Parker paused tending to his plants to read the message:

-My office, tomorrow morning, 11AM.

      He didn't need to wait or glance at the number to see who'd sent it, because Vance followed up with his director signature, as if signing an official NCIS email or document. Parker chuckled at that. Vance was the kind of bureaucrat he could get used to…

      Parker took a second look at the message.

      Well, a follow-up with their director was a good enough excuse, wasn't it?

      The next morning, Parker dressed early and drove to NCIS, but he sat in the visitors' lot for an extra five minutes, gathering his thoughts. He had an idea of what Vance wanted to say and knew his response already ("Thanks, but no thanks"), but when it came to Knight… When it came to her, he just had too many questions. Parker huffed as he exited his car and headed inside, musing that coming twenty minutes early probably hadn't been enough time for what he hoped would be a fruitful chat with the smiley agent.

      A probationary agent signed him in downstairs and gave Parker a visitor's badge, and the agent escorted him upstairs in the elevator, too. But, when the elevator dinged and the doors slid apart, they came face to face with Knight.

      Parker's eyes flicked to hers.

      Knight smiled her thanks at the probie. "I can take it from here, Kent." She stepped aside to let Parker exit and the elevator doors closed, sending the probie back down, but they didn't round the cubicles to join McGee and Torres in the bullpen. Instead, Knight furrowed her brow and cocked her head at Parker. "You're back," she stated, curious.

      He was never so glad to be skipping over greetings. Parker glanced in the direction of the MCRT desks and saw McGee and Torres were either busy or absent, and he returned his focus to Knight. "You have a minute?" he asked in a low voice.

      Her smile faded, replaced by barely there frown, but Knight nodded. She led him around a corner, down a hallway, and around a second corner before the din of the floor disappeared. "There's little foot traffic back here. You sound serious," she added.

      "Oh, it's nothing to do with the case—that's shut and closed. No loose ends," Parker assured her.

      Knight's shoulders dropped half an inch and she exhaled audibly.

      Parker studied her. The light in this back hallway had nothing on the skylights out in the bullpen, but he could still take in the sight of her well enough…and she did seem…normal, for lack of a better word. She was half a head shorter than him, even, and that was surreal to reconcile with a figure roughly his size or larger who'd saved him from drowning when he'd been a kid.

      The only thing that refused to let Parker drop his hunch was her eyes. Even in the dull light, they had an unnatural glint to him that he could pick out of a lineup, because he'd seen these eyes before.

      "Have we met before?" It was one of dozens of questions he wanted to ask and not necessarily the first, but he blurted it before his brain caught up with his mouth.

      Knight stilled. On a suspect, this would be a giveaway for Parker to interpret; on Knight, it was the rare kind of non-reaction he couldn't read. Eventually, she eased back into a smile and chuckled. "Well, yeah. We've met—on this case, a few days ago," she teased, as though he had short-term memory loss. "But it's nice to see you again, Alden."

      He narrowed his eyes. This entire time with NCIS, everyone had referred to him as "Parker" or "Agent Parker." Not that he hadn't introduced himself with his given name, but none of them had used it so far. He quirked an eyebrow at her.

      Her eyes widened at the overfamiliarity. "…as in, since the, uh, case is over. And I guess. It might be a while?" She reddened, too, harsh against their orange-walled surroundings, but she laughed at herself.

      That lone, skeptical eyebrow hovered, but Parker found himself smiling, too, in the face of Knight's awkward charm. Hers was the warmest reception around NCIS, anyhow, so he decided to leave his other questions for another day. "Ah…yeah, yeah, it might be a while, I dunno," he replied, scratching the back of his head.

      "What brings you in this morning anyway, Parker? Surely not my sparkling wit," Knight commented with a grin. She began leading them back towards the main floor.

      "Oh. Uh, I have a meeting with Director Vance shortly."

      "Ah. You don't want to be late for that."

      They wound their way back and Knight passed him off to another agent heading upstairs on the way to Vance's office. On the staircase, Parker glanced down into the bullpen and saw Knight, McGee, and Torres watching like curious puppies, only McGee and Torres pretended to find some work when they caught Parker's eye. Knight gave him a little wave.

      Vance didn't keep Parker waiting long and, even back inside the NCIS director's office again in as many days, Vance didn't dawdle with his reason for asking Parker here today. "I heard about your situation at the FBI," the director said.

      "'Situation' is a funny euphemism for 'fired,'" Parker pointed out.

      Vance stood behind his desk and shrugged at the notion. "There's that, and then there's…freeing you up."

      Parker stuck his hands in his pockets.

      "I'm sure you know we've got an opening, too. On that very same team you just assisted with the LeMere case."

      And there it was. Gibbs had mumbled something about it before setting root in Alaska. Vance had been sizing him up the last several days. But now the offer was official, to make the switch from the FBI to NCIS. Parker had known this, and he'd known his answer before coming in here.

      …but he also saw the opportunity. In general, but, even setting the past aside, he found himself freshly curious about Knight.

      "…count me in," he answered.

      Accepting a new team was one thing. Getting the new team to accept him…that was Parker's next undertaking.

      The MCRT lived up to its name, for sure. From supposed zombie sailors to drugged Navy athletes and even encountering in-laws on cruise ships with dead Navy commanders—these were absolutely major cases. And Parker was no slouch at handling his fair share of oddball cases.

      "But this is kind of our ballpark, too," Knight reminded him on the drive back from informing a sailor's family of his involvement in a local robbery. She tipped her head at Parker. "Don't forget you can rely on us, Parker."

      "No, I know, I know," he said. "And I'm trying. I thought Bandium was a good idea."

      She went quiet.

      At a stoplight on the way back to the office, he stole a peek at her and scoffed. "Yeah, all right, let me have it."

      Knight stifled her laughter and lightly knocked her knuckles against his shoulder before the light turned green and he got them moving again. "I mean, it wasn't the worst idea… But, as I said before, it's a way to communicate, and simply talking's communicating, too."

      "I thought at least McGee would be on my side with it. He likes a lot of the techie stuff same as me."

      "Eh, I think he likes being the one to introduce the techie stuff to us. But he'll find its use. I think Bandium's…got a nice color scheme."

      "Knight."

      "Mm?"

      "You're laying it on a little thick there."

      "Oops."

      Parker's scoff this time was too amused; it turned partway into a chuckle of his own. He shook his head at her reaction, glad to have her along and glad to brainstorm with her. "…thanks."

      He didn't have to look by now to know Knight smiled in response. "Could be worse," she said as they returned to the Navy Yard.

      "How so?"

      "It could be pre-Bandium days. We could have phones that only now have the capability to text. Ugh, those days were bad," she added with a shudder.

      "Yeah, pre-texting days in law enforcement…"

      "Or imagine no cellphones on the job. Remember when they first debuted?"

      Parker nodded when they parked. "Never had to carry one of those bricks and glad I never will." He paused before getting out when he spied her grin. "What?"

      "And that attitude sounds a bit like Torres. Lean into that some, and maybe he won't be as chilly over time."

      "I'll take that under advisement." Though said lightly, he actually meant it. Torres had been the grumpiest one of their bunch. McGee was reluctant to follow a new team leader after all his time spent under Gibbs, which Parker understood, but Torres was of a different breed. Parker appreciated Knight's skills in translating her friends' behavior…

      …truth be told, these first few months, interacting with and then joining NCIS, he'd at least been right on the mark about one aspect about Jessica Knight. She was the friendliest one to him. Kasie was trying but still held not shooting LeMere against him, and Palmer, like McGee, treated him with polite friendliness while he, too, adjusted to the changes around the office. And where Torres was openly hostile, Vance was openly accommodating as his new boss. But Knight was the bridge between old and new while still making adjustments herself, as she'd explained about her previous REACT team to Parker one afternoon a few weeks ago.

      He'd been surprised when she shared that, but Parker mused that it might've half been to fill the void of an otherwise quiet car ride on the way to a scene. Initial small talk, he could handle. Talking for half an hour straight with someone he barely knew? Not Alden Parker's strongest suit.

      But Knight had shared how she'd gotten here, something personal, and left it at that.

      Sometimes he got the sense she left the floor open for him to share, too, if he felt like it. …a few times, she outright asked, claiming she wanted to know what made him tick.

      That, he was still working on. He'd made the mistake of telling his team he wasn't great with boats when they'd worked the commander's murder aboard the cruise ship, and that had earned him several curious looks (then, too, Knight politely stifled her laughter and tamped down a smile). Sharing more about himself than what little they'd dug up on him or he'd cared to impart—and bringing pastries each morning had to be a point in his favor—exercised communication skills Parker wasn't certain he'd ever had.

      But, for all Knight could be pushy, she let the car go silent all the same, giving Parker time and room for whenever he was ready. The atmosphere with her was comfortable. That was why, he knew, he regularly partnered up with her, not only not to break the good rhythm McGee and Torres had established, but because Knight matched Parker's pacing well.

      Even tonight, on their way to speak with their victim's ex-wife, Parker and Knight found a space to park along the busy street and walked up the sidewalk together, chatting about Torres' moping over the bullet-riddled classic car from their crime scene. Parker shook his head and smiled, cutting the hotheaded agent some slack over reminiscing on his first car. "Eh, well, you never forget your first car or first anything." He chuckled. "He reminded me of the way I get when I still watch King Kong."

      "No," Knight commented, a smile in her voice. One peek told him the smile was there for real.

      But Parker didn't mind elaborating, with Knight. "Yeah. Favorite movie as a kid."

      "Which version?"

      "Classic. 1933."

      She nodded appreciatively. "I remember when that came out. That's a good one."

      "Yep. And…that's my second childhood reminisce of the day." He heaved a sigh. "Isn't that an omen?"

      Knight shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. Could just be you being paranoid, but if I start talking about classic Barbie, then we'll know it's contagious."

      Parker shared in her grin this time when they approached the ex-wife's door—but he faltered on the step behind Knight as he processed what she said. "Which Barbie?" he asked Knight with narrowed eyes.

      She looked at Parker over her shoulder, her hand poised to knock on the door. "Malibu Barbie," she clarified. "Y'know. Since we were bringing up childhood favs." Then she gave him a quizzical smile before knocking.

      But Parker clicked his tongue against his teeth. He wasn't young, but he wasn't that old, and his hearing was still pretty damn good. …had Knight said "Malibu" the first time? And yet—hold on. The movie, too—he'd glossed right over her comment on the classic version.

      The door was unlocked, so Knight led the way inside, raising her eyebrows when she caught Parker's expression.

      …right. They had a job to do. And Parker still trusted Knight as his partner out in the field…

      …but she'd just renewed his curiosity in her as more than just his partner and part of his team.

      The investigator in him wanted to brand it "suspicion." But the side of Parker finding his footing with Knight (and the rest) wanted to think of it as curiosity.

      He'd been able to table his doubts about the Enoshima rescue for months now, putting them out of mind by force until it came naturally, until they weren't a niggling thought, even when Knight's eyes lingered on him every now and then. Besides, Parker didn't hate her attention, especially now that he knew she just liked to coax conversation from him.

      But her Barbie comment and her remark about King Kong had his ears pricked up for anything else potentially anachronous—just, anything else that didn't add up. Which briefly reminded him about their chat about Bandium and phones…but, no, that might've just been a context issue…

      "Ah, to be young and in love," Knight remarked of Barlow and Nazar as the couple reunited outside the Afghan Embassy.

      Parker snorted. "Yeah, they make it look so easy," he grumbled, hoping this ploy of luring the Chief Warrant Officer from the embassy to meet with his fiancée would give them both their suspect and the missing drone key.

      Knight snickered and tilted her head up at him. She leaned in and bumped her shoulder against Parker's. "First love?" she asked.

      Joy's name was on the tip of his tongue, but—with Knight staring at him on this overcast day, her eyes alight—his memory of the mermaid flashed in his head, and his mouth went dry. Suddenly, his collar felt warm, and he averted his eyes. "A long time ago," he stated. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Knight raise a curious eyebrow, but he wasn't going to let her pursue this topic. Parker stepped between Barlow and Nazar then. "All right, let's go. Rafi Nazar, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used—"

      But his Miranda Warning to Nazar was cut short, interrupted by gunfire from a vehicle speeding down the street in front of the embassy.

      Parker and Knight jumped apart, him on Nazar, her on Barlow. For a terrifying minute, Parker lost sight of Knight, and the gunshots echoed in the neighborhood, with every last building packed in tightly together. Then the gunfire ceased, the shooting rampage bookended by the screech of tires, and Parker checked Nazar over.

      "Parker!" Knight yelled. She scrambled to her feet, her face crumpled but her voice mostly steady. "You okay?"

      He paused long enough to give her a nod and see her relief, before he told her to call 911, because Nazar had been hit.

      Good grief. Mermaids or not—he needed to get it together….

      "How you holding together, Agent Parker?" Palmer asked more than a week later, as he, Parker, Knight, and Torres were flown out to assess the situation of the Stargazer.

      Parker shifted in his seat in the helicopter, forward and then to the side. But to the side meant closer to the window, which meant closer to the sea… It had been different, working that cruise ship case, since that had been docked. Out here? The Stargazer was stranded at sea.

      Knight leaned forward in her seat behind him. "You get seasick," she reminded him. "Maybe you should've stayed back at headquarters with McGee."

      He shook his head and opened his mouth to gripe that he wouldn't've been much help to McGee and Kasie this time. Wait. He'd told them he hated boats, but had he told them he specifically got seasick? He hadn't mentioned his dislike for the water… Well, maybe it had come up, just between him and Knight? Parker furrowed his brow, flipping through his mental rolodex of all the instances they'd shot the breeze, searching for when he might've brought up his phobias.

      She squeezed his shoulder. "Hey." She waited until he turned his head her way. "I'm not that keen to head down there either."

      Parker raised his eyebrows. Considering they each wore a headset to hear each other during the flight, he wondered if this was old news to Torres and Palmer.

      Knight scrunched up her nose and tried to smile. "I'm…hoping we can settle this quickly, before we find ourselves overboard." She dropped her eyes to the back of his seat and glanced at the window without exactly looking outside.

      Huh. Surprising. "Scared of the water, Knight?" Perhaps it was a phobia they had in common.

      "… …no. I'm at home in it," she replied. This time, her smile was gone.

      Parker pursed his lips, finding her expression at odds with her statement. Whatever she really meant, he hated seeing her so serious, and he scratched his scruffy jaw, contemplating something to lift her spirits.

      Before he landed on something, Knight added, in a low voice, "It's the current out here that I don't like. There's one of me but three of you. If anything goes wrong… Rescuing you won't be as easy as last time."

      Parker's eyes widened. His hand fell in his lap and he twisted around in his seat to catch Knight's expression—

      —but she was sitting back as the helicopter began its descent, and she focused on checking her gun's readiness. Beside her, Torres gave no indication that he'd heard the last bit; in front of Torres, Palmer was the same.

      Parker's heart pounded in his chest…or, no, that could be him tuning in to the helo's blades as they landed and removed their headsets… But still. Still.

      He wanted to doubt what he'd heard, but he couldn't brush this off as mishearing, not like past times.

      Yet, once again, he had to put his suspicions on pause while the case at hand took precedence. Which—not Parker's first choice, since terrorists pretending to be black ops Navy chasing them into the belly of the Stargazer increased the odds of Parker's and Knight's fears for this trip to come true.

      They'd shot one pilot dead, but Parker's team managed to drag their other pilot, Lt. Vela, to safety. The team found a room with space and a table to get Vela elevated for Palmer to work on him, but they'd be sitting ducks if they stayed here, hoping NCIS would send more assistance anytime soon.

      Parker had his satphone, but something blocked the signal. He cursed and rolled his eyes. "They've got a signal jammer," he announced to the room.

      "So we're stuck here, without NCIS knowing what we've walked into?" Palmer asked. His face dropped.

      Knight and Torres exchanged a look. "This ship had a crew before these guys arrived," she said.

      "You thinking what I'm thinking?" Torres asked.

      "Might be strength in numbers."

      "Only if they're still alive," Parker warned the ambitious duo.

      Torres didn't shrug him off, but Knight did purse her lips and look Parker's way.

      "…fine," he relented, despite his dislike for splitting up when they had so many unknown variables. "You two go scout the rest of the ship, while I stay here with Jimmy and the lieutenant. I'll do my best to figure out an antenna fix for the satphone. That might extend beyond the jammer's reach, if long enough."

      They nodded, and Torres led the way out.

      "Hey," Parker called after them.

      Knight turned back partway.

      "Be careful out there."

      She offered him that tiny smile again. And then she disappeared after Torres into the corridor.

      Parker had thought their situation couldn't get any worse. Even though Palmer helped him locate some wire in the room to turn into an antenna, too much time passed without Knight or Torres returning. And he couldn't drag Palmer with him—Palmer's focus had to remain on Vela, because Vela was their ticket out of there.

      Parker exited their hideout and found a) he hated how quiet this end of the boat was and b) a cover to the vent system down the hall and around the corner. He zipped the satphone into his jacket and pried the cover off, glad the vent was sized right for him, and climbed inside. From there, he followed the sounds.

      It was chaos from there. No wonder Knight and Torres had yet to return; Maddux and his men had taken them hostage and, sonuvabitch, tortured them for information on the others' whereabouts. Parker made sure they had time to get free, though, before he went luring Maddux and his thugs into a wild goose chase since, it turned out, they were also now looking for the pilot and the keys to the one vehicle off this ghost ship.

      But where Parker's brain thought a mile a minute ahead during the thrill of the chase, it took a breather once he hid on the helicopter while the terrorists flew off with their stowaway, thinking they'd escaped without issue.

