#so this Chil here is basically me trying to figure out if saying certain things could be considered flirting or not by the other

[littlelightfish]

The hearts don't mean he is in love with no one. The problem with English is how vague of the word love is in his meaning. It envolves different kinds of caring in one single word. But I'll try to express here what I mean.

He cares, as a person, about everyone. This is a basic level of love that he haves towards everybody. He doesn't want anyone to actually die, that's what I mean. He doesn't necesarily cares about someone, but he loves them enough to not want them to die.

He starts befriending someone and gets to know it. He starts liking things about them and disliking others. He starts loving this people in another way, we'll call it liking. This is more a get-to-know phase he doesn't always like. The less he knows, the less reasons to get attached get attached he has. I think this are the kind of love the hearts show in the image. He has to make sure to keep a balance between how much he loves and how much he let's himself be loved. He doesn't want to have misunderstandings. He is in constant fear of "what if I made them love me more and they care more?"

And then it comes the deeply care that love is in the non-romantic way. This care a (good) parent has for his babies. The love that makes people suffer emotionally in an absolute different way from what it could be a heartbreak or a misunderstanding between friends. If something happens to the loved one, the pain is unbearable. It's one of the worst things rhat can happen. And Chilchuck knows this, he is father of three daughters, and his wife left him. She left, he knows the pain it is to come home and find it empty when there should be someone. He knows the guilt it comes with failing those loved ones. The shame. He doesn't like being this vulnerable. This love makes him suffer like no other does. So he is very very carefull of how much he allows himself to care about someone so he won't get to love like this.

He draws a line between work and private life because his private life envolves love and deep care, and he doesn't want to love nor care like this for people who's job is to constantly risk their lifes. He doesn't want to feel the anguish, he doesn't want to feel the loneliness it will come after the unenviable separation of the party.

He tries his best to not get attached to people. To not let people get attached to him. But he fails. He fails and falls downstairs with a whole drum set.

He can't help but to care about this people. He can't help but to love this people he's been living with the past few weeks in the risking of their lifes. He tells himself he's doing this for money and that he doesn't care, but he does.

Those hearts don't mean anything other than him caring about them. He cares about Senshi. He cares about Marcille. He cares about Laios. About Itsuzumi. About Namari. He cares in a way that hurts. He loves this people. He doesn't want to even imagine a world in where they are gone, or suffering, or in problems. They're his friends, they're something he, unwillingly, accepts as family.

He cares about Falin and Mickbell because he doesn't want them dead. He doesn't feel any anguish toward if they do or not get hurt after they're out of his sight. Sure, he cares, but he can live without thinking about them the rest of his days. It doesn't happen like that with Laios. He can't just simply let Laios go and follow Fallin just after he recover consciousness from a punch in the gut. Was it Mickbell, he would let him if he really didn't wanted. But Laios didn't wanted to sit and wait, and he had to care. He had to verbalize to himself that he cared. He had to let them know, so they would act accordingly. So they won't get themselves killed like idiots.

He doesn't want others to fall in romantic love with him. He doesn't feel romantic love towards anyone either. He isn't the man for this kind of love. He is, in fact, afraid of it. He doesn't want to fall in love, because he's still in love with his wife. She left him because he was negligent. But since when has this become the definitive stop for love? Chilchuck knows his wife is angry at him, and she has all the reason to be so! His husband, the one she loved and cared for, gets himself in dangerous situations, treats his body poorly and almost never is home. She loves him, and it hurts her to love like this, so she leaves. Like this she won't have to look at him get himself mistreated like he does. She would have the pull in her's stomach that tells her that he could be in great danger, that she could become a widow, but she tries to calm it with his daughter's mail to him. He could never. He can't imagine a world in wich they cease to exist. A world without his wife, even if she distanced herself, without his daughters, would be a world worthless of living. He knows this. Because he cares and he loves in such a deep level that he is scared of loving anyone else like this. To become so vulnerable to emotion. This vulnerable to something bad happening.

