#nicholas scratch fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

anyasathenaeum · 6 months

Text

Elysium (Dad!Vash fic) - Chapter 2

A/N: Hello again everybody! Here is chapter 2 to my Dad!Vash fic that I randomly got inspiration to write. This chapter is a heavy-duty angst platter, make sure you read the warnings because this gets kinda dark and real sad. There's hurt/comfort in there too, though. And she's a chonker at 6.4k words. Anyways, enjoy! This chapter was cross-posted to AO3 here.

Story Summary: Vash the Stampede remains in hiding after the disaster of Julai city. In the year since the disaster, you and Vash have had children and are living a quiet life in town, until one day, the arrival of bandits threatens to rip away the life you and Vash have built together. What will Vash give to protect his family?

Warnings: Reader is AFAB in this work, referred to using she/her pronouns and "Mama" by the kids, explicit and graphic descriptions of guns, blood and violence, the children are included in the angst and violence so please proceed accordingly

Chapter Wordcount: 6.4k

Chapter 2: Calamity

Darkness surrounded you. There was nothing you could see or smell or feel near you that could tell you anything about where you were.

'Vash... Oh, Vash...' You thought to yourself over and over, 'I'm so sorry. Please... be okay.... please, find us.'

It had been complete and utter chaos before either you or your children could react. The three of you had been happily playing together in the living room of your home when you suddenly heard the front door open and shut. You thought none the wiser of it and called out when you heard the door close.

"How was town, my love?"

However, when you received no reply, you immediately knew something was wrong. Before you could even turn your head, you saw little Rem and little Nicholas's eyes go wide and Rem screamed out "MAMA!" before you felt something hard connect with the back of your head and you plunged into darkness. You never even had a chance to look at the person who had attacked you, but given the fear in your children's faces, it wasn't somebody you knew.

Eventually, the darkness that had surrounded you for however long you'd been unconscious for began to recede, and you began to hear snippets of conversations happening around you.

"-ou think this was a good idea?"

"The bastard had it coming for showing us up like that!"

"If you're sure, boss."

You could make out two distinct voices - the first sounded uncertain and nervous, wobbling slightly as the person spoke, while the second sounded aggressive and irritated, as if trying to justify their decision. If you had to guess by the sounds of the voices, and the fact that the word "boss" was used, this was a conversation between a subordinate and their higher-up. Were these the individuals responsible for your kidnapping? Your children's kidnapping?

With a quiet groan, you slowly opened your eyes, your head throbbing painfully where you were struck when you were knocked out as the light shone in your face. As your vision adjusted to the light, you began to look around, trying to determine where exactly you were. It was a decrepit building, long-abandoned by the looks of it. The walls were faded and the wallpaper peeling, all the windows were cracked or shattered and scratched up from the sandstorms the building had weathered. Piles of sand lay in empty corridors that stretched endlessly, the glaring suns shining down through cracks and holes that had been made with the passage of time and lack of care given to the structure. As you began to look around, you put the pieces together of where you were - the abandoned school house that rested on the outskirts of town. You were laying on the ground, your hands tied together behind your back and your ankles bound together with rope.

"Hmm? Boss! She's up!"

You heard the first voice call out, and as you looked up, you saw a particularly nasty-looking bandit's face come into focus, smirking down at you.

"Ah? Well, well, well, good morning, Missus Saverem! About time you rejoined us in the land of the living!"

"Maybe if you or your goons hadn't hit me as hard, I would've rejoined you sooner," You snapped at the bandit, glaring at him with a look that certainly would've killed him were it possible.

"You've got some fire in you, haven't you, doll? I guess that's why your husband chose you, huh?" The bandit chuckled coldly, and you felt your heart sink in your chest as the bandit brought up Vash. What did he have to do with all this?

Before you could retort, a small sound caught your attention - a terrified whimper. You quickly looked towards the source of the sound, and you felt a combination of emotions flood your veins. Fear. Helplessness. Rage.

The source of the sound: your children.

Rem and Nicholas were laying not too far away from you, both of them bound exactly as you were. However, in addition to the ropes binding their arms and legs, there were pieces of fabric tied across their mouths to silence any potential cries or screams that would alert people to the situation. Nicholas was squirming like crazy, trying desperately to free himself from his bindings, while Rem was looking at you, the fear she was feeling unmistakably visible in her eyes, tears coursing down her little cheeks. She let out another terrified whimper as she tried to cry out to you.

"Release them!" You shouted at the bandit leader, your rage blazing through you, "They're just children! Let them go!"

"Hmm, I don't think so," The bandit leader replied coolly, a heartless chuckle escaping him as he snapped his fingers at his subordinates. The other bandits present came over to where Nicholas and Rem were laying and picked them both up, causing them both to wriggle uncontrollably and let out muffled cries of terror.

"Leave them alone! Put them down!" You screamed, your voice borderline pleading for the safety of your children. You had never felt so helpless in your life, unable to reach your babies, unable to protect them. They were mere feet away from you and felt more out of reach than they had ever been before.

"Move 'em. As we discussed," The bandit leader commanded, and his henchmen swiftly headed towards the outside of the building.

Before you could scream out again or even think, a burning pain erupted in your head as the bandit leader grabbed your hair and pulled hard, his face getting way too close to yours. The grin on his face made you want to beat him to a pulp, pure unadulterated hatred coursing through you. You let out a pained hiss, refusing to cry out as the man pulled your hair.

"We're following 'em, doll."

Another pained sound escaped you as he pulled on your hair ruthlessly, and you struggled as you tried to escape the bandit leader's grasp, but to no avail. The bandit leader simply laughed at your pathetic attempt to free yourself of him, and you found yourself being dragged by one of your arms through the sand and across the floor of the abandoned building. You winced as you felt sharp, broken tiles scratching and tearing your skin, but you bit your lip hard to keep yourself quiet, refusing to allow the bandits and your children to have any inkling of the pain you were feeling. You refused to give in. For Rem and for Nicholas.

By the time you were dragged outside, your legs and arms were torn and bleeding in multiple places, but you refused to so much as glance at your many wounds. You could hear Rem and Nicholas's muffled screams as they no doubt caught sight of you bleeding, and you quickly looked over to where your children were laying in the hot sand, both looking at you with eyes wide with terror.

"I'm okay, babies," You called to your children, your tone as gentle and soothing as you could possibly make it, "Don't worry. Mama's alright. They're just scratches."

Nicholas continued to thrash aggressively, still fighting his bindings with every ounce of energy he could possibly muster as he tried to get to you, regardless of the hold that the bandit had on him - a truly stubborn spirit, much like his namesake. Rem, however, lay in the sand calmly, just gazing at you and studying you carefully for any sign of distress. When she heard your words, she relaxed, no longer crying out through her gag, instead just focusing on you and keeping her eyes on you.

"That's right, my love," You called to Rem, smiling at her comfortingly, "Keep your eyes on Mama. I'm right here. Nick, love, stop squirming. It's okay. You're okay."

Nicholas immediately stopped when you spoke to him, his wide eyes looking up at you incredulously, as if surprised and slightly insulted that you should tell him to stop fighting. Had the situation not been what it was, you would've laughed - little Nicholas was proving to be a lot more like Wolfwood than you had ever anticipated. Your choice of name for him could not have been more appropriate.

As you looked at the bandits holding you and your children hostage, you realized that none of them were looking at you or Rem or Nicholas anymore. All of them were looking towards the town, and when you followed their gazes, you saw exactly what they were looking at; there was a figure a little ways off, somebody walking towards the group. You didn't even have to catch sight of their features to know who it was, your heart beginning to thunder in your chest.

Vash.

***

Vash didn't really remember how or when he got to the path leading to the abandoned school house. All he remembered was the feeling of his heart shattering in his chest when he found your wedding ring, the children's broken toy, and the note left behind as indication of your whereabouts. Endless questions raced in his mind as he took off running towards the place where his family supposedly was. Were you and the children hurt? Were you alive? What would he find when he got there? Would it just be a trade-off? Him for you and the children? Or would he come too late to save you all? Would he find his family, all those he loves in the world, too far gone to save?

'Gods, no... please, no,' Vash thought to himself on repeat, pleading and begging any deity that existed that he hadn't lost his family the moment his peacekeeping nature made him interfere with the bandits. 'Let them be safe. I'll never ask for anything ever again. Let them all be safe. (Y/N)... Nicholas... Rem...'

Your faces swirled in Vash's mind, all three of you smiling, laughing with not a single care in the world, just as you had this morning, the same morning that felt like it was a different lifetime now. You... his life partner, his best friend, his spouse, his soulmate and better half. Nicholas and Rem, the proof of your and Vash's love, half of him and half of you embodied, his babies that he loved more than life itself and would sacrifice anything for. All three of you... his reasons for still living.

As Vash approached the abandoned school building, he could see figures coming out of it. He could make out Rem and Nicholas, tied up and hoisted over a bandit's shoulders as he carried them outside before laying them down in the hot sand. Shortly afterwards, another figure appeared, dragging a final figure behind it mercilessly. It was you, also bound, and from what Vash could see at this distance, you were bleeding.

A spike of white-hot rage went through Vash. How dare they hurt you? You hadn't done anything wrong. He was the reason to blame, not you. He should be the one being injured for his daring to interfere, not you. Thankfully, from what Vash could see, neither one of the children were hurt, and from what he could make out, you were saying something to them, smiling at them in a way that made his heart twist violently in his chest - you were comforting them. Vash's love and respect for you, although already endless and infinite, reached a new high as he witnessed you speaking and trying to reassure your children, even though you were hurt and undoubtedly in pain.

The bandits caught sight of Vash and looked over at him, all of them focused on him as he approached. He watched as you followed the bandits' gazes, and when your eyes landed on him, he saw them widen in recognition. Then, Rem and Nicholas looked over and saw him, and they began to squirm again and let out desperate, muffled screams. The sound of his children screaming for him through their gags made Vash feel like somebody had reached into his chest and torn out his heart and crushed it in a vice.

"Quiet, you brats!" One of the bandits shouted, and Vash watched as Rem and Nicholas both flinched at the shout and stopped thrashing, their eyes wide in terror.

"Don't you yell at my children!" You shouted in turn at the bandit, anger blazing in your eyes. Vash would've smirked at your feistiness had he not been terrified for your and the children's safety. The bandit in question seemed to be taken by surprise when you yelled at him, but the bandit leader just let out a bellowing laugh as Vash got close enough to become a concern.

"Glad to see you got my note, Mr. Saverem!" The bandit leader taunted, smiling coldly at Vash before sweeping his arm out dramatically, "As you can see, I think your luck has begun to run out."

Vash felt his heart racing in his chest as the bandit spoke, but he fought to maintain a façade of complete and utter calm, so neither you nor the children would be able to tell just how scared he was for all of you. He had a few ideas of how this could play out, and most of them were ugly, to say the least. His only goal was to protect you and Nicholas and Rem, regardless of the cost, and to get you all out of this situation as unscathed as possible.

"What do you want?" Vash asked bluntly, keeping his eyes on the bandit leader and keeping tabs on the others in his periphery. He continued to approach slowly until the bandit leader suddenly un-holstered his pistol and pointed it at him, the cold smile on the bandit leader's face only widening.

"That's close enough."

Vash, however, didn't listen, focused only on getting as close as possible to you, Rem and Nicholas, so that when things went down, he could quickly get over to you and get you out of danger. It wasn't until the bandit leader quickly pointed his pistol down at your head that Vash froze in his tracks. He could see the other bandits pulling out their pistols before pointing them down at Rem and Nicholas, causing the children to scream hysterically through their gags as they began to thrash crazily, the scene and sounds shredding Vash's heart in his chest. He bit his lip so hard that he could taste blood, refusing to give in to the stinging of his eyes, not letting the bandits realize they were pointing their pistols at the only things keeping him alive. It was tantamount to having a pistol flush up against his chest, right over his heart, and preparing to pull the trigger.

"Stop, stop!" Vash exclaimed, putting his hands up in surrender. "Please, just don't hurt them! Your fight is with me, not them."

The bandit leader let out a maniacal laugh, and when Nicholas and Rem continued to scream and squirm, he glanced at the bandits near them and snapped, "Shut 'em up! Now!"

Vash couldn't help but watch as the bandits pressed their boots into Rem and Nicholas's backs, pinning them into the sand and keeping them from wriggling, pistols still pointed at their heads. This only terrified Rem and Nicholas more, causing them not only to scream, but now to cry hysterically too, tears of terror coursing down their cheeks as their little bodies were pinned down.

"Please, stop! They're innocent!" Vash pleaded, watching his babies screaming and crying helplessly in terror as the bandits pinned them down. He could hear you roaring at the bandits to get their feet off your babies, and he watched you manage to get to your knees in a rage, fighting to get to your children as you hurled every possible insult you could think of at the bandits. The rage and terror continued to grow in Vash's chest as he watched the bandits mistreat his family. The final thread keeping him calm began to fray with every second that passed. He could feel his façade beginning to slip, his true emotions, his rage, his hatred, his desire to hurt those threatening you and the children beginning to take over.

The final thread snapped the moment after the bandit leader's pistol fired and the bullet lodged itself into your back as you fought to get to your children.

The force of the bullet knocked you forward into the sand, and Vash could only watch, stunned into silence, as blood began pooling beneath you as you lay motionless in front of Nicholas and Rem, their horrified little faces stained with sprays of your blood.

"M-Mayfly?..."

Red. That's all Vash could see. The red of your blood, mixing into the sand beneath you. The rage and hatred boiling over within him, driving him to the point of breaking. You were hurt, possibly dead, in front of your children.

In front of his children.

Vash didn't even register the pain of his skin cracking and shifting to allow his beautiful, feathered yet misshapen wings to begin bursting forth all over from him. His back, his arms, his torso, wings burst through his skin, feathers growing and covering his wings and body. His fangs, while present before, became prominent now as he snarled at the bandits. The beautiful blue of his iris was taken over by an ethereal, inhuman white as nothing but pure, unaltered rage coursed through him. He could no longer feel sadness or fear, no longer masquerading as a human. Vash was now a calamity, the embodiment of fury itself, set on destroying whatever lay before it.

The pure terror on the bandits' faces as they witnessed Vash's true form did nothing but feed the flame of Vash's rage, of his hatred, as neither you nor his children had been spared from the terror inflicted upon you by the bandits.

"S-Stop! S-Stop, o-or... or we'll shoot them!"

The bandit leader's voice was no longer cold and confident, but rather shaky, weak and filled with fear. He made the grave mistake of cocking his pistol and pointing it directly at Rem's head, her little eyes filled with horrified tears and a scream of terror slipping through her gag.

With unmatchable speed, Vash was gripping the bandit leader's arm so hard that the man cried out and dropped the pistol instantly. However, Vash didn't stop there, tightening his grip until he felt a crack and the bandit howled in pain, struggling to free himself of Vash's crushing hold.

"You hurt my family. You hurt my wife. You terrorize my children, and now, you threaten to kill them before me. You threaten to take everything I treasure most in this world away from me. For that..." Vash's voice was scarily level, echoing across the dunes of sand and filled with nothing but sheer venom, his glowing white eyes remaining fixed on the bandit leader's face, "I'm going to make you pay."

The bandits hovering over Rem and Nicholas scrambled backwards as they attempted to flee, screaming and hollering in pure fear and panic, but Vash's wings had extended and managed to wrap around them, before throwing them with inhuman force towards the abandoned school building. The sound of the bandits making contact with the solid walls echoed, and they both fell motionless into the sand, leaving the others running for dear life while the bandit leader remained in Vash's hold.

"S-Spare me! Please, spare me! W-We'll never step foot i-in this town again! I swear! P-Please!"

The bandit leader begged and pleaded pathetically, tears going down his face as he continued trying to free his now-broken wrist from Vash's grasp. However, Vash didn't let go, instead tightening his grasp even more and making the bandit leader howl in agony and bringing his face very close to the leader's, his voice still scarily quiet and level but still retaining its otherworldly air.

"You think you deserve mercy after what you've done?"

Before the bandit leader could even begin to process Vash's words, his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he dropped like a stone into the sand, going unconscious from a combination of pure terror and pain from Vash gripping his broken wrist, who had broken other bones, too, in his rage.

As the final threat went unconscious, Vash's gaze went to his family. He could see the twins, now freed of their bindings, kneeling by your side, shaking you with their tiny fists and screeching for you to wake up, tears pouring down their faces.

"MAMA! MAMA, WAKE UP! MAMA, PLEASE! MAMA!"

Both Rem and Nicholas's voices, begging you to wake up, broke Vash's heart. Thankfully, in this form, he could sense your heart still beating in your chest - you were luckily still alive. You were not yet lost to him or to your children. The bullet had missed anything vital, but you were still bleeding and needed help as soon as you could get it.

However, as Vash took a step towards your motionless form, the twins looked at him with pure horror in their eyes. Vash's heart plummeted as Rem and Nicholas clutched each other and began to scream at the top of their lungs, clearly terrified by Vash's form.

"Nicholas... Rem... my loves, it's me," Vash spoke softly, trying to seem less threatening, lowering his wings and approaching them slowly, "It's Papa. I'm your Papa."

