#why kill when you can get your lonely tarnished to do it for you

[acetier]

massive, self-indulgent elden ring art dump feat. varré and my tarnished, torin

he’s a lonely man of faith who finds himself slowly becoming disillusioned in said faith and succumbing to the Local Bad Influence (varré)

also wish you could bring your terrible little war surgeon with you when you become elden lord ,’:^)

#elden ring #elden ring oc #tarnished #confessor #tw: blood #ace draws #torin #varre #white mask varre #white faced varre #sorry for the tag spam in advance btw #how many tags can i add to a post? #we're about to find out lol #we'll be back to your (ir)regularly scheduled zelda after this i just needed to get it oUT of my head lmao #varré is perfectly capable of fighting and killing #but torin doesn't need to know that yet #why kill when you can get your lonely tarnished to do it for you #with the promise of affection as a reward :-) #their dynamic has been fun to write #they make each other worse before they make each other...even worse? #they're both pathetic your honor #torin: holding onto whatever affection varré gives him like a lifeline even though he logically knows he can't trust varré or his motives #eventually throwing his morals away and allowing varré to recruit him into mohg's blood cult #with the ulterior motive of usurping/killing mohg out of the desire to have varré to himself #bc he's just that starved of love and will do anything to get it #varré: knows how torin feels about him and uses intimacy to manipulate him into joining mohg's dynasty #and realizes against his will that he never wants to share that kind of devotion with anyone else now that it's directed at himself #they're both guilt/shame-ridden and it's a Fun Time #everyone: restore the elden ring and become the elden lord #torin: instructions unclear. dick stuck in war surgeon

[clouds-rambles]

The Warmth of the Grim Reaper (Somewhat a Continuation)

Wooo! Angst! I did get a little carried away, coming at a total of 1816 words. Anyways, I hope you cry and I say that with love <3

- 🌙

Pov. You're Kaeya's spouse.

The knocking on your front door only grows louder and more frantic as you stumble downstairs in the darkness of the night. It's too frantic, too desperate, leaving no room for you to hesitate.

"Y/N," before the door even fully opens, the familiar voice cries out to you, "I'm sorry!"

Diluc is standing in front of you. Except it's not him. It's not the calm, collected gentleman you've always known as your husband's brother. Standing before you is a shell of a man, it's void filled with alcohol in a haphazard attempt to drown the emotions that carve the hole in the first place. Standing before you is a mess.

Your voice is quite as you try to look past the mess, "Diluc, come in plea-"

"No!" he interrupts you, "No, you don't understand! I shouldn't even be here! I shouldn't be near you! I shouldn't-"

"Diluc please calm down!" you have to raise your voice to get him to listen. It hurts you, the state he's in, but it hurts you more that you understand why. He lost everyone he ever cared about in such a short amount of time; it's only natural to get emotional. Loss hurts, and you know that all too well. How long has it been since you lost Kaeya? A week? Two weeks? You don't know. You stopped counting the days that your grief would stretch into long lonely years. But now, in the gentlest voice you can manage, you comfort your now-gone husband's brother, "It's alright. I promise!"

"No! It won't be. It can't be," he goes quiet, red eyes dropping, defeated, to the ground, "Not when I'm still here."

Your heart sinks at his words. Diluc always tried to present himself as someone stern and almost emotionless, almost creating an image of someone cruel and cold, but here, now, you could see he was hurting. He hurt deeply, his own thoughts fighting against him and weighing him down. It’s so sad to see him like this, but you understand. You understand the feeling of guilt that comes with helplessness, especially when everyone else leaves you alone.

“Don’t say that, Diluc,” you say quietly, coaxing him to come and sit on the couch.

“I killed Kaeya.”

You feel your breath hitch and your heart tighten. “No, you didn’t,” you reach for his hand trying to offer comfort but he moves it away. Instead, you just look at him and offer a gentle smile, saying, “Diluc, you couldn’t have saved him. Kaeya was known for diving head first into danger, and this time… I guess he miscalculated. Mitachurls-”

"No, Y/N!" Diluc's face is serious and his sparkling red eyes tarnished with a deep-set grief, “I killed Kaeya.”

You can't help getting the sense that his words are genuine, true, and not just some sort of delusional metaphor of a grieving man. But they can't be. They can't be! Diluc wouldn't- no! He couldn't do that to his own brother... right?

"I was angry. I- I thought he was- I mean-" He looks down, tears streaming down his face freely, "(Diluc's wife's name), dad- Kaeya was always there and- and I thought- I blamed him."

"Diluc please-" your voice trembles as you desperately force the cork to stay down on your own bottle of emotions, "Please stop talking."

He obliges and the two of you are left in silence; it’s a not-so-comfortable silence. You’re both too busy drowning in your own thoughts and feelings, choking and gasping for even the slightest bit of air, while simultaneously being painfully aware of the other person next to you in the same situation, and yet, it feels appropriate.

“Would you like a drink?” you ask, your voice raspy, trying to find any excuse to leave, even if just for a moment.

Diluc only shakes his head, not daring to meet your eyes, fearing your kindness more than your anger.

Your legs feel weak as you walk towards the kitchen. Kaeya. As much as you hate to admit it, you’ve been trying to forget. Thinking about the night you found out- the night when Jean came to your door with a solemn expression and a letter, the night when you cried to the point of numbness, the night you lost your husband- it hurt. But the more you hurt, the more numb you became. It wasn’t good for you.

You still hurt, more than anyone would guess by the way you behaved, but

And now, standing before you, here he is. Or at least all you have left of him. The cracked cryo vision hangs dully from one of your favourite photos of him. This is all you have left from your husband. This is a constant reminder of all that has been and all that could have been but never will be anymore.

You never went to see his body after they found it and brought it back to the city to be prepared for the funeral. You couldn’t, because if you did, you know you wouldn’t have let go of it.

You miss him. You miss him and it hurts.

Maybe that's why you understood Diluc right now.

You reach for a glass and pour some water for yourself. You hope maybe a drink will stop the tears from burning your eyes, maybe it’ll drown the sobs stuck in your throat, maybe it’ll make it a little better.

“He begged me to spare him,” Diluc’s voice starts quietly from the other room, startling you slightly, “He begged me to let him live. “Please Diluc,“ he cried out to me, “Please let me live!” I didn’t listen. I didn’t care. “I have Y/N! I want to live with them! I want to have children with them! I want to grow old with them! Please! I want to live!” Archons, he fought me! He was clinging onto that life he wanted with you and he fought for it!”

Your heart is pounding against your chest. Staring at the small photo, now blurry through your tears, you can’t stop the words Diluc just said from replaying. “I have Y/N! I want to live with them! I want to have children with them! I want to grow old with them!” the memory of Kaeya’s voice echoes through your head, ”Please!”

Why can you picture it so vividly? How was Diluc making this up so realistically?

“I think he loved me more than I ever loved him,” Diluc’s voice, now seemingly emotionless though you could still feel the deeply imbued sadness in it, continued, “He didn’t want to die, but he didn’t want to fight me either. Before eventually reaching for his sword he first tried bargaining, pleading “Please brother!” Fuck, he still saw me as his brother even as I threw fire at him! “Please brother,” he begged me, “I’ll take Y/N and we’ll leave Mondstadt if that’s what you desire! I won’t bother you anymore!” But I was convinced that if I wasn’t the one he was bothering, he’d just find someone else. I felt like I needed to end him then and there.”

Diluc pauses. You can’t see anymore, the thick tears keep welling up in your eyes, even as they fall down your cheeks. Straining your ears to listen into the other room, you can hear quiet sobbs, muffled probably by his hand, escaping Diluc.

After a loud breath, he continues, “When father passed, I did the same thing. I turned on him. I blamed him and I wanted him dead. Except that time, he wanted death too. He lay there as I hurt him, accepting his fate. This time, he wanted to live. He had a reason to live. He had you, Y/N! And I took his life away from him.”

“He shouldn’t be dead,” Diluc’s voice was quiet and heavy, “I should have let him live.”

Glass shattered and water splashed on your feet, bringing you back to reality. You dropped the water you forgot you were holding. Diluc did kill your husband. Diluc did kill the one who called him brother. Diluc did kill Kaeya. It was all crashing down on you like a wave now and you were drowning.

“Leave,” your voice is no louder than a whisper, but in the silence of your home you know Diluc heard it.

“I’m so sorry Y/N-”

“Leave!”

The second you hear the front door close, your knees give out beneath you. Your clothes are absorbing the spilled water and the sharp edges of the shattered glass are pressing into your skin, but you don’t care. You can’t, not anymore. How can you if the one thing- one person you cared about most wasn’t here anymore? His life was stolen from him, and he did everything he could to try to stop it!

“I want to live with them!” Kaeya. “I want to have children with them!” Kaeya! “I want to grow old with them!” Kaeya! “Please let me live!” His voice screams in your head.

How badly did it hurt him? How distraught was he, knowing he was dying by the hand of his adoptive brother? How much pain was he in knowing he'd never get to fulfil his dreams and live out the life he wanted to with you?

“Please let me live!”

You can only close your eyes and cry. You cry until you can’t anymore and the numbness overcomes you, and then you’re just left huddled on the floor, clutching the dilapidated vision and the photo of your beloved close to your chest.

What happened to Diluc? You can’t be sure, but also, you don’t care. When you woke up the next day, all traces of him disappeared. He failed to show up for his shift at the Angel's Share and the servants at Dawn Winery also claimed to not have seen him. Where did he go? What did he do? The many questions circulating the city will remain unanswered, but you're fine with that. In some way, you find comfort in the fantasy that maybe something terrible happened to him so that he suffered just as much as he made both you and your late husband suffer. But of course, whenever you received condolences from friends and strangers alike, both for your husband who was outnumbered against a hoard of mitachurls, as well as for your friend and adoptive-brother-in-law who moved away from Mondstad in an attempt to relieve his grief, you accepted them. Nobody else had to know about what Diluc confessed to you that night, and sometimes, even you found comfort in the lies.

In the end, isn’t it easier to put the blame on something without a conscience? At least that way, you wouldn’t have to spend your nights laying awake, replaying the confession of a guilt-devoured mess, questioning what could have been if only he had let him live.

HOLY SHIT 🌙 THIS WAS AMAZING AND ANGST FILLED YOU ABSOLUTE ICON HOLY COW

WHEN I WROTE THE ORIGINAL I NEVER CONSIDERED A KAEYA SPOUSE AND IT MAKES IT ALL WORSE (AKA BETTER) I AM CRYING TEARS OMG

#major character death #tw death #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #im crying 🌙

[ganymedesclock]

a thing about your headcanons that really intrigues me is that, much as Knuckles seems to have originally been done as a contrast or rival to Sonic back in the Genesis days, your take on them has a opposite approach to the responsibility they feel, but done in opposite ways. Sonic runs from responsibility and doesn't want to think about it, while Knuckles feels guilty about NOT being responsible to an extreme, and since people don't often deal with how they're similar, i really like this

Honestly, this is a thread that is not exclusive to Sonic and Knuckles, but actually ties in heavily to a major theme I'm considering and working in Worlds AU.

Basically, "freedom" has always at least nominally been a theme associated with Sonic. It's in his motifs, it's in his attitudes, it's the quality that people tend to envy when they compare themselves to him- whether that's Knuckles who feels bound by fate and obligation, Tails who feels like he might not be enough or can only keep up, Amy who dreads the drudgery of her ordinary life by comparison. Hell, one could say it's even in the many one-off characters who are introduced with Sonic blowing into their life, changing things, inspiring them to grow, and then leaving- Elise, Merlina, Chris Thorndyke, Chip, Shahra.

But it's a theme that's kind of been weakened in the direction that the games took.

In Sonic SatAM, the concept of freedom vs. tyranny was rife in the setting. Robotnik had his boot down on 90% of the world and the remaining pockets are either actively dwindling, or struggling along as best they can through limited resources. All characters are- at any time- in danger of losing specifically their freedom; not their minds, but control of their bodies. And it's a compelling hook.

But the gameverse has very long not been that, and since Sonic Adventure, the world of the games has been very metropolitan. There's a bunch of cities and countries and everybody's going about their daily lives and Eggman's still a wannabe conqueror but he's now become abstracted, a supervillain, who might have this big scheme or that, but- basically until Sonic Forces- we have never had Eggman really decisively in control. And in his absence, there are not really ever any consistent or clear threats to freedom except that, yeah, we guess if we let someone like Solaris or Perfect Chaos or Black Doom run wild long enough that would kill people and then nobody would be free, but... that's an abstract and inelegant way to speak to one of your main center themes.

(and I personally don't like Forces basically trying to reinstate- even if temporarily- the SatAM status quo, even if I think some people like the IDW comics have done interesting things with that, but that's my personal relationship with the character of gameverse Eggman and how I view him distinctly from SatAM Robotnik, as absolutely iconic as the latter is)

I don't think you need an encroaching dystopia per se to make a meaningful discussion out of freedom- I think using the modern gameverse's more colorful, populated world opens up a lot of possibilities for that. So, a major thematic thing I've landed on is that abject tyranny- while the easiest 'threat to freedom' to scan and oppose- and an important one!- is not remotely the only thing that challenges freedom.

A big thing is responsibility.

Responsibility is the thing that most of us sacrifice our freedom to on a daily basis. That may sound dramatic, but it's true; we may have other reasons for it, but we don't just run off somewhere else or go have an adventure or leave our job because we feel responsible to things. And responsibility isn't a bad thing- it's good to feel reliable or trustworthy. If you enjoy your job or your coworkers, you want to do well at it. Having a house is a responsibility, we take care of them. Having a relationship of any kind is a responsibility; so is having kids. If none of us were ever responsible, society would fall apart and we'd all live lonely lives. Moreover, we'd have very little power- ironically a lack of responsibility can lead to a lack of freedom in some regards.

But also, it's very easy to give too much of yourself away and not have any left. I mentioned before that many characters are consistently depicted, across many continuities, idealizing Sonic- because Sonic's free! Sonic doesn't buy groceries or pay taxes or do boring stuff, he certainly isn't stuck in a frustrating or isolating situation, and this can even tie into one of Sonic's major themes- he refuses to be talked into accepting lesser evils.

In Sonic and the Black Knight, Merlina tries to explain to him why she's using Excalibur's scabbard- why she's doing bad things, trying to justify it that she can't just let the kingdom end, even if that means needing to twist it into a horrible place to live- to which she at one point, in frustration, asks if Sonic understands, to which he responds, "No, and I don't want to."

While it's not exactly a perfect moral stance (those don't exist), there is something to be said powerfully for the idea that Sonic as a person has a certain rejection of responsibility as a chain to let bad things happen. He rejects loyalty to a thing that drives you into cruelty.

And this is really interesting, when we consider- specifically in the very first game that featured Shadow and featured him explicitly as a dark antithesis to Sonic- that is exactly what happens to Shadow.

Shadow is not, by default, an amoral person. Pre-trauma, we see that he doesn't want to hurt others, and frankly, as much as "ow the edge" circles (and is somewhat warranted), we can often see that he's standoffish but fairly civil; someone who is dealing with a lot of stresses and problems, but doesn't often relish hurting others unless he's already desperate, frustrated, or looking for an outlet or solution. And in adventure 2, Shadow is led into nearly ending the planet on account of loyalty; to the idea of Maria, to what he believes she asked him to do (and what he believes is owed to the people who killed her)

It's kind of conspicuous that if you think about it, most of Shadow's arcs in various games that focused on him are about questions of what's owed- to him, or to the world. Does he owe a debt to Eggman? Rouge? Black Doom? Gerald? Maria? Does the world owe him a debt of anger and pain to be paid back in vengeance, or, is he the one who owes the world a chance? Does he owe himself a chance? These are questions of Responsibility.