The fact that he is so afraid of loosing his wife, even after she left him, says a lot. He still cares about her. He is still in love with her. He wants to go back to what it was before, but he can't and he know its his fault. And he respects his wife's distance because he loves her. Now, he doesn't love her in the movie way, he isnt in love like a teenager would to his first girlfriend, he doesn't want to kiss her, or hug her, or be by her side at all moments of the day. He loves her. He cares about her deeply, deeply enough that he doesn't need to be by her side to care, to love. He also respects her. He can survive without her because he knows she's better with his daughter. For sure he wants to hug, kiss and be by the side of this person he loves, it would be ideal, but he can survive without thinking about it too much. It's just like with his daughters. They're all adults that now live far from him. And he is ok with it now. He sends mail and recieves mail, and even if he misses greatly, he can manage not to think about it. Because he knows she is allright. Because he knows he fucked up. He doesn't know where he fuked up, but for his wife to leave him, at least he knows he did. They never talked about it, because they both seem to have a problem in expressing themselves. She fell into a bad mood and then she disappeared. The amount of pain he must have felt it's... let's say it's quite big.

He keeps his guard up. He doesn't want to love deeply anyone. He doesn't want to feel the emptiness, the hurt, that comes after someone so dear leaves. He knows for a fact he'll be leaving this people. He knows that they could die. If he loves, it will hurt in a way nothing else hurts. He will miss. He doesn't like missing people he cares like this. This is why he doesn't want to love. This is why he doesn't want to be loved. This is why those hearts that are almost full are his main source of concern. This is why he makes the effort to keep this feelings at bay, to love only in the friendly way and with extreme caution.

But he can't controll his own love. And he ends up caring more and more about these people. He slowly makes him a part of the dangerous love zone that family means. He is afraid to confuse someone about his feelings towards them, so he still tries to maintain distance with his abusive remarks, but this only works so far. He loves and is loved. And because of this he will suffer.

I... I extended myself a bit I see...

#i dont even know what im talking about anymore #but i hope i made sense #as an aroace i feel the need of being extra cautious about how people think of my relationship with them #because I dont want them to like me romantically #i want friendship #because its so uncomfortablr #not #love #so this Chil here is basically me trying to figure out if saying certain things could be considered flirting or not by the other #i shouldnt care #it isnt my fault if they do fall in love with me #but i would be happier if they didnt #to know someone is in love wirh you #and that you dont love him back #but youre still friends #so youre friends but the other wants to be more than that #and to avoid that i gotta measure every interaction #maybe im a bit paranoid #but it has happened to me to have friends fall in love with me #and i dont want to hurt their feelongs but i definitely dont lovs rhem bacj #because i care abkut them in a friendly way #and i don't want them to suffer because of me. but I dont want to suffer because of them either #its all way to complicated? yes bit thing is that chil here represents me interacting with my friends #but in my case the hearts would be romantic #dungeon meshi #chilchuck #chilchuck tims #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi spoilers #my shit

[snowbellewells]

Run to Me (in the Dead of Night)

I’m so sorry that this is a few days late!  A certain savior and pirate were not working with my muse and I had a lot of grading to do besides.  I hope you will still enjoy and I’ll endeavor to get the next chapter to you on time.

As always, I’d love to hear what you think!!

And once again, I just can’t thank @wingedlioness enough for this beautiful, gorgeous banner.  I love it so much!!

chapter eight ~ come and light my eyes

by: @snowbellewells

Looking at the frilly, cream-colored curtains in the upstairs room Ruby and her Granny have given her at their B&B, Belle finally found herself able to pull in a deep, calming breath, trying to reassure herself that all will work out right in the end.  The material over the partially open window fluttered in the brisk, chil air and she found herself wanting to walk over, stick her head out and breath in huge lungfuls of the fresh breeze, so long contained in the close dark of Regina’s prisons, both pre-curse and during it, that now she had a moment to reflect on the change Belle could not get enough of the open sky and simple freedom.

She turned to the women with her, Ruby, whom she somehow already felt a kinship toward, as she and her brother had been the ones to finally set her free, and Snow White herself, princess turned schoolteacher, who still took a bit of getting used to - the Crown Princess of the realm wishing to be her friend was a bit stunning - but who seemed to be anxiously awaiting her opinion and to see if there were anything she could do to make Belle more comfortable.