But the moment he reached his hand and wings out towards you, Nicholas ran forward and placed his tiny body in front of yours, his arms outstretched as he looked up at Vash almost defiantly. His beautiful blue eyes, a mirror of Vash's own in human form, were still filled with fear and tears continued to slip down his cheeks, but his little voice was determined.

"No! Don't touch Mama! You'll hurt her! Go away!"

Rem bravely stood beside her twin, her own face filled with terror and fear as she looked at Vash in this form, but she stood her ground, protecting her mother and echoing her brother.

"Go away! Don't touch our Mama!"

Vash kneeled down before them so that he was eye-level with them, before closing his eyes and lowering his head, taking deep breaths as he tried frantically to calm himself enough to revert back to his human form. Slowly, his wings retracted and his feathers began to molt, his blue irises reappearing as he calmed down, allowing himself to let go of the fury and the hatred that had been coursing through him; the fury and the hatred that had died the moment he saw his children's terror directed at him.

Eventually, Vash was back to normal, and when he opened his eyes, it broke his heart to see that his children were still looking at him warily, clearly unsure if they trusted him despite recognizing him now as their father.

"My babies... my loves, it's me," Vash tried again, his voice gently pleading as his heart twisted in his chest painfully. "I'm sorry I scared you both. I'm not gonna hurt Mama, I promise. I'd never hurt Mama. But Mama needs help right now. We need to go."

Nicholas and Rem stood their ground, looking uncertainly at Vash before nodding and turning towards where you lay on the sand. Vash stood slowly and stepped forward to embrace the twins, but as he hugged them to him, the horrified shriek they each let out and the way they struggled to escape his grip broke Vash's heart in a million pieces then and there.

'What have I done?' Vash thought to himself as he let go of Nicholas and Rem immediately, seeing how his own children stumbled in an attempt to get away from him, scared of their own father. He hadn't accounted for the fact that snapping would've terrified his children to the point where they no longer felt safe around him. Letting them see him like that terrified them worse than anything else had that day. A soft sniffle escaped Vash as his emotions finally overwhelmed him, and tears welled up in his eyes as he moved towards you, scooping you up into his arms gently. Your head rested limply against Vash's shoulder, and seeing the blood staining your skin only worsened his heartbreak. He pressed his forehead against yours, squeezing his eyes shut as a sob escaped from Vash's lips, his tears falling onto your cheeks.

How did this happen?

"Rem... Nicholas, come on. Please, my loves," Vash said softly, not even trying to hide his tears anymore as he looked at his children. "We need to go to the doctor right now. Mama needs help."

Nicholas and Rem stood away from him, but seeing how he held you in his arms, and watching as Vash began to cry holding you, the twins' fear seemed to lessen and they nodded, slowly following Vash at a distance as he took you to the doctor in town.

Immediately, the doctor jumped into action, his old eyes wide behind his glasses as he saw the bullet wound in your back and the scratches and cuts all over your limbs. Two of the nurses looked after Rem and Nicholas, examining them and wiping the blood and sand off their face and giving them lollipops for their cooperation while the rest of the team looked after you.

Vash, however, isolated himself in the tiny waiting room of the clinic, resting his head in his hands as he covered his face, his whole body shaking. Guilt, sadness, helplessness, heartbreak, fear, self-hatred, all of these emotions swirled within him as he fought to stay in one piece. Snippets of what had occurred replayed in his mind in an endless loop; the twins being pinned down, their desperate cries and tears of terror, you fighting to get to them and getting shot in front of them, the horror in the twins' faces as they watched Vash take out the bandits in his Plant form, the screams they let out when Vash tried to hug them, them protecting you from him...

"Mr. Saverem?"

Vash's head shot up as the doctor looked at him, his expression understanding and kind. He walked over and sat in the rickety chair next to Vash's, sighing heavily.

"(Y/N)'s fine. She's recovering now. Managed to get the bullet out no problem and stitch her up. But she'll need some tender, loving care for a couple weeks as she recovers. No lifting, no twisting, nothing that could pop a stitch or reopen the wound."

Vash nodded, letting out a breath of relief as the doctor announced that you would be fine. He ran a hand through his long, messy blonde hair, and replied shakily, "Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate it. Thank you for looking after her and my children."

The doctor nodded before frowning, "I believe I owe you an apology, Mr. Saverem. This incident was because I revealed your name to the bandit after you saved me from their beating me. I'm so sorry, Mr. Saverem."

"This isn't your fault, doc," Vash replied immediately, looking at the old man with a guilty expression, "It's mine. I couldn't even protect my own family."

"But you did, son," The doctor said, looking back at Vash with a kind smile, "You protected them. They're still here because of you. At least, that's what the twins have been saying. Although they still seem pretty shaken themselves, the poor little ones."

Vash bit down on his already-injured lip once more, fighting hard against the stinging behind his eyes again as the doctor brought up Rem and Nicholas being shaken. Their screams of fear echoed in Vash's ears, and a choked, strangled sobbing sound escaped from him against his will. The doctor placed his hand on Vash's back, rubbing it comfortingly as Vash finally began to fall to pieces.

Soft sobs escaped from Vash as he covered his face with his hands, his tears going down his real and prosthetic arms, his whole body shaking with every sob as his heartbreak overwhelmed him at last. The doctor stayed with him as he cried, not saying anything but just rubbing his back and offering what comfort he could. After a few minutes, Vash tried his best to pull himself back together and get his emotions under control, wiping his face and sniffling as he struggled to calm down.

"It's alright, son," The doctor spoke softly, his tone gentle and understanding, "You and your family have survived a terrifying ordeal. I'd be worried if you weren't upset."

The doctor stood slowly from his rickety chair, before disappearing back into the clinic for a few minutes. Then, when the doctor returned, there was a smile on his face.

"Your wife is awake. She's asking for you."

Vash's heart jolted in his chest as he shot to his feet, immediately following the doctor back to the room where you were laying, recuperating from being patched up. As he stepped foot into your room, you sat up in your bed and your eyes widened at the sight of your husband, his eyes red and puffy from his tears, the tear tracks still evident on his cheeks. You reached out towards him, wanting him to come to you so you could comfort him, hold him, reassure him that everything was okay.

Vash immediately walked over to you, his steps large as he urgently made his way to your side. He hugged you tightly, his body pressing against your own as he held you close. You could feel him shaking, and you squeezed him tightly to you as best you could without agitating your wound.

"Vash... oh, Vash, I'm so sorry," You mumbled immediately, hugging your husband with every ounce of strength you had in your body. "I couldn't protect them. Rem... Nicholas... I failed to keep them safe. They kidnapped us and knocked me out, and-"

"It's not your fault, Mayfly," Vash cut you off, his tears beginning to course down his cheeks once again as he saw how much you blamed yourself for this, "It's mine. I'm so sorry, (Y/N). It's all my fault. I stepped in when the-the bandits, they were attacking the doctor, and... and... they saw the picture I had of you and the twins. They went after you because of me. I'm so, so sorry. You got hurt because I couldn't protect you. Because I was reckless and stupid. Forgive me, (Y/N). Please... forgive me. I'm so sorry. So, so sorry."

You felt your heart breaking in your chest as Vash wept and begged for your forgiveness, and all you could do was tug him until he was curled up in your hospital bed next to you, sobbing into you as you held him close. You ran your fingers through his hair to soothe him, just as you had done over the years you had known him, pressing gentle kisses to Vash's face in an attempt to comfort him.

"I forgave you long before you could ever do anything needing forgiveness, Vash," You whispered to him, kissing his cheek tenderly as you held him close, "You don't need my forgiveness for this. You protected us."

"I... I lost control, (Y/N)," Vash admitted through his tears, sobbing into your skin as he does so, "I... I changed. I changed into... into..."

Vash was unable to continue, weeping harder than before as his memories replayed of those moments, of everything that happened when he was in his Plant form. However, in seeing his distress, you managed to put the pieces together as to what had happened.

"Your Plant form?" You finished for him, your tone gentle as your husband sobbed in your arms, inconsolable; all Vash could do was nod against you, his tears only worsening.

You couldn't understand why Vash was so distraught by the fact that he had changed into his Plant form, especially given that your entire family was safe. He had managed to protect you all.

As if reading your mind, Vash sobbed out, "T-They saw, (Y/N). Rem and Nick... they saw. I terrified them, (Y/N). They screamed when I tried to hug them afterwards, they-they fought to escape me. They wouldn't let me near you. They... they thought I'd hurt you. They're terrified of me."

The heartbreak, so evident in Vash's words and on his face, was enough to make you tear up. You knew that he loved Rem and Nicholas more than life itself, and that he would give absolutely anything for them. So to have them be afraid of Vash, afraid to let him hug them or be near them, to see him as a threat? Your heart ached for him worse than ever before.

"Oh, Vash..." You whispered softly, tears welling in your eyes as you held him close, just letting him clutch onto you and take comfort from you however he needed. "I'm so sorry, my love. But... I'm sure they're not terrified. You frightened them, yes, but give them time. Today... was a very difficult and scary day for them. They went through a lot, even if they weren't physically injured. Seeing you like that on top of everything else... must've just been the tipping point. Give them time, my love. They're in shock. They need time."

As you spoke to Vash, continuing your loving stroking of his hair, he began to slowly calm down, his sobs becoming little more than hiccups and sniffles as his head rested on your chest. You had never seen Vash so distraught before, and it both warmed and broke your heart to see just how much you and Rem and Nicholas meant to him. It was undoubtable - you three were everything to him. Eventually, Vash's exhaustion got the better of him, and you watched as his eyes, those beautiful, expressive eyes you loved so much, fluttered shut, and listened to his breathing evening out as he fell into slumber in your arms.

You studied your husband's face as he slept in your arms, taking in every single detail you possibly could. His face was still youthful, almost as youthful as when you had first met him, and his chin and jaw was covered in the stubble you had grown to love on him. You gently traced over each of his features with the tip of his finger, over his eyebrows, his eyes, swollen from all his tears, his nose, his tear-stained cheeks, his lips, his jawline, you were committing him to memory.

"Mama!"

A small cry came from the doorway, and as you looked up, you saw Rem and Nicholas standing there, both looking ruffled and shaken but otherwise unharmed. Your heart ached as you saw the look on your children's faces as they looked at Vash; their expressions were unsure, cautious, even slightly afraid. Both Rem and Nicholas shifted anxiously from foot to foot, as if deciding whether they were going to be brave enough to approach you while Vash slept in your arms.

You decided to press a gentle kiss to Vash's forehead before brushing a strand of blonde hair out of his face, and then looking back at your children, who were watching you carefully. When they saw that Vash wasn't a threat and that you weren't afraid of him, they approached your hospital bed slowly.

"Come here, my loves," You patted the bed next to you on the side opposite Vash, and to your surprise, Rem jumped up without hesitation. Nicholas, however, seemed more reluctant at first, until his sister jumped up. Then, he followed suit.

You pulled both of your children into a tight hug, feeling their little arms wrap around you as they snuggled in against you right next to Vash. You could see Rem and Nicholas studying Vash's sleeping form carefully, as if trying to make sense of what they were looking at.

"I know Papa became different today," You spoke softly to them, gazing at Rem and Nicholas as you spoke, "But he loves you both so, so much. You see, Papa is special. He has special powers that let him protect us, just like he did today. When he needs to protect us, he grows wings, so he can pull us into a big hug and hold us close."

You paused, before pulling your children into a big hug to drive your point home. Rem and Nicholas were both watching you with wide, curious eyes, taking in your every word. You took their little hands in yours and slowly had them trace over Vash's face, much the way you had done before they came in, as well as down his arms and to his hands. As they traced over their father's skin, you taught them about Vash's Plant form as best you could, telling them as much as you knew about it and what it meant. By the end of it, Rem and Nicholas looked amazed, and they gazed down at their father as he slept next to them.

"When he wakes up, Papa needs a big, big hug from all of us. Do you think you can give him that?" You asked gently, looking at your children.

Nicholas simply nodded, but Rem shifted on the bed and got closer to Vash as he slept, looking down at her father. She leaned down and pressed a little kiss to Vash's cheek.

"I love you, Papa. Thank you for saving us."

Her gentle whisper and the way her small hand rested on Vash's stubbled jaw made you want to cry, and you heard Nicholas mumble softly, "Thank you, Papa. I love you."

For the first time since your kidnapping, even if just for a split second, you knew that things would be okay. There was still a long recovery ahead of you, and your children would likely need some time to work through everything they had been through, but you would work through it together, as a family. Eventually, Rem and Nicholas fell asleep on your bed, too, tucked safely and happily in between yourself and Vash, curled up in a position identical to Vash's. You couldn't help but laugh a little to yourself as you gazed at the twins and your husband. Three of a kind.

"Mrs. Saverem? There was a letter addressed to you that was dropped off by the postmaster."

One of the nurses stuck her head into your room, and you nodded your head, allowing her to hand you the letter. On the envelope, you could see your name written out in familiar handwriting - one you hadn't seen in a few months and one whose owner you knew very well.

Wolfwood.

You quickly tore open the envelope and began to read its contents. You felt your heart drop into your stomach as you took in the words on the page.

"Knives is alive. He's out to destroy humanity. We need Vash."

#anya's athenaeum #trigun stampede #trigun stampede x reader #trigun x reader #trigun #vash the stampede #vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader #eriks x reader #eriks!vash #trigun eriks

97 notes · View notes

h4venpha · 4 months

Text

⸺ caught together

✦ vash the stampede x nicholas d. wolfwood ✦ contents: band!au (non-polycule/separate timeline) ✦ WC: 392 ✦ notes: imagine this is from a slowburn band au vw fic and they have hella tension and they cant keep away from each other (i can't write long ass slowburn fics for the life of me ok jus imagine it...)

“you know what they’re sayin’ about us in the press?” wolfwood grumbles, leaning his shoulder against the door frame of vash’s room with a wadded up morning news paper in his hand and milly’s cute, floral mug in his other, filled with his steamy black coffee. it’s only 8am, don't expect him to grab the right mug five minutes after waking up. he takes a noisy sip as his dark eyes trace over vash’s lanky figure stirring under rumpled sheets. wolfwood sighs before flipping them open again.

“‘gunsmoke’s drummer and lead guitarist seen together—‘“wolfwood drones, reading off the flimsy newspaper filled with dramatized comments and theories from journalists who have nothing better to do than invade into people’s lives for the sake of ‘entertainment’.

“—followed by a picture of us after that concert we had last week.” scratching his head, he looks up from the newspaper and meets vash’s sleepy eyes. even through his grogginess, he can see the cogs creaking in his head.

“…aren’t we always together? because we’re in the same band?” vash mumbles as he rubs his hands over his face, piercings clinking like tiny bells. wolfwood gives him a moment to wipe the sleepiness from his eyes before he rolls the newspaper back up and tosses it over onto his bed.

he blindly reaches for it, holds it above his face, blinks twice.

“oh,” vash tuts quietly, eyebrows furrowing as he sees the poorly printed image and recalls the night of that concert. slight annoyance flashes over his face as he remembers that paparazzi will do anything to get a trending picture, even if it means sneaking around back and snapping flicks. it doesn’t help that the picture was taken purposely to make it look like they were about to kiss behind the building, a sly smile on his face as he leaned in close toward wolfwood smoking with his back to the wall. sure maybe they were going to do a little making out— but it doesn’t mean the paparazzi have to be so nosy.

“could’ve all been avoided if you’d just left me alone to smoke.” wolfwood puts one hands up in surrender, shrugging playfully.

“you turned around at least eight times to look at me during the set— you were tempting me!” vash complains noisily, but wolfwood can see the pink flush in his face.

#h4venpha #vashwood #vash the stampede #nicholas d. wolfwood #trigun #trigun stampede #trigun maximum #trigun 1998 #trigun 2023 #trigun vash #trigun wolfwood #vashwood fic #trigun vashwood #trimax #tristamp #tristamp vash #tristamp wolfwood #trimax vash #trimax wolfwood

30 notes · View notes

browniefox · 5 months

Text

The Very Best Fics - 2

I am making a second 'best fics according to me' because it is very long. You can access the previous post from here.

On this list is: Daredevil, Disco Elysium, Trigun, Psych, Mob Psycho 100, Undertale, Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy VII

Daredevil

My Guardian Avengers (Can I Get A Refund?) - prettybirdy979

Daredevil needs to protect a certain law firm in Hell's Kitchen. He's a little slack about protecting this Matt Murdock fellow though, and the Avengers are only too happy to step in to help. Matt is SO not okay with this. (Shut up Foggy, so what if it's his own fault!)

Prettybirdy979 has done 'Daredevil meets the Avengers' like ten times, and you know what? they hit it out of the park every time. Hell yeah! This one is just as fun, and it's always nice to read a new (uh, new-ish) fic from an author you love :D

Disco Elysium

Excerpts from the Case Notes of Kim Kitsuragi - Hosekisama

Excerpts reference Lieutenant Double-Yefreitor Du Bois' belief that he can (and does) "reload" his own life after failing, like some kind of video game character.