So to bring this back to Sonic and Knuckles, I think that's an interesting context to set them apart, because both of those two definitely have a special relationship with the Chaos Emeralds. Knuckles is the guardian of the shrine that doesn't just have positions for the Master Emerald, but all seven smaller ones as well; and Sonic... well, Sonic consistently and regularly does stuff with the chaos emeralds nobody else does. He transfers super forms to other people, or even awakens them in people who haven't done it before (as implied with Burning Blaze in Sonic Rush). And at least according to Sonic 3&K, his arrival (?) was foretold.

But Sonic... does not feel responsible about the chaos emeralds. If something's happening with them he wants to know but it's about curiosity. When the chaos emeralds are corrupted, tarnished, and lose power, Sonic... juggles them, while he's confused about his own (related) corruption. It's weird, it's concerning, but it's not an obligation. He gets distracted buying ice cream in the same scene.

By contrast, the only time Knuckles feels confident shattering the Master Emerald, it's as an obligation- he has to protect it from Eggman even if it creates more work for himself, and he later freaks out and nearly crashes the shuttle he and others are on when a near-miss scatters the master emerald pieces he's collected across the ARK. I can only imagine half of the plot of Sonic Unleashed would've given Knuckles an ulcer if he'd been around for it. You did what to the Chaos Emeralds, Sonic????

Basically, I think while freedom vs. tyranny is definitely Sonic's brand, you can have a lot more fun and shore up the thematic strength by also factoring in "responsibility" as a secondary theme and this strengthens or illuminates many characters and their arcs.

#Sonic the Hedgehog #Sonic Worlds AU #readmore

[edenmemes]

the witcher 3: wild hunt starters

including quotes from the dlcs hearts of stone & blood and wine

❝  you were always an unruly child. i adored that about you.  ❞ ❝  mmm. yes. of course. the excuse you resort to when you’d rather not talk about something.  ❞ ❝  how many have you killed? how many more might you still?  ❞ ❝  you know who i am. and why i’m here.  ❞ ❝  you're a madman and always have been. a cruel, cold-blooded killer.  ❞ ❝  a man should frame his wishes carefully. it forestalls disappointment.  ❞ ❝  no argument. you knew what you were signing up for.  ❞ ❝  maybe once, in a different time...i’d have helped.  ❞ ❝  don’t train alone, it only embeds your errors.  ❞ ❝  wanna get drunk off my ass. and it’s gotta be on cheap wine.  ❞ ❝  you’re a heartless bastard.  ❞ ❝  try to trick me anyway, anyhow, you won’t go anywhere, you know that. ‘cause i’ll take your head off right where it meets your neck.  ❞ ❝  sorry. i don’t want to talk about it. not now, at least.  ❞ ❝  we are more like a family.   we support each other and help each other survive tough moments.  ❞ ❝  so how’s it feel to be the village witch?  ❞ ❝  realize, please, that you were made for great things.  ❞ ❝  folks say a curse has fallen on that place, a dark power brought down by the bestiality of the murders it beheld.  ❞ ❝  so, now you’ve threatened me and all...are you in or are you not?  ❞ ❝  i know it must sound foolish, but in the dream - well, it was all too real...  ❞ ❝  we may not survive this. in fact, our chances are slim.  ❞ ❝  it’s always been about you. only you.  ❞ ❝  i remember finding your sense of humor both groan-worthy...and somehow endearing.  ❞ ❝  kings die, realms fall, but magic endures.  ❞ ❝  i detest banquets. vacuous conversation, food portions fit for a mouse, drinks that taste like piss...  ❞ ❝  despite what you’ve heard, i don’t lunge at every monster i see, sword in hand.  ❞ ❝  each day’s more dangerous than the last.  ❞ ❝  it’s folks like you that restore my faith in humankind.  ❞ ❝  my power lies in possessing knowledge, not sharing it.  ❞ ❝  the rotten smell brings back childhood memories.  ❞ ❝  awfully noble of you, showing so much concern for the needy.  ❞ ❝  no need to thank me. always glad to save your ass. you’re welcome.  ❞ ❝  i may be inhumanely beautiful, but i don’t have super human senses.  ❞ ❝  anyone can be made to talk, even a corpse. one must simply know how.  ❞ ❝  we’ve done the hardest part. only got the pleasant bits now.  ❞ ❝  there are few causes worth saving. even fewer men.  ❞ ❝  don’t treat me like a child.  ❞ ❝  there’s strange men lurking outside the house. watching me.  ❞ ❝  you must be careful what you wish for lest your wish be granted.    for there are consequences.  ❞ ❝  shall i be free of the suffering? the sadness?  ❞ ❝  i wish to gaze into those eyes, eyes the devil would be proud to have.  ❞ ❝  you were born with a great gift. and only you can decide how to use it.  ❞ ❝  any other words of wisdom? or can we go?  ❞ ❝  what i need is an ally. and something tells me i shall find none better than you.  ❞ ❝  i can see no row can occur here without your participation.  ❞ ❝  i and what concerns me have not been a concern of yours for some time now.  ❞ ❝  if you’d not arrived in time, things might have ended considerably worse.  ❞ ❝  if they can bleed, they can die.  ❞ ❝  a man must display some madness from time to time --- it helps him feel alive.  ❞ ❝  i was deeply troubled. you’ve no idea.  ❞ ❝  done that so many times, but...it felt like our first kiss to me.  ❞ ❝  don’t need to play tough on me.  ❞ ❝  i've lost too many mates already. i won’t risk it, i can't.  ❞ ❝  there’s just not enough of us. it’ll be a hard fight.  ❞ ❝  in lonely woods, screams carry long.  ❞ ❝  things used to be simpler.    monsters were bad, humans good.   now, everything’s all confused.  ❞ ❝  as for your missteps --- i don't rightly see why i shouldn't laugh if they're amusing..  ❞ ❝  i’ve no gold to offer you in reward...but i shall be ever so grateful.  ❞ ❝  if you’re scared, turn back. i’m gonna go on.  ❞ ❝  if anything happens, i’ll defend you.  ❞ ❝  once you say "i love you," a kiss has to taste differently.  ❞ ❝  maybe we should sit? you look a bit dazed...  ❞ ❝  drink it off, sleep it off, whatever it takes...just get yourself together and think things        through.  ❞ ❝  i shall join later, if it’s no trouble. i don’t yet feel strong enough to venture out.  ❞ ❝  awake at last. you writhed like a squirrel caught in a snare.  ❞ ❝  again you plan without even asking what i think!  ❞ ❝  come to see how i’m feelin'? thanks, not bad.  ❞ ❝  i remember that day quite well...there was a light drizzle, yet the cold tore right through you.  ❞ ❝  you gotta keep your eyes peeled wide open. someone’s taken an interest in your work.  ❞ ❝  oof...for a minute, i actually thought we were doomed.  ❞ ❝  you shouldn’t worry yourself --- it tarnishes your beauty.  ❞ ❝  i’d even embrace you...were you not covered in blood.  ❞ ❝  guess i could’ve been someone worse...just a shame i had no choice.  ❞ ❝  facts interest me. not fairytales.  ❞ ❝  hm, odd smell. blend of alcohol, blood and monster stench.  ❞ ❝  i’m old and i am wealthy. i may say what i please.  ❞ ❝  now, be so kind and leave me to my thoughts.  ❞ ❝  in your shoes i’d pack it up and go hide somewhere far away.  ❞ ❝  forgive me, but that's the blatherin' of someone who clearly can't snap out of it after a tragic loss.  ❞ ❝  that all you gotta say? i saved your life.  ❞ ❝  i swear on all that is holy: we shall be together forever.  ❞ ❝  think of me as part of the decor.  ❞ ❝  anyone who’s bold enough to fight is already a hero.  ❞ ❝  if this is a trap of some sort...  ❞ ❝  you can count on me, you know? always.  ❞ ❝  you don’t know how much it means...to have someone you can rely on in this fucking city.  ❞ ❝  i know you. you have no heart.  ❞ ❝  no room for friendship in this business.  ❞ ❝  evil is evil. lesser, greater, middling, makes no difference. the degree is arbitrary, the definitions blurred.  ❞ ❝  hands off, or i'll cut them off.  ❞ ❝  i’ll need to clear my head first. after those deranged dreams, i feel it’s full of cobwebs.  ❞ ❝  on your way? or will you stay longer? it’s far safer with you around...  ❞ ❝  really sad story, but something’s not right. got a feeling you’re not telling me everything.  ❞ ❝  gotta admit, there’s something about you. you’re...different.  ❞ ❝  with each arrow i shoot, i think of my dad. he’d be proud, i think.  ❞ ❝  i merely know when to indulge my pride, and when to swallow it.  ❞ ❝  you were born to greatness.  ❞ ❝  these’re dark, grim times. no room for knights pure of heart or happily-ever-afters.  ❞ ❝  a life without liquor’s like loving without licking.  ❞ ❝  my certainty i walk the right path grows strong as iron, firm as steel.  ❞ ❝  few make me feel awkward, but in your presence, i feel anxiety, discomfort.  ❞ ❝  some men have got good reason to fear their own shadows.  ❞ ❝  some men cannot admit defeat. some keep fighting from beyond the grave.  ❞ ❝  stare into their eyes, feast on their terror. then go in for the kill.  ❞ ❝  forget not that you are a person right and honorable, devoted to doing good.  ❞ ❝  ash shall fertilize the soil. by spring, the valley shall bloom once more.  ❞ ❝  there’s lots of wraiths here. i hear them whispering every night.  ❞ ❝  no one has the courage to face this threat! yet we must kill them, or sooner or later we will all die.  ❞ ❝  you are a step away from losing your head. speak the truth and you might yet keep it.  ❞ ❝  you carry within you the weight of a terrible tragedy. you are a good person, but lost. which is why you come across as grim.  ❞ ❝  if i understand you correctly, you would rather help a monster than kill it?  ❞ ❝  discouraged after a mere eight attempts?  ❞ ❝  easier to pat someone on the back and hope things will work out than it is to face the truth.  ❞ ❝  know that they can’t teach an old dog new tricks?  ❞ ❝  my, you’ve grown beautiful.  ❞ ❝  my swords a promise --- if i reach for it, heads will roll.  ❞ ❝  one condition: no one dies. that clear?  ❞ ❝  patience happens to be my weakness. so dispense with the dramatic pauses and talk.  ❞ ❝  you proved today you can take care of yourself.  ❞ ❝  you under the delusion you’ll complete your tasks, live happily ever after?  ❞ ❝  i will not sit and twiddle my thumbs. i'm sick of waiting, sick of hiding!  ❞ ❝  glad you know who i am. haven’t introduced yourself, though.  ❞ ❝  i’ve seen a great deal --- cruelty, cynicism, greed.  ❞ ❝  you tempt fate, because at heart you are unhappy.  ❞ ❝  we had our chance, but...let it go.  ❞ ❝  come now, you didn’t expect it to be that easy, did you?  ❞ ❝  promise me one thing --- you’ll stop risking your life for others.  ❞ ❝  instead of dwelling on the future, i’d rather live in the moment.  ❞ ❝  i adore love stories. especially the ones that end happily ever after.  ❞ ❝  we are drops of rain that together make a ferocious storm.  ❞ ❝  the path to freedom is paved in blood, not ink.  ❞ ❝  we’ll get our happy ending. one day.  ❞ ❝  i’ll never forget what you did for me...and what we had together.  ❞ ❝  don’t meddle in other people’s lives.  ❞ ❝  i don’t get attached to places. just people.  ❞ ❝  it’s dangerous, there are risks involved. understand that, don’t you?  ❞ ❝  and here i hoped someone would finally take pity on me.  ❞ ❝  seen a lot of dead in my time, but that must’ve been hard.  ❞ ❝  air is strange...like dropping into a deep cellar on a hot day...  ❞ ❝  wouldn’t carry a sword if i didn’t know how to use it.  ❞ ❝  take it you didn't summon me to reminisce about the good old days, so...  ❞ ❝  i was attacked --- had to defend myself.  ❞ ❝  guards have never stopped me, you know that.  ❞ ❝  treating the ill and wounded...it’s my calling.  ❞ ❝  you think it’s enchanted?  ❞ ❝  there are times when a woman should simply not explain her decision.  ❞ ❝  won’t find too many comforts, but try to feel at home.  ❞ ❝  i was looking for you...sometimes i thought you were just a step away. other times, i felt like i was going around in circles.  ❞ ❝  i’ll remember you. always with a smile.  ❞ ❝  i’d rather you not make anymore trouble --- for yourself, or us both.  ❞ ❝  got the stench of corpes on you.  ❞ ❝  you stood to gain --- that is why you saved me.  ❞ ❝  sages invariably have hidden agendas. altruism is simply not part of their constitution.  ❞ ❝  the gods have abandoned us. the mighty of this earth care not for our fate.  ❞ ❝  is that admiration i hear in your voice?  ❞ ❝  i started off heading in the opposite direction, but then turned around.  ❞ ❝  i’m fed up. i won’t have others deciding for me behind my back.  ❞ ❝  where’d you get this idea? what’s gotten into you?  ❞ ❝  i don't expect you to commit now. think it over, what you've heard, what you feel.  ❞ ❝  head torn clear off...takes incredible strength.  ❞ ❝  desperate fathers have been known to do a lot to find their daughters.  ❞ ❝  you cannot kill me. you know this...  ❞ ❝  "i give you my heart”? what kind of spell is that?  ❞ ❝  i’d go anywhere with you.  ❞ ❝  why? because i am a woman? in a frock, rather than plate? i can take care of myself, i assure you.  ❞ ❝  everything we discussed here, hope you’ll keep it to yourself. counting on it, in fact.  ❞ ❝  trusted you once. won’t make that mistake again.  ❞ ❝  shut up. i’ve heard enough of your bullshit. draw your weapon, let’s get this over with.  ❞ ❝  exaggerating for effect, right?  ❞ ❝  well, well...when cornered, you can bite.  ❞ ❝  you cannot win...even if you kill me.  ❞ ❝  you know i’m good at accomplishing the impossible.  ❞ ❝  it’s nothing, really. you’d have done the same for me.  ❞ ❝  you are not ready. you do not control your powers.  ❞ ❝  you’re a tool in their hands, even if you don’t see it.  ❞ ❝  i’d do anything for you, i would. you know that well.  ❞ ❝  this is a land where the fantastic is normal, and the impossible occurs daily...  ❞ ❝  know when a legend becomes a prophecy? when it gain believers.  ❞ ❝  i thought you’d become a stranger to me. that i’d look at you and not feel a thing. but it’s not like that at all. nothing’s changed.  ❞ ❝  to be honest, i just wanted to go on a walk with you.  ❞ ❝  what i really want is to be with you, to...to be together and...  ❞ ❝  this is not the kind of offer one refuses.  ❞ ❝  despair devours you like maggots devour a corpse.  ❞ ❝  before long every soul will kneel before you.  ❞ ❝  i run into dilemmas all the time. situations where it's hard to judge, hard to know what's right, make a decision. this is not one of them. you disgust me. and deserve to die.  ❞ ❝  you know me. i’m rare to praise, but when i do, it’s sincere.  ❞ ❝  i'm not a thug for hire.  ❞ ❝  i like being on adventures, sleeping under the stars, waking up with dew on my face.  ❞ ❝  the dream's within reach now. i’m not about to let it go.  ❞ ❝  unlike you, killing gives me no pleasure.  ❞ ❝  can't speak for the world you inhabit, but in mine, nothing is ever black and white.  ❞ ❝  you cannot possibly imagine how much i detest this place.  ❞ ❝  stones you’ve got. but i didn’t think you’d have the stomach for a massacre.  ❞ ❝  the dead man --- looked like a monster attacked him recently.  ❞ ❝  finish all your business before you die. bid loved ones farewell. write your will. apologize to those you’ve wronged. otherwise, you’ll never truly leave this world.  ❞ ❝  i've had nothing but nightmares lately. pretty horrible.  ❞ ❝  i was wandering through the forest, breathing deep the air, and then i heard a strange sound, unsettling.  ❞ ❝  had a few nice dreams. for example, in one we sat around a fire, drinking good wine, and all around people danced and laughed.  ❞ ❝  they’re all dead! mountains of corpses. yet here i stand alone. all alone.  ❞ ❝  this isn’t a game. men have died.  ❞ ❝  if you wanna listen, listen, if not --- i'd rather you spared me your wit and throw me out now.  ❞ ❝  you fed me, cared for me, had my wounds looked after. we're even now.  ❞ ❝  you’ll return, you shall. our fates are bound.  ❞ ❝  i’ve nothing left. not a fucking thing.  ❞ ❝  i don’t question your abilities. i simply don’t trust you.  ❞ ❝  what foolish things men sometimes do.  ❞ ❝  dare harm me, and against you will rise all the powers of nature.  ❞ ❝  did you destroy the evil powers? have you brought peace to my domain?  ❞ ❝  well, perhaps i shall tell you about it one day. one day, but not today..  ❞ ❝  times like these, you never know what tomorrow will bring.  ❞ ❝  you worry too much. what will be, will be.  ❞ ❝  have you gone completely mad? we must leave here at once!  ❞ ❝  time eats away at memories, distorts them. sometimes we only remember the good... sometimes only the bad.  ❞ ❝  you don’t need magic to strip men of their humanity. i’ve seen plenty of examples.  ❞ ❝  if i’m to choose between one evil and another, i’d rather not choose at all.  ❞ ❝  see what i’ve got on my back? wolves fear it. kings do, too.  ❞ ❝  i missed those awkward compliments of yours.  ❞ ❝  sometimes i think it’s all too lovely to be true…that something’s bound to happen, another war or some other horror.  ❞ ❝  took you a while. did you run into trouble?  ❞ ❝  i just travel a lot. and i don't always happen upon such good and civil company.  ❞ ❝  what can you know about saving the world, silly?  ❞ ❝  done my share of fighting. wouldn't carry a sword if i didn't know to use it.  ❞ ❝  all right, perhaps i wasn’t completely honest.  ❞ ❝  ever thought this day would come? me and you...peace and quiet...bees buzzing, birds chirping.  ❞ ❝  i detect a shadow of impatience in your face.  ❞ ❝  took me a long time to find you. wasn't an easy road to travel.  ❞ ❝  wipe that frown off your face, or i might think you don’t like me anymore.  ❞ ❝  always believed attack was the best defense.  ❞ ❝  once it’s all over, if we survive ... i wish to leave, go far away.   and i’d like you to come with me.  ❞ ❝  naturally, you suspect me of the worst. i don’t deserve that.  ❞ ❝  we can fight another time, in another place, where the walls have no ears.  ❞ ❝  once i was free...i shall be free once more.  ❞ ❝  believe me...a tavern, mulled wine, our boots drying by the fire --- i’d like nothing better.  ❞ ❝  prove it. kiss me.  ❞ ❝  the prophecies do not lie...you cannot survive this struggle.  ❞ ❝  i know you better than you think.  ❞ ❝  you know me. nothing i like more than breaking rules.  ❞ ❝  what’s happened? it’s so quiet, all of a sudden.  ❞ ❝  thank you, for coming with me.  ❞ ❝  i cannot do everything for you. use your head.  ❞ ❝  i'm angry and tired. had to kill a lot of people along the way.  ❞ ❝  we’ve come a long way, and i’d be damned if we’ve come to fail.  ❞ ❝  i sense your pain. i see your fear.  ❞ ❝  how’s this for an answer: kiss my ass.  ❞ ❝  how many have you already killed? how many more might you still?  ❞ ❝  i'm quite alive and extraordinarily well. better than i've ever been in this rotten life of mine.  ❞ ❝  i like it when you smile. come here. everything will be all right.  ❞ ❝  ugh. don’t fall in love with me.  ❞ ❝  i don’t like you. in fact, i feel like slapping you.  ❞ ❝  i'm too old to play the blushing bride...unless you ask nicely.  ❞ ❝  that bit of my life --- forgotten it already.  ❞ ❝  the world doesn’t need a hero. it needs a professional.  ❞ ❝  next time you wonder why i’m so bitter...well, there's your answer.  ❞ ❝  nothing wrong with having a drink in good company.  ❞ ❝  i want you behind those rocks. and keep your mouth shut.  ❞ ❝  nice of you to worry...but i've made my decision, and i won't change it.  ❞ ❝  this is my story, not yours. you must let me finish telling it.  ❞ ❝  after all that toil, i believe we deserve a bit of a rest.  ❞ ❝  i was afraid you were dead.  ❞ ❝  we’ve all some stain on our conscience.  ❞ ❝  leaving the castle walls means certain death.  ❞ ❝  right good jest. had us a laugh. now fuck off.  ❞ ❝  i’ve heard about you. you bring trouble, or thus far have, always.  ❞ ❝  ah, you’ve struck a raw nerve.    memories of a time long past to which i’d rather not return now.  ❞ ❝  we meet again. and it seems you need my help. again.  ❞ ❝  got a relative i can talk to? someone - how do i say this - a smidgen less irritating?  ❞ ❝  miss the target, you owe me fifty push-ups. hit it, you owe me twenty.  ❞ ❝  oh. serious talk coming.  ❞ ❝  i feel like one more lie'd be the last bitter drop in a chalice full of sorrow.  ❞ ❝  romantic? thought we came here as friends.  ❞ ❝  you’re hiding something. and that’s one thing i can’t stand.  ❞ ❝  tell me, how do you do it? always manage to pull yourself together, focus, no matter what’s happening?  ❞ ❝  i go wherever i please, whenever i please.  ❞ ❝  uh oh. i know that look.  ❞ ❝  sounds tempting. so tempting i don’t think i can refuse.  ❞ ❝  so, what do you say to a moonlight ride on horseback...and dinner?  ❞ ❝  perhaps...perhaps you’d stay just a bit longer?  ❞ ❝  how are you feeling? sleep well?  ❞ ❝  such a gloomy subject to broach...  simply shouldn’t have.  ❞