      He closed his eyes and pictured Knight, Torres, bloodied and bruising. Palmer was capable, but Lt. Vela wouldn't have much time left if the good doctor didn't have the right tools.

      He cobbled his next steps together. Vela's music player, waiting for Maddux to be alone when they landed in some sort of warehouse, pulling the pin on that grenade—Parker was still a skeptic, even of his own plans. Time and again, he pulled through by the skin of his teeth. Now, his hijinks with Billy from yesteryear, and even that fateful day in Enoshima—

      But McGee received his message and sent help in the nick of time. And Parker rode back with the backup, took an earful from Vance the next morning, checked that Knight and Torres were all right after their private sessions with Maddux's guy, and joined in Knight's group photo for her niece's school project, actually feeling like a proper part of this team.

      After the photo, though, Parker passed the Paper Pauline back to Knight and lingered at her desk while the others found things to do. He lowered his voice, starting, "Hey, uh, Knight, about what you said on the helo flight…"

      This time, she didn't still. She fussed more with the damaged paper doll before setting it aside. Knight pulled her chair underneath her and sat down with a tight grin. "Oh, that?" She chuckled softly. "Yeah, sorry to bring up your seasickness and get you thinking about it right before we landed."

      He opened he mouth, poised to mention he'd heard what else she'd said, but Parker hesitated, because their interaction had changed. This time, when he'd brought something peculiar up…this time, Knight wouldn't look him in the eye.

      Knight hadn't given him any concrete proof before and even now her behavior was flimsy at best. But she was holding back something from Parker, of that he was certain.

      Through quiet days filled with paperwork and more typical days filled with cases big and small (your run-of-the-mill bioterror attack in the lab, Billy reentering Parker's life now of all times), Parker no longer brushed off his memories as a dream. If anything, he spent his nights at home, lying awake, concentrating on that last summer in Japan, trying to summon the details of that late summer day-turned-evening out with Lauren, hoping they'd glare vividly and give him more to go on if he wished hard enough for it.

      He couldn't stop thinking about what Knight had tacked on in the helicopter, as if it'd just been the two of them during one of their usual car conversations where she felt the urge to confide in him. That and her previous slip-ups and his gut feeling, when they first crossed paths months ago—it was hard not to think they hadn't met before.

      But—back then? In his youth? If so, Knight barely had aged, but more than that…

      Parker dragged a hand over his face.

      Was he really allowing himself to imagine a coworker with a tail now? (He made a mental note to apologize to Viv if he ever got the chance, because her alien infatuation paled in comparison.)

      It didn't help that, in the aftermath of Torres' undercover op with Sawyer in the fight club, the favorite joke around the office still was Parker needing to meet with Dr. Confalone for his official psych eval, to certify his move to NCIS.

      "It's not that hard," McGee assured him for the umpteenth time, but even he couldn't help the amusement leaking into his tone, and his grin was more entertained than friendly when said it—truly, he was Nick Torres' good friend. "We've all had to go through obtaining the official seal of mental approval, and Dr. Grace is great."

      "I second that," Torres said. He left it at that, which was an improvement from his attitude before the undercover op.

      Parker was glad for that, at least, and he knew Dr. Confalone was in part responsible for Torres' lighter attitude around the office. But he hadn't heard from the full chorus yet, and he raised his eyebrows at Knight.

      She ducked her head a split-second after their eyes met. "She's not a part of NCIS, but she's practically family. You'll like her, so it'll make it a breeze. Besides, she doesn't pull her punches, and she's good at seeing through your bullshit if you have any."

      Well, that was frank. He'd be more appreciative, if Parker weren't so worried. If Dr. Confalone were really that good, then how the hell was he supposed to hide from her a crackpot theory that was on his mind twenty-four–seven and not wind up not only without a badge but committed?

      "Ah, hey," McGee said, interrupting Parker's inner panic. He nodded to both Parker and Knight. "You guys taking the wife's interview?"

      "Yeah," Parker agreed. He needed to get his mind off the eval.

      McGee sent them Miller's address, and the Bandium notification chimed lowly on their phones. "Good luck."

      Parker and Knight headed downstairs, forgoing jackets since it'd warmed up considerably as of late. But the elevator ride down and the short walk to the car was quiet. Parker surmised today might be another quiet one, since Knight had been blowing rather hot and cold since the Stargazer. Some days, she was her bubbly, smiley, chatty self; others, like today, she wasn't keen to meet his eyes and kept her responses more direct (granted, she was often blunt, but Knight didn't soften her blows on these days).

      They were five minutes into their ride when Knight turned to him, gave him a long stare, and exhaled. "Are you really that worried about speaking with Dr. Grace?"

      Thank God, she was talking normally to him today. Parker peeked at her when he rolled through a stop sign. "I figure you've learned that about me by now. I'm not fond of heart-to-hearts."

      "Well, true." Knight shrugged and leaned back in the passenger seat. Her smile was back in her voice as she encouraged, "You know you don't need to have a heart-to-heart with her. It's literally just a psych eval. But she's there if you want to talk."

      "Yeah, I don't need to talk."

      "I didn't say 'need.' I said 'want,' Parker."

      "And I don't want to talk to her, not if I didn't have to."

      Knight let a couple silent minutes pass. "…you talk to me," she pointed out. "Not just about the things you like, the nerdy stuff or birds or plants or pastries. You talked to me about Billy. You've talked to me about being a fellow Navy brat."

      Parker licked his lips. Was there a good way to explain himself? It was easy to talk to Knight…not even for what he suspected she could be…but because she was Knight. In the end, he concurred, "…yeah, I talk to you."

      They arrived at Miller's street, and Parker cut the engine. They stepped out, and Knight's smile this time was small but brighter than any he'd seen before. She fell into step with him on the concrete path in front of the row of houses, and she bumped her shoulder against his like usual. "See? That's all that Dr. Grace will care about. That you've got a good head on your shoulders and, if things get rough, you do have someone you open up to. So don't stress out about it so much. She won't demand you tell her your deepest, darkest secrets—unless they're a threat to national security."

      He stopped in the middle of the path.

      "Parker?"

      "And if they're not a threat to national security, but they're disruptive?"

      Knight stopped with him, her smiling wavering. "Disruptive how?"

      He furrowed his brow and searched her face. There was never going to be a good time to bring this up, but—dammit, Miller's widow could wait. "It's something that keeps me preoccupied." Parker hesitated before diving right in: "Knight…who are you?"

      She gaped at him, caught off-guard by the question.

      So Parker pushed forward before she could dismiss this instance as another misunderstanding. "1973," he said. "Before Philly and Billy and pretty much the rest of my life. It was my father's only overseas assignment in Asia, and I know, I know, this sounds crazy, and I've seen your birthday in your NCIS file…but I'd bet anything it was you on the beach that evening, this"—he fretted, opting at the last second not to refer to her as a "creature"—"person, who saved my life from waters that I couldn't swim, that the people back then couldn't swim to get to me."

      There.

      There it was.

      Knight was still, same as the day he accepted Vance's offer. Except, this time, Parker recognized this stillness as Knight's brand of thinking-on-her-feet calm. Finally, she swallowed and said, "We should be interviewing Nina Miller right now."

      Parker's frustration briefly flared, but it vanished the next second as he followed her to the Millers' front door.

      Knight hadn't dismissed him, nor had she called him crazy.

      And that would be the only thought cycling through his head for the next few hours, after they discovered Nina Miller was their victim's second, hidden family and this wife attacked Parker, leaving Knight to run him back to the office in a panic, worried about a concussion and stitches….

      (But, hey, she hadn't called him crazy.)

      After all was said and done and they had Miller's first wife arrested for his murder, it had been a long case and a late night. McGee and Torres headed out with Dr. Confalone after Parker, finally, made his appointment, and Kasie and Palmer popped by to say goodnight, although Palmer's extra glance was a dead giveaway for double-checking the sutures on Parker's forehead.

      "Keep icing as needed, Parker," Palmer reminded him as Kasie dragged him towards the elevator.

      "Will do, doc," Parker promised, waving to them with a case folder. After the doors shut, he looked to his right.

      Normally, at this point, Parker would insist Knight head home, too. But she sensed his eyes on her and picked her head up from her paperwork. "How are you feeling?"

      "Practice round, for when I meet with Dr. Grace?"

      Her lips were a flat line. "Parker."

      "Jimmy checked me before. No concussion."

      Knight pouted. "Well, just to be sure, maybe you should stay up a while longer."

      He raised his eyebrows and almost laughed. "There's definitely plenty to do," Parker agreed, turning back to the forms spread out on his desk.

      But Knight stood and grabbed her keys. "Actually—go for a ride with me?"

      Parker set down his pen. She'd asked, but he had the sense it wasn't a question.

      They left in her car. Knight ran a hand through her hair, seeming tired but not sighing, before she turned the engine over. When she pulled out, they left the Navy Yard but didn't drive all that far from it, finding a nice spot along the jogging path by the main road that looked out over the water.

      Knight exited the car first, and Parker followed, taking his time to appreciate the sparse trees along the path and the gentle breeze that blew through them. From on the jogging path itself, Parker had a better view of the water. While not a fan of what the water could do, he didn't hate what it reflected, and he thought the Moon was actually quite nice tonight, calming and peaceful.

      Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Knight gazing at the reflection, too, and the later part of his memory of that summer returned to him, clear as the moonlight tonight, of the night he saw the mermaid sing. Beautiful now, beautiful then.

      Had he been moonstruck then or now? Parker wasn't sure of anything anymore.

      Knight crossed her arms in front of her chest and kept her gaze steady out in the water. "You mentioned 1973 before."

      "I did."

      "But you were beating around the bush, weren't you? Could you—Could you elaborate?"

      Had anyone else asked, Parker's lips would be sealed tighter than a clam. But he knew, she knew—he talked to her. So he stuck his hands in his pockets and he told her, taking it from the top: from Lauren's lie-by-omission to get him on a train across water to his not wanting to be in Japan in the first place (ah, he'd circled back too early) to getting too close to the water and being pulled under…to the copper eyes and tail that saved him…to the last time he saw her before his family left Kanagawa. It sounded so absurd, even to his ears. But he truly believed Knight was the last person who'd think him crazy.

      At the end of his tale, Knight sighed. After another beat, she hummed to herself, something not exactly…a tune…but which Parker noted sounded like the mermaid's song from their last encounter.

      They locked eyes.

      Knight's smile was soft, a bit melancholy, a little timid. But she nodded and half turned towards Parker.

      He drank in the sight of her anew, eyes roving over Knight, excitement and relief and confusion all warring within him. Parker couldn't help but face her, as well, and brush Knight's hair out of her face to get a good, long look at her.

      …she looked plenty human, just like him, but her irises were unnaturally iridescent in the moonlight.

      "It's you?"

      Her smile widened. "You're unsure now, after hearing my song again?"

      "But—it was really you then, not. Not some relative?"

      Knight shook her head.

      "How—?"

      "Oh, I was still young myself back then. I was glad I was able to get to you in time."

      Parker gawked at her. "Really? You don't appear to have aged much since then…"

      "We carry it well," she said with a shrug and a laugh. "Nah, actually, it's kind of like dog years, in a way…?"

      He hadn't missed that she'd said "we," but that comparison threw him. "Wait. Then, how old—?"

      "Parker, you still shouldn't ask a lady her age, whether she's got legs or fins."

      "Ah, right, sorry." He blinked a beat later, realizing after the fact that she'd distracted him pretty easily from the topic. Parker shot her a look. "Hey."

      Knight snickered and leaned against his right arm. "Let's just say I'm older than I appear. In human years, I'd be closer to your age than you think—but I wear it well."

      They watched a near wave ripple through the reflection and crash far, far below, beyond where it'd be a danger, though still Parker gave an involuntary shudder. He tried to focus on their conversation to keep his mind preoccupied. "You said you were young when you rescued me."

      "Mm-hmm." Knight paused. "I saw you swept up by the water and knew I had to act, even though interaction with humans is supposed to be limited."

      He glanced down at her. "Limited? Not forbidden?"

      "No… Once, the water was our sole domain. But time and technology changed that. And we adapted with the times." She frowned but didn't continue that thread, which left him wondering. Then Knight peered up at him. "Yours was the first life I ever saved…and I felt a change within me after that. When I had the chance, I came ashore to see how I could touch other lives, how I could save more."

      Parker had spent ages spinning theories and coming up with countless questions. Now that he had answers, Knight only gave him more questions. He was curious about how she was able to change (was it like the fairytale? Had they told it right all along?), but…more than that, he understood Knight's desire to do good in the world, especially, in a troublemaker's case, when he'd spent a chunk of his life doing bad. Ultimately, he sighed.

      "What is it?"

      "Ah, that's…that's just me being relieved that you're the one and the same from back then." He cracked his skeptical smile for her, dimpling his cheek. "Just—to think we'd meet again now, of all places."

      Knight hummed (an actual, human hum this time) in agreement, amused. But her amusement ebbed when she looked at him again with wary eyes.

      Parker shook his head. "Your secret's safe with me," he assured her. "Besides, all I've ever wanted was to tell what I thought was a mirage that day thank you, so…thank you." And he punctuated his gratitude with a bear hug.

      Knight said nothing. But she did return his hug, hiding her face by his shoulder and clutching his back, in relief.

      Relief.

      If Parker titled his eras, this one would be "relief," without a doubt. Solving the biggest mystery of his own life…and getting to work alongside that very mermaid…was a true feather in his cap.

      But solving that mystery came second to being fully comfortable again around Knight. There weren't any more off days where she wouldn't meet his eyes, now that she'd shared her truth with him. Actually, she was almost too comfortable, knowing she could crack certain private jokes with him now, without concern for her real age or fishy background which she hid around their friends.

      "Although maybe cut back on the nautical puns?" Parker suggested in the break room one afternoon.

      "Ohhhh, come onnn," Knight whined while he zapped a rare leftover croissant from this morning. "I've been sitting on some of these for more than fifty years, Parker. You've gotta let a girl chum the waters."

      "Knight."

      She grinned. "Half the time, someone hears something and doesn't even understand. They fall for it, hook, line, and sinker."

      Parker groaned into his mug of coffee and scratched his brow. Thankfully, the microwave dinged. He plucked the treat and pulled it apart, into two, passing Knight her half in a napkin. He leaned in before he released the croissant. "Just be careful," he whispered, both resigned and worried.

      Knight scrunched her nose up, but that grin didn't dim one bit. She patted his cheek and spoke between bites. "Hey, when you're an indestructible creature, you get to have some fun sometimes."

      Someone passing by the break room cleared his throat.

      They turned and saw that probie from the lobby desk, Kent, eyeing Knight in confusion.

      "She's speaking in hyperbole," Parker said matter-of-factly. He ushered the probationary agent to get moving with a wave of his mug.

      Knight snickered and coughed around her croissant as they walked back to the bullpen. "Nice cover."

      "And that's why I want you to be careful," he grumbled. The team already had accepted that Parker and Knight shared an odd sense of humor. Chances were good that the entire office would decide that, as well, soon enough.

      Torres picked his head up from his desk just as they sat down. "Do I smell warmed croissant?"

      "You smell the last croissant," Parker corrected.

      "Agh, damn it," he huffed.

      McGee rolled his eyes and cocked his head at Torres. "We've told you before, Nick: You snooze, you lose."

      "But I wasn't snoozing! I was working. Ish."

      "Well, you're not gonna guilt me into giving you the last bite," Knight stated. She shoved said bite into her mouth for good measure. A bit of chewing later, she continued, "I think Parker and I deserved the last croissant, anyway. We had to deal with those teenagers."

      "I think you meant 'were almost blown up,'" Parker corrected with a quirked eyebrow.

      "And that was a regular possibility in my REACT days," she reminded him. She shook her head. "Those kids were slippery. They scattered like a school of fish the moment a shark arrives."

      All three men stared at her.

      "What?"

      Torres scratched his chin. "Speaking of things in the water… I wouldn't mind helping out the Pearl Harbor office again."

      Parker snorted. "Done yearning for croissant already?"

      "Eh, just daydreaming about malasadas now."

      The team leader nodded appreciatively. "Those were some good malasadas you brought back," he said, though he directed that at Knight, who'd actually remembered to buy them.

      She smiled. "Honestly? I wouldn't mind helping them out again, too. Not just—I mean, sister office, of course. But it's really lovely out there."

      …huh. Not what Parker might've expected to hear, especially after her reaction on the flight to the Stargazer. Did that make something in the Pacific different or—? But he paused here, because this train of thought reminded him of other questions that had popped into his head the night Knight had revealed herself to him.

      It was one thing to let a joke or brief comment slide at the office, but Parker still felt it too risky to discuss Knight's identity at the office. And what he had in mind wouldn't work this time in the car…

      The only thing was timing. On a day that had them inside and primarily tied to their desks, Parker and Knight couldn't quite get away at the same time without catching interest.

      So he waited. After Torres had disappeared to the men's room and clearly McGee was squinting at lines of code, Parker looked to his right to catch Knight's eye.

      She sensed him right away.

      He motioned with jerk of his head, leaving Knight squinting at him in confusion. But Parker didn't wait, hopping up and heading for that back hallway Knight had tugged him to ages ago. Thankfully, she showed up seconds later.

      "Something up?" she asked.

      "Ah—" Parker closed his mouth while he found the right words. He hadn't thought this far ahead. "Well…I admit, I still have a lot of questions about things," he said, scratching the back of his head but being ambiguous on purpose for the sake of any eavesdroppers.

