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searchingwardrobes · 5 years

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This Girl Ain’t Going Anywhere: 2/3

Um, yeah, so . . . this is three chapters now. I know exactly how this will end, and there just wasn’t space and time to get there in this chapter. Plus, I can never resist a cliffhanger! This is part of my birthday fic for @katie-dub and if you missed chapter one, you can read it here.

Also on Ao3 as part of my Fandom Birthday Playlist.

Summary: The Brothers Jones have built a reputation as the most feared pirates in all the realms. When they hear of the bounty on the heads of two princesses – The Princess of Fire and The Princess of Ice – they don’t hesitate to set sail on the Jolly Roger to hunt them down. But have the Brothers Jones finally met their match?

Rating: T

Trigger warnings: This chapter reveals the circumstances of Henry’s birth, and Baelfire is not a good guy. It wasn’t rape (this is rated T), but it’s still in the dubious consent category. If you want more spoilery details, you can message me.

Words: 5,300 and some change in this chapter

Tagging: @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @teamhook @bethacaciakay @thislassishooked @kday426 @snidgetsafan @tiganasummertree @delirious-latenight-laughs @distant-rose @optomisticgirl @let-it-raines @welllpthisishappening @wellhellotragic

Chapter Two

I've run for miles and lost sight of where you are, but you have seen me all along. Maybe I'm the last to know when I've gone too far, and yet I'm always by your side. This girl ain't going anywhere. I can promise you this, now I know for sure. This girl ain't going anywhere.

It’s so early in the morning, the sun isn’t yet up. He’s just left for the docks, and I simply have to get my feelings down on paper. Yes, he just left my chambers. I don’t dare write his name, even here. If he were punished for what we’ve shared, I couldn’t bear it. I don’t know if I can bear our separation either, but it can’t be helped.

I blush thinking of last night. I told him I was inexperienced, and he was so tender. I felt so loved, so special . . . so safe. I know that sounds strange to say about a night of passion, but it’s true. And there was definitely passion -

Liam lowered Elsa’s journal, his hands shaking. If he could go back to that night, would he make different choices? It had been Elsa’s idea to sneak him into her chambers, she had been the one to tug him shyly towards her bed, and when he had asked if she was sure, she had assured him – rather enthusiastically, actually – that she was. Yet that didn’t change the fact that she was the crown princess. It didn’t change the fact that he left her in the morning. It didn’t change the fact that he never returned. It hadn’t been his intention, but he had acted as the worst type of cad.

He swallowed hard before lifting the journal once again. Anna had asked him to read it, even marking certain pages, but knowing he was just hours or less away from seeing Elsa again face to face, he couldn’t shake the feeling he was violating her privacy. Anna had said it would help him understand; whatever that meant.

The letters have stopped altogether. I tried to tell myself he just couldn’t get any to me. Especially with King George constantly threatening war. He keeps his navy on their toes. But now . . . it’s been so long . . .

I can’t believe what I’ve heard. The Jewel of the Realm is now a pirate ship? Apparently, the entire crew has mutinied against their king, loyal to their captain more than the crown. King George has put a bounty on the heads of every sailor on board. He’s even given writs to violent pirates, declaring them privateers to get his ship back. I swing back and forth between terrifying worry and red-hot anger. If only I knew the reasons. If only a letter would come!

Liam stopped reading, putting his head in his hands with a groan. He had thought at the time that a letter would have been unwelcome. What a fool he had been! He could have at least explained; hadn’t he owed her at least that much? He lifted his head and kept reading, like a seaman who can’t look away from a shipwreck.

I don’t know what’s happening to me. It was so gradual, I didn’t even notice at first. A room turning chilly when I entered. Beverages staying ice cold in my hand. Then, one day, I was crying over a letter I never sent – could never send – to . . . him. The tear drops were ice as they fell, then the feather pen froze in my fingers, snapping in two. The inkwell was a solid block of ice. It’s tied to my emotions, that I can tell, but the more I try to control it, the worse it gets. I’ve confided only in Anna. She believes it’s a gift. But what if I hurt someone? I’ve taken to wearing gloves all the time, but fear it’s only a temporary solution . . .

Liam shut the journal, unable to read more. Not only had he broken Elsa’s heart, but he hadn’t been there to help her during a difficult time. And the timing of it all . . . did losing him have something to do with her ice powers? Liam chuckled wryly at himself as he ran a hand through his hair. You think awfully highly of yourself, don’t you, Captain Jones? As if he were capable of rattling a strong, confident woman like Elsa. And yet . . . he hadn’t expected the type of heartbreak she had written of in her journal. Hadn’t expected her to await his letters with such expectation. He had never felt worthy of her, and it seems that belief became a self-fulfilling prophecy.

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

Killian had imagined seeing Emma Swan again a million times in his dreams, but in none of them did she slap him across the face. His cheek tingled with the impact, and as he rubbed the redness away, he wondered if the lingering heat was a little taste of her powers.

“You always were a feisty lass,” Killian sassed, swiping his tongue across his lower lip.

Henry glared at him, giving him a slight jab in the ribs. “You’re not helping,” he hissed, “be a gentleman.”

Children are notoriously loud at whispering, so it wasn’t as if Emma hadn’t heard her son. Killian winked at her as he took her hand and lifted it to his lips.

“I’m always a gentleman,” he told her before pressing a lingering kiss there.

Emma snatched her hand away. “It’s not you,” she told him quickly, “I . . . uh . . . don’t want to hurt you.”

Killian arched a brow. “Your slap in greeting said otherwise.”

Emma rolled her eyes in that endearing way he remembered so fondly. “You deserved it, but a slap is one thing. Burning you is another.”

Killian looked at Emma’s clenched fists, which were glowing a reddish orange. Elsa snatched one of them, and Emma let out a shudder.

“It’s fading even more quickly,” Emma said with alarm.

“You need to make haste to Dread Mountain.”

Killian whirled around, drawing his cutlass in one smooth motion, his other arm reaching out instinctively for Henry and the princesses. There before the entrance to the cabin was a man who didn’t look any older than Killian, with a handsome face and a strong, slender build.

“It’s alright,” Emma said, putting a gentle hand to Killian’s bicep, “it’s Merlin, the sorcerer.”

Killian reluctantly lowered his weapon, hating the feeling of jealousy that rose up within him. It was one thing for the girls to be staying in this hovel with a wizened man with a long white beard, it was quite another for them to be here alone with . . . him.

“Dread Mountain is not a destination for the faint of heart,” Killian said tentatively, still suspicious of the man.