❝  such a gloomy subject to broach...i simply shouldn’t have --- not during our romantic dinner.  ❞ ❝  got it. a bit of blackmail --- just your style.  ❞ ❝  it’s the crack of dawn. where do you wanna go?  ❞ ❝  shut up before you wake someone. last thing we need is a crowd.  ❞ ❝  watch what you say. the trees have ears.  ❞ ❝  no bow at hand, no spear. my sword was all i had.  ❞ ❝  never expected you’d take such an interest in my private life.  ❞ ❝  i’m special. always was the rare beauty.  ❞ ❝  damn. been ages since we last saw each other.  ❞ ❝  some charming orchards nearby. in bloom, even, so you almost can't smell the corpses.  ❞ ❝  you know me. nothing i like more than breaking rules.  ❞ ❝  man spends his whole life learning.  ❞ ❝  if only i was as skilled with my words as i am with my blade.  ❞ ❝  i wished to know what was going on in that head of yours. i thought perhaps i could help.  ❞ ❝  i can tell something’s bothering you.  ❞ ❝  dangerous times. each thinks five times before sticking their neck out.   and i can’t blame them.  ❞ ❝  now i care not in the slightest how you think or feel.  ❞ ❝  i no longer know if i still hate you.  ❞ ��  i see how you look at me, and i see you wither.  ❞ ❝  one last bit of advice --- find a new tavern. everyone here knows you.  ❞ ❝  you won. no point bothering with ‘what ifs’.  ❞ ❝  it’s time i took fate into my own hands. lived life anew...and truly, this time.  ❞ ❝  ahh, 'cause you thought you'd killed me that time. surprise, sur-fucking-prise.  ❞ ❝  who...who’s that? gods, i’m hallucinating.  ❞ ❝  it’s no exaggeration to say i’ve never met a warrior like you in my life. you’re lithe as an eel and strong as a bear.  ❞ ❝  i’ve a heart again, yet all it feels is grief, sadness and defeat. my life is a ruin.  ❞ ❝  sought only to protect myself. in doing so, i put you in harm’s way. forgive me.  ❞ ❝  there’s a charming grove nearby where  kisses  taste  sweeter than anywhere else in the world.  ❞ ❝  you’ve handled tougher situations. you’ll figure this one out.  ❞ ❝  who you are and why you’ve come matter little. for you’ll not leave this place alive.  ❞ ❝  i’m not panicking. just trying to be realistic.  ❞ ❝  hahahahaha...i can’t believe you fell for that!  ❞ ❝  i was actually going to recite an anthem praising your glory, but if you’re not in the mood...  ❞ ❝  lying didn’t always come so easily to you.  ❞ ❝  everyone wants to rule. i can do that better than any monarch.  ❞ ❝  tell me what you want already, and make it quick.  ❞ ❝  what a mess we made of it all...if i’d only known then how it would end...  ❞ ❝  seems a faded dream now, but there were a time where i was happy.  ❞ ❝  why’d you leave me? you claimed you loved me.  ❞ ❝  never liked boats. not one bit.  ❞ ❝  you must be mad. i’ve no intention to make things easier for you.  ❞ ❝  i don’t wish to look at your face any longer than i must.  ❞ ❝  please, no. i can’t stand spells.  ❞ ❝  we agreed not to keep any secrets from one another. we promised.  ❞ ❝  that i like! a man who boldly dares, damn the risks!  ❞ ❝  i thought you bowed before no man.  ❞ ❝  smile a bit wider. ...you were meant to smile, not bare your teeth.  ❞ ❝  is that blood? have you hurt yourself?  ❞ ❝  no reason to trouble the guards. i’ll go willingly.  ❞ ❝  look at me. promise you’ll stay out of it.  ❞ ❝  the minute we’re in trouble, you make me responsible for getting us out.  ❞ ❝  they say they don’t fear the wrath of the gods. and you, do you fear it?  ❞ ❝  i’ll let that pass. i know grief eats at your heart.  ❞ ❝  we all lie sometimes. but lying to yourself is running away, whereas there’s really nowhere to run.  ❞ ❝  don’t need your sympathy, just your help.  ❞ ❝  your loss -- it must hurt, bad. but there wasn't anything we could do.  ❞ ❝  i wish to leave, go far away. and i’d like you to come with me.  ❞ ❝  i trust you have an explanation for this. a very good one.  ❞ ❝  lot of bitterness in you.  ❞ ❝  i assure you, you’re excellent at covering your tracks --- though not terribly subtle. but i’m even better at uncovering them.  ❞ ❝  glad to see you happy...but i don’t think what we did was right.  ❞ ❝  i look at you, and...and feel like i am exactly where i am supposed to be. at long last.  ❞ ❝  i’m no coward. i'll not run this time.  ❞ ❝  yes, i know you’ve trained with swords. but you’re still shit with them.  ❞ ❝  how many innocents have you cut down?  ❞ ❝  problem is, you’re not ordinary. you were born to greatness.  ❞ ❝  not too late to surrender.  ❞ ❝  men turn honest when they feel a blade at their throat.  ❞ ❝  i'm not gonna drink. why dull my senses when i’m in such pleasant company?  ❞ ❝  it’s bound to come in handy, and each time it does, you’ll think of me.  ❞ ❝  lie still or you will bleed to death.  ❞ ❝  your life is yours, exclusively. you choose who you are.  ❞ ❝  for a minute there, was almost sure you’d leave me to die.  ❞ ❝  there is never a second opportunity to make a first impression.  ❞ ❝  it’s all because of that secretiveness of yours.  ❞ ❝  plead the gods spare us, for without their favor we shall most certainly perish.  ❞ ❝  i must say -- seen a lot, but nothing like this, never.  ❞ ❝  you don’t look like you can get home on your own. i’ll walk you.  ❞ ❝  all’s in the past, never to be restored.  ❞ ❝  you know full well i never hold a grudge. i forgive you.  ❞ ❝  the good gods sent you to me.  ❞ ❝  and the guilt, the responsibility of all this, lies with me.  ❞ ❝  you’ve only been here five minutes, and you’ve already managed to offend me twice.  ❞ ❝  you will certainly fetch me a higher bounty alive.  ❞ ❝  what's wrong with my beard? always thought it added to my dignity.  ❞ ❝  if i’m to die today, i wish to look smashing for the occasion.  ❞ ❝  i was stupid. stupidity costs a lot.  ❞ ❝  even your humblest requests seem like threats.  ❞ ❝  your motives do not interest me. only results.  ❞ ❝  and you laughed, oh, how sweetly, how brightly you laughed!  ❞ ❝  you don’t know how it is. to see someone you love die. because of you, for you.  ❞ ❝  to have a scapegoat --- that’s the key.  ❞ ❝  no need to fear me.  ❞ ❝  sorry, but -- your life story? just not interested.  ❞ ❝  with you...it was love at first sight.  ❞ ❝  gotta understand. you don’t betray people like me.  ❞ ❝  i struggled long to find a place where i’d feel safe, needed. until i finally arrived here.  ❞ ❝  just don’t faint on me.  ❞ ❝  could never be there for you everyday. but i’m happy to see you always. and today, i’m all yours.  ❞ ❝  what others think...your image...that’s all you care about.  ❞ ❝  in these foul times one must be wary, even of their friends.  ❞ ❝  come on, don’t get angry - it’s not good for you..  ❞ ❝  so, apart from the sword play, you know potions and all that?  ❞ ❝  i actually envy your sense of wonder --- common in children, and morons.  ❞ ❝  a lot of misfortune for a small village.  ❞ ❝  who are you? do you seek to hurt me as well?  ❞ ❝  the hand that feeds can also strike its wayward wards.  ❞ ❝  shh. eat now. we’ll speak once you’ve rested.  ❞ ❝  brother has turned against brother, the land is soaked in blood. evil reigns stronger than ever before.  ❞ ❝  good looking and clever. where’ve you been hiding?  ❞ ❝  doesn’t bother you, having monsters for neighbours?  ❞ ❝  stay here --- no matter what happens.  ❞ ❝  i never told you this, but i’ve always felt it: i love you.  ❞ ❝  listen to me this once -- don't take matters into your own hands.  ❞ ❝  love these moments. the air before a battle -- nothing smells as sweet.  ❞ ❝  they tried to get in through the main gate. i’m afraid they could succeed next time.  ❞ ❝  too many claim you’re evil.  ❞ ❝  why are you so eager to help strangers? sit your ass down or there’ll be misfortune.  ❞ ❝  you'd never have managed without me, would you? come, now, admit it.  ❞ ❝  for those who remain, death should never take precedence over life.  ❞ ❝  thanks for coming. thanks for risking your life for me.  ❞ ❝  don’t force me to speak of it. no more, please.  ❞ ❝  when doubt plagues your mind, follow your instincts. should they steer you wrong and land you in muck, you'll land at peace with yourself. and that's most important.  ❞ ❝   just know that i know you're here. one misstep, one error...you'll make a mistake, it's inevitable...i'll be the first to learn it.  ❞ ❝  i do not know you. i’ve done you no harm.  ❞ ❝  try not to panic...just doesn’t suit you.  ❞ ❝  we’ve come a long way, and i’ll be damned if we’ve come to fail.  ❞ ❝  had i known what would happen here, i'd never have come.  ❞ ❝  i can say i’ve seen it all now.  ❞ ❝  these scars have long yearned for your tender caress.  ❞ ❝  i don’t fall victim to curses. i cast them.  ❞ ❝  come outside. we can hold hands and stare at the sky.  ❞ ❝  we’ll work well together --- i can see that already.  ❞ ❝  from the first moment i set eyes upon you that fateful evening, my heart has only beaten for you.  ❞ ❝  i trust you as much as you trust me --- not at all.  ❞ ❝  you’ve gone all red in the face just for talking about it.  ❞ ❝  wake up. it’s just a dream. wake up!  ❞ ❝  i still don’t believe everything that happened.  ❞ ❝  i never miss twice.  ❞ ❝  bit too old to believe in bedtime stories, aren’t you?  ❞ ❝  you humans have...unusual tastes.  ❞ ❝  didn’t think it worthwhile to tell me, warn me of your plans?  ❞ ❝  i think you will not attack one unarmed.  ❞ ❝  the deeper i get into this, the more i gotta wonder...why’re you even helping me?  ❞ ❝  to live in peace, we first must kill.  ❞ ❝  at times fate muddles our path, and life turns toilsome, hard to bear.  ❞ ❝  i fight for whoever’s paying the best. or whoever’s easier to rob.  ❞ ❝  do not let my beauty distract your aim.  ❞ ❝  i’ve seen what is to come, i know destruction approaches.  ❞ ❝  the war awoke an ancient power. an evil one that feeds on bloodshed.  ❞ ❝  guess you’re no stranger to fury, either.  ❞ ❝  think i’m gonna fall for that? no chance, you’re wrong.  ❞ ❝  gotta admit --- you do pretty well with a sword.  ❞ ❝  you dare tell me to calm down?! you?!  ❞ ❝  let's say i go about my business, and when there's coin to be earned, i don't readily turn it down.  ❞ ❝  i wish to know the truth...be it sweet, be it painful, i wish to know.  ❞ ❝  men, the polite ones at least, would call me a monster.  ❞ ❝  even i grow ill at the sight of you.  ❞ ❝  i’m going on a walk. or is that not allowed either? because i could break my leg?  ❞ ❝  plan’s crazier than it is sane...but there’s an irrestistible charm to it.  ❞ ❝  unbelievable! you said something romantic! you!  ❞ ❝  we may not survive this. in fact, our chances are slim.  ❞ ❝  if anything should happen to you...  ❞ ❝  there’s not been a dark cloud yet that didn’t have a silver lining.  ❞ ❝  those are some fresh lookin’ scars you’ve got there.  ❞ ❝  no. no more about the battle. just hold me. and say something nice.  ❞ ❝  stay. this is the only home we’ve ever had.  ❞ ❝  you’re so charming when you try to be funny.  ❞ ❝  not proud of it...yet i considered all the options and found none better.  ❞ ❝  i look far different from when you last saw me.  ❞ ❝  i admire your optimism. wish i shared it.  ❞ ❝  and...try not to draw any attention to yourself.  ❞ ❝  nightmares haunt our nights and days. folk sleepwalk from their homes, never to return.  ❞ ❝  forgive me. it couldn’t be avoided. i truly am sorry.  ❞ ❝  well i’ve departed, escaped, been forced to flee so many times…yet i always returned. you ought to be used to it by now.  ❞ ❝  the human mind is as wild and unexplored a place as any land far beyond the sea.  ❞ ❝  you think you’ve won. you are wrong. i can’t die.  ❞ ❝  you’re something more. something more.  ❞ ❝  barely nicked me, i’ll be fine.  ❞ ❝  it’s just that i felt...stifled, in your shadow. i’d have suffocated had i stayed.  ❞ ❝  come, don’t just stand there. i want a hug.  ❞ ❝  it’s lovely here! i could stay forever.  ❞ ❝  do what you will, but leave me out of this.  ❞ ❝  we should end this discussion -- before i say something i'll regret.  ❞ ❝  you all right? you’re as pale as death.  ❞ ❝  let’s get back to the hut. i’ll protect you along the way.  ❞ ❝  not to keen on talking about it, are you?  ❞ ❝  it’s better to die than to live in the knowledge that you’ve done something that needs forgiveness.  ❞ ❝  i was afraid you were dead.  ❞ ❝  at times one must use reason, rather than blades.  ❞ ❝  need some peace. gotta prepare.  ❞ ❝  i suspected it might not be the best idea, but i was desperate, had no choice.  ❞ ❝  so tell me how it happened. step by step.  ❞ ❝  it was a bit of a lark, a jest. i meant to bring it all back, i swear.  ❞ ❝  if i wanted to kill you, you'd be long dead by now.  ❞ ❝  that is precisely one of the reasons why i abhor your world.    your senseless brutality.  ❞ ❝  i won’t let them take you, you know that?  ❞ ❝  magic...childish hocus-pocus. it’s just not interesting. what i find fascinating are true tales of true human lives.  ❞ ❝  save your praise for others. i couldn’t give a shit.  ❞ ❝  well, well, i am impressed. doubted you still had it in you, frankly.  ❞ ❝  i like you. don’t make me hurt you.  ❞ ❝  you know very little can hurt you being immortal, so you take wild risks, chase extreme sensations. there comes a point you’ve done it all, and all seems boring and monotonous.  ❞ ❝  with you i finally feel...harmony. a calm. feel like things are the way they're supposed to be.  ❞ ❝  i'm afraid the dishwater’s as good as it gets in this establishment.  ❞ ❝  sorry to take so long, but i had to deal with the guards.  ❞ ❝  i’d never miss a chance to spend a pleasant evening with you.  ❞ ❝  you know too much. yet one more reason why you must die.  ❞ ❝  or perhaps you seek to trick me.  ❞ ❝  if you acknowledge any gods...start praying, now.  ❞ ❝  it’s very simple. you either deceived me...or not.  ❞ ❝  i am known neither for my sense of humor nor for my patience.  ❞ ❝  naturally, it would be easier with your help, but...you irritate me.  ❞ ❝  love questions like that. am i holding up? what, my dick?  ❞ ❝  we never hunt in these woods. not even if it means the whole village starves.  ❞ ❝  we’re only ever the ones to know the truth about ourselves.  ❞ ❝  you’re insolent because you believe i cannot afford to hurt you. and you’re right.  ❞ ❝  i detest graveyards, especially wandering them alone.  ❞ ❝  you know too much. you impede me too often. and i find your arrogance an annoyance.  ❞ ❝  i know it’s wartime, but try not to be a hero, all right?  ❞ ❝  i don’t know that i’ll make for engaging company. in truth, i rarely talk to men.  ❞ ❝  you know...had a dream about you recently.  ❞ ❝  i thought i could at least count on you to treat me seriously.  ❞ ❝  don’t ask questions you know the answers to. it makes you look stupid.  ❞ ❝  you’re nosy. starting to piss me off, you know?  ❞ ❝  what did i do to deserve this? have i given you cause to doubt my intentions?  ❞ ❝  don’t fret about me. i always get by somehow, right?  ❞ ❝  i wanted to go with you --- that was my idea.  ❞ ❝  i shan’t stray a step from your side.  ❞ ❝  if that’s what it takes to save the world, it’s better to let that world die.  ❞ ❝  what’s that supposed to mean? that a threat?  ❞ ❝  i’m offering a great and true adventure, an experience like no other, the fate of only the chosen few.  ❞ ❝  that’s like choosing between pestilence and the plague.  ❞ ❝  what’s it matter? i only ever thought of you.  ❞ ❝  did you know you’ve gained twenty-seven new scars since we’ve last saw each other?  ❞ ❝  i need to know the details if you want me to get my hands dirty.  ❞ ❝  don’t know you. go away.  ❞ ❝  ever vigilant, even in your sleep. quite vampire-like, in fact.  ❞ ❝  gotten used to people treating me like a freak, an outcast.  ❞ ❝  we share a cause, then. just like the old days.  ❞ ❝  ever considered becoming a burglar? skill like that’d come in awful handy.  ❞ ❝  there’s never been a frown that couldn’t be turned upside down.  ❞ ❝  honesty's an attribute of the truly brave --- and thus the privilege of the very few.  ❞ ❝  you do not have a monopoly in altruism, my friend.  ❞ ❝  great love demands great sacrifices.  ❞ ❝  i believe it wise at times to share one’s secrets, unburden oneself to those one can trust.  ❞ ❝  it would be nice from time to time if you could sit back and enjoy life, instead of going around solving everyone’s problems.  ❞ ❝  we shall dance until the break of dawn!  ❞ ❝  a man could lose his head for a lass like you.  ❞ ❝  don’t have to come if you don’t want. wait here.  ❞ ❝  never seen this side of you.  ❞ ❝  i’m to kiss the ground you walk on, is that it? but you just did your duty.  ❞ ❝  the day you give me a smile...that moment, that’s what i’m waiting for.  ❞ ❝  i need a soul intelligent and clever, an individual who fears no dare. someone like you.  ❞ ❝  if i was you i’d catch some shut-eye, not go on flapping my tongue.  ❞ ❝  the plan is simple...which does not mean it will be easy to execute.  ❞ ❝  sometimes you really get on my nerves, you know.  ❞ ❝  you shall not turn on me, use what i say against me? you shall not tell anyone?  ❞ ❝  gave you a chance. should’ve taken it.  ❞ ❝  always better to do a bit more and even gain nothing by it,    than to do too little and face regret.  ❞ ❝  it’s lovely out here. the birds singing, the bees buzzing...blissful, really.  ❞ ❝  what a lovely dress. the color suits you exquisitely.  ❞ ❝  pretty fantastic tale. hard as hell to believe.  ❞ ❝  it’s time you discovered my romantic side.  ❞ ❝  you gotta understand the whole world doesn’t revolve around you.  ❞ ❝  can you not see i am out of my mind with worry?  ❞ ❝  every rose has its thorn, and there are no happy endings.  ❞ ❝  pretty quick to reject help. why is that?  ❞ ❝  don’t need to like each other. just gotta do our jobs.  ❞ ❝  frankly, if i can do something for you, i'll do it, willingly.  ❞ ❝  you were hired you kill me, were you not?  ❞ ❝  what’s it like, going toe to toe with a monster? knowing you’ve only two options --- to kill or be killed?  ❞ ❝  this place --- there’s evil here. death hangs in the air.  ❞ ❝  intellect counts as much as strength.  ❞ ❝  i run back inside, hasp the doors, and then i hear it --- someone whispering my name.  ❞ ❝  you know i like you. unlike the rest of this lot, you’ve got a good head on your shoulders.  ❞ ❝  if you love somebody, set them free.  ❞ ❝  if you hate me so deeply, why don’t you tell me to my face?  ❞ ❝  i’m afraid you’d not realize which way the wind was blowing if you pissed straight into it.  ❞ ❝  that was courageous. i'd never expect it from you.  ❞ ❝  i am not easily impressed, but i must admit you have succeeded, my dear.  ❞ ❝  kill me if you must. i’ve nothing to live for anyway.  ❞ ❝  aren’t you an extraordinary beauty.  ❞ ❝  never suspected you believed such things.  ❞ ❝  wait...you want to go with me? out of the question.  ❞ ❝  used to it. not the first time i’ve been hunted.  ❞ ❝  enough of this hesitation, this fretting, these feelings of guilt!  ❞ ❝  strange working with you. strange, but great.  ❞ ❝  give me a moment. i must don something more appropiate and concealing.  ❞ ❝  killing comes as naturally to me as blowing my nose.  ❞ ❝  ......   another tale of a life compromised and ultimately claimed by greed and ambition.  ❞ ❝  in the future, though, remember this --- i can look after myself  ❞ ❝  you'd really worry about me if i went on alone?  ❞ ❝  you have many merits. you merely hide them from the world very diligently.  ❞ ❝  is it true virtue always trumps villainy?  ❞ ❝  watch my movements. i’m spry as a cat and sly as a fox.  ❞ ❝  ah, if only this could last forever.  ❞ ❝  few i can rely on like i can on you. kinda hoping you think the same of me.  ❞ ❝  you are angry at the whole world. you feel inferior, feel pain, though you mask this with confidence, arrogance, even.  ❞ ❝  there exist worries for which there quite simply is no other medicine.  ❞ ❝  your bones look thin, your breathing’s wheezy. afraid one punch might kill you.  ❞ ❝  to love is to build a house of cards, or play a game of chess, but one word or ill-thought move and you must start it all afresh.  ❞ ❝  i’m doing what i ever wanted to do, being who i wanted to be. i believe that’s one definition of happiness.  ❞ ❝  you’ve not an ounce of refinement in you, have you?  ❞ ❝  pain rules the body, but fear is born in the heart.  ❞ ❝  either i get burned, or i’ll burn all else down. no other options.  ❞ ❝  should you decide your sword is the sole solution, i shall not stand in your way.  ❞ ❝  c’mon, come closer.  ❞ ❝  would you prefer i treated you like the lying manipulater you are?  ❞ ❝  i regret nothing. one lives but once.  ❞ ❝  i just hope this tale has a happy ending. for me, for you. for everyone.  ❞ ❝  just gonna go our seperate ways? no parting words?  ❞ ❝  you still stand to be quite useful to me.  ❞ ❝  i suppose you wanted to frighten me...alas, you didn’t in the least. after all, i’m a monster too, am i not?  ❞ ❝  i trust no one. learned that long ago.  ❞ ❝  it cannot be! you actually have a sense of humor.  ❞ ❝  didn’t ask for a lecture on probability. need a simple answer --- yes or no.  ❞ ❝  another word, and i shall spill even more blood. yours.  ❞ ❝  you feel resentment, i understand, but we shall work through all the unfortunate matters of the past.  ❞ ❝  stop playing dumb. i know everything...your plan.  ❞ ❝  honestly can’t see what all those dames see in you --- you’re a stick in the mud.  ❞ ❝  not showy, lovely location...perfect for romantic getaways.  ❞ ❝  i hope you’re not upset i came like this, without warning...  ❞ ❝  i’m still a long way from mastering anything. but i am trying.  ❞ ❝  now i know how you do it. just annoy your opponents to death.  ❞ ❝  word on the street is there’s a hefty bounty on your head.  ❞ ❝  for a few days now i’ve been having dizzy spells.  ❞ ❝  i’ve always had a way with ostensibly dangerous types.  ❞ ❝  wound doesn’t look good.    patch that up quick if i were you, before it starts festering.  ❞ ❝  always seemed to me you were a very complicated creature, by nature. not one to resort to such simple methods like drinking your worries away.  ❞ ❝  may i be honest? yes, i’m nervous. i really would prefer to just run off.  ❞ ❝  father always said a wise man learns from others’ mistakes, so here i am, learning from his.  ❞ ❝  ever since that horrid night...everything has changed.  ❞ ❝  what’s wrong? afraid? gut feeling queasy?  ❞ ❝  used to bother me, all your secrets...now i know if you have something to tell me, you’ll tell me.  ❞ ❝  i so don’t feel like going anywhere. sit here a while longer?  ❞ ❝  there’s something i’d like to know...how can you be so damned calm?  ❞ ❝  my knees quake like a carnival rattle.  ❞ ❝  honestly didn’t think this’d work. doubted anything would happen.  ❞