      Knight smiled her thanks. "Yeah, I figured as much. Work's made it a little hard to…"

      "Yeah."

      "Yeah."

      Parker softly snorted. Might as well go for the idea he figured would make Knight most comfortable: "How about my place? A bite and some beer, far from orange walls with ears."

      The dim light in this back hallway hadn't changed at all. But he'd studied Knight so much, he was so familiar with that soft beige complexion, that he noticed the second twin patches of coral pink blossomed on her cheeks. She blinked at him, but her smile remained. "O-Oh. Uh, yeah. That sounds great. What time should I be over?"

      He was glad. "Today seems like normal fair, so we should get out at a decent hour… Seven all right?"

      "Yeah. Seven's good."

      "Then I'll text you the address and see you at seven."

      Parker had just pulled the skillet off the burner when his doorbell rang that evening. He wiped his hands on a tea towel and checked his watch. Seven o'clock, on the dot. He smirked as he went to answer the door.

      Knight bounced on her sneakered heels, taking in the hallway when he opened the door. Her eyebrows jumped into her hairline, catching sight of his home over his shoulder. "Damn," she commented as she entered. "I thought this place looked nice on the outside, and even my way up was eye-opening. But the penthouse?" She whistled.

      "I've been here a while, plus I knew a guy," Parker admitted. He gestured to the hooks inside the door for her to hang her purse, and he observed that Knight had traded in her usual blouse and pantsuit for a slouchy tee and jeans. He chuckled to himself, since this comfy version of Knight went well with the relaxed bits of herself she'd been sharing with him lately. Parker returned his attention to her, though, when she wandered around after kicking off her shoes by the door, peeking at this and that. "Want the tour?"

      Knight stopped at his couch and turned partway back to him. "Yes, please" was evident in the brightness of her eyes.

      Parker ran a hand through his hair but caved. He curved a finger for her to follow him as they made a quick circle. "Down the hallway is a guestroom, my room, a few spare closets for storage, and the bathroom." He motioned with his chin between the living room and his kitchen. "Entertainment area, as you might've guessed, and an eat-in kitchen. I've technically got a proper dining room in this place, but I never have enough company over to put it to use."

      She bit her lower lip, but the pitying pinch between her brows couldn't hide the upward curve of her lips.

      Parker settled her with a sidelong look. "If you have thoughts of having everyone hang out over here every once in a while, think again."

      Now she laughed. But Knight gasped when they stepped into his favorite room. "Holy—! I thought you seemed to have quite a few plants around your place. But a whole greenhouse, Parker?!"

      She roamed inside and he shrugged, but he liked that reaction, truthfully. "Keeps my hands busy when my mind's preoccupied," he remarked.

      Knight drifted her fingers over the herbs sitting in pots on the ledge abutting the glass wall. "Your mind still preoccupied by a lot nowadays?"

      Ah, right. That had been his word choice during the Miller case, shortly before the truth had come forward. Parker rolled his head from side to side and picked at a pilled thread on the front of his knit shirt. "…nah. Not preoccupied. Just—intrigued."

      "Uh-huh." Knight snickered and finished her round of the greenhouse. "'Intrigued' is definitely the word I'd use right now. A penthouse filled with all this—I mean, all you're missing is an indoor pool."

      That earned her a dry look. But… He led her back to the main hallway, down to the second door on the right, and showed her the bathroom, complete with a large, restored clawfoot tub. "It's big enough, if someone decided she needed a dip," he stated, leaning on the door handle while Knight knelt and admired the porcelain tub up close.

      "Uh-huh…," she repeated.

      "Actually, that's partly why I wanted to have you over."

      Knight locked eyes with him. She laughed as warmth crept up his neck and she visibly reddened at the same time. "You kinda just race to the finish line, don't ya, Parker? Not even gonna wine and dine me first?"

      Parker dragged his free hand over his face. "No! Look, Knight—Jess—" He stopped to huff at her, and he shot her a tiny glare when she stifled another laugh. "I have more questions. And concerns. And I want you to be someplace comfortable, in whatever form comfortable, to discuss them."

      Her expression softened, and Knight straightened up. "…oh. Thank you…Alden."

      "And we can eat now. I figure our filets have been resting long enough."

      She nodded. This time, when she followed him to the kitchen, it was in closer proximity, only half a step behind him.

      He felt her eyes on his back while he plated slices of steak, mixed greens, and rice, but they ate and drank in companionable silence for a few minutes. Parker realized Knight's gaze had moved to his face.

      She smiled. "You said you had questions," she reminded him, in the middle of stabbing some arugula. "Pick one to start."

      Parker wiped his mouth and took another swig of his beer. Sitting across from Knight at his eat-in counter, though, reminded him a little of sitting beside her at the office. "You were talking about heading to Hawaii again, if the chance arose."

      Knight blinked in surprise but nodded. "If I could, yeah."

      "Isn't that…an issue?"

      "How so?"

      He furrowed his brow. "I still don't understand how—agh, I don't have a better way to phrase this—but how you're supposed to…work. Out here, we might be on the coast, but we're not surrounded by water the way Hawaii is. Isn't it a problem if you end up in water?" Parker rubbed his brow, his brain working overtime trying to figure this out on his own.

      Knight chewed a bite of steak slower and washed it down with some beer. Then she put her fork down. "I think my freak-out above the Stargazer is not exactly representative of how things work…" She mustered half a smile for him. "I can still transform, for now, yeah. But it takes the right conditions, Alden. It rains plenty here in D.C. in spring and sometimes fall, right? Nothing happens if I simply get drenched," Knight explained, and she reached across the counter to pat the back of his hand. "Rain's never an issue. I can swim in a pool, too. But if I'm in open water, living water—"

      That was an odd turn of phrase. "'Living water'?" he echoed.

      "Like ponds, lakes, streams, rivers, the ocean. Not manmade, and large enough to contain me. Only then can I retain my mer form."

      That did clarify her fear during the Stargazer case, though. Not only would she have revealed herself to Parker, but she would've outed herself to Torres and Palmer, too. "…you had a lot to risk for that ghost ship."

      Knight nodded. "It's one thing, reconnecting with someone I saved a long time ago." She paused and squeezed his hand. Then she withdrew it. "But risking my secret with so many of you all at once? Despite my bonds with Nick and Jimmy…it was a lot to weigh."

      While she pushed her food around on her plate, Parker stared at his bottle. Then he asked, "Why now? What made you choose to confirm my suspicions about you now, instead of letting me think I'd gone—prematurely senile?"

      Her fork screeched against her plate, and Knight set it down again. She pursed her lips in a tiny, smug smile and reached across to pat his scruffy cheek. "I could see it in your eyes, that what makes you a good investigator meant you weren't going to let this trail go cold either. And…part of me wanted to see what happened, finally interacting with someone I saved and having a confidant."

      He raised one contrary eyebrow as they both found their appetites again. "You say that, forgetting all the people you saved as a REACT agent."

      "It's not the same," Knight said between bites. "Plenty of people know I was a REACT agent. But this? It's just you and me. And your plants. But, good listeners they may be, I don't think they'll tell anyone anytime soon." She grinned.

      Parker didn't have a retort for that. So he did that scoff-chuckle of his and tried to hide his own amused grin.

      After finishing her own plate (and even picking a little from his), Knight retired to the armchair in his living room with a second beer in hand, chatting with him while Parker cleared the dishes. She'd just gotten done assuring him that she had a secret alcove in Hawaii no one else knew about, where she'd last been for "a dip" seven years ago since her and Torres' recent assistance in Pearl Harbor hadn't allowed for a visit, when Parker realized Knight's words trailed off. A quick look informed him that, after eating well, she'd dozed off.

      Parker leaned on the counter and enjoyed the scene for a moment. After making her panicky yet again tonight, he was happy to see her able to let her guard down and relax. Carrying her secret had been a heavy load for him all this time; he daren't imagine the weight it was on her shoulders before now.

      He returned to the sink and washed things by hand, letting tonight's new information marinate. Knight had shared quite a bit tonight, and it got him thinking of sharing secrets more generally.

      Not only having but sharing secrets was such a tremendous task, and not something easily done. Time and history had proven that him, through failed relationships and soured friendships. However…

      Parker set the rinsed plates to dry and turned back to the sleeping beauty in his living room.

      It was nice, he conceded, to find someone to share the weight of secrets, to have a confidant, at last.

      Knight coming over to his place wasn't a one-time-only deal. She continued to drop by on occasion for "a bite and a beer," even without Parker prompting and even without the need to discuss more mermaid lore.

      …yeah, so Parker had warned Knight off the idea of having their friends over and breaking in the dining room (for now, she joked). But he could definitely get used to the sight of Knight across his counter while they ate, even if she didn't nod off in the living room after dinner every time. (Sometimes, she mosied out to the greenhouse before Parker found her.)

      As Parker's primary concerns settled, so did their caseload, which seemed fortunate as spring ended and rains ushered in a humid summer. "Is it just me or does it seem as though this stuff isn't letting up these days?" he quipped at the window in the bullpen.

      The other three glanced at the window, too (he could see them faintly in the glass' reflection), and McGee sighed. "No. I know the saying is 'April showers bring Mayflowers,' but the meteorologists were saying this will probably continue for a few weeks before there's a break."

      Parker faced his team and involuntarily flicked his eyes towards Knight. But he forced his attention back to his mug of tea. Right. Knight had assured him that rain wasn't an issue for her.

      As if he needed a physical reminder to solidify that fact in his brain, a downpour caught everyone the next morning. Parker was the first one in, and the other three texted him that they were all running late.

      Knight, however, was the first of those three to make it in, and she was soaked through from head to toe. She stepped off the elevator, unamused, but she had a small laugh at herself when she met Parker in the bullpen, and she turned around in a circle, showing off her very much still human form.

      Parker, though, was reminded of the day they met, with Knight's hair floating all around her then and clinging to her face (like seaweed) now. The comparison caught him off-guard, as did the thud of his heart in his chest. But he rubbed the ache away and passed Knight a clean towel, which she gratefully accepted.

      The weather worsened, as McGee had said, and they each received weather alerts on Bandium over the next several days. Push notifications went out for heavy rain, severe thunderstorms, and the potential for hurricane-force winds.

      "We're not really thinking of working if a hurricane lands, are we?" Torres murmured Friday morning. Outside, the sky was dark enough to look like eight o'clock at night.

      Parker shared a look each with Knight and McGee. "There are certain protocols in place, based on what the Southeast office survived in the midst of Katrina." Their phones chirped in a round, Bandium's soft bloops echoing amongst their desks. "Aaand there's a body. Can't worry about tomorrow when we've got today on our hands, Torres. C'mon, dead civilian on a naval base."

      If only it had been a dead civilian on a naval base.

      Of course a dead civilian didn't make sense, but Palmer rolled their beefy brute of a victim over at the scene only to find a Petty Officer's I.D. wedged underneath him in the muck. "Petty Officer Serena Schmidt," Palmer read as he passed it to Torres.

      There wasn't much to gather from the scene, especially with the rain washing evidence away while they stood there, so the guys helped the medical examiner load the body while Knight snapped as many photos as she reasonably could in the doom and gloom.

      Back at the office, though, while they waited for Palmer's autopsy report, McGee and Torres turned up news on their Petty Officer. "Assigned to mess hall duties two months ago," Torres said, "after clerking didn't quite work out."

      "She's been cited for temperament issues, but fellow sailors spoke highly of her, so she was given a second chance," McGee added. "Except her C.O. is rethinking that second chance. Schmidt didn't report to duty this morning and hasn't been seen since last night, apparently."

      "Wait," Parker said. "So we have a dead civilian with scant evidence because of a downpour and a missing sailor in this storm?"

      Their day did not get better from there. With Parker on the line trying to speaking to Schmidt's commanding officer and round up base security for a remote interview over MTAC, McGee and Torres digging into Schmidt's record and her comrades' interactions with her, and Knight doing a deep dive into Schmidt's personal life, they had their hands full for the rest of the morning and the better part of the afternoon.

      A collective groan reverberated amongst them shortly before lunch, since Schmidt's background was all-American cheerleader and clean. Parker stared at his desk phone, willing it to ring with Palmer's call that he was ready for one of them down in Autopsy.

      But, when a phone did ring, it was Knight's. All four of them sat up, alert, as Knight answered. "Special Agent Knight. Uh-huh. Yeah, Serena Schmidt—wait, their what? Got it." She hung up and stood, holstering her weapon and reaching for her jacket. "That was the tip line."

      Parker, McGee, and Torres grabbed their gear without delay. "Schmidt turn up?" Parker asked.

      "Worse. Schmidt's parents called. Her younger brother didn't show up for school today."

      "Where to?" Torres asked as they filed into the elevator.

      "Tappahannock, Virginia. Southeast of Fredericksburg."

      Downstairs, they split up into the usual duos—McGee and Torres in the SUV, Parker and Knight leading in the sedan—and Parker had Knight drive while he greased wheels with local authorities to let them know they were coming. After, he dropped his phone in his lap and rubbed his knuckles against his chin.

      Knight kept her eyes on the road between swipes of the windshield wipers. "Penny for your thoughts?"

      Parker grimaced. "Mm, it's nothing."

      "Alden."

      He pursed his lips. "…it's a bit of a flashback for me, Jess. Granted, Lauren's an admiral now and definitely was not a Petty Officer at the time, but." He rubbed his brow. "A sister in search of her younger brother," Parker pointed out, even though it was only an educated guess that the Schmidts' situation mirrored his own.

      When it was safe to do so, Knight took her right hand off the wheel and found his left hand resting on his leg. She threaded their fingers together and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "I found you back then. We'll find him now," she promised.

      Parker squeezed her hand back. He didn't trust his voice right now, wasn't ready to believe in that promise. Not when the weather in 1973 had been beautiful and deafening thunder cracked overhead now.

      The MCRT met the local sheriff at the Schmidt family home. McGee broke the news of Petty Officer Schmidt's unknown whereabouts, but Mr. Schmidt said he'd had a call from their daughter first thing that morning, saying she'd visit them soon.

      Outside, the team conversed. "That makes no sense. Schmidt's not due to leave the base for another three weeks, when her scheduled vacation kicks in," Torres said.

      One of the sheriff's deputies jogged up to them then and addressed the NCIS agents and the sheriff at once. "The BOLO—out on—Petty Officer Schmidt—she was seen half a mile from the boarding school, downtown," he finished when he caught his breath.

      The team exchanged looks. The Schmidts had said their son was a public school student—but that was a piece of the puzzle to be solved after they brought in their sailor safe and sound. "Lead the way, sheriff," Parker instructed the local officer.

      The sheriff navigated them through the waterlogged streets, which were mostly absent of traffic. They hit a snag with a downed powerline at the turn for the boarding school and had to backtrack a quarter mile, but they met up with another officer ten minutes later, and their witness who identified Schmidt pointed back into the woods heading towards the river.

      Parker and the others got out to scan the tree line. "I don't think the boarding school has anything to do with this mystery," he groused.

      Torres nodded and led the way into the brush, and McGee asked the sheriff to round up some officers to assist with the search. But Knight fell back with Parker and put a hand on his arm. "Alden, I don't like the look of that water," she warned.

      He glanced at her and followed her line of sight beyond the trees where things sloped down into the Rappahannock. The river was lively and flowing only a few inches below the bank's edge. "No…I don't either."

      Behind them, off to their left, a woman screamed. A second later, McGee shouted, "Parker!"

      Parker and Knight ran in his direction, Torres and the sheriff meeting them on the way. They found McGee with Petty Officer Schmidt in his arms, the blonde muddied and crumpled against their pale friend, tears clearing paths down her filthy face, sobs shaking her whole body.

      "Tim, what's she saying?" Torres asked.

      McGee's expression was stony when he met Torres' eyes. "…her brother. Our dead civilian is a drug dealer trying to push product through the base via access in the mess hall. When Schmidt tried to cut that access off, he threatened her family. He warned her that he'd have her brother dropped off here."

      Parker's blood chilled. "Any sign of him?"

      Schmidt gasped for breath and nodded. "H-H-His backpack. Simon's a good kid!! He doesn't skip homework, remembers his stuff—he—" A new wave of tears swallowed her words.

      Parker turned to the sheriff. "Fan out. Look for signs this kid is here and hanging on. Now!" he barked when the sheriff dillydallied.

      Lightning lit up the midday sky, followed by a shattering round of thunder seconds later. They each pulled out their flashlights to better search, but the sky darkened more and the water rose higher.

      Their flashlights' beams swept the Rappahannock's waters and turned up nothing. Torres found a green shoe, in a kid's size, but that only impressed upon them the sense of urgency.

      Knight tugged Parker back when a crack of thunder made him jumpy, and his footing slipped near the edge of the riverbank. She pulled him close. "This is getting us nowhere."

      "We don't have any options, and I'm not giving up on this kid."

      Knight nodded and stared up at him. "I don't like this weather, and I don't like that water. But…I told you." She lowered her voice (as if she really need to, in this maelstrom). "I can still transform. I only have a few more transformations left, anyway," she added with a scan of the river.

      That addition caught him unawares. Parker's face fell. "And then what, Jess?"

      "…"

      "And then what?!"

      "Parker!" Torres shouted. "Simon, he's heading your way!"

      They both turned. At first, Parker saw nothing. But then lightning flashed, and another fair head like Schmidt's broke the surface. Simon Schmidt thrashed to keep his head above the water, but it was a struggle he'd fail before much longer.