“I agree,” Merlin said pleasantly with a serene expression, “but the Quapah of Dread Mountain are the only ones who know the art of mixing elements.”

“The Quapah!?” Killian exclaimed. “Are you insane? They may kill us on sight! They’ve dabbled in magical arts to the point they’re no more than wraiths.”

“If Emma and Elsa do not seek instruction on how to mix fire and ice, they will each be consumed,” Merlin said, his eyes flashing with intensity.

“Consumed!” Henry cried out, throwing his arms around Emma.

Jade eyes bore into Killian’s, and his heart sank. It seemed like a suicide mission, but if they did nothing, Emma would surely die.

“The Brothers Jones offer the crown princesses their ship, their loyalty, and their protection for the remainder of this dangerous quest,” Killian vowed.

“Even your brother?” Elsa asked, an edge to her voice.

Killian’s eyes widened at the miniature blizzard that ghosted around Elsa’s frame. He swallowed nervously. “I speak for him as well. We trust one another explicitly.”

At least, he hoped so.

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

“How long were you going to try and ignore me?”

Liam spun around at the sound of that soft, calm voice that had haunted his dreams. And there Elsa stood, in the doorway of his own quarters. She had changed much since he’d seen her last. Her hair was a lighter shade of blonde, with white streaks. Her freckles had faded, her complexion a bit paler, like alabaster. He wondered if these slight changes were because of her magic. Her hands were clasped in front of her, her shoulders still thrown back in that confident regal manner. She looked more sensual too than he remembered, clad in a thin blue gown studded with rhinestones, a gossamer cape about her shoulders. The scooped neckline showed off enough cleavage to cause a physical reaction that he struggled to tamp down. Her long, elegant neck was tantalizing too, and he imagined that her skin was still as soft as rose petals.

She arched one elegant brow. “Are you just going to stand there staring at me?”

He swiped at his lower lip nervously. “You - you used to be so soft-spoken.” He winced. It sounded as if he were insulting her. You really thought that was a good line to open with?

“Heartbreak makes a person bolder I suppose,” she told him dryly.

He swallowed, and ran a shaky hand across his sweaty brow. “I’m . . . I’m an idiot, Elsa, that’s all I can say.”

“At least we agree on that.”

He sensed no humor whatsoever in her words. She moved with poise into his chambers, almost as if she were floating. She definitely had the whole “intimidating ice queen” thing down. Liam resisted the urge to take a step back.

“I thought you and your sister would be most comfortable here in the captain’s quarters,” Liam said, attempting a business-like air with a tilt of his chin.

She ignored him, reaching around to his desk. Her breasts brushed against his upper arm, and he couldn’t stop the shudder that ran through him. When Elsa pulled back, she had a slim leather volume in her hand.

“Who gave you this?” she snapped, her light blue eyes sparking with anger.

“Your sister,” Liam told her simply, “she wanted me to understand -”

“Understand what? My heartbreak?”

“Yes,” he said softly, “and I’m glad I read it. Elsa, I’m so sorry. I owed you an explanation.”

“Then why didn’t you give me one?”

Liam ran both hands through his hair, making the curls stand up crazily. “You and I . . . it was a crazy dream from the beginning. But when I mutinied? I killed it completely. I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t -”

“Think I would understand?” Elsa finished for him, her voice going soft.

His eyes searched hers, and he realized his love for her had never gone away. She hadn’t backed up after taking her journal from his desk, and if he just leaned forward an inch, his lips would brush hers.

“No, I suppose I didn’t,” he admitted, “especially since I could scarcely understand it myself.”

“King George planned on using Dreamshade as a weapon of genocide. How could I not understand?”

Liam blinked, unable to hope that he had heard her correctly. She lowered her gaze, a blush staining her cheeks.

“Unless . . . it was really about getting what you wanted from me. Never really loving me.”

Her words were like a dagger to his heart. “God no, Elsa!” he cried. “I loved you, body and soul, I – I still . . . “

“You still what?” she whispered.

She was closer still. So close, and her lips so pink and inviting . . .

Liam lowered his head, his nose brushing hers, and Elsa’s breath hitched. Their lips hovered close, their breaths mingling into frost. Wait . . . why was their frost? Why was he suddenly so cold?

Elsa gasped and stumbled away. He groaned at the loss of her nearness, so disoriented he didn’t understand her retreat.

Until he saw the icicles hanging from the ceiling of his quarters.

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

Killian nervously swiped a few items from the crate in the corner of his quarters, stuffing them into a canvas sack that hung from his shoulder. Emma stood just behind him, her presence filling up the space so he could scarcely breathe.

“Want to sweep the room for all evidence of your conquests?” she snapped.

Killian swung towards her, eyes ablaze. “That’s rather ironic, coming from you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’ve heard things around the docks.”

Killian marched angrily into her personal space. “A man has to keep up appearances, I’m a pirate!” He snarled at her, curling his lip and almost relishing in the slight look of hurt in her eyes. He deflated quickly, however, her hurt not something he truly desired. “But really, there have only been a small few to try and numb the pain. The pain you caused. But I can’t let the world know how Princess Emma broke my heart because she refused to write back when I was just a boy.”

By the end of his short speech, he had averted his eyes, scanning the room for any belongings he might have missed.

“It's not what you think!” Emma cried out, and when he turned back to face her, both her fists were clenched. He was relieved to see no hint of red fire.

“You mean you didn’t go and have a child with someone else only a year after I left?”

Emma’s face crumpled, and Killian felt as if a dagger had been thrust into his chest. Feeling remorseful, he reached out a hand, but Emma backed up with a shake of her head.

“Just let me speak,” she pleaded, and he acquiesced with a nod of his head. “The Dark One – his son saw me one day when I was at the market. He fancied himself in love with me.”

Killian’s brow creased. ”Rumplestiltskin has a son?”

Emma nodded. “He kept him very sheltered, killed anyone who wouldn’t give the boy what he wanted, threatened those who didn’t swear his existence to secrecy. Until he met me.”

She twisted her hands nervously as she told her tale. “Baelfire - that was his name – was sick with supposed love for me, couldn’t let go of the idea of having me. So the Dark One came to my parents with his demand – I would wed his son, or Misthaven would be reduced to ash.”

Killian felt white hot anger rise up within him. Every fiber within him wanted to rail, throw something, or at least wrap his arms around this strong woman who had obviously been through so much. Instead, his shaky limbs unable to hold him, he collapsed onto the edge of the room’s only cot.

Emma continued, ignoring his reaction. “How could I risk the Dark One’s wrath upon my kingdom? You'd barely set sail. My mother talked to me, knew I loved you, asked if we’d written. You likely know my parents’ story. They always wanted true love for me. My mother begged me to let them try to find another way. But what could I do?”