Disco Elysium plays with so many fun video game mechanics, like the 'jamrock shuffle', so honestly the idea that Harry would think in terms of 'reloading' is way fun! I love the ambiguity of whether or not there actually are saves or loads.

Trigun

Start here - AsterAspera ( @aster-aspera )

The first time he wakes, he is in a room. Heavy curtains hang over dusty windowsills and there are crumpled sheets on the bed and crumpled sheets on the floor. The world is quiet while his body screams. Every soft, fleshy, vulnerable part of him is on fire, writhing and roiling in unbearable agony. He wants to move, get away from the mattress that digs into his skin like fingers, like knives, like roots, but his body is frozen without his consent, time stretching endlessly around him as he fights an ocean of pain. And suddenly there are hands on him and worried grey eyes and he wants to scream but his throat is already scraped raw.

We love QPR Vash/Meryl/Wolfwood, and we love stories that drop you into something and you have no idea what's going on. Such a good and interesting fic that drops ideas of what has happened, but also you're not totally sure, and it really puts you into Vash's head for the fic.

I Just Want To Slow Dance With You by easternCriminal

"Wolfwood swears at the radio, and then finally the static parts like the sands after a storm and the warm, slow sounds of a guitar comes out from over the dunes and fills the small room." oOo A soft domestic moment, inspired by Start Here by AsterAspera

Inspired by the fic above, a scene between Meryl and Nicholas (and Vash) as they try and figure out what their dynamic is now. Wonderfully domestic.

Rinse and Repeat by easternCriminal (@the-east-art)

Somehow, Meryl can head the monotone flatline of his heart. And she wakes up again on the road. Meryl starts to realize what is going on.

Time loop, time loop, time loop! Time loops where you're trying so despeartelyl to save someone! Time loops where you start realizing some sacrifices have to be made! Time loops that make you hate and love someone like you never have before!

Press my Corpse against the Wall by Rayawastaken

Meryl kept thinking back to Tonis, small and still so young in his mothers arms. She kept thinking about the fact that if she held onto him a bit stronger, if she had more conviction, he might still have both of his arms. And about how if she had any less of it, Wolfwood might have not woken back up again in that bar. Surely, getting a bit scratched up was worth saving someone’s life. But that’s not how Wolfwood saw it. To him, she’d forever be just some defenseless little thing that stumbled around helplessly and had to be protected. And for all that he complained about Vash having a self-sacrificial streak, he'd rather bleed out on the floor than admit he had needed help. - Wolfwood almost dies, Meryl saves him and gets hurt in the process. They have a fight about it.

I love Mashwood, but the dynamic between Wolfwood and Meryl is often under represented. I especially love this fic's exploration of the fact that Meryl, of the trio, is the most human and the position that puts her in a lot of the time.

CHANGING NATURE (‘TIS THE SEASON) by ainosyn (@tristamp-gunpede)

“How could anyone kill you without killing a part of themselves?” and “I can’t help it, it’s my nature.”

An exploration of all the different ways the story of Trigun could have gone, or could have been told, and about what is inherent to someone's nature. I love this, such a great character study of Knives and Vash.

Never understood a single word he said by aboxthecolourofheartache (@aboxthecolourofheartache)

Meryl drums her fingers on the steering wheel, and Wolfwood gets the sinking feeling of spotting bullshit at a hundred yarz and being unable to do anything about it. “Is it really buried treasure? I don’t believe you,” Meryl sniffs. “You’re stalling or something.” Vash’s lips curl up at the corner and, yes, there’s that mischievous little dimple that heralds doom. “Only one way to find out. If it is buried treasure, next night at a motel is on me. What do you say?" “Hot showers and everything?” Meryl squints at Vash sidelong, she the very picture of suspicion and he of innocence. “Cross my heart,” Vash vows, making a solemn X over his chest. ~~~ A detour turned nightmare, water from the rock, Three Dog Night, and unconventional gestures of trust.

MUST READ MUST READ MUST READ!!!! Best Trigun Fic I think I've ever read, with perfect characterization of Meryl, Vash, and Wolfwood that all feel distinct and accurate, a lot of fun interactions, and just a hint of the good good 'Vash isn't human' stuff I live for.

Psych

All We Are by jumpfall

"I want eyes on Spencer ten minutes ago!" Shawn thinks that maybe another hostage situation is just what they need to bring the team together again.

Love when you find a fic that captures the vibes of the canon so well! The team-as-family in psych is so good and fun, it's what makes it all worthwhile, you know? The characters in Psych are really good, and I'll be honest I live for the times that Shawn manages to actually be selfless and care about others.

the robbed that smiles steals something from the thief by EclipseWing (@shadow-of-the-eclipse)

That one in which Shawn is a con-artist, a liar and a thief.

Hell yeah, EclipseWing, all my homies love EclipseWing! This one is so fun! It's nice to see a Shawn who doesn't get into crime solving but still needs to find something to preoccupy him becoming a theif instead, it's so in person I love it!

Mob Psycho 100

Come Morning Light by NotHereForIt

Reigen is standing in a world that exists, but doesn't, in front of a house that is Mob's, but not, with a man that's dead, but isn't. In which Reigen thinks he's dreaming, and he very much is not.

Dream walking time, hell yeah! In which Reigen helps Mob through is dreams. Poor Mob has PTSD, but at least he's not alone.

knife trick by ruthwrites (@ruemilley)

There wasn’t a rule, exactly, that said that Ritsu wasn’t allowed to spend time with his brother. It was just something that was understood, like how Ritsu understood he wasn't supposed to press his hands along the sharp edges of his mother’s kitchen knives. (or: an age swap where only Mob and Reigen's ages are changed. Shigeo asks his little brother if he wants to walk him home after school. Ritsu should say no. Ritsu does not say no.)

The ending of this one sticks with me, ugh it's so good. Swap au's are so interesting, and I love the way it's done here, especially with Mob and Reigen being swapped, but Ritsu still being the same age.

citrus by orphan_account

He can just barely see Reigen pacing, purposefully quiet. He’s not smiling or laughing like he usually does on the phone. He looks sad. No, he looks upset. Shigeo doesn’t get a chance to wonder why before Reigen is walking back out, eyes carefully trained on his phone before he flips it shut. “Mob, we have a client to go to. I would have taken you home, but your parents aren’t there.” “Why would I have to go home?” Reigen goes quiet for a moment. “We aren’t dealing with a spirit.”

Reigen getting to deal with big problems through his job, and baby Mob learning important life lessons, what more do you need?

I know who I am when I'm alone by RedWritingHood

I'm something else when I see you. The world revolves around the suffering of Kageyama Shigeo. It fails to anticipate the determination of the Greatest Psychic Detective of the 21st Century.

In which Reigen is in Mogamiland and is as stubborn as a mule - even if he doesn't know what he's fighting against or for. A great moment of Reigen being able to comfort Mob - more or less. There are struggles that come with trying to accomplish that.

Undertale

Second Contact by Ononymous

To the participants, monumental days in history rarely feel very monumental when they wake up that morning. A young man at his summer job in the middle of nowhere was about to learn this the hard way.

I love this fic, of Asogre and Frisk meeting the first human outside of the Underground, told from outsider pov. It's a fun continuation of the story, and of how a poor service employee has to be the one to deal with the mess first.

What Little Monsters Are Made Of by Mangaluva

Nobody understands why you keep Flowey. You're not always sure why you do. But you found a way to save everybody else.

A story about love, and a story about believing in someone or something, and about how it's never too late. Post-Game, exploration of the relationship that builds between Flowey, Frisk, and the rest of the monsters over the years.

Kingdom Hearts

Scar Tissue - mimiplaysgames

Terra doesn’t remember certain things. He’s not in control. Even after everything they have been through, he still has the Guardian to contend with.

A little confusing to read sometimes, but super interesting look into after effects of having one's heart stuck in various places, and how it impact Terra without him even knowing it. At the end of the day, Terra is a guardian.

Umbra, Penumbra - end_alls

Roleswap where Vanitas is the one raised with care and compassion in the Land of Departure, and Ventus… is not

A fun and interesting role reversal. In general, the concept of 'too much light' is not explored enough in Kingdom hearts, so a fic that goes into how Ventus is left so incomplete without Vanitas is great.

Affecting Eternity - b-na_hime

One new Keyblade Master. Two new Keyblade wielders. Three thousand ways it could go horribly wrong…

Riku trying so hard to train Lea and Kairi when he's never been formally trained either. Great relationship building between them and how each of them feels about being a keyblade wielder.

reflections, refracted. - vvingblade (@vvingblade)

It's been ten years since then. Time has passed, and wounds are slowly healing. Ven thought he'd moved on, that the memories no longer bother him. All it takes is a single muddled spell to prove him wrong.

Ven has some serious PTSD and it rears its ugly head. Also, Ven can kick ass when he believes his life depends on it. Great Ven characterization that fleshes out Ven a bit more than he usually is.

Final Fantasy VII

The Fifth Act by Sinnatious

Cloud has an accident with a Time materia, and finds himself in the middle of the Wastes at the start of the Wutai War. There are people to save… and for that, there are three people who need to die.

My favorite time-travel fix-it for FFVII I've found so far. Good characterization, fun interactions, and I love how much it grapples with the question of 'should Sephiroth die, when he hasn't done anything'.

A Feather's Edge by Boomchick

Rescue arrives for Sephiroth while he is still a child. It arrives in the form of a blank-faced blonde-haired hero who cannot look at him; Who tends his wounds, and speaks kindly, but whose eyes are filled with hate and fear. If only Sephiroth knew the rules of this world outside the labs, maybe he could figure out how to stop making Cloud so angry...

An interesting look into, even if Sephiroth was saved, how messed up he is since childhood and how that impacts how he views people, sitautions, and relationships with other people. Kinda wish it was a little longer, but also I think it ends where it needs to end, if that makes sense. Really love Cloud trying to grapple with being a good adult for a child while battling his PTSD over said child.

In the Woods, Somewhere - DoveFanworks

On an ordinary day, two against one would hardly feel fair. But today was not an ordinary day, and Gods damn if this man wasn’t proving to be worth every bit of their combined effort. It was ludicrous. Unheard of. Before today, he would have thought it impossible. But somehow, someway, this man, this stranger who had come from out of nowhere, was fighting off two of the most powerful fighters in the world. At the same time.

Unresolved Time Travel au where Cloud takes on the three Firsts and kicks ass! I love how thought out the fight scenes are, taking into account the abilites of everyone involved and what they're capable of. Wonderfully orchestrated, wonderful to read.

Rebound - emrald_writes

Genesis knows the moment that they step into the little town that whatever it is plaguing them it isn’t a curse.

I Love fics that have surprisingly in depth worlds that makes you feel like you're looking into a world so much bigger and more thought out than you expected. Such an interesting magic system and a fun mystery to boot. I will say, the ending feels a little strange, but the rest most than makes up for it.

As They Bask in the Material World - Traxits

Every year, Reeve tours the outer reactors. This year, Veld is unable to escort him, so Tseng gets the job. It's just his luck that the car breaks down, and perhaps the best idea was not to spend the night in Cosmo Canyon…

Hi welcome to the beginning of the 'brownie falls in love with reeve' section of this. Anyway, great and interesting relationship between Reeve and Tseng, and EXTREMELY cool take on how young Reeve would react to Cosmo Canyon.

Before She Hangs Her Head to Cry - Traxits

Reeve had been reasonably certain that no one was in his office. It seemed like a logical assumption to make, given that he was not there and that no one short of the President had a key. One day, he would learn to stop assuming anything when he counted the Turks among his friends.

Not enough people talk about Reeve and kidnapping Marlene! Love the backstory that is hinted at for Reno here, getting to see Reeve's thoughts and such, and how Marlene's upbringing shows up throughout her actions. The characterization is just, *mwah*, beautiful.

Little Birds by katineto

Marlene's Papa is gone, and she is scared—or, the kidnapping, from Marlene's perspective.

Reeve is terrible with children. I love seeing Marlene's POV in the whole mess, trying to make sense of what is going on and feeling so scared.

Through Another's Eyes by CorsairOriginal

Elmyra Gainsborough had only wanted to live a life in peace, but war keeps coming to her door. She had only wanted her arrangement with Marlene Wallace to be temporary, but now that she's a part of Elmyra's life she has to face the consequences of that decision. Director Reeve Tuesti didn't choose to become a spy, but orders from President Rufus Shinra are not to be refused. He didn't choose to admire a group of renegades, but now that they're a part of his life he can't walk away so easily. ~ "Through Another's Eyes" is an in-depth view of the major notes of Reeve's story in Final Fantasy VII, starting from Marlene's abduction by Shinra to the end of the original game--rewriting some concepts and adding elements from the Compilation of FF7, including Before Crisis and FFVII Remake.

THE PINNACLE OF REEVE FICS. So so so good! Great relationship of Reeve with everybody, and how he deals with the events of FFVII. The moment at the end when he finally meets everyone? FUCK YEAH, that's what it's all about baby! Fic that got me hooked on the inspire!Reeve characterization.

I'm Fine - WinterEvenings

“Cloud!” His eyes snap open, but it doesn’t do much good. All he can see is darkness anyway. They were trapped. It was his fault. It was all his fault.

Cloud is so fucked up as far as priorities and his own health is concerned. it's terrible and wonderful at the same time. Gotta love a good dose of whump.

#ffvii #final fantasy 7 #ff7 #kingdom hearts #disco elysium #daredevil #psych #mp100 #browniefox speaks #ficrec #fanfiction #fic rec #masterpost

27 notes · View notes

simplysummers · 3 months

Text

Okay so I fucked up with the original post as it wouldn’t let me edit it from drafts after putting a video in there, so I had to start from scratch. So this was the ask, thank you @practically-an-x-man !

Oh wow this is quite a lot to get through! Alrighty let's get going.

Alexander Summers:

First impression:

l'm just going to talk about movie Alex, because I have other thoughts on comic Alex. I knew Lucas Till from other things like Hannah Montana and the YBWM music video, and also because after the drama with Ezra Miller everyone wanted LT to play the new movie flash, so I remember recognising this face when I first watched FC and thinking "oh yeah he's cute", and I liked his whole broody demeanour, but like, that was it. He became an honorary fave just because I knew he was around the mansion when Peter would've been young, so he was in a lot of the 'Cherik raise Peter' fics.

Impression now:

Jamie will tell you that I always develop a love for the more 'obscure’ characters in media, the smaller amount of screen time, the more likely I am to become obsessed. And so when I went back to rewatch the movies I was just pulled in when it came to Alex. I thought he was so interesting with soooo much potential, his dark but almost juvenile demeanour was like a hook, and I loooove his relationship with Charles. It's also amazing to get to experience a movie you love with a new found appreciation for a certain character because you notice so many new things. Every acting choice LT made for this role l've picked up on now, not to sound dramatic but every little detail helps fuel how I see Alex as a character/person, which is someone with so much complexity and depth.

Favourite moment:

Pretty much all of his scenes in Apocalypse, except his death. Even though I prefer FC, I love seeing how much he's grown and how much he's improved just in general. It's so lovely. But also this one specific deleted scene from FC that gives me all the feels,

Idea for a story:

I have a lot of ideas for Alex in the works, they're mainly on hold just because I went to uni this past September so l've been taking a fanfiction writing/reading break. My current main fic that l'm working on (that Jamie will be happy about), is Alex meeting and bonding with six/seven year old Scott after Vietnam. You'll know because you've read my fic but I picture Alex's relationship to be very strained with his parents, but he's making an effort because he's like, 89% sure Scott's going to be a mutant and he doesn't want him to have to deal with the same reactions he got all by himself.

I also have ideas around an OC of mine but I don't tend to talk about my OCs very much.

Unpopular opinion:

Hmm. The Alex fandom is very small so I don't think there are many 'unpopular' opinions. If we circle back to comic Alex, l'm not really a big fan of any of his romantic relationships. I like the characters respectively, I just don't tend to like them together.

Also I just prefer Alex to Scott, which isn't unpopular but it'll piss Jamie juice off :)

Favourite relationship:

Love love love looooove his platonic mentor-student relationship with Charles.

Favourite Headcanon:

Love the idea of Alex picking up on Charles’ British slang while living at the mansion between FC and DoFP. He wouldn’t say them in a British accent, but he’d say things like jacket potato, not baked potato (the second chapter of that fic will be dropping soon), and football instead of soccer, and I feel like Charles would really appreciate it because it would be something Raven used to do. Although I see her doing it in more of a teasing way compared to Alex, Alex is just adapting to his surroundings.

Hank McCoy:

First impression:

I remember quite liking Hank when I first watched FC, I don’t think I had a huge opinion on him but I did enjoy his presence. I liked his bashful relationship with Raven and I think Nicholas Hoult played the character well. He was like in between Alex and then Cherik and Peter for me, I cared about his presence because he was often involved with my top three, but he wasn’t obscure enough for me to develop a proper obsession with.

Impression now:

Kind of the same to be honest, if anything I think I may have gone off him a little bit. Not because of anything huge, but the way he is with Raven in that one scene in FC irks me a little. I do understand his reasoning, as someone with a physical ‘deformity’, I’d do anything to fix it, but I’m also like dude don’t tell this girl she’s not naturally gorgeous-. But overall I do still like him, and I did like his ending in DP too. (Even though I don’t like DP.)