“It’s lovely,” Belle offered, not sure what else to say.  Anything would be an improvement on the sparse, cement abode with a mere cot to sleep on that she had spent 28 years inhabiting, and the safety of being somewhere not under either the Evil Queen or Rumplestiltskin’s control was all that truly concerned her.  She was mostly just grateful her friend had helped her to find lodging at all, though she had no money to pay for it or any idea what she was doing in this odd “Land Without Magic” so different from the Enchanted Forest she had known.  Her fingers were already itching to find books on the history and makeup of this new realm.  Her mind and curiosity, which had for so long been starved, were finally able to dig in and learn at her pleasure once more.

“Thank you, so much,” she added, looking to Ruby, though the tall, leggy brunette was already waving away her gratitude with an easy grin.  “You didn’t have to do this for me, on top of giving me my life back.  How will I ever repay you?”

“No need for that, honest!” Ruby answered quickly.  “We almost never have all our rooms claimed.  You can tell,” she gestured to the open window, “that Granny was airing it out because it had been empty for quite a while.”

Belle still shook her head, incredibly touched by the kindness and generosity of the woman who stood before her, even - to her own embarrassment - as she tried once more to explain that she’d find some way to pay them back or return the favor, she felt her eyes filling up with tears at Ruby and her Granny’s caring.  She couldn’t be sure if it was because she’d had so little human contact at all for so many years, or if it was the gentle concern and friendship she was being offered over the brute force and callous mistreatment she had suffered, but Belle was more than a bit overwhelmed and almost beyond words.

In this case, it was the former princess Snow White who seemed to know better what to do.  The pixie-haired women beside her offered an understanding half-smile, reaching over to give her a light one-armed hug.  She searched Belle’s eyes, as if genuinely hoping to determine if she had overstepped her bounds, and then offered sweetly, “It’s a lot, believe me.  We all understand.  Everyone here was lost, scared, and confused when the curse first broke.  We’ve all had a bit of time to acclimate though, and we were living every day lives in this world.  You don’t have any of that to fall back on.  Give yourself some time. You’ll get there.  And you can always call on us.”

Ruby nodded along enthusiastically - her agreement clearly total.  “That’s right. We’re all in this together now.  Besides, I can’t even imagine how strange all this modern world must seem coming at you at once. Like Snow said, Regina’s curse sort of uploaded a modern persona who was at home in this place to most of our heads.  You didn’t get that, so the least we can do is help where we can.”

Belle felt her shoulders lower somewhat from where they had hitched up with tension, and she released a calming breath with the two other women’s assurances.  There was no sense in continuing to fight them; she needed the help and the basic human companionship, and they seemed eager to give it.  “Well, I’m still much indebted to you,” she added, but I’ll gladly accept your offer. You and your Granny - and your brother too…” Here Belle paused as her cheeks flushed prettily and she glanced down at her fidgeting hands before hurrying on.  “You’ve all been so good to me - more than I could possibly merit - and I’m grateful.”

Ruby shot a knowing, sidelong look at Snow upon Belle’s clear blushing at the very thought of Graham, to which the princess gave a small nod of acknowledgement and pleased smile in return.  She didn’t comment though, and motioned for Ruby to carry on without teasing or drawing attention to their already flustered new friend.

The female werewolf had already determined this for herself, even as her eyes twinkled and she couldn’t completely hold back the toothy grin she gave herself. She was glad to see her adopted brother’s good heart, bravery, and honor recognized and appreciated.  More than that though, she also believed that this poor woman, held prisoner for so long by the same malicious queen who had so scarred and tormented Graham, might be good for him; might be able to understand what he was still hunted by in a way neither she nor anyone else could.  Perhaps they could help each other move on.

“Don’t even give it another thought!” was all she said, enthusiastically waving away any of Belle’s lingering concerns.

Snow spoke up again, an idea lighting her face as it came to her pleasantly.  “You know who needs to come talk to you?” she asked Belle eagerly. “Henry!”

“Henry?” Belle’s curious brow crinkled, having not yet met the eager little boy. “Who is he?’

“My grandson,” Snow explained, warming to her idea with growing enthusiasm.  “He’s Emma’s little boy.  It was Henry who figured out the Evil Queen’s curse and brought Emma here to break it and set us all free.  His storybrook might be just the thing for you to look at - it has all of our stories, and he’d be thrilled to show it to you.  I took a few personal days off from school, but I’m still set to pick Henry up from there this afternoon. I could bring him by and you could meet him. Looking through those stories would help you get a sense of who’s who here, and maybe even remind you of some of your own tale.”