Emma sank to the bed next to him, yet still far enough away that they didn’t touch. “The engagement was quick, so was the wedding, and there was no announcement, no official declaration that I had wed at all. Yet . . . the Dark One demanded an heir right away. So . . . I did what was required of me.”

Killian’s heart felt like it had stopped beating for a moment, as he looked at her profile. She had turned her head away, as if too ashamed to meet his gaze.

“Did he hurt you?” Killian’s voice was hoarse.

Emma’s eyes closed tightly. “No, it . . . wasn’t what I’d always dreamed of, but he didn’t hurt me. Bae was selfish and shallow, but not cruel.”

Killian’s jaw clenched, and he fought back the tears behind his eyes. He knew he had to stay calm while she told her tale, but he raged inside. This absolute angel beside him deserved to be worshipped, deserved to have a person who would love her enough to put her needs before his own. She didn’t deserve to be used in such a base and vile way.

“Emma,” he finally asked, voice soft and gentle, “what happened to him?”

Emma looked at her hands, face coloring with shame. “When I first found out I was with child, he was thrilled, even more so when my grandmother's old pendant showed it was a boy. But as the time of my confinement neared, he began to withdraw. After a time, it became clear. My changing body disgusted him.”

Killian’s jaw clenched, though he held his tongue. This man was the lowest scum, in his opinion. How could he have held his bride in such contempt for bearing his son? It was unfathomable. Even worse was the look of shame and embarrassment on Emma’s face right now. He longed to gather her close, to assure her that if he had the infinite blessing to create life with her, he would see it as nothing short of miraculous and overwhelmingly beautiful.

“When Henry was born, Baelfire showed no interest in him. Didn't want to hold him or even look at him. He was never around, really. He started coming home later and later in the evenings. He said that if he was my dirty little secret, nothing was stopping him from passing his time in the taverns.”

Emma took a long shuddering breath, and finally Killian could stand it no longer. He took her nearest hand in his. She gave him a trembling smile as he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.

“Then, when Henry was about four months old, I heard a noise in Baelfire’s private chamber, and I . . . I caught him in the act with one of my chamber maids. The woman, she ran off in shame, but Bae and I argued. My magic had been flaring on and off. I kept brushing it off, thinking I was imagining things. But – I was so angry, I lost control.”

Emma crumpled in on herself, and Killian wrapped his arms around her.

“The- the fire, it engulfed the room,” Emma gasped out as tears wet Killian’s shirt sleeve, “and I fled with the baby. Everyone assumed it was an accident, and I didn’t correct them. The accident and Henry’s existence where the only things that kept the Dark One from turning on the kingdom in his grief. Anyway, my magic didn’t flare again until a few months ago.”

“With Henry?”

“Yes. A skittish horse broke free from the stable hands. It was coming right for him, so I grabbed Henry and yanked him out of the way. There were burn marks in the shape of my hands.”

Emma’s silent tears turned to sobs, and she turned in Killian’s embrace. HIs heart broke over her weeping, but the feel of her in his arms was heaven. He whispered words of comfort against her hair and rubbed her back. A warmth spread across his chest. At first he thought it was simply his body’s physical reaction to her nearness after so many years, but then the warmth grew hotter, and he realized it was coming from where Emma’s palms rested. She gasped and jerked away. Her eyes wide and frantic, she scrambled from the bed, and backed out of the room, almost falling as she stumbled.

“I’m so sorry!”

“Emma -”

“No! Stay back!” she cried, then she fled from him, calling out for Elsa.

Killian sagged back down onto his bed, rattled from the flare of Emma’s magic, but more from the story she had told. The tragedy of it, the difficulties she had been through, overwhelmed him, and his head collapsed into his hands. He knew now why she had stopped writing him, and the person that it had hurt the most was Emma herself.

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

Killian was supposed to be plotting their course, but he kept fumbling the sextant in his hands. If his gaze kept being pulled to Emma, he would end up dropping it completely. She was a vision, standing at the rail, her hair blowing in the ocean breeze. He sighed, and lowered his gaze back to the maps in front of him. She had avoided him since the moment they had shared in his quarters, spending the majority of her time with the other ladies and her son. When Henry wasn’t busy as the ship’s junior seaman, that is. She would sometimes smile fondly at him over Henry’s enthusiasm, and those brief moments were like a balm to Killian’s heart.

On the upper deck, Liam was speaking with Elsa, his smile bright as his hands gestured out to sea. The blonde laughed delicately, slender fingers pressed to her lips. Her reaction made his brother beam, his chest puffing up. Killian was equal parts jealous and happy for his brother. Elsa was still hesitant, even flinching away anytime Liam tried to touch her, but it was clear she was simply afraid of hurting him. Emotionally, the pair of them seemed to be picking up where they left off.

If only Emma would give him the same chance. She was no longer the open, exuberant princess she had been in their youth. She was still feisty and obviously willing to fight for her kingdom and her son. As for herself, however, she was guarded and distant. Killian longed to tear down her walls, but he knew he would have to do it slowly, brick by brick.

As Killian lowered his head back to his task, he didn’t see Emma turn her eyes away from the sea and land upon him. A wistful smile filled her face as she watched Killian work, the fingers of his left hand worrying at his chin, his thumb running across his lower lip. She remembered well what his kisses felt like, how they made her feel out of control and completely safe simultaneously. But as a boy of seventeen, he had been clean shaven. She wondered what that scruff he now sported would feel like against her chin, her cheeks, and . . . other places. She felt a blush stain her cheeks, and she quickly looked away. She took long, slow breaths to calm her suddenly racing heart. The heat sparking between her fingertips slowly drained away as her blood cooled. She saw Killian’s hurt, wondering why Emma ignored him while Elsa and Liam enjoyed one another’s platonic company. He had no idea the affect he still had on her, and with her magic, she was a danger to everyone on board more so than Elsa. Fire wasn’t exactly a friend to a wooden pirate ship.

Suddenly, there was a cloud of red smoke, and when it cleared, Emma had to bite back a scream. Standing on the deck of the Jolly Roger was the Dark One himself. As shouts went up from the crew, Emma looked around frantically for her son, and when she found him sitting on a barrel mending a sail, she yanked him up and pulled him close, shielding him from his grandfather.

“Rumplestiltskin,” Killian bit out as he drew his cutlass, “we meet at last, snake.” He sneered, looking the reptilian man up and down. “Or should I call you crocodile?”