      He didn't even have to think about it. Parker dropped his flashlight and pushed Knight aside, running to the edge of the river and jumping in himself after Simon. This kid needed to be saved, but, just as important to Parker, Knight could not risk her humanity, not now, not when he didn't know what "a few more transformations left" meant, not when he didn't know what came after she used them up—

      —not when he and Knight had only just now found each other again, damn it all!

      He'd been a shit swimmer as a kid, but he'd worked hard to rectify that as an adult (after all, they didn't let someone without basic survival skills become law enforcement). But…but…the current of the Rappahannock River today was just as strong as the ocean was back when Parker himself was little older than Simon—just as strong, if not stronger…

      He hadn't thought this through. Parker had jumped in with good intentions, but good intentions wouldn't help him and the kid make it out alive.

      Parker got hold of Simon, but Simon had been in these raging waters just long enough to make him slippery. Parker's grip started to slip, and he tried to wind the kid's shirt around his fist, but the waters pulled them apart, and Parker…Parker started to go under himself.

      Panic brought to mind a flash of the first time he went under, that evening in Enoshima. But it was worse this time, because at least he'd been able to see partly in the angry yet clear waters back then.

      A moment later, Parker's head cleared the surface fully—and he knew why, when he felt familiar arms around him. He twisted his head to catch a glimpse of her, and there Knight was, towing both him and Simon to the bank's edge.

      Torres and McGee ran to their aid. Torres yanked Simon out and carried him off to find paramedics, while McGee helped pull Parker onto land. Knight partially heaved herself onto the edge, as well, but—with McGee on his other side and out of view—she grabbed Parker's ankle and jerked her head towards the water.

      Parker craned his neck and spied a flick of coppery fin peeking through the chaotic surface. Oh, shit. They'd have a bigger issue if anyone saw that, so he ignored McGee's bewildered expression when Parker unzipped his NCIS jacket and shoved it behind him towards Knight. The second Torres called for McGee, though, McGee left Parker and Knight alone, and Parker checked on her. "You good?"

      Knight had his jacket covering her "legs" for now. She nodded and rested her head against his thigh when he scooted down beside her. "Yeah. I need to rest for a bit and get them back under control."

      "So I don't need to find a tank to transport you home?"

      She pinched his thigh. "No. It's been a while, Alden, so it's like being out of practice. Just help a girl out and keep prying eyes away, all right?"

      "I will do my best," he promised. He brushed some mud off her cheekbone and out of her hair (ah, that thud in his chest happened again) before getting up and checking on the brother and sister.

      …granted, Knight took close to twenty minutes getting her tail under control, and keeping others away while assuring them she wasn't injured was a new challenge for Parker. At least Petty Officer Schmidt and her brother accepted that they could thank the agent responsible for Simon's safety later on. But McGee and Torres were Parker-levels of skeptical that Knight didn't need to see the paramedics after pulling both the boy and Parker to safety, especially if she'd exhausted herself so thoroughly.

      "Besides, I thought Knight had been a Division I track athlete, not a swimmer, at university," Torres pointed out while they waited by their cars. He and McGee perked up, though, and Parker turned as Knight walked towards them, all smiles.

      Parker scoff-chuckled. "Eh, we're each allowed to have more than one hidden talent, Torres."

      It hadn't been as apparent on the drive back, given their separate vehicles. But it was absolutely obvious back at the office: Parker and Knight stank and needed showers ASAP.

      McGee politely coughed in the elevator while Torres made gagging sounds, so they were first off the elevator when it arrived on their floor. But Parker and Knight remained, and the doors closed behind their friends, leaving the two of them alone.

      Parker flipped the emergency stop switch. The other two might've had the stench on their minds, but Parker had spent the entire drive back thinking about what had happened at the river instead. "So."

      Knight shifted on her feet. Her feet squelched inside her boots. "So."

      He briefly closed his eyes, replaying in his mind's eye what she'd sprung on him in the heat of the moment. "Jess. How many transformations do you have left?"

      "I don't know."

      He shook his head at her. "Jess."

      "I don't know! I've saved a lot of people in my lifetime, Alden. And I'll save as many more as I possibly can. With—or without—scales."

      As stubborn as ever…not that he wanted her to change, he mused, resigned. "… …so your powers…they fade, the longer you choose to be human," he inferred.

      "Yeah."

      Parker swallowed an anxious lump in his throat. He almost couldn't bear to voice his next thoughts, but he had to know. "…and…your lifespan? Does your—your immortality fade, too?"

      Knight faced him with a look of incredulity. "Alden, I never said we were immortal. We live really long lives, yeah. But we're not immortal. I'll…age pretty normally, after." She touched his mud-caked whiskers with her muddy hands, holding his face, and smiled. "I've never regretted walking amongst humans, though. Especially now. I saved people in both forms, but…this is the first time I've saved someone twice. I have a feeling you might need me time and again," she joked.

      He pouted at the implication.

      She frowned, too. "Are you disappointed I'm not going to be the mermaid of your dreams much longer?"

      Parker blinked, but he rested his forehead against hers and sighed. "I'd be lying if I said I was never interested in that side of you…but there's a helluva lot more to you than just a tail that has me fascinated by you, Jess. And I'm relieved to know you'll be sticking around."

      How funny. They had no moonlight in here, but even the emergency lights gave away the hint of her otherworldliness, because her eyes were still very much iridescent when they sparkled at his words. "Really?" Knight asked, brushing her nose against his.

      "Really," Parker confirmed. He punctuated the moment by resting his hands on her waist and leaning down a hair more to press his lips to hers, tasting their promise and a hint of the salty sea.

      …unfortunately for them, the lights flipped back to normal and the doors slid open, where McGee and Torres awaited them on the other side. Those two cleared their throats while Parker and Knight pulled apart.

      Parker glanced at the emergency switch—ah, shit, he must've hit it with his elbow—and his eyes darted back to their interloping friends.

      "I admit, we were just looking for you two to help us straighten out the Schmidt parents' statements," Torres said with a mischievous grin. He waved in front of him and McGee. "But look at what we found instead. Thought you two smelled bad before, but this smells pretty fishy to me now."

      Knight tensed beside Parker, but he placed a reassuring hand at the small of her back. Parker snorted at Torres and flicked his fingers at them for them to make way. "Yeah, yeah. Don't get crabby just 'cuz you didn't know."

      Torres gawked in mock-offense, but McGee finally recovered, mumbling, "Well, it might explain the odd sense of humor they share…"

      At that, Parker raised his eyebrows and coaxed a grin from Knight before they all returned to their desks.

      Still, McGee scratched his head. He looked from Parker to Knight and back. "But, ah, just how and when did this…?"

      Parker and Knight exchanged a look, and Knight scrunched up her nose and offered him a friendly smile. "That," she began, "is a fairytale for another day, Tim. Paperwork first, yeah?"

Done for the If You Dare Challenge (for prompt #3: moonstruck) in the HPFC forum on FFN as well as the Year of the OTP (May prompts: "who are you?", sunshine, and [mild] fantasy AU) on tumblr. HI. HELLO. It's been a few months since I churned out a new Parknight oneshot! Partly bc I've been busy in my other fandoms (have you heard of Harvestella? :3c), partly bc I've been maintaining the parknights tumblr (come check it out!). I have plenty of Parknight ideas, including some chaptered AUs in the works, but this idea blindsided me at the last minute bc Mermay. I've only ever drawn for Mermay before, but, once I got this idea, I just had to go for it. From including more Parker-centric headcanons (also, I dig Japan, so getting to use a setting there is always fun for me) to gaslighting Parker (oops) to weaving in canon (dialogue was paraphrased/rephrased from s19e8, and taken straight from eps 10 & 11, too) and ofc having Parknight romance (bc I love them LOTS), this was a wild ride and a blast. There was foreshadowing of certain events, but I wanted to have a circle ending, where Knight rescued him again. They met by chance and met again by chance and befriended each other and fell in love~ (Altho a part of me thinks young Alden mighta had a little love-at-first-sight with the pretty mermaid in Japan, *LOL*.) Idk. I have written a mermaid AU story before, but not like this, and, while not my first creature/fantasy AU for Parknight (and certainly not my last…check in with me next Halloween B3c *mew has plans*), I promise my upcoming chaptered AUs will be more normal. XDDD Additional thoughts: There are some Easter eggs for other fics of mine, both Parknight and not (the jogging path felt like a reference to "Evals" and an early phrase in this fic—I have an actual story titled "Kissing the Sea" in another fandom :D). I got to include some more Parker family hcs, altho I've worked in Parker as the baby of his fam elsewhere before. Regarding his FBI cases…if anyone caught it, that's deffo a hint that, aside from mermaids, there are likely fae running amok, *lol* (I love a good Fair Folk inclusion XD), but Parker can barely handle one mermaid in his life, so let's not open that can of worms…this time. B3c [I actually had one detail about Knight's background that ended up being extraneous for the story, which was already plenty long, but I've saved it for a potential rainy day.] And regarding the s19 as the main backdrop—well, a lot of Parknight's natural chemistry emerged from their pairing up on the regular, dating back to here, not to mention he does talk most openly with her. Did I ignore the s19 finale? You bet! Am I done rewriting s19 scenes? Hell no!!! 8D *ASDFGHJKL* I just rly dig Parknight, and if you do, too, or enjoyed this story, then REVIEW/COMMENT!!! And then come join the Parknight fun~

Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave an anon/unsigned review via the FFN link or comment via the AO3 link at the top of the post, especially if you enjoyed this!

~mew

[edgy-ella]

Water Boiling on the Seafloor

While travelling via submarine to Egypt, Polnareff has a little chat with Avdol about the whole "faking his death" thing.

Word count: 2,453

Pairings: Jean Pierre Polnareff/Mohammed Avdol (platonic, but could be read as romantic)

Tags: Angst, Reconciliation, Survivor's Guilt

Never in a million years did Polnareff think that hunting down the man with two right hands would lead to him travelling to Egypt in a god damn submarine. Hell, he didn't think that he'd ever ride a submarine, period. Then again, he never would have thought that his friends would lie to him about one of them dying, so maybe he just wasn't cut out to be a fortune teller.

Unlike the man sitting directly across from him.

Polnareff maintained a glare sharper than Chariot's rapier on Avdol, who was casually chatting with Kakyoin in a language he didn't understand. Japanese, probably? Who knew. He was tired, damn tired, the bags under his eyes were probably bigger than his hair, but the frustration swimming around in his skull forced him to stay awake. All of the joyous relief that Avdol's alive, he's alive and well, I didn't get him killed on my path to revenge had fizzled out, the baffled excitement about getting to ride in a submarine now buried deeper in the back of his mind than they currently were in the ocean. Avdol had been alive the whole time, and not once did he ever stop to think, "maybe I should tell Polnareff that I'm okay?" Or worse yet, that he did stop to think that, but decided against it. Sure, the group had said that it was to keep him from accidentally revealing to the enemy that Avdol was alive and recovering, but he could keep a secret just fine where it mattered! He'd played along with Jotaro's "Qtaro" plan back in that old ghost town, hadn't he?

On top of all that, what was the point of Avdol pretending to be his own father once they got to the island? The place was abandoned, that was the whole point of going there. All pretenses should have been dropped by then. So why keep up the act? And not just Avdol, why did everyone play along too? Even Jotaro "I have the emotional intelligence of a pot of boiling water" Kujo? To guilt trip him?

Real classy there, guys, Polnareff thought, snorting out his nose.

He folded his arms and shifted in his seat, still staring daggers at the seemingly oblivious Avdol (or maybe he was just messing with him again, who knew). The submarine was surprisingly comfy, at least for how comfy a submarine could be. Though stuck stationary on the floor, the chairs were cushioned and spaced out far enough that no one invaded anyone else's personal bubble. It had plenty of amenities; including a fridge, coffee maker, and even a telephone. Circular windows lined the walls, giving a breathtaking view of the ocean floor. Polnareff probably would have been ogling out of it alongside Jotaro—or at least questioning the grumpy teenager on his sudden interest with all the different types of aquatic life—but unfortunately, he was in no mood to sightsee.

"...wouldn't you agree, Polnareff?"

Polnareff's low scowl shot up into a slightly more neutral (but still clearly irritated) expression when he heard Avdol say his name. Avdol and Kakyoin were staring back at him from the other end of the table with expectant looks on their faces, Avdol's more of a warm smile and Kakyoin's more of a smug grin. If the conversation had shifted back to English at some point, Polnareff hadn't been paying enough attention to notice. He didn't even have the slightest idea what they were talking about. Nor was he in any mood to join in with them.

With a long sigh, Polnareff shrugged and rested his forehead on the base of his hand, wrist bent. "Sure," he mumbled out.

Just as soon as Polnareff's eyes began to flutter shut, he heard Kakyoin's distinct stifled chuckles through the white noise of the submarine's engine.

That was the last straw.

Polnareff's fierce glower came back in full force as shot up from his seat, slamming his hands down on the table. The resulting BOOM! echoed throughout the submarine, catching the attention of everyone else aboard. Avdol and Kakyoin both jumped in their seats, their previously affable expressions startled clean off their faces, Jotaro momentarily glanced in his direction, and Mr. Joestar, who was using the telephone, frowned at him and put his hand on the phone's speaker.

"Polnareff! Keep it down, would you? This is a serious phone call!" Mr. Joestar's lecture was somewhere between his usual gravelly yell and a hushed whisper through gritted teeth.

Usually, Polnareff tried to look Mr. Joestar head on when he addressed him, if only to respect his elders. Now, though, he couldn't find it within himself to do so. However, hearing Mr. Joestar's stern tone brought him back to reality. They were this close to reaching Egypt, the last thing they needed now was to start fighting with each other.

That being said, Polnareff knew he was going to blow a gasket if he stayed with the group for any longer.

"I have to go to the bathroom," he lied.

Polnareff turned on his heels and marched down the hall towards the other end of the submarine. The sound of his footsteps clanging against the metal floor filled the air. Was there even a bathroom back there? Even if there was, even if he had to go, there was no way in hell Polnareff was using it. Even if Avdol had bought the submarine yesterday brand new, Polnareff knew that with his luck the toilet seat would be made out of live shrimp or something like that.

Eventually, Polnareff stopped somewhere in the middle of the submarine's long, narrow hallway. He leaned against the wall, putting his weight on his shoulder rather than the side of his face to avoid messing with his hair. His muscles felt tense, like a bunch of rubber bands stretched to their limits. Somewhere behind him, he vaguely heard everyone else speak amongst themselves in a hushed tone. Probably discussing the next way they'd lie to him, he figured.

Then, he heard another set of footsteps creep down the hallway, approaching him. Not Kakyoin's, he could tell from the stride. Not Mr. Joestar's, Polnareff could still faintly hear him on the phone back in the room. Not Jotaro's, he more wouldn't have had a reason to follow him. That left only... 

"You seem irritable," Avdol commented.

(To read the rest of the fic, check it out on AO3!)

[ladylilithprime]

When The Time Is Right

Series: Fluffy Faerie Tales

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Sastimmy/Jamstiel (Jimmy Novak/Sam Winchester/Castiel)

Rating: Teen and Up

Tags/Warnings: Half-Fae Sam Winchester, Jimmy and Castiel Are Twins, Selkie Jack Kline, Sam Winchester Is Jack Kline's Adopted Father, Brief Allusions to Canon-Typical Violence, Frank Discussions Of Sex (But No Actual Sex), Dean Winchester Being Bad At Feelings, Autistic Cas and Jimmy, Miscommunication, Threeway Relationships Require Threeway Consent, Discussions of Souls and Magic

Summary: Sam got hurt protecting Cas and Jimmy from alicorns. Alicorns are drawn to virgins. Dean blames Cas and Jimmy for Sam getting hurt. Therefore, Cas believes that to protect Sam from getting hurt because of them again, he and Jimmy need to no longer be virgins. Things do not go as planned.

For: @fluffyfebruary challenge!

Prompt: Day 27: Protect

Read on AO3

VIRGINITY WAS A social construct, or at least that had been the opinion of several of Cas and Jimmy's human classmates in college. They were frequently very quickly informed otherwise by their more magically-natured classmates, because while there really wasn't any sort of moral attachment to virginity or lack thereof, there was very much a magical aspect to the act of sexual congress and several different species who were specifically hardwired to be able to tell who among a gathering had or had not engaged in it for one reason or another, or had not engaged in certain types of sex. Dragons, for example, though according to Kevin that was because of the instinct to protect hatchlings and those too young for mating flights. Faeries, too, not that Sam had ever given any indication that he was aware of it until the subject could no longer be avoided. Because unicorns could also tell whether or not someone was a virgin, and so could their more carnivorous cousins.

And alicorns particularly liked the taste of virgins, whether they were tender little children or divinely created adult identical twins touched by fae magic.

"We've had sex, though," Jimmy couldn't help pointing out, a little shocky still as he sat next to Sam's hospital bed. "You should know since you were there for it...."

"Did we do it wrong?" Cas fretted, the fingers of his right hand tightly gripping Jimmy's left while his left hand gripped Sam's right.

"Absolutely not," Sam told them firmly. "The only way a person even can do it wrong is without consent or proper care for your partner and plenty of preparation and checking in. The problem," he added with a sigh, "is that an alicorn's definition of virginity is penetrative. It's a bit of a focal point for them, case in point and pun intended."

He gestured towards his thoroughly packed and heavily bandaged left side below his rib cage where only hours before there had been a rather massive two foot long golden spiral horn thoroughly impaling him. With the good painkillers working their way through his system, Sam was even more blunt-spokenly honest than usual, and apparently inclined to joke now that it was obvious he would survive the incident. Jimmy and, to a greater extent thanks to having been the one almost impaled before Sam had physically intervened himself, Cas were less capable of seeing the humor in their lover being injured and hospitalized after very nearly dying in a fight to protect them.