Not surprisingly, Belle looked excited by the plan as well.  “That would be wonderful!” she enthused.  “Are you sure he wouldn’t mind?”

Snow shook her head vigorously. “Of course not.  He’ll love it! And I’ll clear it with Emma so she knows where he is and won’t worry.”

With a decisive nod, Belle returned her new friend’s smile.  “Then it’s a plan!” she affirmed.

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

David and Graham had followed the hidden passage all the the way to Regina’s family vault in the cemetery and found nothing. Though they benefited from knowing the tunnel was there and could at least be somewhat prepared if she tried to attack them by surprise, it wasn’t as though they could completely block the entrance point from someone who wielded magic. Regina could certainly apparate herself wherever she chose.  Still, they at least knew a point she might choose and could be on the lookout. It might also serve as an extra exit if they needed to get out of the office in a hurry or try to do some surveillance on the Mills mother and daughter team of terror.

Despite all that, it wasn’t really the helpful break in their search or the advantage on Regina they had hoped they might find.  Regardless, not much else was going to come from their standing in the dark, all too close to the Evil Queen’s probable lair, except for her appearing and catching them when they had no magical firepower of their own, nor even a game plan to defend themselves. Turning to head back the way they had come, both men began retracing their steps through the passageway back toward town.

Thankfully, their return walk was as uneventful as their trip out, and by the time they were once more at the sheriff station, it was time to lock up for the night.  After doing so, they headed toward Granny’s, knowing that was where they were likely to find their friends and family members at this late dinner hour, and both of them were more than ready to eat besides. However, as they stepped into the enclosed courtyard outside the diner, David reached out to place a hand on Graham’s shoulder, asking him to stop just a second.

“What is it?” the sheriff asked, curiously looking at his realm’s once-Prince with an arched brow, not sure what he might have in mind.

Charming, who was now long since more comfortable as plain David Nolan, seemed to flounder for a moment before he could speak.  He held the former Huntsman’s gaze steadily, but his mouth opened, then closed again silently before he could force out the words. When he finally did, the guilt and pained gratitude painted across his face was clearly recognizable. “What my wife told you earlier? About the debt we owe you? How you spared her life and then paid horribly for it?  It’s true.  I owe you more thanks than I could ever give you as well.  If not for your mercy, I would have lost my True Love forever. That’s a fate I cannot comprehend. Not only that, we would never have had Emma. My daughter exists because you spared Snow’s life, and then - even when Regina held your heart - you helped me to escape her dungeons to find Snow and wake her from the sleeping curse.”

Graham shook his head, looking embarrassed by the praise; in fact, he seemed almost unable to meet David’s earnest eyes.  “I don’t know about all of that.  It seems that you and Snow White would always have found each other, no matter what.”

The shepherd monarch shrugged good naturedly, but he still gave the other man’s shoulder a lingering squeeze before he released his grip.  “Be that as it may, I can’t quite believe we would have managed all our close calls and reunions without even more cost, if not for your aid.”

“Please, your Majesty,” Graham pressed, bowing his head slightly and continuing to look more than a bit flustered and overwhelmed with the Prince’s gratitude than he knew how to take in stride. “Think no more of it.  What else could I do?  She was innocent, and even at the risk of her own life, she still thought only of her people rather than herself.  When the chance came to free you, to let you reach her in time and save her once more… well, I couldn’t do otherwise. You were every bit as worthy and true as your princess; neither of you merited the terrible fate Regina had in store.  Not only was I merely doing what was right, it also gave me a small moment of defiance, of acting as myself against her rule, after what I feared would be unending darkness in her clutches.”

David seemed to be the one who was embarrassedly uncertain of the honor bestowed on him by those words of his humble but noble former subject.  He was visibly battling real emotion to press through and offer his final words on the matter; his voice intense and determined to make the man before him, who had given up so much for David’s family, who had not even been able to remember his sacrifice until recently, understand. “Clearly neither of us wants to dwell on painful moments of the past, nor have someone lavish praises on us for only acting as we felt we must. Just know that I consider myself at your service, Huntsman.  I recognize the price you paid, and the life I now enjoy, which would have been lost twice over without your heroism. Snow and I will always be in your corner if you have need of us.”