Emma’s heart pounded in her chest as she whispered Killian’s name in warning, pulling Henry along as she shuffled close to her former flame. She understood his anger, but he had no idea what the imp was capable of.

The Dark One gave the pirate a dismissive glance before pointing one of his claws at Emma. She surreptitiously pushed Henry behind her.

“You, princess, did not fulfill our deal.”

“Your son wanted me, and he had me. I even bore him a son. I’d say I fulfilled it just fine.”

Rumple’s eyes flashed bright red. “By treating my son like the royal family’s dirty secret? And don’t think I haven’t put two and two together about the supposed accident that killed him. Not since the truth about you came out.”

“You never specified what kind of marriage.” Despite her fear, Emma arched a brow. “Perhaps you should have read the fine print.”

Killian was equal parts aroused and nervous by his Emma’s bold sass.

“No, my dear,” the Dark One hissed, practically skipping across the deck. Liam moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with his brother. Elsa eased closer to Emma, extending her hand as subtly as possible towards Emma’s in case she needed it. “I think it’s you who failed to read the fine print. The boy, in the event of my son’s demise, is mine!”

Before anyone had time to react to Rumple’s words, he had transported Henry to his side. Everyone cried out. Emma choked on sudden tears at the look of terror on her son’s face.

“No, please!” she begged. “You haven’t cared a thing about him for eight years. Why would you want him now?”

Killian’s fingers itched around the hilt of his cutlass. He could feel the tension radiating from his brother beside him. Looking around, he saw the entire crew had encircled their unwanted visitor with swords and pistols drawn. Liam’s raised hand stayed them. They couldn’t risk Henry. But what if the Dark One suddenly disappeared, taking the boy with him?

“Well,” Rumple cackled, “for one, these talents of yours intrigue me, and I like to have a bargaining chip. For another, he’s at a more manageable age, and it’s high time I had another boy to groom.”

With that, as they all cried out in horror, the Dark One plunged his hand inside Henry’s chest. The boy’s mouth opened wide in a silent scream. Rumple tugged, yanking Henry’s heart from his chest.

“Please!” Emma sobbed, and she could feel the fire lighting up her veins. Part of her wanted to give in to it, but she was too afraid of hurting her son. “Don’t hurt him!”

“Hurt him? Now, why would I want to do that when I can control him?” The reptilian man cackled again, bringing Henry’s heart up to his lips. “Bow and pledge your loyalty to me, young prince.”

“I pledge my loyalty,” Henry repeated in a monotone, lowering his knees before the Dark One.

The grimace of restrained anger on Henry’s face made Killian’s blood boil. His mind was transported to days of whips and fists forcing him to his own knees. With Henry’s lowered position, Killian saw an opening and with a shout he lunged forward, bringing the hilt of his sword down on the Dark One’s wrist, sending Henry’s heart falling from his grasp. In one fluid motion, Killian scooped it up in his left hand.

“Give it back, pirate!” Rumplestiltskin screamed in rage.

Killian clicked his tongue, shaking his head in mockery. “Uh, uh, uh, I’m disinclined to acquiesce to your request, crocodile.”

“Then I’ll just take it,” he hissed.

Before Killian could register anything, his cutlass had been transported to Rumple’s scaly hand. The blade came down on the wrist that held Henry’s heart, and both the red glowing organ and Killian’s left hand hit the deck. For a heartbeat, Killian couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing. Then the pain hit him in an overwhelming, blinding wave as his blood spilled upon the deck. Several voices were screaming his name, but all Killian could do was crumple to his knees as he cradled his arm to his chest. Over his head, waves of ice and fire collided together, hitting the Dark One in the chest. Liam rushed to snatch Henry’s heart as the Dark One rose back to his feet.

“No one’s magic is a match for mine!”

“Leave them alone!” another voice rent the air.

Emma, panting from exertion and fear, lifted her head to see Anna there, Kristoff at her side. They were both slightly disheveled, and Kristoff’s shirt was buttoned wrong, and under any other circumstances, it would have been funny to realize where they had disappeared to. Anna held a dagger in her shaking hands, pointing it at Rumplestiltskin. Emma was surprised when the imp’s eyes widened in fear. Anna wasn’t exactly intimidating, and wherever she had found that dagger, it couldn’t possibly be a match for his dark magic.

“Where did you get that?”

“It’s yours,” Anna taunted, a trembling half smile lifting the corner of her mouth, “fell out of your coat when my sister blasted you.”

Rumple’s eyes narrowed, and he cackled. “You are nothing, little girl.” He reached for Henry.

“Don’t touch him!” Anna screamed, and to everyone’s shock, Rumple snatched his hand back. “Step back!”

Once again, the Dark One did what Anna commanded. The red head tilted her head, her forehead creased in thought.

“Wait a second. You’re staying away from him just because I told you to?’

It was the barest of glances, but Emma noticed Rumplestiltskin’s eyes flick to the dagger in Anna’s hands. She wondered if Anna had noticed it as well. The smile that lifted the girl’s face said that she did.

“I get it,” she smirked, waving the dagger around, “as long as I’m holding this wavy knife, you have to do whatever I say. Is that why your name’s on it?”

The Dark One scowled and then stomped his foot like a petulant child. “Yes.”

Killian collapsed onto his side, curling in on himself with cries of pain. Emma fell to her knees beside him, her still red-hot hands hovering over him as tears streamed down her face. Anna’s gaze flickered to the two of them.

“Then heal him,” she commanded.

Rumplestiltskin’s smile made Emma’s skin crawl. “No can do, little princess. Magic has rules, and one of them is that magic can’t restore what magic has taken. I took his hand, it’s gone.”

He did a merry little, slightly demented dance as he clapped his hands. It made Emma want to set him on fire.

“Then at least save his life!” Emma screamed.

She cursed herself inwardly. All she wanted to do was gather Killian close, comfort him, but the emotions surging through her had her hands glowing like hot coals. Elsa seemed to sense her distress, and sank to her knees next to her, taking both of her hands in hers.

“You heard her!” Anna screamed. “Save him!”

The Dark One gave an exaggerated eye roll. “Fine.”

Then he pointed a lazy finger at Killian, who still writhed in pain. A dark smoke of magic enveloped him, and when it cleared, the wound had closed and the bleeding had stopped. His body slumped in Emma’s arms, and she wiped at his sweaty brow with her fingertips. If there hadn’t been an audience, she would have pressed a kiss there in relief.

“Now,” Anna said, her voice shaking as much as her hands, “leave this ship and never come back – oh! And you have to stay away from Arendelle and Misthaven for the rest of eternity. That’s all, now go.”