"They could tell that we've never had penetrative sex," Cas stated even more flatly than his normal deadpan.

"Which is perfectly fine and entirely up to individual choice," Sam said firmly. "How do I put this.... you know how sometimes certain foods together makes the taste and texture too much of a sensory overload? Alicorns are kind of like that, only for them the taste and texture focus is the magical soul energy of their human victims. Penetrative sex mixes the metaphysical 'flavors' a lot more obviously than any other kind of sex, so for an alicorn's purposes that's what 'counts'."

"What about someone who got pregnant via artificial insemination methods?" Jimmy asked, his mind flashing in worry to Amelia. He hadn't given her a moment's thought until now, what with the risk of imminent death and Sam's potentially fatal injury, but now he felt the very real concern starting to rise up.

"Pregnancy is a kind of gray area already," Sam admitted with a grimace. "Usually the pregnant person got that way through sexual intercourse, and then there's the overlap of the bearer's soul energies with the very, very slowly coalescing soul energies of the baby. The soul doesn't even fully settle into the infant's body until around the time the umbilical cord stump drops off. So even if the bearer got pregnant through scientific methods instead of sexual, their taste to an alicorn would still seem, er, muddy." He paused, then added more gently. "Amelia, Donna, and Matt live on the mainland. The alicorns didn't even get onto the bridges."

"You're sure?" Jimmy bit his lower lip, hating the insecurity that could make him doubt Sam's word even though he knew his boyfriend couldn't lie, but needing the reassurance anyway.

"Meg gave me a full report of what Balt reported to her to keep my mind off her patching me back together," Sam obligingly reassured him. "And while Donna's a sheriff, she was not among the people listed as injured and there were mercifully no fatalities. I'm as sure as I can be while sitting in this bed without a phone to call them."

Calling them had to wait until the brothers could get Sam safely discharged from the hospital - against medical advice, technically, but then both Meg and Dr Argall had bargained with Sam for a full week of bed rest with absolutely no strenuous activity in exchange for being allowed to convalesce at home - and back to the magically expanded apartment above Lighthouse CommodiTeas. And then Dean had arrived. That so-called "conversation" had resulted in Cas going nonverbal for four hours and nearly had Sam violating his bargain with Meg and their doctor to get up and physically eject Dean from the apartment over the cafe while Jimmy did his best to distract Jack (and himself) in the kitchen from the yelling.

Cas was able to talk again by the time Jack had been put to bed, but he was still reduced to a scant handful of words at a time. Jimmy's practice with translating was put to the test as they worked out the plan for covering the cafe while Sam was both stuck in bed and in need of someone to stay home with him. One thing they all agreed was that it was important to have at least one able-bodied adult in the apartment with Sam both day and night to help him and be available to help Jack. This meant that their work schedules got rearranged a bit and Jimmy left briefly to drive over to his and Cas's apartment and collect their overnight bags. The question had been briefly raised about also digging out their sleeping bags, but Sam had assured them it wasn't necessary.

"I'm pretty much going to be living on this couch for the week," he told them. "If you don't mind sharing, you can both take my bed for the duration."

If Cas had any trouble falling asleep in Sam's bed with his scent surrounding them and their lover absent from the sheets, lying injured out on the couch, he didn't tell Jimmy about it. Likewise, Jimmy never mentioned how long he lay awake with his face buried in the pillow that smelled of sage and clover, and sandalwood and cinnamon just like Sam's favorite soap and shampoo, his ears straining for the slightest hint of distress from the living room. It left him feeling tired and cotton-headed the next morning as he made coffee on autopilot and then kicked himself and brought Sam tea with honey and milk. Cas left the apartment for the cafe's kitchen without bothering to stop for breakfast, which was a clear sign that he was still very bothered by something, but until he was ready to talk about it there wasn't much Jimmy could do to help his twin except be there for Sam while Cas was working and then take his own turn tomorrow.

Cas came upstairs after the lunch rush with two extra blueberry cream cheese danishes for Sam and Jimmy, and a determined expression. "We need to have penetrative sex."

"What?" Jimmy almost choked on the sandwich he was eating, and felt briefly grateful beyond words that Sam had already finished the broth-heavy chicken and rice soup Jimmy had made and so couldn't do the same. He was still gaping wide-eyed at Cas, whose expression looked no less determined for the rush of pink suffusing his face.

"We need to have penetrative sex," he repeated, glancing over at Jimmy briefly before looking back to Sam. "The fact that we haven't made us vulnerable and put us at greater risk to the alicorns than if we had simply been out in public, which in turn put you at risk. I know better than to suggest that you not come to our defense, any more than Jimmy or I would agree to leave you vulnerable and undefended, and while we will certainly be much quicker to evacuate a danger zone in the future, the risk posed by our technical virginity is still there. It's a risk we can mitigate by having penetrative sex."

"No," Sam said - croaked, really - and shook his head.

"Not now, obviously," Cas said, holding up his hands. "Meg was very clear about what she meant by 'strenuous activity'."

"Cas," Jimmy started, trailing off when he realized that he didn't even know where to begin with this one. Clearly his twin had been thinking hard about this ever since the accusations Dean had flung at them before Cas had shut down and Jimmy had fled to the kitchen to distract Jack, maybe even since that conversation in the hospital, but that didn't stop it from coming out of left field for him!

"And it has to be with you, Sam," Cas went on, a hint of desperation entering his voice. "Even if Jimmy and I were comfortable engaging in sexual activity exclusively with each other, our souls are identical. Whatever transference of energy happens during sex wouldn't make a difference if it's just us."

"Emotions also play a large part in it," Sam reminded him, sounding rather strained. "And please believe me when I say that if you or Jimmy ever truly want to explore penetrative sex in either direction, I would absolutely be honored to participate... but not if the only reason you're asking is because you think of your virginity, technical as it is in this specific area, as a thing to get rid of because it might put me at risk."

"But... you got hurt protecting us," Cas argued, sounding so painfully small that Jimmy nearly whimpered. "For me. The alicorn was aiming for me, and you put yourself in its path and got hurt because of that."

"And I would do it again if the circumstances arose," Sam said firmly. "Even if we had been acting like Dean at a Bacchanalia festival before that night, I saw the two of you in danger and pinned down in that alley and I did my best to keep you safe. That I got injured right at that specific moment was unfortunate, but it could have happened at any point that night if one of the alicorns caught me off guard while fighting."

Now Jimmy couldn't stop the whimper from bursting free, clapping his hands over his mouth to muffle it. That was the least reassuring thing he had ever heard. That Sam could have been injured before, run through and still fighting somewhere alone without him and Cas there to call for help when the alicorns were dead and his strength gave out--

Sam's expression softened. "I didn't collapse in that alley because I ran out of strength, Jimmy," he said, breaking through the babbling words that Jimmy hadn't even realized he had been saying. "I collapsed from the relief of knowing that you and Cas were unharmed, that I had succeeded in protecting you."

"So you won't have penetrative sex with us... because you think we don't really want it?" Cas asked uncertainly.

"And because I don't want any time we have sex of any kind to be out of fear or obligation," Sam said dryly. "And I'm a lot more sensitive to the emotional resonances involved than an alicorn is to the technicalities."

"Oh," Cas winced, looking down at the carpet. "Sorry..."

"Hey," Sam murmured, holding out a hand. "Come here, both of you?"

Slowly, Cas and Jimmy approached. Cas tried to hang back a bit, but Jimmy nudged him forward to sit closest to Sam's upper body while Jimmy sat behind Cas and pulled him into his arms tight against his chest. Cas wrapped his hands around Jimmy's wrists, and Sam put his own hands over theirs.

"Listen to me closely, okay?" Sam said. "I love you. I love you, Cas, and I love you, Jimmy. And any time we do anything sexual, or even just quietly intimate like this... it's pure bliss, because I can feel how much you both love me, too. If one day either of you decide you really want to explore penetration in sex, that's fine. And if you don't and it never happens, that is equally fine. No pressure, ever. Okay?"

"Okay," the twins chorused. Jimmy felt Cas let go of his wrists with one hand and twist to catch one of Sam's. He lifted it to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to Sam's knuckles. "I don't like seeing you hurt," Cas murmured, "but I'm glad you're protecting us."

"It's my honor," Sam murmured back, and Jimmy knew their lover didn't mean just against the alicorns any more than Cas had.

[allexei]

nicholas galitzine + he/him + cis male – have you seen alexei rakov around los angeles? the twenty five year old is usually jamming to nervous by the neighbourhood. word around the city is that they’re compassionate, yet, they can also be sensitive, but you didn’t hear that from me. they’re currently a veterinary science student and a librarian and are typically seen walking the streets of los angeles with a backpack filled with books. when i think of them, i think of crying over being so stressed about school, dying your hair back and forth as a secret coping mechanism, the playing of multiple instruments but a strong love for the violin and piano. let’s hope the city treats them good!

basic stats ;

⟶ full name: alexei antonis nikos rakov ( first name pronounced ah-lek-say, or click here for pronunciation ) ⟶ nicknames: likes alexei, doesn't like when people try calling him alex, but is too nice to correct anyone who does ⟶ three things he likes: instruments of any kind, summers in greece, books ⟶ three things he dislikes: people who just want sex, slow wifi, the instability he’s felt his whole life ⟶ gender: cis male   ⟶ height: 6 ‘ 0 ⟶ age: 25 ⟶ birthday: february 19, 1998 ⟶ zodiac: pisces sun ( aquarius - pisces cusp, known as the ‘cusp of sensitivity’ ), cancer moon, virgo ascendant   ⟶ right handed or left handed: left handed   ⟶ eye color: hazel, shooting more towards green, shifts depending on the lighting ⟶ hair color: naturally blonde, constantly dyes it from blonde to black and back and forth ⟶ piercings and tattoos: left ear pierced, no tattoos ⟶ languages spoken: russian ( father’s native tongue ), greek ( mother’s native tongue ), spanish and english   ⟶ sexuality / romantic orientation: demisexual / homoromantic  ⟶ place of birth: manchester, england ⟶ last five songs listened to: time by pink floyd, vitamin c by can, für elise by beethoven, méditation from thaïs by massenet, happiness is a warm gun by the beatles ⟶ five aesthetics: the intense feeling of feeling unworthy of being loved by anyone, shirts stained with black hair dye, a soft british accent, a stack of homework, crying over things you have no control over ⟶ character inspo: prince willhelm from young royals, charlie spring from heartstopper, adam groff from sex education ( season 3 adam )

background story ;

✘ alexei was born on a cold night in manchester to nikola ganos and sergei rakov, two twenty year olds who fell in love through music. his mother was a famous piano player ( think maybe like yiruma or ludovico einaudi ) while his father was getting more of a name for himself as a cello player. both classical musicians who fell in love and had alexei, very unexpectedly 

✘ his parents are both really well off. his mother’s side owns one of the the biggest olives and olive oil brands worldwide, originated in greece, while his father’s side owns plenty of alcohol brands ( mostly vodka ) originated in russia but sold all across the world as well. they were young, but they knew their son would be coming into the world very well off financially, planned to give him the perfect childhood, even got married when he was merely five months old

✘ and for the first six years of alexei’s life, that’s what it was. two parents who were devoted to him and wanted to give him the best life possible in england, even though neither one of them were british. but as he went from six to seven, all that love his parents had for each other seemed to dissolve more and more each day. his beautiful early childhood turned into him listening to his parents fighting constantly, and even though he was so young, he couldn’t help but ask himself – where did my parents’ love for each other go?

✘ and if you guessed it, they ended up getting a divorce when he was barely seven, but the thing is… his parents weren’t like normal parents. it wasn’t the typical case of custody with one parent while the other has visiting rights, or even shared custody of 3 days a week here, and four days a week there, or even complete custody of him to just one parent, no, his parents were determined to fight for him until the bitter end

✘ it turned into a game of who alexei liked more, they couldn’t even stand to be in the same room together, and it was really difficult to tell a little kid ‘who do you love more?’ or ‘who do you want to live with more?’ or ‘you have to pick’ or even just his father trying to put him against his mother while his mother did the same thing to him with his father. sometimes, alexei felt like they didn’t even really love him, but just wanted to prove to the other that he could love one or the other more

✘ eventually, they settled for custody in the worst way possible. alexei would live with his mother for six months, then he would live with his father for six months, and maybe this wouldn’t be so awful if they both decided to stay in england, live maybe a city or two away from each other, but no, definitely not. they immediately left his birth place, his mother going back and forth between greece and spain, while his father traveled from canada to russia repeatedly, and well… this is what alexei’s life became

✘ maybe to some people, it might sound ideal. not staying in one place for too long, constantly moving from one city, knowing you wouldn’t be staying there for longer than six months, perhaps to any traveler, this is the dream life, but that certainly wasn’t the case for alexei

✘ this going back and forth put a serious strain in every aspect of his life. he would enroll in a school, make a friend or two, only to be ripped away from that scene for the following six months, halfway across the world, for the same thing to happen to him, over and over again

✘ and the worst part was that his parents didn’t seem to understand that it didn’t make him happy, all the going back and forth. he was unstable, he didn’t even know how to really talk to people at one point, because he knew deep down, that there was no use in trying to make any friends if it would just be taken away from him sooner or later

✘ basically, a loner. he spent most of his childhood to early teenage years dodging conversations, definitely ate his lunch in the bathroom vibes. the only consistency his parents had was their love for music, which, is the one thing that did make alexei happy. he was a virtuoso. from the piano, to the cello, to the bass, even the drums, saxophone and viola, he loved it all, though his true love was in the guitar, piano, and more especially, the violin. he grew a real love for mussic, had multiple instruments at his mother’s and multiple instruments at his father’s, again, the one consistency in his life

✘ while he wasn’t big on singing, he basically had the voice of an angel. could switch from a soft tone to a rather loud one, a male soprano range… truly a gift, tried to break glass to see if it was true and it in fact, wasn’t a myth ( at least in his case ). pretty much any orchestra teacher’s wet dream, a typical band nerd

✘ he also had a huge fascination for books, his favorite genre being sci fi, horror, or a good coming of age, but honestly, he read it all. nothing could fuel him more than a good book

✘ anyways, when he was sixteen, he convinced his parents to enroll him in a boarding school in northern california, very pca from zoey 101 vibes, and they surprisingly agreed since it was neither with his mother nor his father, but a spot in between. for the last two years of high school, he had some type of stability

✘ though, during his senior year, he became the talk of everyone through the most unfortunate event. simply put, alexei met a guy. at this time, he wasn’t even really sure of his sexuality. he knew he wasn’t straight, but he didn’t think it was just that. he felt like there was more depth to what he liked and didn’t like, but this guy managed to charm him. he was good looking and alexei enjoyed the fact that he smelled good. this was his first relationship ever. prior to this, he shared his first kiss when he was fifteen with a random girl near his mother’s house in athens, and simply put, he didn’t like it

✘ this was different though. he enjoyed kissing him, but he didn’t feel like doing anything else but that, and the more the guy insisted they take it further, the less inclined he felt to give him what he wanted. he liked him, but he didn’t feel a genuine bond with him

✘ alexei, however, is a people pleaser. he didn’t want to have sex with him even though at this point, they had been dating for well over two months. he didn’t know why he didn’t want to, he couldn’t pinpoint why having sex was such a weird and touchy subject for him, but basically, he felt, in a way, guilt tripped by this guy. it was the constant questioning of ‘why don’t you like me?’ or ‘what’s wrong with you?’ or even ‘i promise i’ll make it worth your while’ and one day, they both get drunk at a hotel, and even though alexei has been drunk plenty of times before, well, he caves, instantly lives to regret it

✘ the following day, as he’s walking towards his first class, people are whispering about him, not so discreetly pointing, giving him looks, and it takes him a matter of fifteen minutes from getting to his first period before one of his friends sends him a text message with a link attached, much to his horror. the message reads ‘is this you?’ with a link to a video. the video is them having sex the night prior

✘ he had filmed it all and posted without his consent. they were both of age, but it literally made alexei sick to his stomach. for one, he felt really used, as he never gave him permission to record anything, let post what they did, and two, he hated the attention this was getting him. he’s always been one to fly under the radar, and now this was all anyone was talking about, lost count over how many times he’s cried over this

✘ the following months reaching towards graduation are literal hell for him. the video gets to his parents which is quite literally his worst nightmare become a reality. legal action is taken and they thankfully manage to remove the video from the web completely, but the damage has already been done, he’s miserable. worst graduation ever, doesn’t even walk the stage because he’s just so humiliated, and for once in his damn life, he wishes he would have been in that constant moving back and forth life. maybe then, he could’ve ran away from the problem the second it started, sad boy hours, really

✘ after graduation, he gets out of california. for about two years, he just travels. ironic considering it’s something he didn’t like to do when he was younger, but at that point, he just wanted to get away from everything

✘ he’s twenty when he moves back to california. crazy, but even though he has bad memories, it was the one place he felt stable. he permanently moves to los angeles, southern cali, which is far from the school he graduated in, tells himself that here, no one knows what happened. perhaps this is a good thing about being rich, that he never really had to worry about money, it’s just always been there. a paid off apartment, a simple call to his mother or father and bam, money in his account, but truth be told, alexei didn’t want to live off his family’s fortune forever. now that he was stable and had no intentions of moving, he wanted to do something with his life