#roleplay starters #roleplay meme #long post for ts /

[an-ambivalent]

WARNING:  This post contains yandere themes (unhealthy relationships and mentions of dubcon) and mentions of other toxic behaviours and sensitive issues (such as abortion) that can be triggering and uncomfortable to read. So, read at your own risk. This work is purely fiction. I do not condone this toxic behaviour irl. 

Fandom: Naruto

Pairing: Sasuke x Reader | Itachi x Reader   

Status: Headcanons, requested. 

Ask:  Can I request hc for Yan Naruto, Sasuke and Itachi having their first son with their darling? Would it change the way you treat your darling at all? What would your relationship with your son be like? 

Thoughts, head not empty: Weirdly, I don’t see Yandere Sasuke wanting any kids to be frank. He’s more on the selfish and possessive side and would want to keep you to himself. But at the same time, Sasuke is a versatile yandere. He has the potential to be a manipulative asshole,  clingy and possessive, or all of these. Assumingly, from the different fanfictions I’ve read, people do / did have this notion that Sasuke would have many children to “restore” his clan and etc. But I just think that given his background and personality (such a lone wolf), he would probably just keep his s/o around and not care about anyone else. 

This is just a bit irrelevant to this ask, but for my own want to do a bit comparison. For the Uchiha clan, characters I believe would have kids with their s/o would be: Madara (this bloke has a huge breeding kink and you can’t convince me otherwise), Shisui, Obito, Izuna, and maybe Itachi. I think with Itachi and Shisui they would probably just one or two child/ren and no more. Madara and Izuna, given the era they grow in and the family they, themselves are from, might want a big family. Obito is a huge simp so I can see him wanting a big family too. 