Shaking his head in reluctant acquiescence, knowing he was not going to convince the other man to forget what he felt he owed Graham left the matter at that. In truth, he was touched that they, his monarchs, would be so appreciative and hold him in enough esteem to wish to return the favor.  In some small way, it did his mending psyche at least a modicum of good to know that something worthwhile had come from his imprisonment, from the scars he had borne and still harbored within. He could see that at least it hadn’t been for naught.

By then, both men were sufficiently discomfited and ended the exchange with a clasped, firm handshake before heading into the diner to reunite with the rest of the group. The reciprocal understanding and newly cemented alliance was not forgotten, but it was not something which needed continual restatement with further words.

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

Meanwhile in the ramshackle forest cabin where Emma and Killian had taken refuge, the evening chill had begun to retreat from the warmth of the newly started fire in the hearth, flickering light from it patterned the walls of rough-hewn log almost cozily in spite of the tense events they had weathered and the emotions pulsing vividly between them, silent but inescapable, and Emma felt, nearly stealing the breath from her lungs.

Killian’s eyes sought her out, honing in on her with a focus that left her frozen in his intense azure stare, unable to move, or speak, for a second absolutely certain that this must be how he stalked and caught his prey in his wolf form. Whatever quarry he was after must find itself transfixed by that predatory gaze and not even find the will to run for its life. Blinking almost dumbly, Emma tried to shake her wits back into gear, mouth dry and opening and closing uselessly as she attempted both to escape Killian’s ensnaring eyes but not completely flounder at the beauty of the rest of him on display before her in the glow of the firelight.

She lifted the quickly cooling washcloth and bottle of peroxide she clutched in each hand apologetically, not at all sure what to do with herself or the simple items she’d found to hopefully help him. Though Killian did still sport a shoulder almost completely purpled with dark bruising and a clearly gaping wound where the silver bullet had passed clear through, it was already knitting itself back together and had nearly ceased bleeding.  Though there was a disturbingly reddened slash down his deliciously distracting - ‘no, Emma, stop right there!’ she chided herself internally - furred chest, where she knew Gold had practically sliced him open to get to his heart, it too was already closed, looking tender but no longer life-threatening as it had appeared when she’d burst in upon the scene in the clearing.  His whole torso sported various smaller gashes and cuts, but when she thought of what had almost happened, and that possibility made her swallow down a shuddery breath of a sob, none of them were as horrible as she had frankly expected him to bear.

He did still have a thin trail of blood running down that arm to his maimed left hand, however. Finally settling on a focus where she could do some good, Emma stepped forward hesitantly, but still nearer with each pace, drawn to him despite her fear of somehow injuring him further, of getting herself so entangled that she couldn’t pull away, of caring for this man so much more than she had ever intended. When she stood before him at last, her eyes did flick to his waist, taking in every bit of him as he stood there exposed and seeming more than a little frozen himself. Doggedly, she drug her eyes back to Killian’s mouth curved to give her a more gently subtle version of his knowing smirk, and tried to ignore the tell tale heat of the blush spreading over her cheeks and down her neck and chest.

When she took his wrist, Killian offered her his arm, holding it out willingly at her unspoken request.  Gently, she brought the cloth to his skin, cleaning gingerly at the dried blood.  Though he winced a bit, Killian didn’t flinch away and stood still for her ministrations, watching her with something akin to tender though stunned disbelief.  Emma found herself wondering what had happened to him in the past, about the loss to match her own and then some that she could read in the depths of his blue eyes, just how long he had been alone, and if he genuinely was as unused to someone caring for him when he was hurt as he appeared to be.  Her own lonely heart went out to his in that moment, understanding more clearly than ever just why she might be so drawn to his side.

When the long cut was a last cleansed to her satisfaction, Emma tossed the washcloth to the side and unscrewed the cap on the bottle of hydrogen peroxide.  Biting her lip uncertainly, she glanced up in a bit of warning to say, “This might sting a bit,” before pouring a healthy amount over the gash in his forearm to prevent infection.