Favourite moment:

Either when he and Logan are fighting in the foyer in DoFP or just his involvement with the montage in FC. Him being like “am I still a bozo?” to Alex, like bro what do you think the obnoxious little blond is gonna say-.

Idea for a story:

I like the idea of potentially writing a small oneshot about Alex and Hank having a conversation, maybe just before Alex leaves for Vietnam. I feel like it’s the only time they’d ever have a vulnerably emotional moment together. Alex wouldn’t admit to Charles he’s worried about going, and Hank would’ve picked up on enough of Alex’s social behaviours to realise it.

Unpopular opinion:

Not sure if this is unpopular but I don’t really ship him endgame with Raven. I ship them as a midgame, but if she had lived in the new timeline I don’t think they would’ve lasted, I think they’re a classic case of right person, wrong time. They were at totally different stages of life.

Favourite relationship:

Love his annoying brotherly relationship with Alex, and his mentor relationship with Charles.

Favourite headcanon:

Sean was the one who got Hank to smoke his first joint, and Hank was so concerned about what it would do to his brain/mutation that he caved and told Charles, as if they aren’t all adults who can make their own informed decisions. I don’t like reducing characters to a caricature, but the idea of Hank shyly telling Charles he’s stoned and has some minor concerns is so funny to me.

Patricia Thornton:

First impression:

In typical Summer fashion, Thornton wasn’t a favourite when I started MacGyver, that was solely Mac and Jack. I just thought she was pretty and badass, and I really enjoyed her banter with Jack. That was kind of all I thought on her.

Impression now:

I. Love. Her. Literally she is such an icon. I came to appreciate her pretty quickly because I binged a lot of MacGyver while I was recovering from my hip surgery, and then when I found out about the traitor storyline I was devastated. I love her snark, her facial expressions, how much of an amazing spy she actually was? I still love her relationship with Jack but I’ve also come to appreciate how she was with Mac and Riley. She wasn’t a helicopter boss/parent, but it’s so clear that beneath the sternness and consistent annoyance, she loved those brats so much.

Favourite moment:

During the Christmas episode, at the end, she’s talking to Mac by the Christmas tree and it’s a clear moment of how she wasn’t just the boss of this team, she was also a friend. She kisses Jack’s cheek, she lets Bozer touch her, she and Mac talk about Christmas gifts, I love it. (I also love her in the fourth episode of season one where she’s beating the shit out of people.

Idea for a story:

I want to write more of her and Mac, I like the idea of her going to see him in the hospital after the incident in S1E1, but he’s at a generic hospital in Italy, and when she and Jack arrive the doctors are like “are you guys family to the patient? 🤔” and they’re like “uh…”. And Jack is like “oh yeah, we’re his aunt and uncle, this is my wife” on a whim and Thornton looks at him like she’s going to take off her shoe and shove the heel up his nose.

Unpopular opinion:

She’s better than Matty. That’s ragingly unpopular but to me she just is, I prefer her dynamic with everyone compared Matty’s character to dynamic with them. And there’s no problem with Matty, I just haven’t warmed to her, like at all. I don’t find banter in her sternness, whereas with Thornton it was more of an exasperation.

Favourite relationship:

I love all of her relationships with the main team, Mac’s is probably my favourite, but I do love how she is with Riley, and Bozer. They’re like her exhausting children and she’s just DONE. And of course her love-hate relationship with Jack is top notch.

Favourite headcanon:

I’ve never talked about this before but I have this deep rooted lore idea that Thornton had a lung transplant as a child. There’s even more lore behind why but I won’t bore you with that, but anyways I have this hc that while on a mission with Jack when they’re first working together, he finds her immunosuppressants in her backpack, and because she hasn’t declared them to anyone on the team, except Oversight ofc, as nobody knows about her lungs, Jack’s first thought is “…she’s dealing drugs.” And confronts her about it, and she’s just like “😒”.

After that, only Jack knows about it, and I like to think that while she’s in prison, he goes to see her and even though he’s mad because he thinks she’s a traitor, he’s still like “they’re giving you your pills for your lungs right?”

Warren Worthington III:

First impression:

I don’t really remember my first impression of Warren. I remember in TLS, when we see him trying to cut out his wings, my first thought was “WOAH IM UNCOMFY”, but overall I think for me he was just sort of…there?

Impression now:

I like him a lot more in TLS than I do in Apocalypse, in Apocalypse I find him a bit obnoxious, but I like the complexities of his situation in TLS, as much as I don’t like the movie itself. I think it’s really interesting to see his development throughout that movie considering he has such little screen time.

Favourite moment:

I do actually quite like the scene where he flies away from his father before he’s forced to have the mutation cure. Very powerful and I think the actor did a nice job.

Idea for a story:

I don’t have one off the top of my head but I like the idea of something to do with he and Alex talking, for my universe they both have somewhat ‘unsupportive’ parents, so that could be an interesting exploration.

Unpopular opinion:

I can’t say I have one because I don’t know the character well enough. Maybe that he kind of annoyed me in Apocalypse? Like I get why he was the way he was, I just didn’t feel emotionally connected to him. I wish they could’ve fleshed it out a little bit more.

Favourite relationship:

I have no idea.

Favourite headcanon:

Again, not really any idea cause I don’t know enough about him, but I’d love to hear a few of yours sometime.

#ask summer #the moots 💛#pax 🧬#x men #MacGyver #x men movies #Alex summers #havok #hank mccoy #beast #warren worthington iii #Angel #Patricia Thornton

15 notes · View notes

markcampbells · 5 months

Text

Vash's lips twitch downwards into a frown. "You scratching yourself bloody and throttling my plants with secondhand smoke somehow isn't my problem? Not to mention leaving the bed cold."

"Spiky, look." Nicholas drags the hand of the arm Vash isn't tending to through his hair. He'll be awake for the next few hours; he may as well shower at some point. "Was feeling fucked up about heading back to the orphanage. Bein' paraded around like some kinda success story when we both know I'm anythin' but. Wasn't gonna put that on you if I could help it. Was hoping you'd still be asleep when I headed out. My bullshit ain't your responsibility."

The night before a stressful day to come, Nicholas' anxiety gets the better of him, and forces an honest talk with Vash.

Hello friends who are also feeling So Normal about Trigun 😂 My first completed/posted fic for this fandom which is always a bit of an ✨ AAAHHHHH ✨. Modern AU Vashwood emotional hurt/comfort with an extra sprinkling of some actual hurt/comfort on top my skin has not stopped itching since I wrote this. Written with love for @excavatinglizard as vengeance I mean gratitude for foisting these blorbos onto me as well.

#trigun #vashwood #vash the stampede #nicholas d. wolfwood #my writing #my fanfiction #hopefully that's enough tags now that tumblr is better about catching things in searches #BACK IN MY DAY you had to figure out your first five tags dammit

21 notes · View notes

bratshaws · 1 year

Text

through the hourglass 139. brb x oc

a/n:just hoping this hellsite doesn't make me even more anxious uwu(reblogs and comments are supper encouraged <3)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none uwu

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

chapter

/100/101/102/103/104/105/106/107/108/109/110/111/112/113/114/115/116/117/118/119/120/121/122/123/124/125/126/127/128/129/130/131/132/133/134/135/136/137/138

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

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @novastories @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

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

@emilybradshaw @j-6o @louisahale @leobabbyyy @kulicny @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

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

His hand was so big around hers that Beatrice felt like his palm just swallowed it naturally, like a huge fish eating its dinner. He was holding her hand as the two watched tv, his thumb rubbing the length of her fingers as Nicole sat in front of them - with Jolene keeping her upright and the other two dogs on either side of her, creating a huge canine wall - eyes wide and mouth open.

They weren’t watching something too intense, they were just watching whatever random show was good enough for them all to enjoy. Beatrice leans her cheek on his shoulder, then looks from the window back to Rooster with her brows rising, “You are very touchy today.”

‘Hm?”

She laughs, nodding her head to their conjoined hands. Her husband’s eyes drop towards where she was directing and he huffs a chuckle, scratching the side of his face bashfully, “What?I can’t touch my wife?”

“You can always touch your wife.” she whispers, kissing his pouty lips, “But you hadn’t let go of me the whole morning…and it’s our second day here. So…anything on your mind?”

“There are some things but,” he licks his lips and looks away from her, “Nikki is right here so I better keep those to myself.” and he finishes it with a wink and a smirk that if she wasn’t already seated, she’d fall on her ass because how can someone be so handsome? Beatrice smiles at him because she’s glad to see him relaxed.

Yesterday was good, they went to the cemetery and Rooster got back without his nerves getting the best of him. He was…okay and happy and he looked like he couldn’t ask for anything better, and she was elated to see him like that.

Because she worried about him, she wanted him to be okay…and he was. “Okay, fine.” she chuckles, playfully shoving his shoulder only for her husband to grab her hand and kiss the inside of her wrist - purposefully blowing a raspberry against her skin and making her laugh, trying weakly to tug her arm away,”Nooo, let me go!” he does it again and this time she’s almost crying from laughter, “Stoooop!!Rooster!!!”

“Say you love me.” he mutters, “And I might.”

“Of course i love you-sTOP!” she wriggles a bit, neither their daughter or the dogs appeared to care on what they were doing, too interested on how hippopotamuses were quick under the water to pay attention to them, “Bradley Nicholas, if you don’t stop-!!”

He wraps his arms around her waist suddenly, then brings her up to his chest so he could kiss her cheeks all over and hug her close to him, “You said you’d let me go if I said I loved you.”

“Did I? I don’t recall that.”

She laughs however, rubbing his face, “You look…really happy.”

“I am happy,gorgeous.” he smirks, pressing their foreheads together with a gentle sigh leaving his lips, “I really am. Coming here with you and Nikki and the dogs,” he adds the last part because Eleanor barks in confusion when he speaks, “Has been…really good…I’m just glad our life is going well.”

Beatrice blinks at him, still touching his face and then smiling, “Well,I’m glad too…but what brought this up?”

Rooster looks at her for a few seconds, then leans back against the couch, “...I was thinking about my parents…about my dad. I…I’m a higher rank than he was, I managed this and sometimes I wonder if he’d want to get farther from now.”

Beatrice noticed that…they never talked about his dreams within the Navy, she just assumed that he’d do it when ready since talking about his job could be very tiring and he’d much prefer to talk about her or Nikki…or the dogs, “What comes after Lieutenant?”

“Lieutenant-Commander.”

“Oh,like Ashley Williams.” he frowns his brows and gives her a confused look, “...from…from Mass Effect- a-anyway,go on.”

“...I was just thinking about it. Would my dad want to go beyond? Would he want to be…commander? Or even Admiral?” he frowns, “Mav hates the idea, he wants to stay Captain for…as long as he can, he says if he can remain like that he’s happy.”

“Why?”

Bradley sighs, “I don’t know, I don’t think Mav likes…positions of power. He is okay guiding people and teaching people, but when I asked him if he’d be an admiral, he looked at me like I was crazy.”

Beatrice blinks, playing with her fingers and then chewing her lower lip, “How about you? Would you want to be an admiral?”

Rooster pauses, rubbing the side of his face and thinking, thinking hard because his brows furrowed. Then his brown irises dropped to her stomach,then Nikki’s little body on the carpet and back to Beatrice’s eyes, “When I was younger…yes,I’d love that.”

“But…?”

“...I want to be with you.” he says sweetly, “I want to see our kids grow up. I…I am okay being deployed,Bea.I’m okay with it, but I know there’ll be a time that Nikki and the twins will go from children to college age kids and I’ll miss it…and I guess I’ll see how things will go then.”

Beatrice blinks at him again, surprised - but not really - at his answer, “...really?”

“Baby,I love my job.” he smirks, “I love it.I’m great at what I do…but if there’s a time when I have to choose between you and the Navy, I’ll always choose you.”

She felt all the air leave her lungs because…well,that was very unexpected. But she shouldn’t be so surprised when it comes to Rooster anymore, he was always very vocal how much they meant to him. Somehow there was a mix of emotions inside of her, part of her immediately started blaming herself because of that, his choice, the goblin voice cackling and making itself known in the back of her brain trying to play this off as her removing his own ideas. “...oh.”

“Oh?”

“No,no,it’s just…well, you-you love what you do.”

“I do. But I love you guys more…besides,” he chuckles softly, “Maybe I’ll manage it, who knows but for now the choice is made. I’ll stay within the Navy until I feel I can…then,we’ll see what happens.”

“Would you want to become Admiral?” he sputters a laugh, “What?’

“I don’t know if I’d have the patience.” he laughs, twiddling with his wedding ring, “Like I said, it all depends on how things will go,gorgeous. I’m not worried.” he leans back even more against the couch, stretching his torso and some of his happy trail peeks from under his dark brown sweater, her eyes flicking from it to his face before notices it. He notices how quiet she is and moves his eyes towards her, “Oh no,baby don’t cry.” she sniffles, bringing one of her sleeves to wipe her tears, “Oh, gorgeous, no, it’s okay, why are you crying?”

She sniffles again, letting him put her on his lap and kiss her forehead, “B-Because you are sweet! That’s why!” was her muffled response when she buries her face on his shoulder, “You are too sweet,Roos.You really are…and-and for you to say that-!!! How am I supposed to react?”

His heart melted over her words, closing his eyes in a painfully happy expression because Beatrice truly was the kindest soul he would ever meet, “Gorgeous,it’s okay.” he chuckles against her hair, the air moving a few strands before he leans back to look at her face, wiping her eyes the best he could, “You okay?”

“I’m okay,” another sniffle, “I just…I’m surprised a bit but not really? Because it’s you and I know you…a lot.”

“You do.”

“And I know that you never break your promises.’ she smiles sweetly, ‘...you are just incredible like that.” now it was his turn to look flustered, his cheeks flushing just the tiniest bit before he kisses her temple, bristles of his growing beard gently brushing against her skin, “It’s true.”

“I’m honored you think like that.” he coos again, nuzzling her head with his eyes closed, “When you are the incredible one here.”

“We’ll go back and forth with this.”

“I mean, yeah.”

They shared a laugh, like two teenagers who just started dating, her head still buried on the crook of his shoulder and his arms around her waist,his lips touching her scalp. Nicole, who finally looked away from the running cheetahs on the tv, turned her head to face her parents, gurgling a laugh. Her little body turned, she was turning around on her own! And she held herself on Jolene to stay on her knees.

The pitbull lifted her head to keep her snout on her little back in case she tumbled, and the siblings were on high alert when their mother moved, “Aaa!” she made grabby hands towards her parents, kicking her tiny legs when Rooster picked her up one handed, making ‘swoosh’ noises as he balanced her on top of his head then settled her between the two. “Buuhh pprrbh!”

“I know, mama and dada had to have a chat.” Rooster smiles, letting Nicole touch his face and the growing bristles on his cheeks, completely surprised at that. “That’s my beard,birdie. Dada is gonna shave in a few days- mmrh!” he sputters when Nicole just slaps his lips with her tiny hand, the sting was minimal but present enough to make him wince, “Ow!”

“You okay?” Beatrice was trying her best not to laugh, but was failing miserably, “Nikki, don’t hit dada like that- oh my god your lips are so red.” she even checks Nicole’s hand to see if her own hand was in the same way,but of course it wasn’t. It was just as soft as usual. “Nikki, we don’t hit dada…are you okay,Roos?”

He licks his lips with a frown, “My mouth is warm, ow.” he laughs because what else was there to do? “Damn, our baby girl has a strong arm, holy shit. She’s going to be a great baseball player when she’s older…Is it bad?”

“I can see her little handprint on your lower lip.” she snorts quietly, “But it’s gotten better…it’s not so…vibrant.”

“Baby girl, you listen here.” he picks Nicole from Beatrice’s hands and tries to be serious, furrowing his brows and frowning at her, “You can’t hit me like that,” their daughter gives him a gummy grin with the tiniest bit of teeth appearing, “Don’t you think that cute smile is going to make this situation easy for you,missy.” she laughs this time, kicking her legs. “...damn I’m just too weak when it comes to you two, I forgive you.” he engulfs Nicole in a hug and kisses her head over and over.

Beatrice watches with a smile, sitting on her knees as she…rethinks everything that he said minutes before. She was so…honored? Would that be the right word? Honored to have that thrown her way…but she couldn’t help the next question that came out of her mouth, “Roos.” she begins, “I want you to know I’ll support you in any way.”

Her husband looks away from Nikki to face her, arching his brow, “Huh?”

“I just want you to know that. Okay? You know you have my full support on whatever you want to do.” she still felt that little guilt monster climbing it’s way up her spine, but she ignored it the best she could, “That’s all.”

But Rooster could read her way too well by now. In fact…he just sat up on the couch with Nicole on his lap, his lips no longer red or swollen as he stared at Beatrice with his eyes fond, “...are you blaming yourself?” his knowing tone makes Beatrice immediately avoid his stare, “You don’t have to.”