Anyway, on to the ask: 

Sasuke 

Headcanons

~He is more of the type to use his son as leverage over you in order to keep you in check. If you come to care about your child and have a rebellious streak with him, then he finally has something he can use to make you more obedient to him.

~It would not be evident because other than what he wants with you, Sasuke is a subtle person. He is not outright affectionate or susceptible to being too emotionally attached. Therefore, it would take a long time but eventually, he would come to care for his child in his own way. Especially considering that your son is proof of your love and the living evidence that you belong to him. Additionally, having your son did make you more submissive so he is appreciative of that.

~He won’t be too involved in his son’s life. Given that’s how Fugaku was like that with him (and more focused on Itachi) that would be mirrored in Sasuke’s parenting, particularly when he didn’t care about the child being born that much anyway. As long as his son doesn’t do anything to tarnish your relationship and his image, he can do whatever.

~In the instance your son, when older, tries to protect you from him and etc, there will be two things: he will either kill him or take him away from you and under his wing. Train him to be a shinobi like himself, and actually brainwash them into becoming his tool to watch over you in his place when he’s not there.

Would it change the way he treat his darling?

Yes. Like I said, his son will be become a leverage against his you so in the way he has something he can manipulate you with. Also, Sasuke is possessive. So to keep your son alive, you better not prioritize him over Sasuke. Sasuke should still be your priority, and all the duties you have to fulfill for him cannot be excused. He doesn’t care about the child. You choose to keep it so while he will help you, you can’t that as a reason to spend less time with him. And once the baby is born, its like you’re dealing with two kids because you need to give Sasuke the time he requires from you and anything with the baby comes second.  

What would the darling’s relationship with their son be like?

Sasuke’s son, again, in my opinion be a mirror of his childhood self prior to the annihilation of the Uchiha clan. Happy go lucky, and a cute little mama’s boy. Your son will love you because if you choose to have him, it evidently means you love him a lot. He’ll probably be one of the only things in your life left that you have because you choose to and not because Sasuke forced you to. So, for the reason to love him and have him give that back to you. Of course when he is old enough, he will question you, his sweet mummy about the dark bruising on your skin and why papa doesn’t love him like you do, and why papa glares at you if you end up spending too much time with him. And the only thing you can do is hold your sweet innocent little boy tightly.  

Itachi

Headcanons

~Similar to Sasuke, a child with Itachi is not planned. It’s something that just ended up happening because he’s more than happy to just have you by his side. But unlike Sasuke, you conceiving his child is not something he is against. If you are more on the rebellious side and he sees that you come to care for his child, then the more manipulative and sadistic part of him is not against threatening to hurt your son to make you more obedient. However, if that was the case, Itachi wouldn’t actually hurt or kill his child. He will use genjutsu, showing you vivid imagery of violence of what he could do, to make you submit. And we all know what a great illusionist he is so there is no way that would not work. Additionally, the chances of this scenario are almost non-existent though because he would be too good in mind-breaking you and getting you to return his love at an early stage.

~Itachi would know you’re pregnant with his child before you’d know. And in case you don’t want his child and try to get rid off it, he won’t let you.

~Itachi would be a loving father. He will fall in love with his child, no matter the gender, the moment you know you’re pregnant because that’s a life; that’s a life him and you have created together and nothing else would declare your shared love for each other to the world than your child.

~Itachi will be involved with his son’s childhood. He will train him in the ninja arts asap and make him an exceptional prodigy like he was so other than him, your son is also there to protect you.

Would it change the way he treat his darling?

Not really. If you’re a good girl then he’s good to you before your son, and he will be good to you after. He loves deeply so may be after you have his son, he might come to love you more. After your son that’s like him, he might be tempted to want another kid, but this time, a daughter who’s like you.

What would the darling’s relationship with their son be like?

Your son is influenced by his papa a lot so he will love you a lot. In the situation when you didn’t want Itachi’s child, Itachi would make sure to communicate his expectations of you clearly: you need to be a loving and nurturing to his son or else he will kill your loved ones. So whether it be by choice, or against your will, your son will see you as the best mother because you will be required to be nurturing towards him and raise him with lots of love.

#yandere naruto #yandere x reader #sasuke x reader #uchiha x reader #yandere itachi #itachi x reader #yandere sasuke #naruto x reader #naruto headcanons #yandere imagines #naruto imagines #yandere uchiha #akatsuki x reader #yandere akatsuki #naruto scenarios #ambivalent writes

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

“What was the thought process?!”

“I don’t know any more than you do, Shaw!  The Quiet Council put this mission together!”  Somehow, even when they should have been commiserating, Sebastian managed to make his complaints sound like accusations. Well, absolutely no damn part of this was Pyro’s fault.

“Of course, that pack of simpletons can’t be bothered to do things properly.  It wouldn’t matter if it was just you, but I will not be treated like a cheap lackey.”  

“Will you kindly shut the fuck up for five minutes, Shaw?”  Pyro demanded, looking at the map.  Sebastian, for all his complaints, had not deigned to take charge of it since they’d come through the gate 30 minutes ago.  “There’s the mountain.  Our contact should be somewhere around here.”

The mountain loomed dark and ominous over the grassland, with an actual black cloud obscuring its peak, like something out of a cartoon.  There was obviously something nasty up there that needed to be dealt with.  Strange dark tendrils curled down the rocky cliffs, and there were reports of eerie wailing at night.  It wouldn’t be Krakoa’s problem, except there was a mutant living nearby who refused to relocate to the safety of the island.  So they either had to deal with the problem, or convince the mutant to move out of harm’s way.

Except the mutant in question was nowhere to be found.  Just peaceful grassland as far as the eye could see, with the mountain swelling up from the landscape like an ugly blackhead.  Off in the distance, Pyro could see a group of horses grazing contentedly.  

“Our contact couldn’t be bothered to meet us at the gate.  We should have just turned around and gone home.  I don’t know why Krakoa should lift a finger for a mutant that refuses to come to us.  He chooses to remain on the outside, he should accept the responsibilities of – “

“Hey, fellas!”  A shout interrupted Shaw’s rant.

Striding up to them was the most heart-breakingly beautiful young man that Pyro had ever seen. White-blond hair, perfectly formed features, and obvious muscles bulging under his flannel shirt, he looked like he’d strode right off the cover of one of Pyro’s own novels.  Usually Pyro preferred his men a little more rugged-looking, like Dominic’s wonderfully rough features, but he was suddenly fantasizing about this young man emerging from a lake in a see-through white shirt.

Oh shit, what if he was a telepath?  What if he was yet another Frost sibling?  Pyro shoved the image out of his mind, and thought very hard about a Youtube video he’d seen earlier of a penguin falling over.

“I suppose you’re the contact?”  Sebastian demanded.  He was walking right up to Eros-given-mortal-form while Pyro stood transfixed, and it was like watching an ogre charge an elf.  Pyro had to fight the urge to leap between them and drive the beast back with a flaming sword.  He ran a hand through his hair, trying to inconspicuously smooth it down.

Fucking hell, Allerdyce, get ahold of yourself.  Shaw will never let you live it down.

“That’s right,” said the cup-bearer Ganymede, who would surely be carried off by Zeus soon.  Even his voice was beautiful, his Southern accent giving his words a musical lilt.  “Sorry I wasn’t right there at that big funny-lookin’ gate, I got worried about the herd.  Whatever’s up there is bad news.  I’d check it out myself, but I don’t want to leave the horses.  Who’d take care of them if something happened to me?”

“Yes, yes, of course you have a noble reason for cowardice,” Sebastian said, waving a hand dismissively.

“And anyway, it’s our job, that’s why we’re here,” said Pyro, stepping forward.  He realized that he had put himself just slightly between Shaw and Paris of Troy.  “We’ll get it all sorted out for ya,” he added, giving the young man a friendly smack on the shoulder.

“Well, that’s a doozy of an accent, isn’t it?  Where you from, England?”  Thankfully Prince Charming had missed, or chosen to ignore Sebastian’s completely unecessary dig.

“Australia, actually,” Sebastian interjected before Pyro could speak.  “And I imagine you’ve greatly offended Allerdyce’s national pride by mixing the two up.”

“Shucks, I’m sorry – “

“Oh, no!” Pyro exclaimed. “Not at all.  Very similar accents, easy to mistake.”  

“You’re the ones who say g’day, right?  Like Crocodile Dundee!”

“Yes, exactly!” Pyro beamed. He’d started bar fights over being called Crocodile Dundee.  Or being called British.  Sebastian raised an eyebrow at him.  

“I’m Pyro, by the way, and Oscar the Grouch over there is Sebastian Shaw.  You don’t have to be nice to him.”  He shook the young man’s hand.    

“Anyway, I’m your ride,” the Adonis said,with a shy smile.  “I can get you up to the top of that mountain, lickety-split.”

“Oh, teleporter, are ya? That’s right handy,” Pyro said.

“Or he could be a speedster, let’s not jump to conclusions, Allerdyce,” Sebastian put in.

“No, it’s something a bit different than that,” said the divine creature carved from marble and bathed in Apollo’s fire.  He shifted suddenly, his torso stretching and changing in a way that reminded Pyro of Mystique.  And then there was a winged centaur standing in front of them, and Pyro wondered if he’d fallen into Narnia.  Or maybe that one book, with the kids and the Tesseract.    

“My mutant name is Eques, but you can call me Danny if you like.”  Pyro tried not to gape.  Somehow, the winged horse form had made the other mutant even more attractive, and Pyro wasn’t even into horses…but he was starting to understand the teenage girl obsession with them.  “Danny’s” clothing had disappeared as he shifted (one of the X-Men’s unstable molecule suits, no doubt), and now he was….basically naked.  Horse form meant all the important bits were hidden, but still.  Pyro pinched the inside of his wrist very hard and tried to think about cricket.

“Oh, shape-shifting,” Sebastian said, sounding mildly bored.  “I suppose that’ll do.  But surely there are more practical…and larger things that you can change into.”

“I’m afraid not,” said Danny, biting his lip and pawing with one hoof on  the ground in a way that was positively adorable.  “It’s a very specific mutation.  I can turn into this and only this.  But don’t worry, I’m strong enough to carry you both.  We can fly up.”  He flapped his wings for emphasis.  

Sebastian rolled his eyes.

“Really?  Have we crossed over into some children’s cartoon?”  

“C’mon Shaw, he’s here to help us.  Of course, you can walk up the mountain if you prefer,” Pyro said.  

“Oh no, I wouldn’t dare leave you alone with him,” Sebastian said, smirking at Pyro, who scowled back.  “Who knows what you two would get up to?  Besides, it’s better than the hike.  Marginally.  Let’s get this over with.”  

Before Pyro could protest, Sebastian had lifted him up by the shoulders and plopped him unceremoniously on Danny’s back, then climbed on behind him.  

“Sure we aren’t too heavy for ya?  I know Shaw here must weigh a ton.”  Pyro leaned in to speak in Danny’s ear, and tried not to notice how centaur’s thick, shimmering hair, radiant in the sunlight and making Pyro’s own golden locks seem like tarnished brass, smelled faintly of eucalyptus.

Should I compliment his hair?  Maybe ask what shampoo he uses, pretend like I want advice?  God damn it, St. John, snap out of it and act normal!

“Not all, fellas!”  Danny exclaimed, with a bright, guilless smile.  “I’m strong as a horse, too, this is nothing.  But you’d better hold on as I take off, wouldn’t want you to fall.”  

“Where should we, uh….” Pyro faltered.  Much as he wanted to slip his hands over Danny’s muscular chest (for safety!) he didn’t want to be a creep.  Also, if he wasn’t careful, his….interest…would start to become noticeable in the most humiliating way possible.

“Oh, anywhere’s fine, just hang onto me as best you can,” Danny drawled.  Before Pyro could lift his hands, Sebastian reached forward, wrapping his arms around the centaur’s waist and squishing Pyro between them.  

“Get off me, Shaw!”  Pyro squirmed, pressed against Danny’s back, with Shaw’s massive, unyielding bulk behind him.  God damn it, he was now dangerously close to being caught between a rock and a….hard place.

“Stop whining, Allerdyce, this is the best way to ensure we both stay on.  I certainly don’t trust you to hang on with those weak arms of yours.  We are secure, Eques.  Proceed.”

“Why’d you even take the back, then?”  Pyro demanded, but his question was answered as Danny leaped into the air, flapping violently.  The wings beat hardest around Pyro’s head, powerful back muscles twitching uncomfortably against him.  Well, at least having Sebastian Shaw’s gross, sweaty body pressed up against him, smelling faintly of fuck-you Rich People Cologne, was enough to kill his would-be boner quite dead.  Especially with Sebastian’s no-doubt obscenely hairy crotch up against his rear, with –

Wait a minute.  What was that?!

“Shaw, what the hell?” Pyro turned slightly, but Sebastian gripped Danny tighter, pushing him back forward.  The hard object pressing against his ass shifted.

“It’s my cell phone, Allerdyce, for God’s sake.  No need to jump to conclusions just because you’re all hot and bothered.”  

Pyro wondered whether it was possible to set Sebastian on fire without hurting Danny.  Just a little bit on fire.  And then if he fell, it wouldn’t be Pyro’s fault, right?

“Gosh, this is kinda fun, fellas!”  Danny yelled above the roar of the wind.  “I’m always out here with the horses, and that’s just how I like it, but it does get kinda lonely.  I don’t get to see other mutants very often.”

“Well, I’m sure you’d get a warm welcome if you ever came to join us on Krakoa,” Sebastian said.  Pyro slammed an elbow back against him, but Sebastian just gripped tighter.

“Don’t even think about it, Allerdyce,” he said in Pyro’s ear.  “I’ll take you down with me, make no mistake of that.”  

“Say, Eques,” Sebastian called up in a louder voice.  “Have you ever met Emma Frost?  Let me tell you all about her, I’m sure you’d have a great deal to…discuss.”

Pyro fumed quietly, and fantasized about Sebastian smashing into the jagged rocks below for the rest of the trip.  

(OOC: I don’t know what Eques should sound like, but I saw he was from Texas and wound up writing him like Cannonball.  Since he’s always so isolated with his horses, I could imagine him being very naïve, but also very friendly.  

Pyro is intensely thirsty, and failing to play it cool, but can you really blame him?

I have no idea what’s on top of that mountain. Let’s just assume that Pyro, Sebastian and Danny are going up to Midnight Castle to fight Tirac with the Rainbow of Light, and if you understand that reference you win a million 80’s nostalgia points.)          

[jarienn972]

La Sirena -  Chapter Five

Captain Swan Supernatural Summer

Apologies for the delay in getting out the latest chapter of my @cssns​ story. With my kids back to school, I'm finding a bit less time to write so updates are running a little behind. I am still working diligently to keep the updates coming though!  Thank you @kmomof4​ for helping me fix a couple of minor roadblocks that I had with this chapter!  And thanks again to @courtorderedcake​ for her incredible artwork!

After leaving off with the major turning point of Killian learning the secret that Emma had been concealing, this chapter will pick up in the aftermath. Will cooler heads prevail once Killian awakens or will their budding relationship be tarnished? And of course, there's still no where else for him to go...

Read from the beginning:  One  Two  Three  Four  Also on AO3 and FF.net

Putting the Pieces Back Together

A faint tickle of a breeze caught the torch flame behind Emma's back casting uneven shadows across the cavern walls and sending delicate tendrils of smoke into the already heavy air. She was kneeling in the sand with Killian's head resting atop her thighs, not daring to stray from his side as her slender fingers combed idly through his tousled dark hair. She watched the rise and fall of his chest as she patiently awaited his awakening.