The Dark One raged, his eyes almost flashing fire. “Don’t think this is over! I’ve gotten that dagger away from forces stronger than you! I will again! I -’

He was cut off as the pull of the dagger’s command became too much, and he disappeared in a cloud of smoke. Anna’s trembling arms fell to her sides, the dagger clattering to the deck. She sagged in Kristoff’s arms.

“You were amazing, babe!” he gushed, peppering her face with kisses. She turned and put her arms around his neck, melting into his embrace as the adrenaline wore off.

Emma pulled Killian’s head into her lap, running her fingers through his hair. Tears still streamed down her face. He was still unconscious, and his pulse was weak.

“Will he be okay?” Henry whispered.

Liam’s face was grim, his voice choked with emotion when he answered. “The Dark One may have healed his wound, but his body’s still in shock.” Captain Jones’s gaze landed on the pools of his brother’s blood. When he saw the severed hand, he shuddered and looked away.

#cs ff #cs enchanted forest au #fandom birthday playlist #for katie-dub #this girl ain't going anywhere #brothers jones

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llamasgotoheaven · 6 years

Text

Ok im about to be very salty and angry if u dont wanna read it just scroll away im begging

Everybody out here freakin out about the dva short but honestly what does it tell us about her

What world building does the plot contribute to overwatch

LITERALLY LIKE NADA

Blizzard does this thing where they pour ASS LOADS OF MONEY into quality animation... in order to tell us NEXT to NOTHING NEW. WHATSOEVER.

Ok we get a taste of the media in the ow world as “peddling lies” and propaganda to glamorize a hero figure. That’s... Ok. Sure. But it’s not terribly out of the ordinary. Tell me why I’m supposed to care about it? Does it serve a purpose in the grand scheme of the OW plot? Does it wind the audience up in any kind of way outside of being a nice detail? NO.

If you have like five minutes to tell a story. Why the FUCk would you waste time on this if it serves like zero purpose?

“B-but Dani she’s fighting for her COUNTRY against EVIL ROBOTS” as if the entire fucking plot of overwatch doesn’t already pound the flaccid story of the omnic crisis into our skulls over and over again through every comic and video they deliver. Of all the things they could cover in this video.... they chose to show the hero who is famous for fighting robots in korea... Fighting robots in korea

“She’s so quirky because she’s famous and could be living the high life but chooses to live like a young adult mechanic hobo gamer”

Ok this for me has to be the pièce de résistance of the whole video.

uhhh. We already KNOW MOST OF THIS. She has an emote where she eats fuckin doritos for FUCK’S. SAKE!

Why the fUCK would you choose to use this as an attempt to create sympathy for D.VA...

no one.

NO ONE EXCEPT maybe neckbearded meninists who live in their mom’s basements. Can relate to this and feel empowered by it (while jerking off to dva’s catsuit ass). In this rotting capitalist world where most young people who play ow have to work their asses off just to buy food and toilet paper... you’re trying to use “she’s a skinny pale bitch who can eat all the junk food she wants and not become mentally ill and obese” as a selling point????? You’re saying she could have a HUGE reservoir of MONEY and STATUS that she just dumps out like an ungrateful lil hoe in order to go be a self destructive ass pilot while ignoring her friends??? If anything his makes me hate D.VA more than I thought possible!

Lemme tell you assholes something. If I was earning assloads of money off being a national hero you’re DAMN TOOTIN’ I would take my sweet friend out to a gala dinner and get us nice clothes. Do you know how fucking tough young adult life is Blizzard??? Do you?!?

The one small brownie point I can give here is that blizzard told us she can hold a wrench. Ok. D.va can adjust her own robot. Whoop dee doo. She has one skill aside from pseudo-soldier gaming. What else you got Blizzard

“UM what about that BOY whom we’ll PROBABLY NEVER SEE AGAIN in the LORE” he serves literally no storytelling purpose except maybe to inform us that D.VA has a hard time asking for help and is independent. We don’t even get to know his relationship to her outside of “friend” and “probably crushing on her”. Speaking of which, wtf was up with that? Are they introducing an unrequited love story for disenfranchised young men to relate to,?? How do they even plan on following that up?

Why is he there

It could have been lucio (whom we know people LIKE and like to see her interacting WITH) or some other returning character, oh wait. It wouldn’t make a fucking difference because this game company is so damn poor at making the audience form substantial connections to their characters. The thing that really GETS me is that the visuals are really cool! The animation is good!! They have the potential to make really heart wrenching narratives, and they are trying so hard. With the music, with the dialogue, with the visuals, and yet it comes across as a soulless deflated sludge of a balloon instead.

It’s fucking unsatisfying and it makes me pissed as an artist!!

Please .

Blizzard... !!!

You need better storyboards. Give the animations some actual passion. Write better plots on non cliche topics based around non cliche ideas ! It would make such a damn difference.

#listen i know very well how hard creative work is... im in the business #maybe this is just a good old case of the ‘it’s not for me so it’s worthless’ and i fully acknowledge im moody rn #but something about the ow hero trailers is honestly so flat and unsatisfying... maybe it’s the VAs or the animation #annoyance post #my spectrum ass is off to read more one piece.... bye

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mona-stay · 6 years

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Snowed In - Peter Hale

Prompt - Christmas special Warnings - none Pairing - Peter Hale x reader Story You are driving back to beacon hills for Christmas. You still have almost an hour and a half of driving left and the snow was starting to come down heavily. Your phone rang, using the Bluetooth headset you answer it.

“Hi y/n how's the drive," your brother stiles asks. You groan "it's too bloody long" you laugh. In the background, you hear Derek give out a small laugh too. "Well if you didn't go to college on the other side of the country it wouldn't be so long," Stiles says sarcastically. "Was the reason you called me?" you asked him. "Yes Derek asked can you do him a favour and pick Peter up on your way," he asked. You rolled your eyes "do I have to?" you asked back.

Next, you heard Derek's voice loud you guessed he took the phone from stiles, "please y/n if you go he'll come for Christmas" Derek said. You roll your eyes again "fine but you owe me" Derek laughed and agreed. You all say your goodbyes, as you turn to head toward Peter's home.

You didn't hate him, quite the opposite really you loved him but tried to lie to yourself and others you dislike him. Peter had always been a selfish, self-centred person, you knew he'd never care for you. When you heard he was interested in someone, it broke your heart so you left.

You pulled up to his house, the snow was now ankle as you knocked on his door. Peter opened it looking at you with a smile and hint of surprise. "Santa must have gotten my Christmas list this year," he said opening the door for you to come in. "Peter hale your on Santa's naughty list and always will be" you joked.