“I know, it’s just the goblin in my head is thriving right now.”

He smirks, scooting closer to her while still holding Nicole, kissing her forehead, “You are okay. You are sweet.” their foreheads touch, “And you are kind, so kind baby…kind enough to make the angriest person love you…which means Cyclone would adore you.” Beatrice hadn’t met Evelyn’s father beyond their wedding day, but she laughed at his comment nonetheless, earning another kiss on the tip of her nose, “But really, it’ll be alright. I’m going to go as far as I can go…I’m not gonna think,I’ll just do.”

“You said that before.” she whispers, “Sounds like something Mav would say.”

“And it was.” he explains, “When we went to that mission, the one I told you about, he said just that to me. And that’s how we…managed it I guess…I’ve been using that a lot now, ever since then. Hell I used it before I asked you out.”

“...you did?”

“Baby, you were crying, you were scared and worried and the more I thought about what I could do the more I noticed that nothing I thought about could help…and that’s why I asked you out, because I wanted to do it. And I did it…and you said yes.” he smiles.

“...so I need to thank Mav for you taking the initiative?”

“....in a way.”

“You know I might use that for me.Sometimes I think…too much, my anxiety has gotten better but it can get bad.”

“I know,” he smiles, kissing her temple, nuzzling her hair after, “You did get a lot better, gorgeous. You are still the sweet, shy, loving girl I fell in love with…but now you have more confidence and that is really nice.” he smirks then, his eyes glinting with the promise of something, “...anyway! What do you think about us leaving the cabin a bit? It stopped snowing.”

“Oh, it did.’ she concludes once she looks at the window, “Well, where would we go? And we’d have to take Nikki.”

“I know a place,I used to go there all the time with my mom and I looked up, it’s still standing.” he smiles, adjusting Nicole on his lap, “We can keep the dogs here and you know, have some family time.”

Beatrice’s smile widened the more he spoke, then she nodded with her cheeks flushed red, “Okay. I like the idea…so we’d have lunch there then? Since it’s,” and she flips her phone to face her, “Almost eleven thirty.”

“We’d take around…thirty-five minutes to get there.” he says, “So yeah, pretty much.”

Beatrice grins at him, leaning close to kiss his lips sweetly but soundly, then kissing their daughter’s head “I’ll be right back, wait for me?”

“Oh, gorgeous.” he winks, “Always.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x named reader #tgm oc #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction

55 notes · View notes

thoughtsaboutshows · 6 months

Text

Thicker Than Water

Chapter 12: they don’t know about us

✨Summer beach town AU

✨Summer Romance

✨Star-crossed Nabrina

✨Disapproving parents

UPDATED FOR THE FIRST TIME IN FOREVER

Aesthetic image credits: the wonderful @wisteriaxx

#nabrina #fic: thicker than water #nicholas scratch #sabrina spellman #chilling adventures of sabrina #caos #nabrina fics

10 notes · View notes

misskath90 · 1 year

Link

It’s here, it’s here!!!

Chapter 8 up!!

#fic: no rest for the wicked #nabrina #sabrina spellman #nicholas scratch #nabrina fics #ao3 #fics #caos #chilling adventures of sabrina

22 notes · View notes

frischkasekuchen · 19 days

Text

Dreamtalia Carrie AU - Blood of the Covenant

Credits:

Nevo, Dreamtalia and its characters by kyokyo866

Carrie by Stephen King

Content Warnings:

Swearing

Religion/Christianity

Religious Abuse

Child Abuse

Homophobia (slurs are used)

References to smoking

Starring:

Reve and World as Carrie White (Reve Faucher and Nicholas Major)

Nevo as Margaret White (Nathan Major)

(Author's Note: I spent Lent and partway through Easter working on this fic. This is for the 50th anniversary of Carrie. Beta read by my sister. Please remember to thank Tabitha King for making sure Carrie's story was told and kickstarting King's career. )

"And, ye fathers, provoke not your children to wrath: but bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord." - Ephesians 6:4 (King James Bible)

If it wasn’t worth it, if it wasn’t for his only friend, he’d never do this. If the boy didn’t think there was more to life than prayer, the day of Judgement, and papa- he would happily rot in these four walls till some other horrible disaster came.

(tonight)

The word bounced around his head.

(i am not afraid of him)

Nicholas, for the first time in his life, was going to do something worse than just say fuck under his father’s roof. Something worse than

(of whom shall i be afraid)

sharing a quarter cigarette with Reve that one evening. But there was that rising nausea, like the same urge to vomit when he first tasted sin- nicotine.

(she gave of me the tree, and I did eat)

Anxiously,

(flex)

Nicholas made his pocket change swim in the air around the ceiling light, like sharks circling a lone surfer.

“Nicholas!” Papa called, causing him to shoot up from his bed and drop the coins. “Reve has come over for dinner, come downstairs!”

“Coming!”

The boy looked in the mirror. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders the way Alfred does- minus the boisterous, prideful laughter that accompanied the stance. Nicholas marched downstairs, like a soldier to a battlefield.

—

(it was a dark and stormy night)

As Reve surveyed the dinner table one could most definitely compare it to a battlefield. Despite the polite conversation he had with Mr. Major

(what is your favorite proverb)

the air was thick with tension- the boy might as well cut it with a knife so he could breathe a little.

Things began to escalate when dessert was presented at the table. Nicholas’ father divided a blueberry pie among the three. Its filling looked thick and slimy, with cane sugar crystals. Fresh, bulbous blueberries were packed together and nestled in the crust.

When Reve took a bite of his share, he puckered his lips. The pastry was too sour and too sweet all at the same time. “It’s great!” Reve said.

However, Nicholas wasn’t having any of it, literally. He just twirled his fork in his right hand, while his left was scratching his pant leg.

“This is new.” Mr. Major said, “You haven’t touched your pie.”

“It makes me have breakouts.” Nicholas answered firmly, pushing the plate away from himself.

Mr. Major let out an ‘I-know-better’ sigh. He pushed the plate back towards his son. “Pimples are the Lord’s way of hindering pride.”

“Maybe it’s a Sign I should lay off the sweets.”

Reve jumped in an attempt to de-escalate the situation. “I-I wouldn’t mind taking his share! I have a sweet tooth after all.” Personally, it was in the boys best interest to keep the man placated.

A pregnant pause.

“Actually,” Reve chimed in once more with an eager grin, “Nicky and I have something important to tell you!”

Mr. Major’s eyebrows raised and he hummed in expectation.

Nicholas looked like a deer in headlights, it was as if he forgot what this dinner was for. The boy’s wide eyes told Reve ‘I can’t do this’.

Reve locked his pinky with Nicholas’ own under the table.

(im here)

It seemed to say.

“Reve and I…”

(spit it out be a man)

“Have been invited to prom!”

The man froze as though struck by the lightning outside. “Prom.” Mr. Major muttered in horror.

“I’m going to support Reve and-” Nicholas gulped for air a moment, “The coach thinks this could be good for us because, y’know, we’re growing up- and stuff.”

The man’s lips moved but neither boy heard what came out his mouth.

Nicholas pressed on, “V- Mr. Bazarov and Ludwig bought us tickets- so you don’t have to spend a cent.”

“No.” Mr. Major’s voice raised to an audible volume.

Nicholas began a tangent, “People think we’re- Reve and I- are weird, and not the good kind- the bad kind. And I think we need to learn, to- well- get along with everyone else, before it's too late-”

Nicholas was promptly doused with tea as his father threw it across the table. Some of it got onto Reve’s shirt. Fortunately for the two it was lukewarm. Nicholas sputtered and sniffled quietly.

Reve placed his palms on the table to stand up and voice his outrage-

But Nicholas placed a hand on his knuckles and gave a faux-reassuring squeeze. Reve sat back down. Nicholas’ hand stayed

(i just need you here)

right where it was.

“Go to your closet.” the man snarled.

“I haven’t done anything wrong.” Nicholas protested.

“After all you’ve been taught- you fraternize with a sodomite?”

“He isn’t a bad person, Papa.” Nicholas muttered as he scrubbed tea out of his eyes.

“The moment you stepped into that shower room-” The man heaved a heavy breath, “You exposed yourself to him, those boys- that filth. And even after you were punished for the Sin of Lustful Thoughts- you went back for more.”

“It-” Reve whimpered in a small voice, “It isn’t like that.” No one heard him.

(my siblings arent bad people im not bad am i)

The man shot out of his seat and thundered over to Nicholas. He gripped the boy’s forearm as though he were a chew toy. Mr. Major’s face appeared disturbingly enchanting, with his blue eyes framed by stringy, pink hair.

(this is too much too mu)

“Come to your closet and pray.”

“I haven’t done anything wrong.”

The man raised his hand to strike at Nicholas. The boy seemed resigned to what would come next.

Reve spent a good quarter of his life just…watching Nicholas be treated like everyone’s ragdoll. But remaining seated as his own father did the same? That was just too much.

The sound of Reve smacking away Nathan’s hand was almost as ear shattering as the sudden thunderclap.

Nicholas looked dumbfounded. The man looked offered. And though he was terrified, Reve stood between father and son.

“Don’t you hit Nicky!” Reve shrieked. “He’s your son- he doesn’t deserve that!”

“You have no right to-”

“I do! He’s important to me!”

Nicholas had doubted that Reve cared. He thought they were only friends of circumstance, but he’d gone and said that. “Reve…”

Reve was shoved and he slammed against the kitchen counter.

“Reve!” Nicholas ran over to his side, and shot his father a glare.

“Nicholas.” Papa said in a hushed tone. “Tell that man no.”

“I already said I was going.” Nicholas countered as he got Reve to his feet.

“Then tell him you’ve changed your mind!” Nathan nearly hollered. “Or we’ll move! Move somewhere you’ll never see that boy or that teacher again!”

“No- I won’t!”

“That’s final.” Mr. Major walked away as though he had the last word in.

“I’m not done!” Nicholas screamed.

“I have to close the window. The rain’s getting in the house.” he marched to a nearby window.

“I’ll get them- just please talk to me!”

And Nicholas flexed.

At that moment, Reve felt the house shift. Every window slammed shut, even the one upstairs, and the one Mr. Major was going to close and nearly crushed his fingers.

A large knife dangled inches away from the man’s face as he cowered in a corner.

Nicholas’ fingers flexed and twitched like a malfunctioning machine.

Reve put a hand on Nicholas’ shoulder. “Nicky,” he murmured, “put the knife down.”

Nicholas breathed a staccato of inhales and exhales through his nose.

Reve wrapped his arms around Nicholas’ shoulders, leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Please put that knife down, Nicky.”

The knife fell to the floor

(not worth it hes not worth it)

with a clatter.

“Witch.” Mr. Major breathed. “Devil’s power.”

Nicholas was sniffling, but without any doubt in his mind he said: “The devil’s got nothing to do with this. It’s me- me.”

“And it’s- he’s amazing.” Reve huffed.

“Nonsense.” Mr. Major rose from his crouch. “The devil is cunning. He gives you things- he tricks you- you know what he did to your mother-”

Nicholas chuckled with mirth. “She ran away, Papa.”

“She was seduced, she vanished into the night-”

“She ran away. Everyone knows that.”

(she knew she knew you were)

Reve put a hand over his mouth; Nicholas’ life was revealed to be more of a hellhole with every new fact he learned about his friend.

(can anyone tell me what abandonment means)

Nicholas sighed, “And I don’t wanna talk about these things anymore.”

(just wanted to talk like how all the other kids do with their)

Reve looked to Nicholas, his father, and then back to his best friend again.

“Are ya really sure you wanna go to prom? You don’t gotta go just for me.”

Nicholas smiled at him through the tears, the tea and nodded. He gripped Reve’s hand in his “We’re going.” Nicholas looked at his father. “We’re going to prom.”

And that affirmation is what sealed the boys’ fates.

—

Reve opened his umbrella and stepped out of the doorway.

“Have a good night, Reve.”

Reve nearly stepped off the porch. Instead, he whipped around to face Nicholas. He didn’t notice at the time, but he was crying. “Please- please promise me- that if I leave you alone with him, you’ll still call me in the morning.”

Nicholas was confused, but gave him a grin. “Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

“People like him- they- what if he-” Reve’s trembling lips stopped that track of words.

(no no i cant say it)

“Papa won’t do that.” For some reason, Reve felt like the other boy was lying through his teeth. “Things are gonna change around here.”

“Saturday night?” Reve sniffled.

Nicholas cupped Reve’s cheeks, stood on his tiptoes, and kissed away Reve’s tears.

He pulled away. “Saturday night.”

Reve nodded, turned away, and found the courage to drag his feet away from the Major bungalow and walk home.

(Author's Note: Sorry if this piece was heavy- the Carrie AU is kind of a personal story to me (aka mad projecting). I just really wanted to do something for a Stephen King anniversary because both his novels and Dreamtalia itself have carried me through tough times. Thank you for reading.)

(P.S Shout out to anyone who got the Utena reference)

#dreamtalia #carrie au #tw swearing #tw religion #tw religious abuse #tw child abuse #my writing

6 notes · View notes

pbs-theundeadmaggot · 2 years

Text

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・𝖩𝗎𝗇𝖾 ・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

just some personal favourites that I've read this month.

more fic recommendations available here!

[Please also respect writers terms, I am not responsible for what kind of content you consume but please be aware that minors will be blocked if they chose to interact with 18+ content.]

-x

⊱ ────── 𝖩𝖩 𝖬𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖺𝗇𝗄 ────── ⊰

Soul deep by @kindapinkskies

mixed signals by @mildkleptomaniac

I love you by @pixelated-pogues

white t-shirt by @myjjbaby

not together anymore by @anonymous0writer (miniseries!)

borrowed time by @maybankiara

when its convenient by @toriswrites

she wasn't you by @julesclues

warm me? by @ceceswriting

couldn't be more in love by @pogueszn

secret feelings by @theosbucky

crush by @smokingbeersdrinkingweed

⊱ ────── 𝖡𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗒 𝖡𝖺𝗋𝗇𝖾𝗌 ────── ⊰

you deserve a soft epilogue, my love by @sweetdreamsbuck

heartaches by @onceuponastory

The third wheel by @writing-for-marvel

just a little crpush by @sidepartskinnyjeans

it was only a kiss by @navybrat817

what I love about her by @anastasiabvrnes

together by @youlightmeupfinn

⊱ ────── 𝖣𝗋𝗎𝗂𝗀 ────── ⊰

Take a leap by @redheadspark

request 1 by @writingdumpster

close by @stresslessbaaby

another threat by @sapphireplums

can't sleep by @inklore

⊱ ────── Peter Parker ────── ⊰

Home coming by @watchmegetobsessed

locker love letters by @annab-nana

Peter’s girl (ongoing series I think?) by @farfromharry

girlfriend by @spideyspeaches

for fakes sake by @parkerpeter24

Where we start again (completeseries!!) by @waitimcomingtoo

lets just pretend by @ptergwen

safe space by @hollandcrush

home coming...with me? by @justauthoring

Plus one (completeseries!!) by @just-jordie-things

⊱ ────── Twilight ────── ⊰

Finding Warmth (J.B series!) by @raventhunderaesthetic

imprint (P.L) by @stylesluxx

Time (J.B) by @lullabaesstuff

Cursed fate (J.B) by @byrachel

there's not enough twilight fics for my liking so here's some masterlists of the wolf pack

@fatiguing-thoughts Wolf // pack Masterlist

@atlas-of-a-human-soul // pack Masterlist

@pennylanefics // pack Masterlist

⊱ ────── Nicholas Scratch ────── ⊰

Everything I’m not by @im-a-writer-sometimes

let him go by @atlas-of-a-human-soul (the amount of times I've read this and cried is just sad at this point :0 )

Not supposed to happen by @scorlettimagines

excuses excuses by @just-jordie-things

223 notes · View notes

thegladelf · 1 year

Text

An Open Heart is An Open Wound 13/?

Guess who's back! *nervous laugh emoji*

I know it's been a while. Life got busy and writing got hard, but uh, we've gone down another Captain Swan rabbit hole and that led to old fanfic and that led to me realizing that I still had at least a couple of chapters outlined. So I dunno if I have it in me to finish this fic, but I'm going to get y'all as far as I can. I've forgotten a lot of what I originally had planned, but luckily I have notes for some of it and the show for the rest. There's at least one more chapter coming after this and I know it's going to make a lot of people happy. (No beta to credit this time, we die like Liam Jones now)

Last Chapter | From Beginning | AO3

Summary: Killian was sent to our world to find a cursed town called Storybrooke, but his quest was derailed when he met Emma Swan. Drawn together by a past that is more similar than either of them realize. For a time, they were family. Then things changed and Killian left to complete his mission. Now, ten years later, Emma has come to Storybrooke and it’s Killian must decide whether he should pick up the pieces. (Alternate universe retelling of Season One.)

Word count: 10.8k

# # #

“Whatcha reading?”

“The Hulk versus Wolverine.”