She'd frightened him. That hadn't been her intent but that damage was done and she was dealing with a relatively new emotion: guilt. Perhaps she truly was little more than a monster at her core. All of these decades of trying to suppress her innate urges and desires may have been for naught. All of her years of self-isolation hadn't changed who - or what - she was. She was still a siren. Still a threat to mankind.

Perhaps Regina was right. She'd never be able to change her nature.

But if she really was nothing more than a coquettish, evil siren, why did she have such a strong desire to protect this human? It went against every element of her being, every native instinct she'd trained and developed before turning her back on her kind. She scarcely comprehended these feelings.

Siren emotions were already complicated enough. She knew anger and indignation. She also knew emptiness. She'd been living here in solitude for nearly two centuries, give or take a decade, yet she'd never really experienced loneliness. She'd just felt that something was missing from her meager existence. She'd just never allowed herself time to think about what that void might entail.

All of that had changed the moment she confessed her true nature to Killian and he'd rejected her. Now she was overwhelmed with a barrage of new emotions - guilt, fear and something else that she couldn't yet name. For a nanosecond, she contemplated leaving him there in the subterranean cavern, doubting that he'd ever be able to accept what she was. But then she heard it again - the same tiny voice inside her head that had compelled her to save him from drowning now also compelled her to stay.

He was an intelligent being. Her revelation had been too much of a shock for someone recovering from the trauma he'd suffered. When he'd had time to process the news, he would hear her out, wouldn't he? She took a glance back over her bare shoulder at the beam of light streaming through the crack in the earth above the spring. The midday sun would soon be directly overhead and the ambient light would fade quickly within the lava tube once the sun's rays crested over the ridge.

Regina's arrival had backed her into a corner. She didn't feel as though she could adequately protect him if he wasn't aware of the scope of the threat, but now she worried he wouldn't trust her. In hindsight, she knew she hadn't handled her reveal well. Even though he didn't really have anywhere to go, she feared he'd run and the thought of that stung worse than even the most toxic jellyfish she'd ever encountered.

When at last he stirred, her siren heart nearly leapt with anticipation - another entirely new sensation for her. With a deep inhale, he raised his right hand to massage his aching skull, making incidental contact with her knee in the process. He yanked his hand away as if he'd touched a flame, his eyelids popping open in surprise as he struggled to regain coherency.

At first, he saw nothing more than darting shadows cast by the flickering torches but as his sight adjusted to the relative darkness, images gradually came into focus, becoming clearer and familiar. And then his peripheral vision captured the contour of a woman's soft, rounded ivory-skinned thigh and instantly, he was fully awake, recoiling in terror as he pushed away from the woman he no longer believed was real.

"What manner of demon are you?" he demanded, his voice pitching higher as he scrambled to take cover behind one of the aging sea chests, squeezing his eyes closed for a moment as he dared not stare at this unknown creature's naked, feminine form. "Are you some malevolent trick of my mind? Here to drag me to the depths of hell?" He couldn't fight this monster if he couldn't see her though so he reluctantly opened his eyes, focusing intently on her lovely beguiling face. Was this how a siren killed a man?

"Killian, please… Do not be afraid. I have no intent to harm you." She made an attempt to shift closer to him, to try to assure him that she wasn't a threat, but she feared she may have already done too much damage. The terror and betrayal she saw reflected in his eyes cut straight to whatever soul she had left as he continued to shy away from her.

"Don't come near me, demon!" he cried as he fumbled for the sword at his hip, sliding the blade free of the scabbard and brandishing it with an instinctive flick of his wrist. "Stay back… or I'll…" Both his voice and hand trembled at the same timbre while he held the weapon directed at her throat.

This scared human wasn't even the slightest threat to her. She could overpower him barely lifting a pinky finger, yet she was awash with that lonely emotion and it took control, leading to an unplanned action.

"Do it," she dared him, leaning into the blade. "I am a monster. End me!"

A glint of torchlight flashed off of the polished steel, illuminating her face which was etched with determination and his resolve began to waver.

"Wait… What…?" He shook his head in disbelief at her unexpected demand. His gaze locked with hers as she pleaded for death and his tenuous grip on the cutlass' pommel loosened. "No… no…" He may have been bewildered and perhaps a tad angered, but he couldn't take her life. She'd saved him.

"I am a siren, Killian. I have lured countless men like you to their demise, but while this is what I was created to be, it is not what I desire to be. I deserve to die for what I have done in my past…"

"But you saved me…," he stated as he allowed the sword to slip from his hand onto the dark, sandy cavern floor. His tone was softer as he relaxed and exhaled a deep sigh. "Whatever you are, I owe you my life…" He plopped his weary body down to the ground and drew his knees to his chest while lowering his chin in defeat. "I've no expectation of what will become of me, but I'll not harm you. If you intend to leave me here to perish, then that shall be my fate…"

"I don't wish for anyone to perish," she replied. "That is what brought me here all those ages ago. I had no desire to harm those seafarers any longer."

"But if you are a siren as you say, are the myths not true? Does your song not lure men like me to certain death? How did I arrive here still breathing?"

"At one time, I did use my voice in that way. I watched many a human plunge into the sea, transfixed and bewitched by the hypnotic spell of my siren song, at least until I could bear it no longer. Until you arrived, I'd not even used my voice in eons."

"So a siren can have a conscience?" he asked quizzically, raising one eyebrow as he awaited her answer.

"Apparently some can - at least this one, as I've been told," she said with a faint smile curling the corners of her lips, although it didn't last long as she switched the direction of their exchange. "But Killian, if we are to survive, there is much you need to know. You need to hear more of my story just as I must learn more of yours."

"How so?" His eyes narrowed as he sought to make sense of the statement. Part of his brain still questioned the veracity of any of this nonsense, but the adventurer within him remained intrigued.

"Do you recall, before you struck your head, how I had mentioned that my sister came here because I had used magic?" The memory was vague and somewhat clouded by his own skepticism but he nodded anyway and allowed her to continue. "In using my powers, I unwittingly drew the scrutiny of the council, the governing band of the most powerful sirens - of which I used to be a part. I hadn't used magic in quite a long time so I never imagined that something so innocent would have far-reaching consequences."

"What magic do you possess?"

"Aside from the ability to change form, I have other powers. Those chests you're sitting amongst, they didn't wash up on these shores as I told you. I conjured them and their contents so that you would have the objects you desired. I wanted to give you those things that the cove could not provide. I had seen many similar chests float in and out with the tides over the years, but I never kept them. I used magic to create them and I didn't think about the potential ramifications."

Killian's jaw fell agape as he listened to her confession. No one - not even Liam - had ever offered such a generous gesture meant for him alone and he was at a loss for how to respond.

"Emma… you didn't need to do such a thing…"

"I wanted to," she grinned. "I had been alone for so long and after these past few days with you, I found myself desiring to do something good with my magic. I wanted to provide for you and now, that act of goodness has put you in far greater danger…" He quickly averted his sight as she pushed herself back to stand up before starting to pace nervously along the precipice of the hot spring. "I must ask this - when I found you, you were clinging to a slab of splintered timber. Were you in a shipwreck?"

Still concentrating on focusing his gaze on the bounce of her golden locks rather than her feminine physique, Killian was taken aback. Of course, he'd been in a shipwreck…

"Aye," he replied. "Not my own ship though. I'd been taken prisoner aboard a pirated vessel that inexplicably ran aground. By the time I was able to crawl out of the flooding brig and reach the safety of the top deck, those rapscallions had all debarked, likely to an island off the distant horizon. No one was left in sight and I scarcely escaped with my life as the vessel broke apart and sank into the depths."

"You saw no one at all? Was the vessel sinking that slowly?" Emma asked curiously, pausing her pacing as she awaited his answer.

"It seemed to be taking on water quite rapidly to me so I assumed they'd taken off in the skiffs, but to answer your question - no. I saw no other men, not even my fellow crew who'd also been imprisoned, although if I'm to be honest with myself, they were likely already dead by the time the ship went down. I was the ranking officer, thereby the most valuable prisoner."

"So that's it…," she mumbled as she hovered to his right, fixated on the sparkling surface of the spring. "That's how Regina knew they may have left a survivor… Killian, don't you see? You didn't see any others aboard the ship because they'd already succumbed to the song of the sirens. The ship ran aground because no one was helming it."

"How is that possible?" he queried as he raised his head in renewed curiosity. "I heard no singing, only the cracking of aging wood and the slap of the waves on the hull."

"You heard nothing? No song?" She spun around to face him, bewildered by his statement. "If the sirens attacked the ship, you would have heard their song."

"I swear to you, I heard nothing out of the ordinary, at least not until the vessel struck the rocks and began her unraveling. Are you certain that your kind assailed that vessel? It's highly likely that the pirates merely strayed off-course."

"No," she insisted, shaking her head. "Regina specifically mentioned that a ship had sailed into siren waters… In the condition I found you in, you could not have traveled far from the wreck so it must be the same vessel she spoke of. None of the sirens would have waited around to watch the vessel disintegrate but some of our ne'er do well fellow sea-dwellers reported rumors of a survivor in the wreck and those rumors reached the council. That's the reason they became suspicious of me when I utilized my magic… You must be that survivor."

Killian's head was suddenly spinning again and this time, it wasn't from the concussion. Sirens were a part of maritime history and mythology that he'd been educated in. He'd entertained countless yarns about ships that strayed into uncharted waters, never to be seen again. All manner of sea monsters had been attributed to these vanishing vessels but tales of sirens had always been particularly beguiling. Demons taking the form of beautiful women were said to lure unsuspecting sailors into the sea where they'd devour their unfaithful hearts.

But they were all only mythical… Until now…

"According to the legends I grew up hearing, sirens preyed upon lonely sailors far from home and family. The siren song was said to enchant the unfaithful amongst them, luring them into the depths of the sea where they'd be devoured. Is that how it really happens?"

"That isn't entirely true, but it is very close," Emma explained. "The song does lure the unsuspecting sailors, but only those deemed unworthy of passage through our realm by the gods. The unworthy are not allowed to travel through our seas and the song puts them into a trance. The men will then leap from their ships into the sea and sink to Triton's lair. I honestly do not know what becomes of them after they drown, what Triton desires of them. It never mattered to me, not then and I certainly did not dwell upon it after I departed the council."

"Until you found me?" he offered, shivering at the fate he'd narrowly avoided. "This may be a pointless query, but has any man ever been found worthy?"

"Well, long before my creation, there was a single human whom Poseidon deemed to be worthy to pass. That man went on to become a great leader of his land and for a while, there was peace between the realm of man and that of the gods. Unfortunately, that man's successors were nothing like him and the years of peace ended. Triton ordered all of the creatures in his command to defend our realm from the evil of mankind. Poseidon unleashed innumerable monsters including dozens more sirens, including myself and for many years, I followed the orders of the gods…"

"I've heard many tales of these legendary gods of the sea. Never in all my dreams did I imagine they were real and that they alone determined the worth of a man."

"I broke away from the council when I began to suspect that the gods harbored more of a vindictive grudge against these men of the sea. I could no longer be convinced that there weren't good men among those we had deceived. Not every man could be so evil."

"Indeed, there are men with good hearts out there but I shan't deny that there is evil in the world. I've encountered those who might barely be described as human, yet most folk are just going about their lives and wish no harm. It would seem that the same might be said of the legendary siren as there is at least one who possesses a good heart… But if we are to circle back to the pirate ship I escaped from, how did I come to survive? Was it because I was secreted away in a cranny of the cargo hold? Was I too far below deck to hear the songs?"

"No, it doesn't work like that. The siren song resonates through every inch of a vessel and carries for several leagues out to sea. It is intended to be heard by every human ear that ventures into our realm."

"That makes little sense to me then," Killian countered. "Why didn't I hear the siren voices? I hear you speaking to me just fine as I am not deaf and despite my injury when you rescued me from the water, I had been fully conscious just prior to the ship's grounding."

"I… I do not know," she stammered. This was another first for her and she had no response. She honestly did not have any inkling as to how he'd resisted.

"Do you still possess the ability to sing?" he asked her bluntly and she found herself ill-prepared to answer.

"I am not entirely certain…," she told him, her voice trembling at the possible implications of the question. "It has been centuries… I believe I am still able to sing, but I cannot predict the outcome. There may be ramifications that you aren't ready for and it may hasten Regina and the council's return…"

He tried to avoid the darkening of her olivine eyes as she pleaded wordlessly for him to reconsider, but it was the only way he might discover how he'd managed to remain alive.

"Emma, you must," he pressed. "It's the only way I'll know… That we'll know. You would be able to tell right away if the song has the desired effect, correct?"

"Of course, I would know. I just cannot promise that I can stop it as I've never tried…"

"Then consider this your chance to find out," Killian stated bravely, although inside, his stomach was churning at the huge risk he was taking. "I must learn why I was spared, Love. Please, indulge my curiosity and desire to solve this one mystery…"

"Killian…" She didn't want to do this. She'd vowed to never sing again and she certainly didn't want to endanger this man she'd become so fond of. Could she deny him the answers he so desperately wanted? She'd know within a few notes but even if the song ended abruptly, would she be able to reverse its effects if he wasn't immune?

#cssns #cssns20 #captain swan supernatural summer #cs ff #cs au ff #siren emma #la sirena #buckle up now #there's a lot hanging on a song

[bexterbex]

A Soul to Mend His Own | Ch. 67

Warning, PLEASE CHECK TAGS IF YOU SEE SOMETHING YOU DON’T WANT TO READ THEN DON’T READ. Tag lists are closed

Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Will tag as I go along, Will update tags, Slow Burn, Influenced by Star Trek and other Sci-Fi themes, References to We Happy Few, Tons of References and quotes to George Orwells 1984 see if you can find them all, The First Order is the new Big Brother,  but who is really surprised, Blatant Nazi Symbolism, Interrogation Themes, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Really just drawn out Slow Burn, Don’t repost without permission, Torture themes, Suggestive Themes, Execution themes, Disturbing Themes, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Verbal Abuse, Controlling Kylo Ren, Physical Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, Possessive Kylo Ren, A character shamelessly based on Zelda

A Kylo Ren x Modern! Reader in a soulmate au with canon divergence. —————————————SLOWBURN————————————–

He is already the Supreme leader, searching the universe to find you, his Empress. Your name on his wrist has been the only constant in his life, while you have doubts about his existence and his acceptance of you. He isn’t in the database and why did the name Kylo Ren cover Ben Solo?

MASTERLIST

Chapter 67: Planning a Wedding

This was the first time in a while that you had woken up completely alone. You were thankful that the sleeping pill put you to sleep because if it didn’t you were pretty sure that falling asleep would have been hard since Kylo wasn’t wrapped around you. The bed felt empty, but you weren’t alone for long. Adlez and Olivia-Rose were there a few minutes after you became conscious.  

You went about your usual morning routine of getting dressed, having breakfast, learning your schedule, and so on. Somehow it all felt rather monotonous. This repeated for the first few days until you were informed that the dressmaker would be arriving to take your measurements and to design your dress.

You were expecting to meet a man but were surprised to see a rather older looking woman greeting you, “Good morning Lady Ren, I am here to design your ceremony gown.” Her voice was that characteristically sweet old lady voice that always comforted you.  

“It is nice to meet you, I trust my lady-in-waiting sent you some of the designs we need to beat. This is a rather important dress and I would like to get it right.” No, you had to get right, and she knew that.

“Of course, the dresses she sent over were some of the best ones worn by Queen Padme Amidala . Are they something you would like to emulate or are they just something to compare to?” You watched as her kind gray eyes watched your face, they were rather comforting.

“Something to compare to, I also believe she sent over some dresses from my planet as well, some dresses that royalty have worn .” You had seen some of the royal wedding dresses splashed across tabloids at the supermarkets. You knew people always loved them, and you had to admit that they were rather pretty.

“Yes, the main theme from those dresses that I could see were white lace gowns that were modest and featured long trains. Is this something you would like to start with?” She seemed to read you very well, in many ways she seemed like another person you could trust.