"So if your not my Christmas present what do I owe the pleasure of your company tonight," he asked charmingly. This was the way Peter always was flirty and charming. This was why you fell for him, that and his incredible good looks.

"Derek asked me to pick you up on the way," you told him. Peter nodded his head. He looked a little disappointed, "well you'll have to wait while I pack than" he said walking off.

When he came back he saw your yawning, rubbing your face "how long have you been driving for?" he asked. You looked at the time "around 10 hours or so" you say working it out in your head. Peter looked at you shaking his head, "you're not driving until you've had a nap or something" he ordered. You are actually happy he'd said that not really wanting to go back out in the cold, now sitting in the warm house. Peter disappeared coming back with two plates of food. "Eat and you can go upstairs have a rest we'll leave in the morning," he said.

Agreeing you finished your food before Peter showed you to a guest bedroom. After a shower, you got in bed falling asleep right away.

You woke the next morning, getting dressed you went down the stairs. Looking at your phone you noticed it had run out of battery in the night. Getting your coat and keys you went to get the charger from your car. At first, you couldn't open the door, it was stuck thanks to the weather. After a few pulls, you managed to open it, only to see a wall of snow almost three-quarters of the way up the door. You screamed Peter! He came running down the stairs in a panic, possibly thinking you were being attacked by the way your sound. "We're snowed in," you say pointing to the blocked door.

Peter laughed sitting on the couch. "Why are you not bothered by this" you shout, anointed he's just laughing about this. "Well, sweetheart I can't control a blizzard and you're cute when you're mad," he said picking up a book.

"What are we going to do now!" you say placing your hands on your hips. “We have to get out of here somehow." Peter looked at you rolling his eyes "the snow is too deep even if we do get out, we can't go anywhere your car is buried" he told you. You gave up, closing the door, joining join him on the couch.

You weren't sure what to do or say, Peter, however, saw you looking nervous asked if you were hungry. Telling him yes, he held out his hand helping you off the couch. In the kitchen, Peter made you a hot drink and started mixing batter for pancakes. You both laughed when he cooked, seeing how high he could flip them. You tried completely missing as yours landed on the floor.

After eating Peter found you some of his clothes to wear knowing you couldn't get to yours. "The power is off" Peter shouted to you. Coming back down, now in one of his V-necks, you saw him trying the lights, "do you have any candles?" you asked."In the kitchen" he said turning to look at you.

Peter looked at you with a smirk "what?" you questioned nervous, looking down at yourself. "Nothing you just look hot in my clothes," he said going into the kitchen. You rolled your eyes, but smiled and blushed a little at his words. He came back with a few candles lighting them, you spent the next few hours playing chess, talking about anything and everything. You told him all about college and you tiny flat you sheared, then about the few new friends you had made. Peter told you all about his different holidays he'd had, and all about the war with the humans in beacon hills.

"if someone had told me, I would have come back to help," you said after hearing about what your friends had been through. "I'm glad you weren't" he said not looking at you moving his rook. You bite back a small smile at the idea he sounded worried about you. "Oh," you say moving your pawn to block his move "and why is that?" you ask taking your hand off the piece looking up at him. "Well being human your not much help" he smirked going to make his next move.

This was the reason you couldn't fall for him before or even now. You knew he never had feelings for you or ever would. To him, you would always be human and out of his league. "It's your turn y/n," he said breaking you from your thoughts. "So anyone special at college?" Peter said starting a new conversion waiting for you to make your move. "What's it to you" you answer still annoyed with his human comment. "Take that as a no then," he said with another smirk. You rolled eyes "no, there isn't anyone but I don't get why you care," you say snappy.

Peter frowns his brows, "checkmate" he says moving his queen to win. "And I do care, about you anyway," he said low. You looked at peter confused and sad "just not the way I want" you say under your breath walking away. You forgot Peter had wolf hearing and cringed when you realised he heard you. Peter stood up grabbing your arm. "And what is it you want?" he asked. He stood towering over you glaring into your eyes, waiting for an answer. "I...I don't know" you stuttered out nervously, now looking at the floor.

Peter closed the gap between you, putting his hand on your chin, to make you look at him. "How do you want me to care for you Y/n" his face became closer, making shudder a breath. When you didn't answer he smirked again "do you want me like this" he whispers in yours. Peter leans down to kiss you, in surprise, you freeze at first. Peter stops looking into your eyes, you look at him and smile leaning back in to kiss him again.

When the kiss stops Peter smirks "so is that what you meant?" he asked. You bit your lip nodding, "good because I've wanted you, this for a long time" he smiled before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. "Really?" you ask when he stops, Peter looks you up and down. "of course I have, all the flirting, telling you how hot you look all that wasn't for fun," he tells you. You smile at him wrapping your arms around his neck, you kiss him again as he lifts you during the kiss, making you wrap your legs around him. You feel him smirk in the kiss making you stop "what?" you ask him. "I just thought I must be on Santa's good list and you really are my Christmas present" he laughs. You lightly smack his chest rolling your eyes as Peter carries you upstairs kissing you more.

#peter hale x reader #peter hale imagine #peter hale fluff #Peter Hale #christmas #teen wolf fluff #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #stiles stilinski #derek hale #sterek

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uberchain · 6 years

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(I Hope) This Is The Last Definitive TF2/OW Politics Rambling I Ever Keyboard Enthusiast About

TaiRong’s Twitter rant on why he left comp TF2 for comp OW cuts deep. His talk was very specific to AsiaFortress, but it’s a sentiment for many former TF2 pros and talent who prioritized OW. They wanted more than what TF2 was able to give them. In turn, what it gets interpreted as is a slight against TF2 and its community.

I too, have also called brothers and sisters “traitors” at one point because I hated how not only they were leaving me, but then seemed to forget their roots. They didn’t owe me or TF2 anything. It’s not that they forgot their roots, it’s that the people who left are just as angry as the people who stayed.

I will never forget Creep*, a prominent AsiaFortress player from Korea, telling me at i55 that he wanted to bring an Asian team to iSeries one day. In i58, that actually seemed like it would be the case, but the Asian players struggled to field a team for i58 because of a majority of their playerbase leaving for OW. When I reflect back on it, it would have been wasteful to collect who was left in Asia if the best players had left. Full Tilt and Crowns were the EU powerhouses, and even the weakest froyotech roster in LAN history would have probably beaten them. Australia still hurts from 4th Place LAN placements to this day.