Killian didn’t recognize the first voice at the end of the aisle, but the second was one he knew well. Not wanting to startle the lad, he ceased his perusal of the baking goods—he knows there are ready made breakfast foods, but he prefers making things from scratch and free of all those words he doesn’t know—peering over the shelf tops to find his son holding up a colorfully illustrated book for the inspection of a girl not too much older. She stood a bit taller than Henry, her hair cascading over her shoulders in golden waves. Her clothes echoed his school uniform, which made sense he supposed, as there was only one school that he knew of in this town and it got out a few minutes ago.

“I’m Ava,” the girl supplied.

As she spoke, someone brushed past Killian drawing his attention. Another child in a school uniform, this one a dark-haired boy with his arms full of toiletries. He strode casually past, seemingly unaware of Killian's presence. Killian noted the care in his step, his suspicion confirmed as the lad crouched down at the end of the aisle, quietly reaching for Henry’s backpack on the floor.

“I think I’ve seen you around school,” Ava continued as her accomplice slipped his items inside Henry’s backpack. “You’re in Miss Blanchard’s class, right?”

The second lad stood quickly, stepping forward. “Almost ready, Ava?”

A flicker of unease flashed across Ava’s face as she acknowledged the new boy. “This is my brother, Nicholas.”

Indecision stayed Killian’s hand for only a moment. He and Emma had used similar tactics on more than one occasion, and from the look of these children, they needed the items. But they were involving Henry in their actions and that he couldn’t let slide, no matter that he had been in their position on many occasions. Hadn’t he often nicked things while good, polished Liam distracted the cart owners?

“Hi,” Nicholas said, touching his sister’s arm. “Come on – let’s go.”

The girl smiled at Henry. “You want to come hang out?”

Henry’s bright reply stabbed at Killian’s emotions as he stepped forward, but the shop’s proprietor was eyeing the threesome with narrowed eyes—though that might just be the continual cold the balding man seemed to suffer from.

“Hold up just a minute there, mate,” Killian said, resting his hand on Henry’s shoulders. With his hook, he caught one of the many loops on Henry’s rucksack, sliding the zipper open to reveal the stolen goods. “I don’t think you want to be going anywhere with these two until they’ve returned these things.”

Ava stared up at Killian, like a rat caught in a trap, her fists balled at her sides. The boy — already halfway to the door — bolted the rest of the distance. His sneakers skidded against the tile floor as nasally challenged Clark slapped his hand over the door.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he demanded of Nicholas. He sneezed and dabbed at his nose with a crumpled handkerchief. “Don’t think I didn’t see you rob me.”

Henry’s lip trembled as he looked at the pair of siblings and despite Killian’s common experience with these waifs, he felt the flare of anger at how they had taken advantage of such a good heart as Henry’s.

“That’s why you were talking to me,” his son accused. “So your brother could put that stuff in there.”

Ava bowed her head, at least having the decency to be ashamed. Her brother glared at Clark, but remained silent.

Clark grabbed the boy by his arm, roughly pushing his toward the counter and his register. “I don’t know who you two think you are—don’t you go anywhere missy, you come right over here with your brother.”

He glared until she obeyed, though it wasn’t surprising, she didn’t seem keen to leave her brother. A trait she shared with Liam, he truly hadn’t known when to let Killian go either.

Clark grabbed a phone just to the side of the register. “I’m calling your parents—all of your parents,” he said, with a look at Henry. “And then I’m calling the sheriff.”

“Surely that’s not necessary,” Killian said. “It’s toilet paper and food stuffs. Certainly you can let it slide so long as the children put it back and promise not to engage in such activities again.”

“Certainly I will not,” Clark shot back. “I won’t stand for thieves in my store.” He schlumped around the counter, yanking the bag from Killian’s grasp. He threw it on the counter with a thunk. Carefully, he unpacked the bag, sneering at Henry’s school books as he called Emma and then attempted to call the children’s parents. From Killian’s side of the conversation, the former appeared more fruitful than the latter. The man tried to dismiss Killian, but as he showed no sign of releasing Henry as well Killian opted to stay.

Besides, he recognized the look in the children’s eyes. They might need a champion to plead their case.

Emma and Regina must have both been in their offices, for they arrived at nearly the same time. Regina’s black sedan whipping into a spot behind the curb, she was up and out of the vehicle, slamming the door behind her, as Emma’s cruiser pulled into the space behind her. Killian bit back a smile at the sight of her rolling her eyes as Regina stormed through the door.

“What’s all this about?” the mayor demanded.

The clerk pulled himself up to his full height, which was still several inches shorter than the mayor. “Well, I’m sorry, Madam Mayor, but your son was shoplifting.”

“That’s a lie,” Killian said. “I saw the whole thing myself. Henry had no idea.”

“See?” Regina said. She grabbed the olive bag, zipping it closed with finality. “We’re going.”

Emma breezed through the door in time to halt Regina’s progress out of the shop. She paused, her eyes sliding over the scene, taking in each person. Her jacket rode up on her shoulders as she propped her hands on her hips, finally zeroing in on their son.

“Henry.” She sounded surprised. “What happened?”

Regina sighed. “Miss Swan, must I remind you that genetics mean nothing.” She spoke forcefully, her arm curling around Henry’s shoulders and drawing him closer. “You’re not his mother and it’s all taken care of.”

Her words made Killian’s blood boil, but Emma didn’t even flinch. Her calm demeanor reminded him of their bargain. Though he wanted to, giving Regina the dressing down she deserved would only strain things between the two and they had Henry to think of. For his sake, there needed to be peace between his mother’s.

“I’m here because I’m the Sheriff,” Emma said, with a sarcastic tilt of her head.

“Oh, that’s right.” Sounding disappointed rather than humbled, Regina stepped back, nodding at the boy and girl. “Go on, do your job. Take care of those miscreants.”

Emma sighed, but said nothing else to Regina as she and Henry left to the chiming of the bell. Ava and Nicholas eyed Emma’s badge warily. Killian found he wanted to comfort them, offer some assurances that Emma would set things right. He kept silent though, it was not his place to make promises for her.

“Did you call their parents?” she asked Clark, fiddling with her keys.

“Uh, the number they gave me was disconnected,” Clark said. With an exasperated huff, he circled back around the counter and started packing the items into a little, blue shopping basket. Though he kept his head down, the tilt of his head made it clear he followed every word of the interrogation.

“Did you guys give Mr. Clark a fake number?”

The children shook their heads.

“Then why’s it disconnected?”

The boy hung his head and tears sprung into the girl’s eyes.

“Cause our parents couldn’t pay the bill,” Ava said, soft and broken.

Emma picked up the nearest item, a tube of toothpaste. She gave the small box far more scrutiny than it deserved. Remembering her own childhood, no doubt.

Emma met his gaze when she looked up, but focused on the children once again. “And you guys are just trying to help out, huh?”

“Please,” Ava whispered. “Please don’t arrest us. It will just make things worse for our parents.”

Clark sighed, setting the basket down on the counter with a thud. He leveled a disapproving glare at Emma.

“The items never left the store, Mr. Clark,” Emma said. “I think you can let it go this once.”

“And what about the next time?” the man asked in his nasal whine.

Killian shook his head. Henry hadn’t found the time to acquaint him with every character in the book—though he suspected that the lad had at last figured out who Mr. Gold was—but they had found a few stolen moments here and there for Henry to acquaint Killian with the people most pivotal with his grandparents' story. He couldn’t imagine anyone putting up with Clark for very long, let alone as long as Snow White and the other dwarves had.

“There won’t be a next time,” Emma said, fixing a stern look on the cowed children.

“And you’ll be compensated for the items,” Killian put in. He fished his wallet out of his jacket pocket, laying out the money that would have paid for the few items he needed. He could manage one more morning of only citrus for breakfast and come back tomorrow. “Ring them up.”

“Hook…” Emma said.

“No, I insist.” He smiled at the children. “I’ve been there a time or two myself. Their intentions are good, even if their methods are suspect.”

Emma smiled at that. “Can’t argue with that.”

“Fine,” Clark said and then sneezed.

The children glanced at each other, their mouths hanging open.

“Thank you, Mister,” Ava finally said. “We promise it won’t happen again.”

With a smile, Killian wondered if she meant they wouldn’t steal again or simply that they wouldn’t get caught.

# # #

“I could’ve taken care of all that,” Emma said as she watched Ava and Nicholas trot merrily up to her squad car.

Killian shrugged, letting the door swing closed behind him and cut out the jingling bell above it.

“My brother and I were very much like them, once upon a time. Though we didn’t have parents to go home to.” He grimaced, closing his eyes like he wanted to shut out a particularly painful memory. It was one of the most concrete details he had ever shared with her about his past. With a scratch behind his ear, he continued, “The kindness of a stranger could have changed both of our lives.”

Emma pressed her lips together. “Yeah, too bad there aren’t more strangers like you out there.”

He snorted. “That’s probably a good thing, Swan.” He threw a flourishing gesture toward the kids leaning against the car. “Would you like some help transporting them back home?”

“I’ll add that one to the list,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“What list?” Killian asked, brow furrowing.

“The list of people you think I can’t handle,” she replied, sticking her hands in her back pockets. Her eyes strayed down the street, eyeing the pawnbroker’s sign swaying in the wind. “Should I put preteens before or after middle-aged men who use a cane?”

Killian tensed. “That is hardly something to joke about.”

“Lighten up, Hook. I know you don’t like the guy, but I think I could take him in a fight.”

Killian grunted, staring so hard at the kids she thought he might burn a hole through Nicholas’ head.

“Hey,” she said. “I don’t like him either. And I don’t plan on looking for trouble. Though if he keeps showing up at work…”

“What?” Killian snapped, tearing his gaze from the children. “When?”

Emma held her hands up, more to tell him to chill out than to push him away. “Whoa. He was there the day after the election is all. Wanted to give me Graham’s jacket.”

“And you’re just mentioning this now?” he demanded. “What did he do? Did he threaten you?”

“Stop it,” she said, aware of the two kids watching not far away. Grabbing his arm, she pulled him a little further down the street, turning him so those flashing blue eyes wouldn’t get the kids all worried. She sighed. “He wanted to congratulate me or whatever. Apparently, my standing up to him was all part of some master plan to get me elected.”

She suppressed a shudder, remembering the silent way Gold appeared at her office door two weeks ago. She hadn’t even known he was there until he spoke and nearly scared her out of her skin.

“Emma,” Killian pleaded, “I need to know things like this.”

“No,” she snapped. “You don’t. Look, your problems with Gold are not my problems with Gold. I don’t know what happened between you two, but until you care to tell me what he did that was so awful, I’m going to handle him based on my own experience. Got it?”

Killian pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed, but he didn’t say anything.

“I’ll see you around,” she said, pushing past him.

The kids slid inside the car as soon as she popped the locks, setting the white plastic bag with the groceries Killian had purchased between them. Ava rattled off an address with a speed that stoked the burning suspicion already coiling in her gut.

Emma expected yellowed, peeling paint and maybe a boarded up window, but the house she ended up at was a calming blue and looked well maintained. The yard neatly cut and the steps leading up to the door swept clean. It was in better shaped than Ava in her ratty sweater and Nicholas with his shaggy haircut.

“This it?” she asked, throwing the gear into park. At the kids nod, she unhooked her seatbelt.

“Please, no,” Ava said, sinking into the backseat. Her fingers tightened around the belt buckle. “If our parents see you, they’ll be so embarrassed.”

Emma twisted, her jacket squeaking against the leather seat as she faced the kids fully. “Did Henry tell you about my superpower?”

Ava shook her head. “We just met him.”

“I have the ability to tell when anyone is lying.” Emma softened her voice, trying not to sound too harsh as she met first Nicholas and then Eva’s eyes. “Tell me the truth, money problems aside, is everything okay at home?”

They both nodded too vigorously.

“Yeah, we’re great,” Ava answered, but her words sounded hollow. Rehearsed. “Can we go?”

Emma contemplated calling them out, but thought better of it. Something was off for sure, but she needed to know more before she could decide what to do. “Alright.” She inclined her head toward the door.

Both of them flashed her relieved smiles as they piled out of the car, the bags in their hands. The sun caught Ava’s messy waves as they bounced against her back. The girl turned and waved to Emma from the top step, her smile bright and very, very fake. With a nod, Emma shifted the car into drive and pulled away from the curb. The kids watched her in the rearview mirror, so Emma kept going until she rounded the corner of the street and couldn’t see them anymore.

She parked against the curb and jumped out. Brittle, winter grass crunched under her boots as she crept through a yard, peeking around a bush just in time to see the kids disappear around the side of the house. Emma took off after them, careful to stay just far enough behind that they wouldn’t catch her lurking.

The pelted across a deserted street, leading her through an overgrown yard and past useless, rusting trucks. Finally, Nicholas tossed the bags to Ava and used a trash can to scramble over a fence. The girl did the same. Emma almost went after them, but decided against it, noting instead the dilapidated, white house that appeared to be their true home.

She circled around. The house was old and obviously abandoned. She wondered why it hadn’t been listed in the paper all those weeks back when she had been looking for a home. She probably could have afforded this one too, she thought and immediately scoffed at the idea. Emma Swan was not the type to own a house. Renting worked just fine for her, thank you very much.

Every window on this house was boarded up, but the front door had a simple lock. Biting back a smile, Emma knelt, making quick work of the lock. Dust littered the air when she entered and she suppressed a sneeze. Light filtered in through the old boards, landing on a trap door that led into the basement and the floor creaked loud enough to provide sound effects for the movie Twister. Emma paused, stepping down on the board that protested so loudly, making groan again.

That should do it, she thought.

Quickly, she ducked down a hallway and waited to see who would be the first up from the basement.

Before long, Ava and Nicholas came tiptoeing through the house, Nicholas holding on tightly to his sister’s hand. They missed Emma in her little corner, peering instead into the kitchen.

“Why’d you guys lie to me?” Emma asked, stepping out of the shadows. “Where are your parents?”

The kids spun toward her, eyes wide. Nicholas pressed his mouth shut tight, but Ava lifted her head, a hint of a challenge in her posture as she said, “We don’t have any.”

She knew she had recognized the look in their eyes. Now the questions was, what could she do about it?

# # #

After she escorted them down into the basement—which was in even worse shape than upstairs, despite the furniture crowded together in an attempt to create a home—Emma had the kids gather up all their things and marched them back down the road to her squad car. They went without complaint, both eyeing her warily, but seeming to accept the inevitable.

She knew what she should do. Cases like this were social services business not hers, but every time she looked in the rearview mirror and saw their dejected faces, it reminded her of what would happen to them if she made that call.

“What happened to your parents?” she asked.

“Our mom died a couple of years ago,” Ava, the appointed spokesperson for the pair, said. She fiddled with her hair, wrapping and unwrapping a strand around her finger with frenetic energy. Gone was the calm, cool exterior.

“And your dad?”

Ave just shrugged.

She knew what she should do, but that was exactly what had been done with her, wasn’t it? The people who had handed her from home to home were just doing their jobs. Her grip on the steering wheel tightened, what was it Killian had said about the kindness of strangers? Her life could have been so different if even one person had truly cared about her.

So she decided she would care about these kids. She was going to do her best to make sure they didn't get separated. Maybe she lacked any real idea of what to do exactly, but there had to be something.

“Hey, I need to stop by the station real quick to pick up some stuff,” she said, glancing up at them through the mirror. “But you’re not in trouble, okay? I’m going to take you to my house and get you some real food and then we’ll figure out what to do.”

Ava sighed, groping for her brother’s hand. “Thank you,” she whispered.

They opted to wait in the squad car, so she left the keys in the ignition and hopped inside for a few minutes as she searched through the records for anything related to them or their mom. She found a file, an autopsy report, with the name Ava had given her for their mother, but not much else.

The car was still there when she came back out and only then did it occur to her that they could have stolen it. Emma shook her head. Intentions aside, she needed to be a little more careful with these two.

Twenty minutes later found them back at the loft, a pot full of mac and cheese on the stove as Emma and the kids ate. Both children had tucked into their food with relish, shoveling it into their mouths like it might disappear.

“Hey,” she said, waiting for them both to pause and look up at her. “There’s as much of that as you want. I’ll even make another box if you’re still hungry, just don’t make yourselves sick.”

Nicholas swallowed, nodding. They both continued with a little more patience this time. Ava’s fork scraped the bottom of her bowl just as the apartment door opened and Mary Margaret walked in.

“So I hear that—” Mary Margaret froze, gaping at the two kids now sitting at her kitchen table.

Emma’s chair squealed against the floor as she pushed it back. “Guys, this is my roommate Mary Margaret. I need to talk with her for a minute.” She jerked a thumb back at the kitchen. “I won’t eat more than this, so you can have the rest if you want.”

Both kids jumped to their feet, bowls clutched in their hands.

Mary Margaret couldn’t seem to decide where to look. Finally, she said, “Uh, what did you need to talk about?”

Emma pulled her back into the bedroom, the file weighing heavily against her conscience. She knew how many rules she was breaking.

“They need a place to stay for a couple of nights,” Emma said.

“What? Why?” Mary Margaret hissed. “What happened to their parents?”

Quickly, Emma spilled the details of their little adventure at Clark’s store. Her roommate pressed a hand to her mouth as she listened to Emma’s description of the house they had been living in.