“Yes, I want a white dress as it is traditional where I come from. But I would like to include something from Naboo if possible.” You had seen the dresses Adlez had sent over, none of them were really your taste, but you knew Kylo’s grandmother was famous for her fashion sense. And he had a deep devotion to his grandfather, so you wanted to honor his wife.

“We could include some specialty embroidery or lace, Naboo is famous for it unless you would like to have a stuffed bodice?” You did not want the horrid puffy sleeves of her dresses, nor did you want the rather elaborate hairstyles she favored.

“No embroidery or lace will be fine. I am not a fan of large puffy sleeves. I sort of want something sleek and timeless. Something that will be spoken about for millennia.” You hoped the galactic fashion trends were similar to Earth’s in that some things were considered timeless.

“May I ask where the ceremony is being held?” She started to take out her sketchbook and jot down some notes.

“The castle on Mustafar,” you stood by your agreement to have it there, even if a small part of you wished you could have it back on Earth.

“Ah, so I must make you stand out from the architecture. It features a lot of harsh lines and symmetry. And you must stand apart but yet together with the Supreme Leader. I trust the Supreme Leader will have something special made by one of the First Order tailors.”

She started sketching design after design, eventually; you settled on one. Something that would make you look feminine and delicate against the architecture, but yet regal and powerful. It would feature lace from Naboo, and a long train and veil combo that would bring in the royalty vibes you were hoping for. She took the final design and informed you she would be back in a few days with the dress.

All the excitement of designing a wedding dress dissipated after a bit. You were then left to your regular routine of learning, going to meetings, and meeting with your staff.

Kylo had been gone five days before you heard from him. He had yet to make any real headway in finding the scavenger.

“I’ve missed you,” you said as you saw his face appear on the holocall.  

“I’ve missed you too, Kitten.” Gods how you missed his voice. You hoped all of this would end soon because you couldn’t take it for much longer.  

“Are you lonely without me?” If he asked you that question back you would beg him to come home. But he didn’t.

“Terribly, the bed is cold, I miss my morning kisses. My nightly showers are even worse, as there is no beautiful woman to climb into bed with afterward.” He gave you a wink that had you blushing all over. You were glad the holocall gave you a blue cast as you were sure he would tease you about it. “As much as my knights are my brothers, they are no replacement for you. I also don’t think Ushar and Cardo would appreciate playing with me like you do, Kitten.” Now you were fully beat red. “Although Cardo does seem lonely himself. Maybe you could talk to that lady-in-waiting of yours to message him, to cheer him up?”

Of course, Adlez was up to shenanigans when you weren’t with her. “I know nothing of their relationship. If he is feeling lonely, then he can message her himself. “You truly didn’t know anything, and you kinda preferred it that way.

You heard a chuckle come from his deep resonating chest, only muffled by the audio of the holocall, “You are lucky you don’t hear their talks about her then. I am afraid your lady-in-waiting might tarnish my knights.”

“Hey now, she is the one you picked for me. I think she’s just whipping them into shape.” He did pick her out for you, a decision he should probably regret.  

“Literally,” he said with a smirk. You could see the playful water swirl in his cauldron eyes. Eyes that you really wanted to drown in.

“I did not need to know that.” Now the image of Adlez with a riding crop popped into your head, an image that would scar you presumably for life.  

“Well, Kitten, it might be something we can experiment with too once I get back.” And for the first time since you’ve met him, he actually winked at you. You had no idea where this truly flirty side was coming from, but you hoped it didn’t leave.

Your face was now completely on fire. In an attempt to change the subject, “How are you advancing on your mission?”

His face turned into a scowl. “She has been difficult to find, It hasn’t been easy. Once Rey is dead, my mother will hand herself over quietly. But for now, I have to go, we will be dropping out of hyperspace in a few minutes and we will be searching the planets in this system.”

“Where are you off to again?” You haven’t heard directly from him in the last few days, but you have been receiving updates. But you had still yet to learn about the galaxy and its many planets.

“Pasaana, we have a lead that she may be headed there. I will call you when I can.” You could hear some of the knights moving around in the back of the call. You hoped he would just finish what he needed to do soon so he could come back to you.

“Return to me in one piece, please.” If he got hurt or killed, you wouldn’t know how to handle yourself.

“I will.” You watched as his image faded from in front of you. The call ended. And you were alone once more. Alone to face the next few days by yourself.

In the rush of being able to talk to him again, to see him. You had completely forgotten about the need to chew him out for not actually proposing to you. To just leave you in the hands of the rest of the First Order to plan a wedding. But you missed him, you were lonely.

The last few days you had just been eating dinner by yourself. You knew Adlez was eating with the knights and that Olivia-Rose and Mitaka were probably together. All in all, you felt rather more alone. Everyone around you seemed to have a life outside your chambers. Not that you didn’t, but you hadn’t the true freedom of being able to walk the halls or to meet new people to just be friends with.

You had been keeping tabs on your friends back home on Earth. Hayden and Carter both seemed to be doing fine. Hayden had applied for the ‘trooper corps that would be stationed on Earth and Carter seemed to be excelling at work. You knew that calling them wouldn’t be the same as before all this happened. All of you had changed. You dreaded knowing what they were like after the education had fully set in. You were different to but in ways you could not describe. For better or worse you were a different woman than when you first met Kylo. You were becoming more like him every day, and it should bother you, but right now it comforted you. He was gone but was still with you at the same time.

You also did not want to call your parents or siblings. Your parents had been disrespectful to you before you left. You wondered if they would attend the ceremony, your wedding. Or if they would just watch the broadcast like every other First Order citizen. Hux would know, but you didn’t really care either way. Kylo was your family now, and maybe one day you would make one with him. In many ways, Olivia-Rose, Adlez, Mitaka, Hux, Phasma, the Knights of Ren, and your staff were your family. But Kylo was home, and no one could take that away from you. Not Rey, not his mother, no one.

You got yourself ready for bed, as you had been for the last few nights. The only person who saw you was the doctor as he administered your sleeping pill. You took less time to get ready as really; you had no one to get ready for. There was no Kylo to warm the bed or to wake you up. It was just you.

Once the doctor left after you received your dose you rolled over to Kylo’s side of the bed. His pillow still smelled like him and it helped ease the loneliness as the blackness of sleep took over. No dreams to disturb you.

The next few days were as monotonous as ever. The same routine day in and day out, until the general informed you that the ship had arrived at Mustafar two days ago but that they were having trouble preparing the castle.

“So this isn’t a First Order controlled planet?” You assumed it was when it was suggested in the first place.

“It technically isn’t but we haven’t had a problem here in the past, but I suppose that might have to do with the Supreme Leader’s presence at the time,” responded Hux. You were joined by all your staff as you were planning more details for the ceremony.

“So they will continue to be hostile, and the place where my wedding is supposed to happen will be in ruin?” Just what you needed. Your match was out trying to kill someone to protect you, but you were sent off to a battlefield where you were supposed to get married and be crowned Empress.

“Well, the castle isn’t necessarily in the best of conditions in the first place,” said Captain Mitaka.  

“Then why was it recommended?” You had yet to receive any information on your wedding venue, really. You had no idea what it looked like, not that you could really change it now.

“Because it was Lord Vader’s personal residence and his influence on the Supreme Leader’s life has been significant. He holds his grandfather and his legacy in high regard,” responded Hux. You knew the answer but were just frustrated at the current situation. Nothing felt like it was going to plan.  

“So who is attacking the ground troops?” No one had told you who, just that they were being attacked.

“Alazmec of Winsit, Sith cultists. They believe Lord Vader to be a deity,” said Hux.  

A lightbulb clicked in your brain. “Do they know that the Supreme Leader is a direct descendant of Darth Vader? And that he would like to have a wedding at his grandfather’s castle?”

“No, they do not,” said Mitaka.

Why is it that you occasionally felt like the smartest person in the room? “Can we reason with them, inform them of this?”

“We have tried, the troops we have sent have been defeated.” Hux was starting to look easily frustrated. You had no idea how many people they had sent down or how many of the cultists there were, but surely this couldn’t keep on going when you had a wedding to plan.

You had made a decision. “I shall go reason with them.”

“I don’t think that is a good idea. I don’t believe the Supreme Leader would approve of you putting yourself in harm’s way,” said Hux.

“Is the Supreme Leader here?” You have had enough.

“No,” said Mitaka. And this is why he was one of your favorites.  

“Exactly and did he give explicit orders to keep me from going to the planet’s surface?” You were determined to get this whole thing over with.

“No, m’lady,” said Hux. You could tell that he knew he was going to regret saying that.  

“Then I am going down to the planet to reason with them. I will have the knights and Captain Phasma with me. The only way I could be safer is if the Supreme Leader was here himself, but then again if he was we wouldn’t have this problem.” You were starting to understand how a Bridezilla was formed but was it really that unreasonable to get your ceremony space in order? You had promised that you would have your wedding on Mustafar and come hell or high water, you were going to have it there. After all, you were going to be the Empress of the entire galaxy one day, so you should have a wedding to remember.

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo x reader #kylo x you #a soul to mend his own #star wars #first order #star wars imagine #Star wars soulmate au #sw first order imagine #star wars first order

[thenewyorkghost]

Batfam Sorting

(Ok this includes other gotham characters)

Batfam:

Dick Grayson: Pukwudgie  Pukwudgie is for healers. And I think that perfectly fits Dick. He knows what makes each one of his loved ones tick and that level of understanding can be healing. He is a wonderful leader, not because he has a plan for everything like Batman, but because every one of his team members can trust him. He has a way of bringing people together. He is a person who is very in touch with the emotions of those around him, maybe not with his own at certain points, but he has built himself a good community that can heal him as well whenever he is down. He is someone who gives so much to those around him and loves very deeply that those around him become better people by being near him. 

Jason Todd: Wampus Jason Todd is most definitely a warrior, a survivor. He is someone who sees things how they are. Batman refuses to kill people and he thinks: if getting rid of this person will end up saving lives I’ll do what I have to do. And it doesn’t tarnish character, because he is logical and set in his ways. I think it shows how caring he is to those around him. He values their life so much so that he doesn’t care about the guilt or the mental strain he might put himself by killing a person. Although, in a recent comic, it showed a young Jason killing his friend’s dad, because he was being abusive or something, and he didn’t feel bad till he saw how it hurt his friend. He is just doing what he thinks has to be done. He is a very pragmatic, yet impulsive person. I think he has difficulty addressing his own emotions. He often rejects love directed at him or is just shocked by it, but over time he slowly accepts it more. And he’s always caring towards his loved ones in his own distinct way. 

Tim Drake: Horned Serpent The Horned Serpent represents the mind. When Cassandra Cain was pointing out what Dick, Jason, and Tim all fight with when she came to Tim she pointed to his mind. Tim doesn’t have the agility like Dick or the brute strength like Jason, but what he does have is a brilliant mind. He is quick thinking and very analytical. He is always one step ahead of others, not because he is physically fast but because he analyzes people and prepares for whatever they have in store for him. He knows his own limits and strengths and of those around him and that is how he is able to win the upper hand. He is not impulsive, but strategic and tactful. That is why when Damian, who is a trained assassin, went up against him the second time he lost. But his mind can at times also cause him to overthink things making him fail. 

Cassandra Cain: Wampus Cassandra Cain is extremely analytical and unbiased. She just sees everything as it is. So much so that she is capable of predicting what move people are going to make. All of her movements are second nature to her. Most of her life she wasn’t allowed to speak, but she had her eyes and used them to see the unsaid. When you’re able to see everything about someone you also see a lot of pain, so I think she has shown to be a very caring and understanding person. She’s not someone who pushes you to talk about your feelings, she just understands. And sometimes people just need someone who will just sit there with you and listen. Cassandra Cain is a warrior, but a very different kind of warrior. And even after everything she has been through, she continues to choose using her abilities for good. 

Duke Thomas: Wampus People sometimes just portray Duke Thomas as the straight man of the group, but he is someone who has this determination to him where nothing can ever get in his way. He is a straightforward person, but he isn’t the one person in the Batfam who Batman thinks is reasonable. If Batman lets Duke do whatever it is because he knows there is nothing he can ever do to stop him, so he constantly has to compromise. Dude literally jumped out of a moving car and a bridge, there’s no stopping him. He refuses to back down and, yes, it’s admirable, but I wouldn’t say it’s always reasonable. He radiates “I can do this all day” energy. Other than being a very driven character, he is also very passionate and confident. He is someone who has heart. He is a relaxed person that doesn’t plan for things, yet he is great in a crisis with his level of intellect, flexibility and spontaneity. He can be a tame person that knows how to prioritize- saving his spontaneity for a rainy day, then releasing that built up energy. Wampus is the house for people that just: do; therefore, I think he’d be best in this one. 

Damian Wayne: Pukwudgie While I think it’d be easy to just sort Damian into Wampus, because he’s literally an assassin, I think he definitely fits into Pukwudgie a billion times better. He was trained to be a weapon from birth, that doesn’t take love and encouragement. Before he met his dad he was sent on a mission to kill many people, once he was finished he was on his knees when a little animal came up to his face, kinda smiled at him, and then licked his nose. When that happened he began sobbing. This is where his love for animals began and I think it is because an animal was the first one to show love to him. Once he moved in with his dad and siblings and finally started seeing other people as his equals, we begin to see how he craves acceptance from those he cares about. We see how when he finds out that Tim has a plan in his computer for stopping Damian if he turns on them, really hurts his feelings. Anywho, when he first moved into the manor the only emotions he felt deeply was anger, but as time went on we see the range of his emotions. When he became friends with Jon both Batman and Nightwing pointed out how much happier and talkative he was. After Dick Grayson faked his death then came back, he ran into his arms and told him that he missed him. He is a more reserved person, but he forms strong emotional attachments to those he values. I think the older he gets the more he will be able to show how he feels about those around him. Pukwudgie is represented by the heart and all of Damian’s actions stem right from there. 

Extended Batfam:

Stephanie Brown: Thunderbird Stephanie Brown refuses to let herself be brought down by her misery. She’s an energetic and sassy person who makes quick connections with many people.  Though it doesn’t mean that they are deep connections. She is not someone that opens up really opens up about her private life, because she doesn’t know who to trust. Plus, the beginning of her life was really lonely. She seems to crave deep connections, while also loving action and risk. Her enthusiasm gets people to open up more. And she most definitely loves messing with literally everyone. It may seem like she can’t have close relations at first, but those develop gradually for her. One day you look back and realize ‘huh this girl is literally here every. single. day.’ Later in life this queen knows her worth and refuses to let anyone bring her down. Once she gets past all the anger built up from the pain caused by her father she becomes sure of herself. She is someone constantly trying to figure herself out or truly get to know herself. While at first I thought she fit perfectly into Thunderbird, because of her energy and love of thrill, but I think below the surface she cares more to be loved and to have that family. So, I don’t know, maybe she can go either Thunderbird or Pukwudgie. 

Barbara Gordon: Thunderbird I know that Barbara Gordon is a brilliant, tech-savvy individual who has a photographic memory. Yes, but I think her more defining characteristics are those that line up with the Thunderbird house. She is someone who cannot be tied down. From the very start she is this driven force to be reckoned with. Her whole life her defined by defying the expectations. She enjoys questioning everyone about their beliefs and is outspoken of her own. Before she became Batgirl she’d constantly argue with her father about becoming a detective. She’s very set on creating positive change in the world. She believes change is necessary and important. While she has a set moral compass it isn’t black and white. She is able to listen and work with people she does not agree. And her defining trait is that she is constantly pushing herself and never gives up. She’s a very grounded person and though she a force of change, she herself doesn’t change much. She grows a lot, but she is set with her core values from the very start. I think that makes her a reliable leader. 

Anyways, this is so difficult. I like hogwarts houses way better, bc it’s literally about what is most important to you. 