Of course I would have liked to see Asia at a major international TF2 LAN, let alone South America or even Australia again. I hope they will get the funding they need if they decide to contest the powerhouses of Europe or North America, and I hope they will enjoy their experiences if they do so, as many TF2 players who fight for passion do. I wished the same for Australia when they came back for i58 and ESA Rewind, even though I knew the curse of 4th Place and the lack of monetary justification must have hurt a fair bit.

The fire/candle burning out metaphor is common in my scene. I’m saddened to hear about Pavane and TaiRong attempting to go through it all and fight hard after so many hours of dedication to TF2, but burning out or feeling helpless as so many others have done around me. I’m glad TaiRong asked Fl0w3r and Pine to follow him at the right time, and as such found more success in OW than they did TF2. It took me some time to accept it, but now I can say I think they made the right choice, as did so many others I saw succeed - Seagull, Muma, Mangachu. SDB, Knoxxx, Zebbosai. Some of the many old names and old faces that TF2 players remember fondly; that TF2 players miss.

I get rebuttals of how TF2 was marketed as a casual game a lot. I know this. It was one of the reasons why matchmaking was met with so much pushback when new devs finally were allowed to implement it. To some extent, I’m inclined to agree. My favourite shit to deal with has to be when I see comments that say that the competitive TF2 pros are ruining the game. That they should just leave and stop pushing competitive on a casual game.

Well...they did.

After years of watching Valve to push the community’s 6v6, having to grow up and stop being a salt factory about my brothers and sisters going to OW instead, being paid for and thanked sincerely for my involvement in OW from Blizzard, never touching Valve’s Matchmaking since the first launch week until they adjust it again, and now overseeing what might be the most important piece of TF2 narrative in the form of 1 and a half years of filming - I’m okay with them leaving.

They left, because TF2 itself, as well as the majority of TF2′s playerbase, was insistent on TF2 being a casual game. Therefore, people who wanted more than that finally decided “alright, it’s going to stay a casual game” - and found a competitive game instead. Gameplay opinions, criticized business tactics, and other semantics aside - they found a game that did not limit itself to insisting on being a casual game, but wanted to also be called a competitive game.

I am happy for TaiRong’s success and determination. I understand and sympathize with TaiRong’s anger and his frustration. I am happy he left TF2 if he was no longer happy with it. I can objectively say as a bigger TF2 fan that OW is treating him better so far. How long that will last, I don’t know, but I can 100% say it’s treated him better than AsiaFortress from his tweets and from what I know. Of course I’m sad that TF2 was not enough for him; I understand that his and many other’s anger is more at Valve than TF2 itself. I understand the other side of the story that disagree with that sentiment and will point out Valve’s decisions as wiser.

But that’s okay. I’m glad they left if they weren’t happy here. I’m glad they’re happier where they are.

I’m sure similar fandoms experience this: I see not just former pros, but content creators, artists, Youtubers, talking about how they fear returning to TF2 for anything. The reasons sometimes are similar: they’re afraid of angry TF2 fans who labelled them traitors. They’re afraid of falling back into the comfort TF2 will offer them rather than go out of their comfort zone to try new things for themselves. They’re afraid that they’ll fall back into a depressive state because they were either in a bad state when they ventured into TF2, or they simply will always want more than TF2 was or will be able to offer.

Let them leave then. They are not yours to keep. They were not meant to stay. Their relationship with TF2 was not as fond as you thought it was - who was wrong in that relationship is up to you. Their anger is not because they forgot their roots. Their anger iis not against the community. Some of their closest friends and teammates are all probably from the same roots.

We did not forget their roots. They did not forget their roots. Their anger was because they couldn’t find what they wanted - so they found it elsewhere. And that’s okay.

*Pavane turned out to be Creep.

#comp ow #comp tf2 #overwatch esports #tf2 #ow #comp crap #thoughts crap #long post

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ael-xander · 6 years

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The Darkening & the Lightening

Prologue

The call came to her from the one place she hoped never to hear from. She owed him. But if this was as bad as was hinted…another call came in, this one from the people, no her adopted family, she just recently spent time with- Wakandans. They requested help for their King, in turn they promised her precious vibranium. Ael sighed, she didn’t do her job for money, though many thought her a mercenary. She was a healer, a mystic of sorts. Time to pay the piper, one who only called this tune because of a spell exchange, one specific to the Asgardians.

“Lady Ice to Nakia and Okoye, I’ll be there within fifteen. I do have my own to care for. I shall do as i can for King T’Challa, but then I must tend to the one who holds prior claim. Yes, I know he’s my Ubhuti. But remember, time is mine right now, I’m not in Wakanda, my family. Lady Ice out.”

Ael Xander grabbed her medic bag, which wasn’t quite like the ones most possessed. She also went to a locked armoire, quickly unlocking it, choosing daggers, throwing stars, and her favourite sword, sheathing on against her back. “Cannot believe he activated the damn bracelet,” she grumbled, looking at the emerald bracelet that glowed slightly. “I’ll rescue you, but you still owe me for those daggers, Loki Laufeyson.”

Finished, Ael left her home, climbed on her motorbike and headed in the direction the Wakandans said the Avengers had been fighting. One supernatural healer coming right up. ”Let’s just hope Thanos and his lackeys aren’t around.”

******

The smoke and wailing of horns were echoing in this part of New York City. Ael glanced around, grateful the damage was kept away from Bleeker Street, a place she’d have to face sooner or later. Dismounting her bike, she locked it near a trashed cop car and headed in the general direction where the Wakandans said the fallen were located.

After walking for a few moments, Ael knew she needed to risk the one thing she truly hadn’t wanted to- using her empathic abilities. It was one thing to use it while healing, but in this chaos? Steeling herself, Ael lowered the outer shields, then staggered back as suffering, death, and wrongness hit her. She couldn’t let it win. Focusing her ability, she found her link to the Wakandan King, weakened, almost gone. She also noted the one to the Asgardian, noting his was bad, but not yet as dangerously low.

Speeding eastward, she called out to the Wakandans. “Nakia! Okoye! Anyone here? T’Challa?”

”Ael? Here! Come, he needs you.” Nakia’s voice rang out, letting Ael to find the remaining Wakandans who surrounded their king. “Give me room,” she growled as she pushed through mental images of battle hitting her, fear, sadness, anger and love echoing in her soul. She bent down beside Nakia. “What the fuck happened, Nakia?”

The site greeting Ael’s eyes was unlike anything she expected. T’Challa lay bleeding, bones broken, rips in his vibranium laced suit.Nakia poured out the story, which, Ael only partially listened to, as she took out four amulets, invoking them with a word and laying them on T’Challa. She then put on her vibranium and platinum torc, forcing her will through the torc, then back down through her arms into her hands. She gestured over T’Challa, her motions smooth, fluid, precise. Once done, a healing mandala appeared and she pressed it into the king, who moaned. “Good, T’Challa, fight for your people,” she muttered as she then placed a hand on his forehead and one on his heart.