✘ he’s a really smart guy. shy, quiet, but smart. he changed his major about three times before deciding he wants to be a veterinarian, is studying veterinary science, finished his bachelors and is moving on with his education. he knows he doesn’t have to do anything with himself if he doesn’t want to, he knows he doesn’t need a job as a library assistant, but he wants to make something of himself, without his family’s money. he knows he can do it, it’s just a matter of not giving up

headcanons ;

✘ natural blonde, but constantly dyes his hair black, then switches. dying his hair is almost therapeutic for him, has even gotten buzzcuts during times where he was really depressed, but he prefers longer hair

✘ he has a british accent, literally nicholas galitzine’s voiceclaim. not too strong, but it’s there

✘ speaks russian with his father in absolute shame, my guy is definitely free ukraine all the way, just wants peace and love

✘ because of his past relationship, he has a very difficult time trusting people, loving people, or even allowing people to love him. he’s had sex that one time… that’s about it. the whole idea of love really confuses him. it’s something he wants, but it isn’t something he’s sure he understands, and he hates not understanding things

✘ he has been confused with his sexuality his entire life! he’s always felt like an outcast around other guys his age because they all typically wanted sex, meaningful, meaningless, just a typical guy thing, and that definitely didn’t apply for him. for ages, he thought there was something wrong with him, but it wasn’t until he learned about demisexuality that he finally understood… kind of. he just wants it to be meaningful, wants to have a connection with the person, the idea of meaningless sex and hookups literally makes him super uncomfortable, but it’s what most people seem to want these days. he just wants real love, even though that terrifies him

✘ he doesn't really have a lot of social media, just an instagram that he barely posts on. he's that one user that made a post three years ago and has four posts in total, one of himself, the rest of books, one of food, and some type of landscape... he's this guy, he's a loser honestly, probably has like a hundred followers or something, doesn't care for social media

✘ his favorite things in the world are books, animals, comics, and music. he’s a major nerd, has a passion for literature and music even though this isn’t what he’s pursuing for his career

✘ he doesn’t really tell people his family is wealthy, just doesn’t really think it’s important. in fact, lots of people don’t know much about him. he likes to keep to himself, doesn’t like sharing information, and wants to keep his past in the past

✘ he can drink. call him a typical russian or whatever, but it’s crazy how much he can drink, can practically outdrink anyone, no one believes it but it’s very true, tolerance through the roof, doesn’t even get sick and rarely even gets hungover, but he doesn’t make this an everyday thing

✘ he’s a pescatarian! probably will never become a vegetarian because he loves salmon way too much, loves salmon in every form possible. meat and chicken gross him out and he doesn’t like eggs either, just fish, heavy seafood lover

✘ close friends of his roast him for this, but he’s an olive fanatic as well. greek olives, peruvian olives, spanish olives, any type of olives, he’s obsessed. when he was younger, there was always olives at his house, because of his mother’s company, and he would dead ass eat them out the jar, finish the entire jar in like five minutes, still does that to this day. at his house, you’ll likely find two large jars of olives, minimum, a snack he will never get tired of

✘ his social skills have somewhat gotten better. definitely not the best, but he was horrendous before. thankfully overcame his stutter when he was younger. he’s still really shy, doesn’t like being the center of attention, but he’s getting better… baby steps

✘ what you would call a typical pisces – very sensitive! he doesn’t show this publicly, but if it hurts his feelings, he’ll cry when he gets home. literally the type to cry over sad videos, movies or tv shows, very emotional. pisces sun and cancer moon combo, he’s a literal mess, he feels things a lot, feels things on a whole different level than most people, which makes him a very compassionate and understanding person, definitely a shoulder to cry on, a very loyal friend to have by your side

✘ he forgives a lot. he’ll forgive you time after time after time, but when alexei genuinely gets tired of your shit, you will never hear from him again. he’s very forgiving, but once he says ‘i’m done’ there is no changing his mind. it takes a lot for him to get to this level, but he can only be taken advantage of for so long before he gets sick of it. once you lose him, you lose him for good

✘ he has a bearded dragon named jake long and a beagle named pawl mccartney. he named the bearded dragon after one of his favorite shows as a kid and his pet beagle was named after iconic paul mccartney, of course. jake long is one and pawl is two, alexei adores both of them

✘ loves his parents, but still somewhat holds a grudge over them for his childhood, even though he isn’t one to hold grudges. they definitely messed him up one way or another. even if it wasn’t their intention, being so unstable for so long has kind of permanently scarred him. he has a very hard time getting genuinely close to people, whether it be friendships or romantic relationships, it’s hard for him

✘ super nice guy, but quite literally remembers every bad thing that has happened to him ever. his energy is crying over something that happened when he was a literal child that he had no control of at three in the morning, might as well have the memory of an elephant. he’ll forgive, but he won’t forget, like ‘you remember what you did august 15th, 2016 at 4:57 pm? i do too’ like… isn’t one to hold grudges, but if you thought he forgot, you thought wrong

wanted connections ;

you don’t know that i know: i’d die for this connection, but someone who maybe heard of his sex tape? whether they never tell anyone or act like a little shit about it is utp, but alexei doesn’t know that they know, you know?

you think you can outdrink me?: a muse who thinks they can outdrink him, but they never can, could turn into a whole little competition, could be really funny

classical music lovers: title says it all, two nerds passionate about classical music, bonus if this muse is a fan of his parents or has heard of them

slow love: a poor, unfortunate muse that likes him. they could like how nice and down to earth he is, alexei could even know that they like him, but considering how iffy he is about relationships, well… yeah

all my friends are fake: someone who doesn’t like him because they think his whole nice guy act is fake, or maybe doesn’t like him for whatever other reason

book nerds: a fellow book and comic lover like him, maybe they spend their time in the library being literal nerds

cry baby: another muse who is sensitive like he is, they’re just soft besties and want peace and love, very wholesome friendship

or we can brainstorm!

birthchart ;

[alj4890]

Meeting the Family

(Tobias Carrick x F!MC) in a Choices Open Heart Drabble for Day 8 of Tobias Carrick Appreciation Week

A/N This takes place during and shortly after the attack in Book 2. Tobias will meet Chris's family for the first time. Honestly, I can't believe that in OH, the MC's family didn't rush to be with them. They nearly died yet not one call or anything was done. I can't believe there wasn't even a question posed to the MC if they wanted their family to know what was happening.

Rating G for angst and fluff

@tobias-carrick-appreciation-week @jerzwriter @hopelessromantic1352 @choicesficwriterscreations @twinkleallnight

Masterlist

Tobias wasn't one to sit and worry, but the plane ride gave him plenty of time to do just that. He thought it was too soon for Chris to be traveling. She'd only been out of the hospital for two weeks. Yet, here they were traveling back to where she'd grown up.

Her parents were the first ones to arrive in Boston. Sienna called to let them know what had happened shortly after the attack occurred. The two surgeons were setting up a clinic in a small village on the outskirts of Ethiopia when they'd received the call. They did all they could to make it in time to see their only child in the hopes they could find a cure.

While Dr.'s Jamie and Lorna Valentine made the arduous five hour journey to get to an airport and then a nearly twenty hour flight; Tobias and the rest scrambled to find a way to save Chris, Rafael, and Danny.

He can still feel everything that he felt in those long hours : fear, heartache at the thought of losing someone he loved, and then the immense relief when he figured out a cure. When he administered the carefully measured concoction, he'd wanted to rip the hazmat suit off and hold Chris. She was dying and it was killing him to do nothing to comfort her.

Her eyes never left his face as he found a vein that hadn't collapsed yet. He tried to be tender as he pierced her skin, praying the cure he'd created wasn't causing her more pain as it began its path throughout her body.

He gently covered her up, unable to say or do more since they had an audience watching from the window. But Chris always could tell what was on his mind. She grasped his hand to try and squeeze it. The barest hint of pressure she could manage in her weakened condition made his eyes sting with tears. Her parched lips parted with a whisper of thanks and how much she loved him.

"It's going to work." He'd managed to say outloud. "Don't give up."

She closed her eyes, giving a brief nod.

Tobias bent down, blocking his face and hers from those who were watching. He reached for her covers. He made a show of carefully tucking them around her.

"I love you." He whispered against her ear, watching her closely as a sliver of her eyes opened. "Please keep trying for me."

A slight smile formed on her lips.

"I will." She promised.

As soon as the numerous lab results rolled in proving that the drug was working, he began to breathe easier. The constriction in his chest lessened with every shred of proof that he'd saved Chris's life. The excited faces of her roommates and coworkers around him were nothing compared to when her parents arrived.

Lorna engulfed him in a hug, her body racked with sobs when she heard the news her daughter was going to live. Unable to properly stand under the immense relief, Jamie collapsed in a chair as he trembled with tears pouring down his cheeks.

Sienna knelt beside Chris's father and did her best to comfort him. Ethan and the others helped to try and calm the pair down.

Tobias led them to the window where they could safely see for themselves that she was alive.

Chris was still asleep. Her chest was rising and falling in a more steady way than it had been hours earlier. Though she was incredibly pale, her lips were no longer ashen. A slight hint of pink was back.

Jamie held his wife close to his side. Neither took their eyes off of Chris. Each beep of her heart monitor, every rise of her chest, and every move she made to get more comfortable as she slept gave them the hope they needed.

Chris's hoarse sob when she opened her eyes and saw her parents in hazmat suits was something Tobias doubted he'd ever forget. He couldn't imagine facing them if he'd failed. By the next day, they could all enter the quarantined area safely without the need for protection.

Her parents sat on either side of her bed, holding her close to them. Everyone else began to file out, except for Tobias.

Ethan gave him a look that silently said he should leave the family alone.

"I want to check her vitals one more time." He muttered, ignoring the glare of disapproval.

What Tobias wanted, what he needed, was to be able to touch her. He needed to hear the steady beat of her heart.

Chris untangled herself from her parents and took him by surprise when she stumbled out of bed to hug him.

Tobias held her tight to him, struggling to get the words out.

Her parents watched the two with understanding smiles, their own hands finding each other's.

****************

As Chris recovered, her uncles were the next members of the family to visit. Lorna, like her daughter, was an only child. Jamie Valentine was the youngest out of five. His four older brothers, all fellow surgeons, chartered a flight the moment Jamie called them.

"The Valentine's are a close knit family." Lorna explained to Tobias when he took her and Jamie for coffee so that Chris could visit with her newly arrived family members. "When one has trouble, they all jump at the chance to be the first ones at the door to help."

Jamie nodded, a hint of pride showing on his face.

"Our Christy is special." Jamie added. "Being the youngest and a girl only made my parents, my brothers, and their sons more protective over her." He chuckled. "Especially since Lorna and I were called away so often."

"I'm surprised the lads didn't come too." Lorna added, laughing over her beloved nephews. "And your Da has never been one to mind us to stay home."

"Must have been Ma." Jamie shook his head. "She's the only one to get him to fall in line."

"The Valentine's are a stubborn lot." Lorna told Tobias. "Just in case you couldn't tell with our Christy."

"I've noticed a time or two." He teased, making her laugh.

"Prepare yourself, lad." Jamie nodded towards whatever was approaching from behind Tobias.

He turned and got to his feet the moment he saw Chris's uncles.

"This be the one?" The tallest of the group asked.

"Aye, Malcolm ." Jamie grinned. "This is the one our Christy is mad about."

Tobias shook his hand and then the others. They slapped him on his back, thanking him for saving their niece.

"How did you come up with it?" Fredrick Valentine asked.

Tobias went once more into a long explanation over the process he went through.

******************

After seeing that Chris was going to be back to herself before too long, the Valentine's who had traveled to see her soon returned back to their homes and work. Lorna told Tobias at the airport that now that she had met him and Chris's friends, she wasn't worried about her daughter being taken care of.

"Just a moment." Tobias stopped her and Jamie from leaving. "I want you to know how much I love Chris."

"We gathered as much." Jamie teased.

Tobias couldn't help but laugh as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I want you to know that I intend on asking her to marry me once she's recovered."

Afraid that they'd think he didn't want her if she wasn't well, he quickly clarified his earlier statement.

"I want to make the proposal special for her. Take her out and..." He trailed off when they both merely smiled at him.

Jamie grasped Tobias's shoulder and gave him a playful shake.

"Then get to it."

Lorna kissed his cheek.

"We couldn't be more proud to have you marry Christy."

"I know you've got us and my brothers on your side." Jamie warned him. "But my parents and the lads are a whole 'nother issue."

Tobias thought he was joking until he saw Lorna nod solemnly.

"Good luck with that, lad." Jamie winked as he took Lorna's bag from her.

****************

Once Chris was released from the hospital, she told Tobias she wanted to go home for a visit.

"I need to see my grandparents." She explained. "I can't have them worrying about me. No phone call is going to stop it."

She cuddled close within his arms while tears filled her eyes.

"I want to get away from here." She whispered. "I know everything is fine now, but I can't help but see Travis's face and the black canister whenever I close my eyes."

"I can't let you travel just yet." Tobias gently ran his fingers through her hair. "You're still recovering."

"I know, but couldn't I recover there?" She pleaded, sniffing softly. "I feel like I can't breathe."

Tobias jerked up, grasping her shoulders. His eyes darted over her face and chest to see if she was truly struggling to get air into her body.

"I meant it," Chris quickly reassured him, "metaphorically."

"Pick a new phrase." He snapped. "I think you took another ten years off my life."

She pressed a tender kiss to his lips. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"Hell." He grumbled, holding her close. "What am I going to do with you?"

Chris kept quiet, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Dammit Chris." He pressed his lips to her forehead.

With each word, they brushed against her furrowed brow.

"Give me another week to make certain you are still improving. Then I'll get you home."

"You're coming with me?" She sat up to see his face.

"I'm not letting you travel alone in your condition. In fact, we aren't flying commercial either. Your body doesn't need to fight any germs right now." He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing against her lips. "Plus, it's time I met the rest of your family."

****************

Inverness, Scotland...

James and Cora Valentine's large home sat nestled in a prestigious area of the city. The old, stately manors that dotted the street were given new life with all the fall leaves glowing about them.

The retired surgeon turned respected instructor was anxiously waiting at the door for the two to get out of the car. Cora stood by his side, tears nearly blinding her when she saw Chris's excited smile.

"Oh!" She held her arms out, clutching her granddaughter close as tears fell from her expressive green eyes. "A leanbh!"

Chris laughed over the term of endearment as she squeezed her tight.

James swiped at his eyes. "Let the lass catch her breath."

Cora swatted at his arm before letting Chris go. She cupped her face, smiling again at seeing that all was truly well.

"Come here." James hugged Chris next. "We've missed you so."

Cora noticed Tobias standing off to the side.

"Don't be standing out there." She motioned for him to come in. "You are always welcome in our home after what you did."

Tobias followed them inside. He was hit with how cozy the large home seemed. A cheery fire crackled off in a sitting room. He could smell something wonderful baking in the kitchen. Comfort was all he could think as he looked about.

Pictures lined the walls of the couple in their younger days and many more of their large family. Tobias stopped in front of one of Cora when she was about Chris's age.

"Remarkable, isn't it?" James said from behind him. "It's as if Christy Cora was cut from her grandma. That's why I insist on calling her by her middle name. She's my Cora made over."

"She's her twin." Tobias remarked.

Cora beamed at them as she settled Chris near the fire. She draped a soft blanket over her, shushing her when she said she was fine.

She then stood back to study her. A slight frown formed as she took in how thin Chris was.

"Cora was one of my surgical nurses." James whispered. "She'd started out working the wards before I talked her into working with me. I can always tell when she's back in nursing mode by the tilt of her head."

"Daft man." Cora grumbled over her shoulder at him. "As if we both canna see how our Christy is!"

She gently brushed Chris's hair back to see the dark circles under her eyes.

"Granny." Chris grasped her hand. "I promise I'm better."

The elderly woman humphed before darting into the kitchen to retrieve a tea tray loaded with shortbread cookies.

"Sit down." James waved to a spot near his granddaughter. "It's time we got to know the man who saved our lass."

Tobias relaxed as he told the couple about himself. Chris's hand slipped into his as he told them the story of how they'd met.

After a brief explanation of the attack and their race to save her, Cora declared that that was enough for one evening. She bustled about, getting them into the dining room for dinner.

Tobias watched as the stress seemed to disappear from Chris's body the longer they were there. Her grandmother had prepared all her favorite comfort foods, insisting she eat as much as she could to regain her strength. He chuckled along with her grandfather as they watched Chris give up and do as her grandmother said.

****************

After dinner, Cora made Chris sit by the fire with Tobias then dragged her husband off to help her with the dishes.

Chris took a deep breath, softly smiling over being back in the home she'd spent so much of her childhood in. She rested her head on Tobias's shoulder, closing her eyes with the peace of being safe in his arms and with those she loved.

Tobias knew the moment she fell asleep. He rested his cheek against her hair as he became lost in thought. He saw what she meant about needing to breathe. It was easier here not just for her, but for him. He hadn't realized how much his body reacted to whatever hers did in terms of stress.

He could feel the knots begin to loosen in his neck and shoulder blades the longer he held her by the fire.

*******************

"Poor wee things." Cora softly draped another blanket over Tobias.

"They've been put through the wringer." James whispered as they left the young couple asleep on the couch.

"Aye." Cora linked her arm with her husband's on the way upstairs. "And they made it through it."

******************

It took a few days, but Chris convinced Tobias that they should go for a walk. The sun was shining while the wind that blew wasn't as biting as when they first arrived. Chris promised she wouldn't push herself and allowed him to check her vitals once more before stepping outside.

"Are you warm enough?" He asked, taking her hand in his.

"I am." She lifted her head up, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. "It feels so good to be outside on a day like this."

Chris looked up at him and noticed the tender expression on his face.