“They’re wearing the uniforms from your school,” Emma finished. “Do you know them?”

“I’ve seen them, but…: She shook her head. “I had no idea. None of us did.”

Emma sighed, a small part of her relieved that Mary Margaret hadn’t been close to these two. She didn’t know what she would have done if her roommate had had suspicions about the kids’ home life and said nothing.

“Ava and Nicholas Zimmer.” Emma opened the autopsy file again, her eyes scanning the documents. She saw no mention of the kids, just like she hadn’t found anything about them the first time she read through it. Mom had apparently passed from some form of cancer. “They said their mother was a woman named Dorrie Zimmer. She died a few years ago.”

Mary Margaret fiddled with one of the buttons on her blouse. “And the father?”

“There isn’t one. At least not one that they know.”

“What does, uh… What does social services say?” Mary Margaret asked. She took a step forward when Emma stayed silent. “You didn’t report them.”

Emma leaned in, lowering her voice even more. “I report them, I can’t help them. They go into the system.”

“The system that’s supposed to help,” her roommate countered.

“Yeah, says the woman who wasn’t in it for sixteen years,” Emma snapped in a hushed voice.

Mary Margaret stepped back, swallowing nervously.

Emma pushed on. “Do you know what happens? They get thrown into homes where they are a meal ticket, nothing more.” She peeked behind her again, glad to see the kids settled with their second bowls of cheesy goodness. She caught Mary Margaret watching too. “These families get paid for these kids and as soon as they’re too much work, they get tossed out and it all starts over again.”

“But they’re not all like that.” Mary Margaret shook her head.

“All the ones I was in.”

Pity filled Mary Margaret’s eyes, but not for the kids, this time she directed it at Emma. “What? We’re just going to adopt them?”

And there was the crux of the matter. There wasn’t room here, neither of them were exactly in the position to take on two kids. Emma had no delusions on that hand, she wasn’t even equipped to handle Henry. And Mary Margaret…well, she’d want kids of her own someday, there was no home for them with her. Maybe a few weeks ago she would have given up and consigned them to the system with a heavy heart, but standing in the kitchen she had remembered her argument with Killian. It took him only a few minutes to accept Henry as his son, only a few minutes to demonstrate just how wrong keeping it from him had been. What if Dorrie Zimmer had made the same mistake all those years ago?

“I want to look for their father,” she said. “They don’t know him. He may not know they exist.”

Mary Margaret’s eyebrows shot up. “And you think if he knows, he’ll want them?”

Emma wanted the answer to be yes. But she wasn’t, she couldn’t. Maybe Killian had proved her wrong—and the jury was still out on that one, because he could up and leave at any time—but she didn’t even know if she had ever met this other guy.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. Emma wrapped her arms around herself, trying not to think of cold hands and clothes that smelled like trash bag. “But what I do know is it’s hard enough finding foster families to take one kid that isn’t theirs, let alone two. It’s their best shot, or—”

A soft gasp burst out behind her. “We’re going to be separated?” Ava stared at them, her face red and tears in her eyes. Her exclamation had drawn her brother’s attention, he paused, spoon halfway to his mouth, eyes going wide.

“No,” Emma said, too quickly to think about what she was saying. “That’s not going to happen.”

“Please…” Ava’s lip trembled. “Please don’t let it.”

“Emma’s going to do her best, sweetie,” Mary Margaret said, with a hard look at Emma. “Now, as good as that dinner looks, I think it’s missing some dessert. Why don’t you help me bake some cookies while Emma tries to figure this out.”

Ava swallowed, but nodded despite tears still in her eyes.

The kids were reserved the rest of the night. Nodding and answering in monosyllables when they could. Despite all of Emma’s patience, they didn’t know any more about their dad than they told her in the squad car.

She let them take her bed, volunteering to sleep on the couch. Mary Margaret offered the other half of her bed, but that felt too…cozy for Emma. Too much like it meant something, like they were best friends who braided each other’s hair and swapped stories about boys. That made Emma feel guilty, because if it weren’t for Henry she would leave Storybrooke behind and never look back.

The kids didn’t have any real pajamas, they just apparently slept in their clothes and changed the next day, so Mary Margaret unearthed a couple of t-shirts and some sweatpants for them to sleep in. They disappeared upstairs with soft good nights after changing into the new clothes and handing over their old uniforms to be thrown in the washer with all their dirty clothes.

That would be a plus, at least, Emma thought as she tried for the third time to get comfortable on the couch. She remembered many, many days wishing she could do more than air her few outfits. Every now and then, she’d save up enough for a corner laundromat, but clean clothes were a luxury when you had to steal to eat.

Emma wanted to do better for them though. Better than a couple of meals and clean clothes and a night in a warm house. She pulled the blanket a little closer. She knew exactly what nights in that old house must have been like.

She would do better for them. They’re birth certificates had to be at city hall. She could start there. Maybe there would be something on their birth certificate or in the hospital records.

Yeah, there had to be something. She smiled. It sounded like something Henry would say.

She drifted off, thinking maybe, just maybe she could be the kind of stranger Killian mentioned earlier that day.

# # #

Ava nearly cried when Mary Margaret handed her a uniform smelling of Downy. Even Nicholas ducked away when he thought they weren’t looking and swiped at his eyes.

It was odd, having two near teenagers to get up and fed and ready for school all of a sudden and she couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to have Henry sitting around the table with them. To be handing him a clean sweater and telling him to hurry up in the bathroom. Both children tried to take their time in the shower, but Mary Margaret hurried them along with promises of letting them shower later that evening until the hot water ran out.

They went to school with her, while Emma headed over to City Hall, ready to brave the musty archives and hoping she might find something — anything — to give these kids a chance.

In a rather stereotypical fashion, the Office of Records was in the basement, tucked away down a practical labyrinth. Emma wandered into three other offices before she finally got directions to the right one.

A huge, oak counter stood between her and the rest of the room. Behind it was set after set of library style filing bins, all of them in the same matching wood. Every flat surface was covered in files and binders and odd papers. A man sat amidst the chaos, his attention on a computer that could probably give life advice to the ones at the sheriff’s station. Half bald, with a beer belly and a rumpled button-down shirt, he was oblivious to Emma’s arrival until she called out.

“Excuse me. Mr…” She examined the nameplate and made her best guess. “Krzyszkowski?”

The man let out a long-suffering sigh. “Yeah, it’s Krzyszkowski.” Pronouncing it like there was a ‘v’ at the end, though, there wasn’t. Emma checked. He stood, weaving around a table to get to the counter. “Everyone calls me K.”

“Mr. K,” she repeated, relieved to have a name she would be less likely to embarrass herself saying. “I am Sheriff Swan. I’m hoping to look at the birth certificates of Ava and Nicholas Zimmer.”

He reminded her a bit of a rat, with his beady, dark eyes. If Emma expected some curiosity or blustering, she would have been disappointed. Krzyszkowski reached for one of the papers behind the counter immediately and pulled up a handful.

“Alright, just, uh, fill out this form.” He slapped the papers onto the wooden surface, killing the small, foolish part of Emma that had hoped for just a moment it would be that easy. He lifted an industrial stamper, big enough to be a serious contender in a game of Clue and stomped it down on all three pages. “In triplicate.”

Emma blinked, surprised that it was that easy, despite her crushed—but unrealistic—hopes. The form only wanted basic information, record keeping for who saw what records she assumed, no signing over your firstborn or requests for certification.

“Okay.” She plucked up the first form. The desk had one of those ball-and-chain pens, the swinging chain causing her handwriting to wobble slightly.

“I’m so sorry,” the man said from his spot halfway across the room. He stood at one of the filing cabinets, his fingers still shoved inside a file holder. “Those documents have been recently removed.”

“By who?” Emma asked.

Somehow she already knew the answer.

“By the mayor,” he replied. He examined the one piece of paper that was in that file. “Just this morning actually.”

Of course.

Of course, Regina dug her fingers into this already. It was so like her, to want to meddle in something that had nothing to do with her whatsoever and step in to do Emma’s job when she was already doing it. Sort of.

“Thanks,” Emma said. “I guess I’ll just go see her about those then.” She left the forms sitting on the counter, one of them only half completed.

How had Regina known who to look for? Had she gotten their names before she left Clark’s shop yesterday? Maybe she’d been so offended that the kids tried to involve Henry she meant to give the parents a piece of her mind, or whatever it was suburban soccer mom types gave when they felt miffed.

Maybe Regina had planned to show up on their doorstep with a basket of apples.

Emma snorted at that, but reeled herself in quickly. Laughing would not get her into Regina’s good graces, and she needed to do that if she planned to help these kids.

The receptionist stopped her as she entered. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No,” Emma said, “but I need to talk with her about the Zimmer case. Tell her that.”

The receptionist stared for a moment, but when Emma didn’t budge, she got up and shuffled into Regina’s office, closing the door firmly behind her. Emma crossed her arms and resisted the urge to tap her foot. The woman returned shortly, the open door she left behind her the only sign that Emma had permission to enter. With a deep breath, she walked into the office, hands stuffed into her back pockets.

Regina shuffled papers on her desk, barely glancing at Emma as she entered. “Don’t worry, Miss Swan. You can relax,” she said, her hand resting on the file Emma needed. “I’ve contacted social services. Turns out these kids are on their own.” She grimaced, as though the thought pained her, though whether that was genuine or an act was hard to tell. “They need help.”

“Which is exactly what I’m trying to do,” Emma said. If they had an equal goal, maybe Regina could be reasoned with. After all, she had no connection to these kids other than their brief contact with Henry.

What did it matter to her what happened to them? “I’m trying to find their father.”

Regina sighed, handing over the file. “Well, he doesn’t exist.”

Emma took the file with a roll of her eyes. “He has to.”

“Well, of course, biologically he exists,” Regina said. “But there’s no record of him.”

Sure enough, where they would have put the father’s name, only the word “Unknown” was written. Disappointment hit Emma solid and low, but she tried not to react. Not in front of Regina.

The other woman fiddled with a pen. “Which means we have no choice.These children need a home, so they will be put into the foster system.”

Any part of Emma that thought Regina’s concern might be genuine vanished at the look of smug satisfaction on Regina’s face. Of course. If Emma was invested in this, Regina wanted to thwart it. And Regina had the law on her side too.

“Storybrooke has a foster system?” Emma waited, already knowing what Regina’s answer would be.

“No, but I’ve contacted the state.” Regina moved around the desk with more ease than anyone wearing a pencil skirt had a right to, speaking in flat, clinical tones. She lifted a pitcher of orange juice — probably hand-squeezed and organic if she was as strict with what she ate as she was with Henry — pouring herself a glass as she explained, “Maine’s group homes, unfortunately, are filled. But they put us in touch with two homes in Boston – a boy’s home and a girl’s.”

The steady thrum of unease that started with the mention of group homes exploded into full-blown dread.

“They’re separating them?” she gasped.

“I don’t like it, either,” Regina said, though her tone was hard to read. “But we’ve got no choice. You need to have them in Boston tonight.”

Emma’s stomach sank to her knees. “Me?”

Regina turned on her, sipping at her glass before speaking. “Well, you wanted to be Sheriff. This is what sheriffs do. Yes, you’re taking them.”

“No,” Emma said with full knowledge that she was being childish. Maybe she couldn’t stop them from being separated, but she would not be the one that delivered them to those homes. She never wanted to be within a mile of another group home for as long as she lived. “I promised them they wouldn’t be separated.”

“Well then, perhaps you should stop making promises you can’t keep.” Regina waited for a moment, her face softening as she approached Emma. “These children need a home. I’m just trying to find the best one.”

“So am I,” Emma retorted.

Regina shrugged. “He left them once. Even if you did find him, that’s not guarantee he’ll want them.” She set her glass down. “I see the appeal of the idea, Miss Swan, really I do. But better a sure home than letting them depend on a man we already know they can’t trust, don’t you think?”

Emma’s grip on the folder tightened. “Fine. I’ll do it. But they get to finish the school day first.”

“A wise decision,” Regina said, smiling coldly. “Best not to make a scene.”

“Madam Mayor.” Emma nodded and headed for the door, the file still clutched in her hand. Her spine crawled. Every step she was sure Regina would call for her to bring the file back, but no such call came. She got out the door and down the stairs and back to the station before she took a full breath, but no one stopped her. No one called her out for a liar.

Not that she had lied. School ran until two, so she had until then to figure something out.

# # #

“Any luck?” Henry walked into Emma’s office and her heart sank.

An odd feeling to associate with Henry. Until now, she hadn’t realized that seeing him usually made her day brighter. His arrival, however, signaled the end of the school day and — since Emma still had no plan — the end of her window to find Ava and Nicholas’ father.

“No,” she said, closing the file she was sifting through. She had all the records from the year Ava and Nicholas were born, searching through for any mention of Dorrie and her possible baby daddy.

Henry dumped his bag and set the storybook down with a thunk, heedless of the mess on Emma’s desk. “I know who they are. They’re brother and sister. Lost. No parents. Hansel and Gretel.”

For just a brief moment, her spirits lifted, until she realized just how ridiculous that was. Henry spoke of fairytale characters and they needed a real life, flesh and blood person. Still, he was trying to help.

“Anything in there about the dad?” she asked, more out of habit than hope.

Henry shook his head. “Just that he abandoned them.”

“Great.” Emma flipped his storybook closed, picking up her last file and heading to stash it back in the filing cabinet. A big bunch of dead ends. That’s all any of this was. “Sounds like a familiar story. Whoever this guy is, he could be in Laos by now.”

Henry followed her into the next room. “No, he’s here.”

Emma scoffed, her natural cynicism apparently untamable today. “Just how do you know that?”

“Cause no one leaves Storybrooke.” He leaned against a desk, tapping his fingers across the dark surface. “No one comes here, no one goes. It’s just the way it is.”

“I came here,” she tossed over her shoulder.

Your dad came here, she almost added, before she remembered she hadn’t told him about Killian yet. That idea made her insides twist. She was okay with Killian knowing about Henry and hanging out with Henry at this point, but every time he even hinted at spilling this secret, ice cold dread seeped into her bones. Sure, Killian was all fatherly and cool with it now, but what happened when he got bored and tired of having a kid hanging around him all the time? Right now, Henry would lose a friend and nothing more.

“Because you’re special,” Henry said. “You’re the first stranger here. Ever.”

“Right, I forgot.” Emma shrugged it off. He might not remember any strangers coming to Storybrooke, but clearly that wasn’t true. She ran her fingers over the files, wishing she knew them as well as Henry apparently knew his book. The cool metal felt brittle as she slid the drawer closed.

For a brief moment, she wondered if there had ever been someone who felt this way about her. One of her case workers, maybe? Someone determined to help, but with their hands tied by laws meant to “protect” her. She wanted to keep looking, but she was out of time and out of ideas.

Henry came around the desk, hopping up to sit on it like he owned it. “Can you tell me about him?”

“Uh.” Emma blinked. “I haven’t found anything about him.”

“Not their father. Mine.”

He stared up at her with wide-eyed innocence, feet banging against the desk as he waited, completely oblivious to the way Emma’s stomach lurched down to her toes. The silence stretched.

“I told you about your parents,” he added, sensing her hesitation. “And now you’re even living with your mom.”

“Mary Margaret isn’t… She’s… Never mind.” Emma sank into the nearest chair, gathering her thoughts. What did she tell him? How much did she tell him? How did she avoid this subject completely? Killian wouldn’t leave him, a small voice said. But she had been so sure about Killian all those years ago and he left her then. He’d promised never to leave her and then he did.

“Please?” Henry begged.

Emma couldn’t say no.

“I was pretty young.” She sat back, pushing her hair away from her face as she thought. “I’d been dodging social services for a year and…” Emma paused, unsure of how much was too much. Henry already knew about her past, did he really need to know about Killian’s? “To be honest, your dad and I weren’t always on the right side of the law. I met him stealing the beetle.”

Henry’s mouth dropped open. “Really?”

Emma grimaced, maybe she shouldn’t have told him that. “Yeah.”

“Cool.”

She chuckled. “Yeah, well, don’t tell Regina you think that.”

Henry leaned forward. “What happened after that?”

“We were…family for a while after that,” Emma said with a shrug. It was true on her part at least. “And good for each other, I guess.” She watched the way Henry’s face lit up, the way his fingernails dug into the cuffs of his sweater, and she couldn’t tell him the truth. Even if she wanted to—she just couldn’t.

“We got real jobs, tried to put down roots. Mine was at this crappy twenty-four hour diner. And your dad, he got a job at the… docks. Long, hard days, but he’d always come in after work to sit with me until I got off.” She swallowed. That part, at least, was true. There had been a few odd jobs and Killian had hung around a couple of those places while waiting for her shift to end. “He’d order coffee and sit at the counter and complain about how we didn’t have pumpkin pie.”

“Did you get married?”

Emma tried not to blush. “No, we just…” Emma had no idea how much Henry knew about sex. He was nine. Was nine too young? Did it even need to be explained for this story anyways? “Uh, we watched each other’s backs for a while and…” She shrugged. “Eventually we grew apart. Life happened. His got better and mine got worse and…”

“And you met that other guy,” Henry said. “The one that got you sent to jail.”