This was part of healing she hated most. Feelings, thoughts, memories all flooding her mind. She was able to block most of them, but she knew the king thought he was dying. She called to him mentally, ‘T’Challa, knock it off. Seriously, I’m over this shit of yours when I heal you, you keep trying to overwhelm my damn tele-empathic abilities. Can you focus on healing? I need you to show me where you’re hurt the worst.’

’Ael? How are you here? We will speak later, now, here, this is what was done to me.’Visions of the damage, the physical impacts done to her friend infuriated and scared her. T’Challa went through so much to be king of his people, but this was more than that- this was dedication to death. Ael knew of only one person who was Death personified, no, two, and if she lived, Ael understood why Loki called for her help. ‘Relax, T’Challa, let me do my work. You have healing amulets helping too. Your people wait for you to awaken and to lead them,Ubhuti, brother.’

Ael let her mind flow deep within T’Challa’s body, repairing the damage, encouraging growth of cells, boosting healing where needed, and once she felt him stabilise, Ael pulled herself out from the deep trance. ‘Time to awaken, your highness. I’m going to have them take you to the hospital I work. That way I can work on you while protecting you.’

Ael opened her eyes. “Take him to this hospital, “ she took out a card with her info on it. “Tell them who he is, put him under my care at CSIU. Demand it is me and Nurse Carter. She’s trustworthy. I need to go and help another. I’ll be there as soon as I can, Nakia.”

Nakia tried to protest when T’Challa spoke up, encouraging them to let Ael leave. He nodded at her and she tipped her head. Each knew they’d not speak of anything that passed between them. That was one of the things Ael demanded, silence on anything they may have seen in her mind. Especially anything her adopted royal brother may have seen. Leaving four more amulets, she raced away, heading toward the life force fading slowly but surely. Damn him. He helped cause this devastation.

Arriving at Loki’s side, Ael knelt, taking his vitals and bit back the tears threatening to fall. Though she hadn’t seen him in months, they first met over four years before. That had led to three weeks never to be repeated. Not that he hadn’t asked, but Ael knew better. She understood Loki, understood him better than he did himself. Until he realized where he stood in the universe, she would always remain his friend, but nothing more. Her heart hurt for him, for her, but until he healed himself, she couldn’t be what he needed, even then, she wasn’t sure she could. Honestly, that was enough for her, though there were times…

”Damn you, Loki. You gave Thanos the Tesseract! I thought you had smartened up. Obviously, you’re still self destructive. Let’s heal you up a bit so I can get you home.” Following a similar, yet slightly different pattern, Ael laid a healing pattern within Loki, then placed her hands on his head and heart, letting her mind sink into his, encouraging him to heal. ‘Loki, talk to me. Where are you hurt?’

’Darling, you finally showed up. I thought I’d end up dead before you would finish with that cat man.’ She stifled her annoyance, knowing he slowly took the healing she offered and directed it to where he needed it most. He hated anyone to see his weaknesses, but he forgot her abilities weren’t a child’s toy. ‘Loki, I know you tried to make up for what you promised to Thanos. I just wish you would’ve told your brother. Don’t you dare say he’s not, he is, so grow up already.’

She felt his surprise at her vehement insistence, which let her seep deeper and that’s when she saw it, the mark she feared. ‘Dammit, Loki. You know what I have to do. This is going to hurt us both. Do you trust me?’ Loki’s voice wrapped around her like a blanket, his spirit pressing hers. ‘It’s why I called for you, healer. Ael, no one else knows this spell like you do. I need her stain removed from me. You know what will happen otherwise.’

’Death.’ Ael whispered words from a time long ago, when the Vikings raged upon the seas, the Futhark were a known language, and she spoke the words that would not just undo the death mark upon Loki, but would burn a frost giant. Then all she could hear was his scream echoing in her mind and soul, making her heart break into pieces. Once she was sure the mark was gone, Ael reversed the spell, bringing soothing cold into the burned area, and Ael kept the screams of pain deep within her, not letting him know just how badly the spell hurt.

Suddenly, without warning, Ael stood in the middle of a blizzard, but she knew it wasn’t outside, but in her internal mind. ‘Loki? What is this?’ He stepped out, fully formed and hugged her close. ‘Ael, you beautiful healer, you took all the pain. Did you think I wouldn’t have known?’ He kissed her, deeply, passionately, and she responded briefly then pulled back. ‘Wait a moment. Friends. Not friends with benefits. Can you ease the cold a bit, I’m going to turn blue otherwise.’

Loki laughed in her ear but did as she asked. ‘Thank you for coming, darling one. I do still owe you.’ She lifted a brow. ‘You owe me for those daggers. Do you know how much work went into them?’ He nodded, then stole another kiss. ‘Time to wake, Ael. Time to go.’

Ael cracked open her eyes, discovering Loki looking directly back at her, his arms wrapped around her. “This could be awkward, Loki.”

His laughter rang out and he kissed her cheek. “Come Ael, I’ll grab your bag. You’ve used too much of your ability. Let me take you to your apartment to rest. I’ll find my own way back home.”

”Remember the rule we have, Loki? The one about lies? You just lied. That’s one. You know what happens at two then three. Do you want to push that far with me? I may be exhausted mentally. But I have weapons and I’m not afraid to fight you, Loki.”

”As you wish, Ael. I will make sure you recover, then I am going to find out what I can. The world is doomed unless Thanos is stopped.” She nodded and let him help her back to her motorbike. She sat in back, letting him drive, taking in his memories of everything, including his time with Dr. Strange. She needed to ask about him. If it was the same person as who worked at her hospital, then maybe…no, it couldn’t be. His hands were badly damaged. This man wielded magic and weapons. But magic allowed for much.

Once ensconced at her apartment, which had escaped damage, she turned to Loki. “Tell me about the Master of New York, this Dr. Strange.”

Prologue Chapter One: Chapter Two: Chapter Three: Chapter Four: Chapter Five: Chapter Six: Chapter Seven: Chapter Eight: Chapter Nine: Chapter Ten: Chapter Eleven: Chapter Twelve: Chapter Thirteen: Chapter Fourteen: Chapter Fifteen: Chapter Sixteen: Chapter Seventeen: Chapter Eighteen: Chapter Nineteen: Chapter Twenty: Chapter Twenty-one:

#fanfic #Dr Strange Avengers #dr. strange x original character #marvel #avengers #darkening & Lightening

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