"I think you should kiss me."

Tobias knew what she meant. He'd given her soft, gentle kisses since the attack. There'd been nothing like the passionate way he normally kissed her.

He gently took her in his arms.

"I'm not going to break." Chris reminded him.

He frowned somewhat over the irritation he heard in her tone.

She grasped his jacket, yanked him against her, and slammed her lips to his.

He stumbled back a few steps all while sinking into the deep kiss.

"Oy! That'll be enough of that!"

Chris groaned as she broke away. She'd know that yell anywhere.

"Fergus Valentine!" She shouted. "Don't you dare think to scold me."

Tobias's eyes widened as nine of the biggest men he'd ever seen began to close in around them.

Chris sighed in frustration.

Fergus narrowed his eyes at the couple. "Granny said you'd gone this direction."

He flashed an evil smile toward Tobias.

"We thought it was time to get acquainted with Dr. Carrick."

*****************

Chris knew it was inevitable. As much as she adored all nine of the men around her, she did hate how they treated the ones she brought home.

"Tobias," she wrapped her arm around his waist. "These are my cousins."

She began to point to each one. "Fergus, his twin brother Finlay, then there's Hamish, Douglas, and Iain. Then Rob and Callum. And finally, Bruce and Brodie."

"This is Dr. Tobias Carrick." She stressed. "The man who saved my life."

"And the man you've been seeing for a while now." Douglas reminded her.

"Notice how she began with the life saving part?" Brodie added.

"Aye." Finlay snorted. "As if that'd stop us from anything."

Hamish chuckled. "Look at the wee lass, thinking to protect the Sassenach."

They all grumbled something Tobias didn't quite catch.

He held his hand out towards Fergus.

"It's nice to meet you."

Bruce chortled. "It's good to see he isn't a complete bawbag."

Chris gasped over the insult. "He isn't one at all!"

"We'll be the judge of that." Rob told her. "But first, we're to get you home."

"Sorry boys." Tobias put his arm around Chris. "But I promised her a walk and she's going to have it while the weather is good."

Callum folded his arms, blocking their path. "Don't think about getting out of this Carrick."

"You'll be coming with us to the pub." Ian told him. "Without Christy."

"Sounds fun." Tobias smirked at them all. "I'll meet you there once I finish my walk with Chris."

He bumped shoulders with Callum and continued on his way with Chris beaming proudly.

****************

"Don't let those idiots intimidate you." Chris told him once they were back at her grandparents' home. "They're mostly all talk."

"Mostly?" Tobias helped her off with her coat.

"They've been known to get a little rough with some of the men I dated." She huffed. "Not anything serious, but they have run off a number of past boyfriends. I still don't know what happened to Simon."

Tobias paused in hanging up her coat to see if she was joking.

Her twisting of her hands as she bit down on her lip let him know this might be a serious situation he'd been thrust into.

"They're just looking out for you." James spoke up from reading his paper.

"Aye." Cora smiled at them. "I did say to them that we approve of Tobias."

"The lads though like to make everyone earn their approval." James added.

Chris reached for her coat. "I'm going with you."

"You're going to rest." Tobias insisted. "By the fire and eat all the shortbread your grandmother made you."

"But--"

"I'm not worried." His cocky smirk appeared. "After a few drinks, they'll love me."

*****************

He was fairly certain they meant to kill him with the whiskey and questions.

"Why didn't you offer Christy the job at your hospital?" Hamish demanded.

"She's good enough to get in her pants but not work with? Is that what you're saying?" Bruce needled.

Tobias pushed the sixth glass of whiskey away as he tried once more to explain their initial meeting.

"What do you think?" Rob glanced at his cousins and brother. "One more round ought to get him to speak the truth."

Tobias got to his feet. "Where's the restroom."

They all pointed back to the right.

He swayed, stumbling every few steps.

Once in the privacy of a stall, he called his brother, Hugh.

"I don't think I'm going to make it home." He slurred in lieu of greeting.

"Are you drunk?" Hugh asked.

"Yep." Tobias closed his eyes as the world tilted. "Chris's cousins are grilling me at a pub."

"About what?"

"Everything." Tobias mumbled. "Like why I won't give jobs to her because of pants."

"You did what?" Hugh couldn't quite follow.

"Doesn't matter. Just make sure you and Phillip get all my things."

"Why would we get your things?"

"I'm dying. Or I will." Tobias ended the call.

****************

"I like him." Finlay told the others. "He hasn't once shown fear and he's clearly in love with Christy."

The others chuckled and spoke about how much Tobias impressed them.

"I think our fair cousin has finally picked a man worthy to be with a Valentine." Douglas declared.

He lifted his drink in a silent toast.

The others clinked his glass and knocked back their drinks.

****************

Tobias splashed water on his face to try and clear his head. He needed his wits about him if he was to finally get approval from the nine men who were waiting to torture him.

He stumbled back to the table and accepted the new glass of whiskey Callum handed him.

"Before you start up again," He blinked as the room tilted once more, "I have something to say."

Brodie winked at the others. "Out with it!" He snapped.

Tobias glared at him through blood shot eyes. "I'm in love with Chris and plan on asking her to marry me."

He next got to his feet, took a healthy swig from his glass, and leaned forward.

"And if you assholes don't like it, that's too damn bad."

The cousins looked at one another then burst out laughing.

Fergus slapped Tobias on the back.

"You're not bad, Carrick." He smiled warmly for the first time at him. "Welcome to the family."

***************

Chris rushed to the door when she heard something strange outside.

Her cousins and Tobias were drunkenly singing an 80's love song as they stumbled up the steps.

Her eyes widened at the sight of them all smiling. Hamish and Finlay had their arms draped over Tobias shoulders. Every single one of them seemed to be in the best mood.

"There she is!" Finlay exclaimed. "Carrick's bride!"

"Carrick's bride!" The rest of her cousins saluted her.

"Get in here!" She hissed. "Granny's going to be so embarrassed if the neighbors see you lot."

"You sure, you sure," Iain hiccupped. "You wanna marry her?"

Tobias nodded as he nearly fell over the threshold.

"She's so bossy." Rob loudly whispered to him.

Chris covered her face. Taking a deep breath, she pointed at the stairs.

"Go sleep it off."

"'Night Christy." A few mumbled as they fell and stumbled upstairs.

Tobias waved goodbye to them then turned toward her.

Chris couldn't help but smile at him. He looked adorable trying his best to not appear drunk.

And she was thrilled that not only was he able to win over all nine of her cousins, but he'd apparently shared with them what he wanted for their future. All she wanted was to spend her life with Tobias.

"Easy there!" She tried to hold him up when he nearly pitched forward. "Let's get you to bed."

He slung his arm around her shoulders. "You are so damn sexy."

Once she got them into her room, he tugged her down on the bed.

"Thank you."

She giggled when he whispered a few more drunken pickup lines.

He kissed her, moaning softly at the feel of her soft curves pressed up against his side.

Tobias sighed when she whispered to get some sleep.

"M'kay." He mumbled.

The moment he began to snore, Chris relaxed beside him. She pressed a lingering kiss to his neck.

"I can't wait to marry you." She whispered.

[mysteriouslover1516]

Not in the Cards

After the events of No Way Home, Peter 2 returns back to his own universe, meditating on what Peter 1 told him. (And yes, No Way Home brought back my obsession for Andrew Garfield)

“I lost...I lost Gwen.”

Peter Parker sat at the top of the Empire State Building, mask in his hand, the cool night air whipping through brown hair. It had been over a month since the phenomenon of the multiverse was unraveled. Everyone had returned to their own separate universe and timeline, something which he still found hard to wrap his mind around. New York was exactly how he had left it; Dr. Connors still in prison and Max declared dead. That’s where it got confusing though, didn’t they cure everyone before they returned to their timeline? Did that mean other variants of these people were still alive somehow? After all, if the multiverse was possible, then anything was.

“Gwen, she…she was my MJ.”

It had been seven years since Gwen Stacy’s death, but every minute detail was destined to be forever embedded in Peter’s mind. The sound of the web snapping rang in his ears, the glistening tears in her eyes a constant reminder of how much trust she had placed in him, the sickening thud of her head hitting the concrete; all these things were a constant reminder of how he had failed to protect her. He had promised her father he’d stay away from Gwen in order to keep her safe, but in his own selfishness he had broken his last dying wish, ultimately killing the captain’s daughter as well. 

“I couldn't save her. I'm never gonna be able to forgive myself for that.”

Many nights he spent reliving the nightmare in his head, watching it as if in slow-motion. The web grabbing her waist, the short feeling of relief rushing over him, then the gut-wrenching sound of her neck and spine undoubtedly snapping, her head soon hitting the ground. It wasn’t the head trauma that had killed Gwen, it was him. He had killed her, snapped her neck, rendering her dead before she even touched the ground. It was his fault she had died.

“But I carried on. Tried to...tried to keep going. Tried to keep being the...... friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, because I know that's what she would have wanted.”

Peter hadn’t expected for it to end this way, in his head he was still imagining him and Gwen living a happily ever after together. How could he bring himself to save others when he couldn’t even save the love of his life? It was another one of life’s cruel jokes, as if Fate himself was mocking him.

“But...at some point, I just...I stopped pulling my punches. I got rageful. I got bitter.”

After a while he found it harder to show mercy, his self-control snapping more and more often. It was easy to punish those in the wrong, to give them what they deserved, it felt good to strip the life from their very bones. For a time he had simply gone crazy, blood lust going to his head, he grew ruthless, wanting the guilty to suffer.

“I just don't want you, to end up like...like me.”

It grew almost impossible to reign in his emotions, to see through the red lenses that had become his vision. The children on the streets who always cheered for him started to grow afraid, not knowing if Spiderman was actually protecting them. He had become a monster, the citizens no longer felt safe in New York. The realization of what he had become suddenly shocked him into reality. It had been hard to get his life together, to reign in his emotions, but he had succeeded, triumphed.

“You have someone?”

“No. I got no time for Peter Parker stuff. You know?”

Deep down he knew that wasn’t the actual truth, he had plenty of time being a twenty-four-yr-old photographer. The actual truth was that the thought of falling in love and losing someone again scared the absolute crap out of him. He didn’t think he could handle the reality of having his heart ripped out once more.

“I guess it's just not in the cards for guys like us.”

Heroes never got the girl, and even if they did, it rarely worked out or lasted. Whether it was a breakup or death, hearts still shattered and there was no way to numb the pain.

“Well…I wouldn't give up. Took a while, but...we made it work.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He knew the older and wiser version of himself meant it to be encouraging, but somehow all it managed to do was dishearten him. The older and wiser Peter had been successful in his relationship, he and his MJ, Gwen, had made it work.

He watched as MJ fell from the Statue of Liberty, the wind whipping through her hair, the panic in her eyes evident, but no sound came out. He faintly registered himself saying No as he lept after her, Not Again.

In that moment he had redeemed himself, he was able to spare his younger version the pain that came from losing a soulmate.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Are you?”

Peter had been too speechless to answer, too overcome with emotion to form words, all he could do was nod his head, desperately trying to hold back his tears. He had saved MJ the way he should have saved Gwen. He had learned from his past mistake, he had caught her in his arms. Was this what redemption felt like?

Maybe it’s time to date again, to look for someone new. It had been seven years since Gwen’s death, she would have wanted him to move on, right?

That thought still stabbed him in the gut, chest heaving with pain at the very idea. It felt like betraying her, letting her die all over again. If she couldn’t be with him physically, the least he could do was preserve the memory of her in his heart, right? He shook his head, Gwen wouldn’t have agreed with that, she would have wanted him to go on with his life. She’d want him to be happy. He owed it to her to oblige her wishes, he needed to move on, he was GOING to move on. Peter sighed as he stood up, stretching his limbs in front of him, it was time to patrol the streets again.

Hey lovelies! Leave reviews for a part 2? Thanks for reading! :)

[micamicster]

You've watched tbs&tdh?! Yay! What's your favourite part, what would you change, and do you have any headcanons for the characters' future? 👀

hi babe! Yes i did--and I wouldn't have if it wasn't for you posting it, so thank you for that! The book series it was based on looked terrible, tbh, so i was surprised by how good the show looked in the gifs you were posting. I really enjoyed it!

I think the best parts of the show were a) the cast. The main three have great chemistry and the lead is charismatic enough to pull off being a tragic chosen one without being a drag, which is hard to find in ya! I also think it was a good decision to cast a black lead. I know opinions and execution varies on this, but I tend to prefer a racial allegory in fiction to be backed up by actually casting a non-white actor in the role. Even though this casting isn't strict throughout the show (its not like all blood witches are black and all fairborns are white), having him be the biracial child of a black father felt like a deliberate choice on the part of the showmakers, not something incidental or shoehorned in.

Love a fantasy road trip. Not much else to say there, just a personal fave of mine <3

The other big thing I really liked about it was the unique style the show had! It felt distinct from other fantasy ya shows, from the costuming to the set design to the mundane, muddy, tramping through the woods scenes. And some of the magic was genuinely very creepy and unique--the scene with mercury possessing his grandmother in particular scared the crap out of me!

And lastly, I loved the decisions made with the relationships. I liked that each of the three central characters has their own arcs and their own relationships with each other--it made the group convincing and balanced. While I wouldn't really have minded a bisexual love triangle (as long as the girl doesn't get sidelined), I really enjoyed where they ended up as something pretty explicitly poly! I was surprised to see that play out so purposefully on screen--i guess id assumed it was mostly fan interpretation, but no, it really seems like what the showrunners were going for!

Now for the negatives lol. (And tbh im inclined to blame most of these on the book series.) Firstly, I think that the magic system is unclear. The idea that each person has a power, fine. But then some of those powers (like gabriels) seem to be just, can do witchcraft and potions? Okay. Also there's no clear distinction between what blood witches and fairborn witches can do. Which is fine if that's the point they're making thematically, but it really seems like there were supposed to be differences in abilities in these two different groups that are just... never shown clearly on screen?

My other criticism would be that I think they've written themselves into a conflict they can't write a satisfying solution to. Which is the problem with discrimination-based fictional conflict--there isn't an easy solution in real life, so it's hard to find one that's satisfying in fiction, unless you have plenty of time and very skilled writers. (Which, lets be real, most ya netflix shows do not have.)

Where would I want them to go from here? I'm rarely of this opinion, but honestly I think they'd be well within their rights to say fuck it, and hop a boat to america or something, leave this all behind. I think the most likely outcome is that they try to use their combined power to force a truce on the adults, initially fail because they're young and easily manipulated, but eventually gain something more equal and lasting. But what I would really enjoy seeing is them all, like, going to the beach. Waiting tables. Getting terrible hobbies. Continuing the fantasy roadtrip but, like, not dying this time. You know?

[isabellehemlock]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

Hi Sarah!  I hope you know that I saw that one reblog where you shared you dyed your hair with rainbow colors? (hopefully I'm not misremebering?) - anyways, so now I think of you with magical unicorn vibes gloriousness anytime I get a notification from you 🦄

Thank you so much for this fun ask!!  So cute, and hopefully no one minds me sharing more details about each piece I picked - only because I know I genuinely enjoy hearing about the creative process and what an author got out of it, or their essential “why’s” so I’m gonna list seven from the TOG fandom (because no joke, I calculated it, 96% of my stuff on ao3 is TOG lol), and with three bonus ones from other fandoms - because I have some 86 works listed on AO3 (though plenty are fanarts), but yeah, I just couldn’t narrow it down more than that lol.

In no particular order: 

Their souls were knit together (and he loved him as himself) 

I sort of consider this one my magnum opus of all the pre-canon JoexNicky pieces I had written before then.  It’s like each and every fic/meta/post/research piece led me to this one that I embarked on in the fall of 2021 (and even with some academic and religious studies, still spent a few extra weeks on research just to ensure I had a few key pieces in place).  I’m a history nerd at heart, what can I say lol.  The religious symbolism is thick and they fall in love slowly, so then, sprinkle in some historical contexts from Genova, Tunisia, Constantinople, and Crete, and it sort of snowballed to 88k in three months lol.  But there are definitely scenes from it that I’ve re-read several times over, because yeah, it just speaks to me on multiple levels, and I’m glad it seemed to resonate for a few others as well ❤️

Called you by name 

This was one of those pre-canon ficlets I was referring to just above, and looking back, I think this could easily be a sort of soft sequel for TSWKT (even though I wrote CYBN beforehand) - but it’s essentially an existential one-shot, stand alone of Nicky returning to his home land about two centuries after he had left it.  I projected a lot, but in the end it’s about faith but also the freedom to label your own identity.  I still look back at it fondly.

The Returning 

This is more of a drabble piece, based on a tumblr prompt, that I wrote for Nile - which is still one of my favorites.  Nile is a character I would have loved to explore more about/through/with due to me being a military brat, and my father being a wounded vet (my father had his TBI 20 years ago this August, and for all intents and purposes, died that day).  Between that, and her faith, there were actually quite a few meta posts I had wanted to write up, but I kept it personal to a few friends instead after seeing some discourse.  So, writing a canon adjacent Nile, instead of the modern au’s I had been doing up until then, and finally explore even some of that?  Yeah, deeply personal and I’m glad I had the opportunity to 🥹

Pwimo 

For personal reasons, but I still get a giggle out of it 😎

Precious Days 

I think some of my favorite pieces are the ones that I make with others (whether that’s by a prompt suggestion, plotting together, making a fic based on art, or vice versa - and I’m so grateful for people who allowed me to sort of practice with them before deep diving into fandom events lol).  Now most of my fandom collabs have been art (but also podfics??  Who am I lol) - but yeah, this was one of those giggling with a friend in DM’s over plot ideas kind, that I still look back on fondly.  I was grateful for the opportunity to write something as a birthday gift, but also have some fun trying a different trope, and looking at it from a different perspective/lens that I normally tend to write in.  It was like this fantastic experiment, dedicated as a gift, but somehow still resonated with several readers, and it’s also one of the few fics of mine that I sometimes re-read scenes from.