“Yeah, something like that,” Emma said. She closed her eyes against that particular set of memories, breathing deep. More things he did not need to know. More things she did not need to think about. “Before I went, I… I found out I was pregnant with you. And I tried to contact him, and I found out that he’d joined the…army.” The idea of Killian in the military was laughable, but this was a way to kill two birds with one stone. She gave him a sad smile. “He died during the war, saving a wounded soldier. So, you think I’m a savior, Henry? He was.”

Emma leaned forward, taking his hand in hers. She was going to rot in hell for doing this, she knew. But she’d made her decision. This was safer for her son.

“Your father was a real hero.” She didn’t think she had ever told a more blatant lie.

Henry didn’t give her any time to worry about whether he had inherited her superpower. “Do you have anything of his? Something you can remember him by. Something I could see.”

Without thought, her hand went to her chest, habit taking over before she remembered Killian had the necklace now. Emma sighed, feeling a little less for its loss, even with the memories attached to it.

“I… I don’t…” She sat up, the chair creaking underneath her and startling her beautiful, brilliant, ingenious son. Emma smiled. “Henry, I’m sorry. I gotta go. I may know how to find this guy.”

The wheels of her chair scraped against the floor as Emma rolled away from her desk and headed for her office and her keys. It felt like electricity shot through her veins. This would work, she knew it. Her fingers itched to turn on the siren when she slid into the squad car, but that would draw attention and attention probably meant Regina. And Regina would cut this idea off before Emma could even say the word ‘plan’. Besides, it was only two blocks away.

Ava and Nicholas jumped as Emma burst into the apartment. Ava had one of last night’s cookies in her hand and a guilty look on her face as she whirled to face Emma. Both children wore regular clothes. Emma didn’t blame them for wanting out of those uniforms as soon as possible.

“Stay right there,” Emma said. “I have an idea.”

Nicholas blinked at her, then turned around, reaching for the cookies as Emma dashed upstairs, taking the stairs two at a time. Two seconds later, she clattered back down the stairs, her old cardboard box in her arms.

Emma set the box on the counter, reaching inside without taking her eyes off the kids. “I want to show you guys something.”

Her fingers brushed soft wool like she knew they would. The blanket made a poor substitute for parents, but some part of her still relaxed a little.

Nicholas sat forward, his stool teetering on two legs. “What’s that?”

“It’s my baby blanket,” Emma answered, holding the small blanket to her chest. “It’s something I’ve held onto my whole life. That’s the only thing that I have from…” The words caught in her throat, for just a second. “From my parents. I’ve spent a lot of time with a lot of kids in your situation, and all of them…” Again, it was painful to admit. Even if they didn’t know her story, that she hadn’t been enough for her parents, she felt like they would see the truth written across her face, like countless children had done every day of her growing up. But she pushed on, because Ava and Nicholas weren’t in this situation because they were unwanted. They were here because their parents hadn’t had a choice. That was all she wanted, to give them a choice. “All of us. We held onto stuff.”

Ava’s eyes were glued on Emma, her eyes wide and lips slightly parted in a look of wary comprehension. She had them. If there was one thing Emma had noticed, it was that where Ava went, her brother was sure to follow.

“I want to find your father,” Emma said, setting the blanket down. She met first Nicholas and then Ava’s gaze. “But I need your help. Is there anything of his you’ve held onto?”

“I might have something.” Ava swallowed, her hand going to her pocket. She stared at Emma, clenched hand still hidden from view. “But if I give it to you, you’ll make sure we stay together, right?”

“Right,” Emma promised without thought. All she needed was a clue. If she had that, she could find their father. And if she found their father, she could keep them from growing up like she did. She could make sure their story was different from hers.

Metal clinked as Ava withdrew her hand. Shiny, dark metal peeked through her fingers, followed by a chain sliding from the pocket.

“A compass?” It didn’t look expensive, the metal a dull gold that barely reflected the light. It was heavier than it looked though. Emma examined it, noticing that the little needle was stuck.

“Our mom kept it,” Ava explained, her voice raspy. “She said it was our dad’s.”

“Thank you.”

She flipped the compass over, searching for some sign of the previous owner. No such luck. Biting her lip, she racked her brain for any other ideas. This was the key. This would lead her to their dad. She could feel it. She just…

Ava interrupted her thoughts. “Did you find them?”

Emma jerked her head up. “Who?”

“Your parents.”

“Not yet,” she said, because a flat out denial felt too harsh for this moment. “But I’m going to find yours.”

The kids watched silently as she examined the compass, trying to think if she knew anyone in town that might know about such things. She traced the outer edge with a finger, following the path of her thoughts.

Mary Margaret came out of her room, tucking the hem of her shirt into a pair of jeans. “Oh, Emma, I thought I heard you.” She smiled. “Are you done for the day or…”

“No,” Emma said, shoving the compass into her pocket. “I had a couple of questions for Ava and Nicholas.”

“Oh,” Mary Margaret sighed. “Well, Henry will be disappointed, he was planning to come hang out while he waited for Regina to get off work.”

“He knows this is important,” Emma said, hand on the doorknob. “Tell him I’ll see him later.”

The door swung open with a slight creak and Emma could practically hear her roommate adding WD-40 to her mental shopping list, but she didn’t stop to think. She let it latch behind her, pounding down the stairs and onto the street. The squad car’s engine revved to life and she was halfway down the street before she realized where she had decided to find her answers.

If she had been less desperate she might have turned around and figured out another option, but she needed someone who knew this town better than she did and a nine-year-old with a storybook just wasn’t going to cut it.

Few people roamed the streets at this hour. A couple of kids walking home from school, a bike messenger, an elderly couple out for a walk. When she got to the docks, it grew a little more crowded. The harbormaster stood outside his shack, debating hotly with someone. Several bundled up fishermen unloaded crates from a trawler. She pulled up to the curb near where Killian had indicated his ship was...parked? Anchored? Moored? She wasn’t entirely sure what the word was. The fishers paused, glancing over as she got out of the car and slammed the door behind her.

“Afternoon, sheriff,” one of them called.

Emma waved, feeling self-conscious and scanned the boats.

“You in the market for a boat?” he asked, grinning. “Looking to expand the sheriff’s department to the high seas now?”

“No,” she answered. “Just need to talk with a friend.”

“Odd place to look, considering none of those have been away from the docks in years. Nobody owns them far as I know.”

Emma turned to him, a cold fear coiling in her gut. “Really? My friend said he lived on one of these. The, uh, Miss Guided.”

She almost winced at the name. Almost. But she was too busy worrying over whether Killian had lied to her. A cold sweat broke out over her skin, despite the stiff breeze blowing in from the ocean. She never had accepted his offer to visit his boat, so she had no proof. He could have made the whole thing up and be living on the street for all she knew.

“The Miss Guided?” The fisher got a strange look in his eyes, like he was trying to read fine print, but his eyes refused to focus. He bowed his head. Then his gaze snapped back up to Emma’s, his pleasant smile returning. “Ah, yes, Hook’s little boat. I’d forgotten he moved her so he could keep up with these poor unfortunate souls.” He gestured to the many boats with sails furled and gear packed away, looking forlorn. “That’s her right there.”

For a minute, Emma expected to find Killian standing where the man pointed, but the deck of the ship he indicated stood empty. There on the side curled the words Miss Guided. Clearly, she and this fisher had different definitions of the word little, because Killian’s boat measured at least thirty or forty feet. Despite her complete lack of knowledge about most things seafaring (Killian had talked about a thing or two, once upon a time, but she remembered very little of that), she could see the difference between this boat and the others.

Killian’s boat gleamed, the railing reflecting the sun and the deck a pristine white. The sails weren’t edged in gray or yellowed by the sun. And while the deck was tidy, it was in a thoughtful, useful way that gave the boat character instead of an air of abandonment.

Knees shaking, she approached. She didn’t like this, going to him in his territory, no matter that she had a gun. Killian wasn’t a physical threat to her, she couldn’t ever see how he would be. But she still remembered the way her heart sped into overdrive when Henry asked about him and the way she chickened out instead of telling her son the truth. Killian’s hold on her emotions, even after all these years, scared her far more than any other threat he could ever present.

She could shoot him. She couldn’t shoot her feelings.

“Hello,” she called out. “Hook?” Her feet faltered. A little dock extended away from the main dock down the side of the boat, providing access to a set of somethings that couldn’t decide whether they were steps or a ladder. Emma eyed the boat. Could she board without permission? The expanse of water between that little dock and the side of the boat looked awfully wide. “Hook?”

“Swan?” came a muffled reply. A moment later, Killian’s head popped up from under the deck, startling Emma. He quickly scaled the rest of the way up to the deck, concern clouding his features. “Is everything alright? Is it Henry?”

“No,” Emma said quickly, pushing down the guilt that flared inside her. “I just needed your help with something.”

The moment the words left her mouth, she wished she could take them back. Killian smirked, leaning up against the side.

“And what,” he asked, consonants snapping, “might the lady be needing help with?”

“Stop it.” She glared at him, though if she was mad at him for coming on to her, she couldn’t feel guilty so maybe she shouldn’t complain. “Look, I’d rather not shout it at you so either you come down here or…give me permission to come over or whatever you nautical types do.”

Killian chuckled. “Oh, things aren’t so formal on this little thing.” He gestured for Emma to make her way down the finger dock. “Though ‘permission to come aboard’ is the typical greeting. Keeps the jumpy ones from running you through with a sword. Here, grab this.” He leaned down, indicating a steel cable stretching taut above them. The metal bit coldly into Emma’s palm. “Yes. Now just step onto the gunwale. One foot and then the other right there.”

Emma did as he said, taking the hand he offered as she stepped off the dock. Killian smiled.

“Good then. Now you can step over,” he said, indicating the cord that ran the length of both sides. “We’ll make a sailor out of you yet.”

“Maybe some other time,” she said. “Look, you remember those kids from yesterday?”

Killian nodded, eyes dark. “Aye.”

“They’ve got no one.”

“I thought that might be the case,” he murmured. “You said you needed my help? How?”

“Is there somewhere we can talk?”

Emma expected Killian to lead her to a bench or something, but instead he led her to the back of the boat and down a cramped set of stairs. It opened up just a little once they were below deck. Enough that Killian could stand without hunching at least. The living quarters too were neat and tidy. No choice really, with the limited space beneath. There was a small kitchen along one wall and a set of cushioned seats along the other. All the way at the front was a triangular little bed, just big enough for one, maybe two people if neither of them were Vikings.

It was nice. Cozy.

Killian shifted nervously. “Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Tea?”

Emma shrugged. “Coffee, I guess.”

She glanced around, absorbing the small details. He had been reading, if the book lying face down on the bed was any indication. Not much lay out and about, but neat as Killian was, some of his personality shone through. The tiny pictures on the wall above the couches. The dark, earthy color of his blankets. A towel hanging on the outside of a door near the stairs. The bathroom she supposed.

Killian puttered around, pulling out an old kettle and turning on the stove. The rotten egg scent of propane clouded the air.

“Afraid making coffee is a bit more complicated here than at Granny’s,” he said.

“Well, it’s a step up from the bug,” Emma replied. “At least this place has a stove.”

“Stinks to high heavens though,” he grumbled.

“But at least you’ll know if there’s a leak.”

Killian turned to the cabinet, pulling out two mugs, one at a time. “There is that.” He leaned against the small counter next to the sink, crossing his legs at the ankles. “Now, what’s this about Ava and Nicholas?”

Emma brought him up to speed, detailing everything that had happened since she drove off yesterday. Well, not everything. Clearly he wasn’t interested in the odd little details, like her sleeping on the couch or what she wore to bed. On second thought, he was probably interested in that last one. Killian listened thoughtfully, nodding every now and then without interrupting. By that time the coffee had finished brewing.

“I’m sorry, love,” he said when she finished. “I fail to see how I can help.” He handed her a mug. “Afraid I don’t have any cream.”

“Sugar?” she asked.

In answer, he flipped open another cabinet and handed her a little ceramic jug.

“Thanks,” she said, dumping a few spoonfuls into her coffee as Killian shook his head.

“It’s not meant to be drunk that way,” he grumbled.

“What are you? A Starbucks barista?” Emma retorted.

“A what?”

“You know, Starbucks. Coffee? I know we’ve been to a few…” She shrugged.

“Ah, yes.” He scratched behind his ear. “I suppose I’ve been here so long I’ve forgotten there are places other than Granny’s to get sustenance.”

Emma nodded. “She does make a mean grilled cheese.”

“Now, what assistance were you counting on, Swan.” He cast his eyes around the small hold. “I’m afraid I haven’t much room to harbor a couple of strays, but I suppose…”

“No, nothing like that.” Emma wrapped both hands around the mug, glad of the warmth. She had no idea how Killian stood sleeping in this place. Even with his mound of blankets. They were gloriously messy, as though he had been cocooned in them before she intruded on his afternoon. “I’m trying to find their dad. From what Ava’s told me, he probably doesn’t know they exist.”

Understanding dawned on his face. “And this…father...you think he might take them in?”

Emma shrugged. “I hope so.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, his tone low. “For all you know, they were simply too young to remember him running out on them.”

“No,” she replied. “But it’s worth a shot. I mean, I wouldn’t have pegged you as the type to want to be involved either and you surprised me. I figured if you regretted running off…”

“Maybe he would too.” Killian swirled his drink, seemingly lost in the dark liquid. He took a sip, swallowing it with some difficulty. “How can I help?”

Emma pulled out the compass. “This is all they have of their father.”

With one reach Killian set his mug down on the little counter and took the compass in his hand. He turned it over, just as Emma had, caressing the smooth back with his thumb.

“A bit banged up,” he said. “But good workmanship.” He tapped a fingernail on the front. “Crystal. Jeweled setting. Quite the detail. Not your ordinary compass.”

Emma sat forward, hands clutching her coffee. “Is there anything else you can tell me about it?”

Killian shook his head. “I’m no expert. I simply know how to use the device…or I would were it working. Perhaps if you tracked the maker or the man who sold it they could tell you more.”

“Well, unless you see something I missed, I think finding whoever made this is a bust,” Emma said, taking the compass back from him. She pressed her lips together, noting how he fidgeted only slightly—his fingers tapping against his thumb while the rest of him stood stock still. She knew the answer to her next question before she even opened her mouth, but she asked it anyway. “Do you have any idea who might sell something like this?”

“You mean who might buy family heirlooms for pennies and then charge through the nose at resale?” he ground out. “Aye. Unless these children had a compass maker as an ancestor, this likely passed through Gold’s hands.”

Emma stood to leave, but found she wasn’t exactly sure what to do with her coffee. She wasn’t entirely sure she could just dump it down the drain in the sink. That felt a little rude anyways, considering she still had half a cup full.

Killian sighed, lifting the mug out of her hand. “I take it we’re paying a visit to the Crocodile.”

“The what?”

He snapped his mouth shut, eyes widening. “Nothing. Let me grab my jacket.”

“Oh no.” Emma held her hands up, the chain slapping dully against her wrist, halting him in his tracks. “I’m sheriff, this is my job.”

“And I’m a concerned citizen,” Killian shot back. “Mostly about you and the number of deals you’ve struck with Gold.”

“I can take care of myself, Killian,” she said. Tucking the compass into her pocket, she got her foot on the first step before Killian’s hand closed around her elbow. Gentle, but insistent.

“Please, Emma,” he said. “You don’t know him like I do. At least let me come for that, I might catch something you don’t.”

Emma sighed, but she couldn’t deny the very real fear in his eyes. There was a darkness to that fear, but it was true fear. Part of her should have been worried about what would happen if Killian and Gold ended up in the same room with only her to stop them, but she couldn’t dismiss the way anxiety coiled in her gut. Gold had been willing to risk injuring her and Regina to get what he wanted. Maybe Killian’s fear was justified.

“Fine,” she said. “But whatever issues you have with Gold, leave them at the door, okay? I won’t let you mess this up for these kids.”

He rocked back on his heels, his face thoughtful. Then he nodded and plucked his jacket up from among the blankets on the bed. Emma didn’t look behind her as she ascended, but she stopped short as she realized she wasn’t entirely sure how to get off the boat without ending up on her ass.

Killian chuckled as he passed her and it irked her how well he still read her. He winked. “Same as getting on, only in reverse.”

Easy as you please, he took hold of that same cable, quickly stepping over the line running down the side, and stepped down onto the little dock. He turned to her with twinkling eyes and held out his hand.

Emma gritted her teeth and followed him, doing exactly as he had done and stubbornly refusing to take the offered hand.

“See,” he said, apparently unflustered by her rebuff. “Nothing to it.”

“Come on,” she said, stuffing her hands in her pockets. “We’ve got work to do.”

#kau #captain swan #cs ff #cs au #cs fanfic #cs crew #henry's dad!au #i know it's been so so long #i'm a terrible person #this chapter has been sitting on my computer for six years #heh #my bad?#there's at least one more chapter coming tho #which has also been on my computer since 2017 #again a terrible person

24 notes · View notes