Killian hissed in a sharp bit of air, looking at her with a surprised expression as he exclaimed, “Ah! Bloody hell, what is that?”

Emma snorted at his reaction. “It’s just peroxide - and quite a waste at that, seeing how much I got on the floor and that you seem to pretty much heal yourself anyway.”

Reaching for the towel she’d also brought in with her, she dabbed away at the excess moisture as Killian’s frame seemed to relax once again. Before he could protest that she needn’t worry herself or that it wasn’t necessary, she studied the treated gash a bit longer before she slowly, deliberately leaned over his forearm still cradled in her grasp, to press her lips along the marred skin.  Slowly, while her mouth still lingered tantalizingly, she looked up to meet his breathless gaze through her fluttering lashes.

Her patient’s eyes widened almost comically as she did so, nearly panting as if he were suddenly as breathless as she felt. If he were in his wolf form, she almost felt his tail would have been wagging. The conjured image made her bold, willing to give him the raw truth as much as she would normally hide it away.  Straightening, Emma reached to brush the fringe of dark hair that had fallen across his forehead back with delicate fingers before finally whispering hoarsely. “In all honesty though, Jones.  I thought I’d lost you there for a minute.” Emma didn’t love how scratchily raw and agonized her voice sounded just then, didn’t easily let loose this much emotion, worry and fear for someone who could so easily break her if she let him. Yet, she didn’t have any choice.  She couldn’t withhold it from him.  Killian needed to know she cared, and somewhere in the depths of her own being, Emma felt she needed to be able to care that much, to give herself to someone without having to hold back.

Killian brought his right hand up to cup her cheek warmly, looking as if there were so many things he wanted to say in response that he didn’t know where to start. His strong fingers caressed along her jaw and Emma leaned her head into his touch, simply enjoying the contact for several blissful seconds.  Her eyes closed and she hummed in pleasure under her breath, wanting to savor the moment, the goodness, after such fear that it had nearly been taken from her.

She had to finish though, or she might never get it said. Blinking back moisture from her eyes, Emma finally managed, “No, Killian, I mean it. I’ve lost enough in my life.  I can’t...I can’t lose you too.”  Her voice wavered pitifully to her own ears, but Emma bit her lip and held the tears back, turning her face into his hand as if trying to absorb his warmth and hide within the comfort he provided.

Coaxing her back to meet his eyes, Killian offered a crooked smile, indeed touched and more than a bit overcome himself. He couldn’t have even let himself hope this tough, guarded woman he’d first felt himself pulled toward would come to care that much for him, the gift of such affection was something he’d long believed would never be his again. “Oh Swan,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “you don’t have to worry about me. I’m a survivor.”

She huffed out a breath at his shaky attempt at humor. Shaking her head, she opened her mouth to argue, not at all ready to joke about the close call or to picture him not surviving.

“Besides,” and now his crooked smile turned a bit wicked, teasing her playfully and relieving the intensity between them, “you clearly have my back.”

She cackled almost breathlessly at his humor, the charged moment breaking as he waggled his brows playfully. Smirking, she arched her own in flirtatious comeback, responding gratefully to the lightened mood.  Her hands snaked around his wiry frame, tracing up his muscled back, lovingly caressing old, healed over scars and the tight contours of his heated body before slipping lower to squeeze his rump in her roaming hands. “And what a nice back it is,” she winked in return.

“Is that so?” he chuckled, looking more than a bit flushed and pleased with himself as he swept in, taking his turn to pull her closer and trace her curves.

And then, as though a match had been struck, the fuel between them ignited.  The heartfelt confessions gave way to assurance that let them plunge forward.  Hands grasping, mouths melding, the physical caught up to the emotional as they tumbled to the floor before the fireplace, tangled together on the blanket Killian had dropped, finding exactly the type of healing they both needed.

Tagging: @cssns @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @kiwistreetswan @searchingwardrobes @laschatzi @hollyethecurious @resident-of-storybrooke @allofdafandoms-blog @branlovesouat @capswantrue @quicksilvermad @winterbaby89 @kday426

#cssns #cs au mc #cs werewolf au #cs ff #run to me (in the dead of night) #chapter eight