Promises, promises 

One of my absolute faves because I got to explore one of my favorite subjects - interfaith dialogue - through the whole team, in this modern au, which was also a bit of a rom-com <333  Some scenes and dialogues were projected from my own experiences, and discussions, and though niche as heck, also resonated with some fellow LGBTQIA+ religious readers 💒

Bonus - other fandoms: 

Miracoli

Should we call it TOG-adjacent?  Lol.  I adored writing Daan and Paolo, and the found family trope was THIQ within this FIC yo.  Plus, getting to write a teenager, and a preschooler?  And exploring those dynamics of building a family together?  Yesh, please - there are so many scenes from this one that I re-read just to bask in the serotonin because it’s probably one of the sweetest fics I’ve written, uplifting, romantic and soft 💕

Mixing It Up 

My Steddie fic!  I binged ST, resonated with Eddie Munson hard, and projected some aceness onto their potential dynamics.  I’ve received some of the sweetest “I feel seen” comments with this one, and some are saved on my phone on days when posting anxiety tells me not to bother.  Write the stories your teen self would have loved to read, because I guarantee there are others out there who it will speak to, too.

Pretty Ballads Hide Bastard Truths 

This was one that has fallen on the back burner due to other fandom events/projects but I promise it’s outlined and ready to resume come late summer.  Like, it’s on my list - I’m itching for it!  I adored Calanthe x Eist’s scenes in the first season, and I wanted to devour more of it, and with some loving encouragement I was glad to dedicate this one to Claz.  It’s still one of my favorites for the worldbuilding, and little nods to canon throughout, but just that exploration of growth, healing, and coming together over the years that has yet to leave my brain.  I’m looking forward to finishing it and allowing the story to come full circle.

Thanks again Sarah ~ looking forward to passing this one on soon 🤗

[audiogrizzly]

Game of the Year 2022

It’s mid-December (at the time of writing) and that means I am going to slave over this hot keyboard to bring you my games of 2022!

Again, very little is going to be written about the life front.  I have lost 60 lbs since the summer, which is great.  Managed to go abroad for the first time since the pandemic  and there’s an ASDA Express that’s opened locally to me.  Best year ever.

Onto games though.  Not much in the way of new systems.  I got an Xbox Series X and a Steam Deck, just new ways of playing games I already have really.  Although back in January I also managed to basically recover my Xbox 360 collection, I originally sold them all off when I got my PS4 9 years ago.  A nice walk down memory lane.

This year's top games have a sort of an indie flavour, which is most unlike me.  There are some AAA tier titles in there.  Plus there are also some omissions as a few games have just come out here in December which i may be able to get through before the end of the month, but Overwatch has basically taken over my gaming time again.  So Marvel’s Midnight Suns, Warhammer 40K Darktide, Crisis Core FF7 Reunion and Need For Speed Unbound will have to wait until next year for my time.  Also this year, I am afraid that Elden Ring did not manage to capture my attention as I struggle to get into those types of games (not action RPGs, but the type where you basically get punished for dying when the game is hard enough as it is), and there’s also a small handful of games I wanted to play but have yet to do so.

So, onto my list, just like last year, I will start with my game of the year:

TehRadge’s game of 2022!

OlliOlli World

It’s weird that I was so excited to play this considering that I wasn’t exactly all over the first 2 although I did appreciate what they were trying to do - recreate the Tony hawk experience in 2 dimensions.

The 3rd in the series has a lot more charm.  Funny, zany, non-irritating characters, a groovy soundtrack and the same finger gymnastic gameplay that Activision's classic series offered for many years before it dried up.  OlliOlli World had me hooked as soon as I saw it being previewed the year before.

And yes, this is the first time I have bestowed my “GOTY” accolade to something that can be described as an “indie” tier game.  In the past I have awarded games like Hotline Miami as my favourite game on a specific system (Vita in 2013) and a fair few have featured somewhere in top 5s and honourable mentions but never right at the top.

It’s a shame it doesn’t last long when you’re working your way through each of the “zones” meeting colourful and charming characters along the way, but there is plenty to keep you entertained long after the 6 hours or so that you need to get to the last map are over.  The way the game handles its social play side with an asynchronous multiplayer mode is great, offering you generated maps to share with your friends to compete for high scores, plus season based challenges to compete with strangers.  There’s also all the leaderboard support you can expect from a game like this.

It’s also highly “clippable” which is a term that I think the current generation uses a fair bit.  And it makes sense, each run is only going to last around a minute or so, making it easy to grab and edit footage whenever you feel you have done something outstanding.

And those characters, I want to cuddle them all.  I especially appreciate the way that some of the more cringeworthy skater speak is offset by the “Dad” character (named after his father, gives one of the other characters pocket money despite him being a grown man and not his son), the game has an irreverent sense of humour that adds to the charm in a big way.

Even after playing the 2 excellent DLC packs that came as part of the season pass, and old school type of season pass, there’s no microtransactions, loot boxes or FOMO-inducing battle pass type mechanics here, I still found myself playing through it all again on a second platform when the game went on sale during the autumn.

A great game that will stay with me for a long while yet and will undoubtedly fail to age.

Runner Up 1

Neon White

I should point out that these runners up and honourable mentions are not in any particular order.

Another indie title, and another “run” based game which uses online leaderboards to keep things competitive.  Neon White is also as we speak making its way to more platforms, which is great if it means more people can play it.

Designed by the same person who gave us the strange but funny Donut County, Neon White is a fast paced 1st person action platformer where you’re not only against the clock (getting better times allows better medals which help progression go faster), you’re also managing weapons you pick up that offer limited ammo and one-time use secondary abilities.  As well as being a test of your platforming skills, there’s also a puzzle element, do you expel all the ammunition in the pistol you picked up against a set of enemies, or do you drop it in order to use the extended jump it gives you in order to get to a higher platform and use another weapon to kill the baddies?

Highly stylish, I would only say that the story in this is trying a little too hard.  I never believe “gangster” type characters to also be anime loving nerds, I kind of feel it to be a little pandering, especially when you know it’s been made in the west.  A bit of a hot take there, some might think, but it did get to me while I was playing it.

Now that it's coming to more platforms, I may pick it up again and play it elsewhere, like I did with OlliOlli World

Runner Up 2

Stray

Technically an indie game too, this is the title that many will consider to be among their best games of the year too.  The cat factor definitely helps, many people seem to love their felines and playing as a wee furry creature who meows at the touch of a button, jumps on top of ledges scaring the crap out of NPCs (despite them being robots) and knocking things over is no doubt an appeal to many.

Personally, I loved the neon-drenched towns and post apocalyptic versions of our world, unravelling mysteries as a silent protagonist who can somehow understand the robots they are encountering and generally saving the day while working your way back to your pack (that you are initially separated from, one of the most heart wrenching scenes this year I should add).

It’s also been a while since I listed a game I don't even own as one of my faves of the year.  I played this via the game catalogue on PlayStation Plus.  Now that I remember that, I may just keep an eye out for a sale or a physical release so I can have this forever.  An intriguing world and a likeable protagonist, what more can you ask for?

Honourable Mentions (again, no particular order)

Horizon Forbidden West

The follow up to my best game of 2017.  Has less of an impact the second time round, but still one of my favourite worlds in a game of this genre

Cult of the Lamb

Loved this, narrowly missed out of being in my top 3.  I do wish there was more to its endgame.

God of War Ragnarok

Similar to Horizon, loved the previous game, also a GOTY in the year it came out.  As a sequel, it’s great, I’ve just been here before

Kirby and the Forgotten Land

A big surprise, never played a Kirby game before, perhaps the nearest thing to a traditional Nintendo action adventure that came out this year

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Shredder's Revenge

Was really hyped for this, especially after falling in love with Streets of Rage 4.  Love the fact that retro 2D beat ‘em ups are popping up all over the place.

Arcade Paradise

The weirdest game I played this year, especially at the start when you’re just putting laundry on all the time.  Make me remember the days when i used to work backshifts and closed up shop.  A story for another time though

Shout outs:

Here are some additional games I enjoyed playing this year

Overwatch 2 (more of a sort of “I got back into it this year” type of thing)

Call of Duty Modern Warfare II

Bayonetta 3

Splatoon 3

Multiversus 

Ghostwire: Tokyo

Tiny Tina's Wonderlands

Looking forward to next year:

Fire Emblem Engage

Forspoken

Dead Space

Destiny 2 Lightfall

Star Wars Jedi Survivor

Resident Evil 4

Diablo 4

Zelda Tears of the Kingdom

Street Fighter 6 

Suicide Squad

Starfield

Redfall

Hyper Light Breaker

Metal Slug Tactics

Bomb Rush Cyberfunk

Phantom Fury

Hades 2

Dead Cells Castlevania DLC

Horizon FW DLC

Here’s to a smashing 2023!

[captainmdhridoyhossain-blog]

[ad_1] Copyright © 2023 by Jarrett J. Krosoczka./Graphix/Scholastic Inc. Copyright © 2023 by Jarrett J. Krosoczka./Graphix/Scholastic Inc. For children and young adults, summer camps, particularly overnight ones, offer a chance to start fresh. Living beyond usual routines and rhythms — away from school and family, out in nature, and bunking close to others, often initially strangers — engenders plenty of opportunity for self-discovery. For some, these breaks from everyday life carry even more meaning. Children's writer and illustrator Jarrett J. Krosoczka's second graphic memoir, Sunshine, tracks a single week at summer camp when he was 16 years old and working as a counselor for children living with serious illnesses, and their families. Best known for Lunch Lady — a cheeky, hilarious, and popular graphic novel series for kids, of Dogman ilk, about an undercover spy who also serves school lunch — Krosoczka first set out to tell his own story in Hey, Kiddo. A National Book Award finalist, this 2018 graphic memoir describes his childhood and teenage years in Worcester, Mass., where he was raised by his grandparents while his heroin-addicted mother mostly communicated via phone calls, letters, and drawings — as she was often in jail or halfway housing. His birth father stayed completely out of the picture. Though Krosoczka's grandparents, as he recalls them, were not perfect, they were loving, steadfast, and generous caregivers, supporting his passion by enrolling him in local classes at the Worcester Art Museum and purchasing him a drafting table for his 14 birthday. Hey, Kiddo is a book mainly focused on familial and professional starts, and in it readers are given a passing glimpse, just several pages long, of a summer in high school of monumental change. In this small stretch of time, young Jarrett got his driver's license, received an unexpected first letter from his father, prepared to apply to his dream college, RISD, and volunteered at Camp Sunshine. That one-week experience, summed up in a single line — "it totally changed my life" — is the central focus of this latest, moving memoir. Aimed at young adult readers though likely gratifying for all ages, Sunshine is earnestly told, rendered as it is in Krosoczka's steady lines and delicate washes. Some of his visuals, especially the larger, silent images, could easily pass for small paintings. Composed of eight chapters, the small volume of comics follows our narrator from his entry as a volunteer into this unknown world to its impactful aftermath. As the author/illustrator explains in his introduction, this was not a sad endeavor, as so many people told him they would have expected it to be. Instead it was life-affirming. "The kids I met weren't dying — they were living," he explains. "Living life to its fullest." Krosoczka, as the "geeky kid who could draw," and five of his classmates, a motley crew, have no idea what to expect as new volunteers. Each is given an assignment and reminded that, first and foremost, their jobs are to take care of others. "Make sure families eat first and always have what they need," a chipper head counselor, "Pappa Frank," tells them. Most of the staff are older than the small group of high schoolers of which Krosoczka is part. He learns some of their backgrounds later, like Frank's admission that he, too, had cancer as a teen. Copyright © 2023 by Jarrett J. Krosoczka/Graphix/Scholastic Inc.

Over the course of his stay, Jarrett meets and helps out with a vivacious family of four — a mom and three kids, including Eric, the youngest, who has just finished up a round of chemotherapy as treatment for leukemia. Its not only the sweet and energetic Eric himself that Jarrett connects with, but Eric's older brother and sister, Jason and Mary, too. Jarrett is also assigned to Diego, a 13-year-old with brain cancer that has already affected his mobility and cognitive skills. At first a reluctant participant, Diego ultimately connects with Jarrett over drawings of superheroes and other popular comics figures. Much of Krosoczka's memory of that week seems to have been mobilized by footage he saved from a camcorder he had taken along with him to document the week. Towards the end of the book and in an author's note following, he testifies to the continued investment he has had in many of the lives he first encountered there. The moral of the story — "Life can be hard and difficult, but it is also short," as he writes in his author's note — is no less powerful for its predictability. Here as elsewhere, Krosoczka has a talent for uncovering the bountifulness and grace that can emerge from harsh, and otherwise quotidian, realities. His is, indeed, an art of living live to the fullest. [ad_2] #Jarrett #Krosoczkas #graphic #memoir #Sunshine #NPR

[thenexusofsouls]

What was the muse you mentioned you were planning to revive? I'm so curious :o Also lmaoo poor Tony, adopting Nebula right after he already lost a "child" (Peter) and right before becoming an actual father... now, Nebula might reunite with him in the afterlife. Tbh it's looking like a few gotgs are gonna die.. which... *LOUD EXHALE* They are such comfort characters I love these weird ass space misfits 💔

{i am the caretaker of souls} Honestly, death is not the worst thing that can happen to MCU characters in my opinion. I mean... look at Wanda and Vision, heh. Wanda’s been just mentally destroyed and gone down a very dark path, and Vision... *sigh* Poor Vision. Leaving him dead would have been better for him and for fans, I think. To refurbish him like a cell phone was just... I know White Vis was in the comics and all that, but I was really hoping they wouldn’t go there in the MCU... and they did. I prefer a good death to a bad one, or to writers just screwing up the character and disappointing fans.

There are plenty of characters where, even though they died, they had good deaths and frankly their lives would have been hell if they’d still gone on living for various reasons. Some muses I used to write or still do have had those kinds of deaths, where they died protecting others in some heroic fashion that either redeems them somewhat or at least has them go out on a good note to be remembered positively for. Carlos from the Resident Evil live action movies comes to mind. Also, Luther from Red Widow. And I would’ve said Vision too had he um... stayed dead. Pietro, certainly, although I have a lotta problems with the setup and mechanics of his death, but... yeah, he died a hero and there’s no better way to go out.

I’m fine with a character I love dying as long as that death is A Good Death™, it’s meaningful, and it leaves fans on a good note. Tony’s death, as rough as it was for fans, was definitely a good one for him that let him go out a hero and in a way that fans will always remember him positively for. I prefer this... to... A Bad Death™, where it’s meaningless or overly terrible for fans or it’s just poor writing and doesn’t make sense. Or, and this is the one I hate the most, a death that is an insult to a lotta things the character holds dear, identifies as, or stands for. Ned Stark from GoT/ASoIaF, for example. Also, I would argue and have argued in the past, Nuada from Hellboy II.

And characters don’t have to die to be ruined. Steve Rogers, I’m looking at you. What they did to him in the MCU was terrible. There aren’t many things that I outright reject from canon, but his ending in Endgame is one of them. Completely out of character and bad writing. I would have preferred him to die heroically like Tony than for the writers to do that to him. I am not an arrogant person (or most times, even a confident person, heh), but I could have written him a better ending than those writers did. But anyway, my point is... just have hope that, if they do kill off some GotG people, they get A Good Death™ and aren’t ruined by the writers, heh.

Okay. Now. As far as the muse I was thinking of reviving... yeeeeeah, I was actually hoping nobody remembered that I said that, haha. Only because I said that and then things got crazy in my life and now I don’t foresee having the time to bring back an old muse as complex as him right now. I still want to revive him, I just need time to re-watch his movie, go through his blog and re-familiarize myself with all my headcanons and a ton of aspects of his life that I fleshed out beyond canon, and I do have a fanfic that I stopped writing a few years ago that I really should go back and finish. If I can do all of those things, I think I can get back into writing him.

He’s not the kind of muse I want to just jump into, and after 3-4 years of him being quiet and me not writing him at all, I know he’s going to come out a bit different than before. I’m a different person now than I was 4 years ago. A lot has happened in my life, not all of it good, and that’s fine, but I need to find my voice with him where it stands now and not necessarily try to emulate the way I used to write him. So yeah, it’s just a matter of having the time to do all of this. I have a 6-day hiatus coming up, but it’s for work, so I’m not sure I’m going to have time then, but then I’m off for a month (which honestly is more like three weeks because I need to start prepping early before Spring semester), so... I’m optimistic that maybe I’ll have time then? *shrugs* I’ll try.

But umm... yeah he’s actually a muse I already mentioned earlier, heh. Nuada from Hellboy II. I want to bring him here and make him a private muse, only because his blog still has like 600+ followers and I can’t take on that kind of new activity right now. Also, because I know he’s going to come out different after such a long hiatus from writing him, I kindof want to distance myself from my old blog and the way I used to write him before. If his was a side blog, I would probably archive or delete and start a new one, but because it’s my main that all my other rp blogs are sides of, I can’t get rid of it, and I don’t want him to have his own blog because that will invite a lot more activity than I have time for. So... he’s going to be hiding here on my multi once I can get him set up. But don’t tell him that, because according to him, he never hides from anything. 🙄