[xhanisai]

I watched Loveeater and it basically broke me. I really need more Kiss AU, so... 1) What happens during Chameleon? 2) What about Chloe, she still hate Marinette with a passion or Adrien managed to make them comfortable around each other?

Here my poor child, I hope this picks up the fragments of your broken heart ;;;; If you don’t mind, I’ll just answer about Chameleon cos I have a big idea for this.

Chameleon - (remember, Adrien and Marinette aren’t aware of how evil or manipulative Lila is here. They thought she was okay after the akuma incident and forgot about her during her absence, supposedly doing small charity work in Achu. They’re not too fond of her and Alya is sus about Lila.) Also, this is still pre-relationship (or so they convince themselves oof lol)

This episode starts off with Lila already in the class, bright and early. However, she’s in Nino’s seat...

She convinced Mdll. Bustier that she had tinnitus and needed to sit at the front so that she can listen to what she’s saying. Caline doesn’t bat an eye at this, simply accepts it as she’s loaded with so much work. 

The rest of the class walk in, sending a curious eye to Lila but shrugs it off. When Adrien, Mari, Alya and Nino walk in, Alya is the one to question the seating. She raises a brow at Lila’s tinnitus reasoning. She finds it shady. Nino just tells her that she’ll sit with him.

This puts Mari and Adrien in a dilemma. They’d have sat at the back but Lila points out that she doesn’t want to be alone, rubbing her arms and looking to the ground. Caline requests that one of them sits by Lila which takes the class aback- it’s impossible to separate Adrien and Marinette.

“You’re making me split up with my life partner?” Adrien gave kicked puppy look, clutching onto the hem of Marinette’s jacket. 

“Adrien,” Caline sighs out tiredly. She doesn’t have enough caffeine in her system to handle Adrien’s usual shenanigans. “It’s only temporarily. Lila is a new girl and she’ll need all the help she can get. Marinette isn’t going to flee to New York with Lila in her arms.”

The cat hero then turned to Marinette, eyebrows pleading for her to say something on his defense. 

“Come on, it’s just for a day. I’ve been slacking in my class president duties as well so...please?” The model was always a sucker for her sparkling bluebell eyes before rolling his eyes in annoyance and nodding. Marinette gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, ushering him to the seat next to Nathaniel before plopping down next to Lila. 

Lila and Marinette hit off really well here- or so Marinette thought. Mari felt slightly off around Lila, especially when talking about the work she did in Achu and completely flattering Marinette when she found out about the work she did for Jagged Stone. 

Adrien didn’t like how Lila would cling to Marinette’s arm like a clam, fingers sometimes trailing up Mari’s arm. Marinette felt uncomfortable but didn’t want to be rude. She and Alya had no boundaries when it comes to touching, overly affectionate like sisters- so why did Lila’s touch feel like poison? Why does her fingers often brush against her midriff or upper thighs...? 

Whenever Adrien tried to get to Marinette, Lila would lead the designer away or elsewhere, especially in a big crowd where a fuss can easily be made. Alya pointed out that if Adrien took Mari away from there, he’d be labelled as dangerously clingy and undesirable rumours could start.

He tried to calm himself down but as soon as he saw Lila lean close into Marinette’s face (which was paling like a ghost as she was trying to back away), he snapped. 

“Excuse me, I need to borrow her for a second.”

Marinette felt an iron grip on her wrist and she was immediately tugged out of Lila’s grasps, led away from the playground and into the lone lockers room. She didn’t even need to look up to know that it’s Adrien; his touch committed to memory. 

When she finally regained her bearings, she noticed how her Chaton was seething on the spot, glaring out of the door. Probably to see if Lila followed. Luck was on his side for once as other students went up to her, curious about the new girl. Plagg and Tikki flew out of their respective hiding places, nuzzling Marinette on each cheek before leaving to give them so privacy. Adrien then faced Marinette, hands on shoulders.

“Hey, breathe. You’re shaking like a leaf.” The familiarity of his sweet emerald eyes brought Marinette back to the real world, glancing at her hands that were indeed shaking. She took a few deep breaths, falling into Adrien’s embrace. It took her a few minutes to completely calm down, with the safety of his kisses on her hair and his warm arms around her body, rocking them both slowly back and forth. 

“I...I’m freaking Ladybug...I shouldn’t be scared of a girl advancing on me...” She mumbled out. Adrien felt himself stiffen and his hold on her tightened. “We’re girls- it’s normal for girls to touch each other in places...right?”

Adrien pulled away just a bit so that he could face her. Raw anger simmered in his veins as his Lady’s lips trembled. 

“No, it’s not normal for strangers to place their hands all over you. It doesn’t matter what sex you are, no one has the rights to touch you in a way that makes you so scared.” His voice took on a grave, threatening tone. Similar to the one he used when Theo was staring at Ladybug like a predator. 

“I know that...I know...so why do I keep justifying her actions? She said ‘We could be great friends’ and leaned in...I never wanted to run away so badly...” Marinette’s sentence ended in a whisper, making Adrien push her face into his chest again.

“I’m going to kill her-”

“Don’t! Adrien no! That’s wrong-”

“I don’t care!” His fingers sunk into her shoulders, a scowl plastered on his face and his eyes gleamed toxically. “No one gets away with doing THAT to you. Nobody!”

“You’re better than this Adrien, come on. I’m okay now. I was just startled-”

“Stop. Stop that. Stop downplaying your feelings! You’re the one who taught me to stand up for myself, to not let people use me as a doormat, to tell my own father how I really feel about the extra-curriculars. So take your advice and tell her off at the very least, please! Or tell Mlle. Bustier. Anything.” His eyebrows furrowed desperately as Adrien leaned his forehead against hers. His hands trailed to her cheeks, cupping them with such tenderness and love. 

“It’s easier to give advice than to take them it seems,” Marinette giggled, loving how Adrien let his lips straighten into a ‘Really?’ look. The designer then frowned, looking away. “I can’t really file a complaint without proof. If it was a guy doing it, the school would have taken it seriously. But since Lila is a girl and I’m a girl...”

“Fucking double standards...” The blonde spat out with indignation. “You could fix that ya know, you’re class rep,” 

“Yes but also, what if Lila claims it’s an Italian thing and then bursts into tears for making this situation bigger than it is? I’ll feel so bad...”

“You’re the victim here Marinette. Alya and I saw the way she touched you- it was inappropriate and disgusting. I’ll report to Mlle. myself if you’re not going to do it,” The girl in his arms looked up like a deer in headlights, shaking her head with a small ‘No!’. “Or you could come with me? Alya is a witness- three against one. Surely action will be taken then?”

Marinette’s frown only deepened.

“Come one, maybe this could give Lila a wake up call? Improve on her behaviour? We could befriend her properly if she fixes up.” This got the girl to look up, a hopeful smile on her lips. “There’s my girl,” Adrien chuckled, kissing her forehead. 

Next, the trio plus Nino files their complaints to their teacher about what happened. Marinette wanted it to be kept at the down low since she didn’t want to tarnish Lila’s reputation. She genuinely believed that there is probably some good in Lila. 

Caline rounds just Lila and Marinette up to discuss about the incident. As Marinette predicted, Lila burst into tears “apologetically”, running into the girls’ bathroom. The heroine didn’t think twice to run after her, ignoring her teacher’s exclaims and her trio of friends who were waiting outside the room. They’re called in by Caline (much to their protests) so that she can explain that perhaps Lila hasn’t been educated on social boundaries and what lines cannot be crossed.

Meanwhile, when Marinette finds Lila “sobbing” in the toilets, she tried to calm her down. 

This takes a 180 turn. Lila shouts how she doesn’t want Marinette coming near her. How she feels so humiliated, gross and offended that Mari dared to think that her affections were a form of harassment. She goes on a rant with how she will never have any friends now, how she’ll get looked down upon and how it’s like her old school all over again with everyone bullying her. 

“I can’t believe you ruined my life like that Marinette...I thought you were a good person!”

Lila storms out as a shocked and distraught looking Marinette froze in the same spot she was in. The crocodile tears were wiped away and a smug, sinister grin crept on Lila’s face. 

The butterfly does manage to clasp onto Marinette, however, thanks to Tikki’s pleadings and her strong will, the girl fights off the akumatisation. She collapses on the floor in exhaustion, completely forgetting about the butterfly. She thanks Tikki for her support, finally seeing how toxic Lila was, how this was none of Marinette’s fault. 

She then realises about the butterfly and darts out, looking for it.

The trio of friends are escorted back into the class but Adrien quips that he needs the bathroom. Caline saw past his lie but let him go anyways. It was a pure miracle that she kept Adrien and Marinette apart for so long anyways.

Agreste comes across Rossi midrun. They both have a stare off, one hoping that the other didn’t see her smirk whilst the other spotted it a million miles away. Adrien’s face twisted into a dangerous glare.

“A-Adrien? Why are you looking at me like that? I thought Mlle. Bustier fixed the matter-”

“I’ve been surrounded by lying, fake, atrocious people all my life. I know you’re one of them too.” The boy growled out. One side of him wanted to claw the girl’s face off whilst the other needed to check on his princess. 

“...you’re not as angelic as everyone else described you know.” The sarcastic, dry tone was such a huge contrast against the fake shy, sweet voice she tried serenading the class with. He very much preferred the real deal.

“Not when it comes to anyone hurting my partner.” He snarled. His nails dug into his palms. It took everything for him to restrain himself. Lila simply scoffed, crossing her arms.

“I’d watch what I say if I were you Agreste. You sound so possessive...so angry...those types of boys are usually kept away from sweet princesses like Marinette. One scream from me, one shout, and everyone will come aiding me no matter how well they love you.” Boldly, she flicked his cheek with a sickly sweet smile, relishing the way he bristled up and the colourful swears he let out. She stalked off triumphantly as Adrien ran off in search of Marinette.

She caught a flutter of dark wings nearby- her smirk widened to the point that would rival one of Chat Noir’s insane grins. 

Adrien and Marinette finally catch each other, the former fussing over her, asking if she’s okay. The sudden shout of an akuma in the school snapped them out of their conversation, both failing to bring up what happened to them. Marinette doesn’t waste time, dragging them both in the closest cleaner’s closet and pulling Adrien in for a kiss.

This kiss was a mess, desperate and full of frustration. The suit was quick to encase them but they kept on kissing, grabbing onto each other, letting their feelings out. By the time Ladybug had Chat against the wall, another scream was let out outside, a familiar voice yelling Nino’s name.

They had to pull away reluctantly and speed out. 

The fight goes similarly to canon except Chameleon took the form of Nino instead of Adrien. Towards the end, they find out it was Lila who was akumatised. Ladybug looked at her sympathetically but then she notices how Chat watches Lila with confusion. 

“She was smiling like she won the lottery when I last saw her. How did she get akumatised so quickly?” Chat eyed the Italian cautiously, leading Ladybug away by hand instinctively till she whipped her yoyo out and they simultaneously leapt away, missing Lila’s pissed off gaze. 

“What do you mean smiling? She was crying so badly when she ran out of the bathroom...” Ladybug added. 

Chat narrowed his eyes as did Ladybug till they both suddenly looked at each other. It clicked.

“She faked everything...the whole crying out of Mlle. Bustier’s staff room and bathroom was all a fake...to make me feel bad...”

“That’s why she looked so damn proud of herself- but that doesn’t explain the butterfly.” He glanced back at Ladybug, taken aback by her guilty look. All that Chat saw was red.

“Bug. Were you almost akumatised...because of HER?” Ladybug’s silence was all that Chat needed. Enraged, he made way back to the eiffel tower, thirsting for the blood of a certain Italian.

He didn’t expect his transformation to drop mid jump, quickly saved by Ladybug’s yoyo string, dropping them both down a secluded alleyway. Her transformation fell too. 

“Adrien. We are heroes. Don’t hurt her.” Instead of answering, Adrien slipped his ring off and laid it next to Plagg who laid with exhaustion and a block of cheese. He stormed towards Marinette, hands trembling but successfully taking off her earrings, laying them by Tikki who was by her counterpart along with a cookie. Marinette didn’t even flinch.

She let him crush his lips against hers. Let him push her against the wall. Let him kiss her senseless without a care about school or classmates or anything else. All that mattered was each other. She finally closed her eyes, arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. 

By the time Mari and Adrien does make it back to class, everyone teases their dishevelled look and messy hair. How are they not dating yet, they’ll never know. The duo ignored Lila’s presence as they made way to the back of the class. 

They vowed to not only protect each other but anyone else around Lila’s presence. If they want her to be caught, they’ll need to be patient. Good thing Alya is an aspiring journalist. The ep ends with just adrinette and Lila having a stare off outside the school.

“This is War.” Lila mouths, the same devilish smile stuck on her face before it twisted into that sickly saccharine smile, yelling out her goodbyes to them both. 

THE END.

Satisfied? :’DDDD

#my asks #kiss au #my au #it's half three in the morning i completely lost track of time wtfffff #ml #mlb #miraculous Ladybug #miraculous Ladybug and chat noir #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrienette #adrinette #ladynoir #lila rossi #chameleon

[jump-off-a-clifford-universe]

Your Song || Part 3

Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier 

Summary: Geralt x Jaskier where basically Jaskier is a merman who met Geralt while Geralt was training to be a witcher. Both of them were young, Jaskier was curious, Geralt wasn’t as broody, and they fell in love with each other. But after Geralt completed his trainings, something happened and they parted ways. Years later, perhaps destiny does have a way of bringing lovers back together, they met again. But this time, things are different. 

Warning: smut hehe

A/N: just a tiny note, i love calanthe and eist and ciri, i’m just using cintra sort of as the bad guy of the series, but no hate at all! hope you guys enjoy this part, the following parts will move faster and I promise, more exciting things coming soon! 

Geralt sighs as he lowers himself in the tub of hot water and finally feels all the built-up exhaustion and tension melt away. Somedays he wonders why he puts up with these aggravating nobles - all he wants to do is to hunt monsters, help innocent people and earn some coins while doing it. But more often than not, he gets involved in these tiresome events and has to put up a friendly face, which he was never trained for. 

Geralt closed his eyes and breathed in the scent. Chrysanthemum and carnation. Just like Cintra, Geralt noted, the two overpowering scents compete with each other and they lack a quieter note that anchors the scent. Although the strong scent is starting to make him feel hazy, Geralt is still thankful for Queen Calanthe’s invitation to stay the night - it is still better than spending the night in the wilderness where everywhere is cold and dark and has a faint smell of horse shit. 

The music is still vaguely audible from Geralt’s room. However, underneath the jolly music and drunk lords out-of-tune singing, Geralt picked up on a voice. A lonely voice that somehow stands out from the loud noises and rings through the hallways hauntingly, like a nightingale’s solitary ballad in the night. He gets out of the tub and gets dressed, following the song that guides him through the hallways of the Cintran castle. 

Geralt arrives at a barred wooden door. The door and the metal bars look sturdy enough, but the corner of the door has grown mouldy, and the bars rusty. Geralt can hear the song through the door, “But the story is this,  he’ll destroy with his sweet kiss,  his sweet kiss.  The story is this,  He’ll destroy with his sweet kiss.” 

Geralt’s heart clench at the lyrics. Nausea swirls unrestrained in his empty stomach. Half-formed regrets and memories swimming within his head. Geralt’s heart felt as if his blood has become tar as it struggles to keep a steady beat. He feels like drowning, but he’s not even in water. It just hurts. It hurts to breathe. It hurts to think. Geralt fishes out a tiny pin and picked at the padlock. Without much effort, the tarnished lock falls to the ground. 

Geralt gingerly pushes the door open. He is scared to look. If he is correct, and it is who Geralt thinks it is, Geralt wouldn’t know what to say.

Geralt’s heart races as he rushes through the woods. It is rare for a witcher’s heart to beat that fast, but Geralt can’t be bothered to be concerned about it now. He has places to be, damn it, and out of all the days in the month, today has to be the day he gets held up by training. Judging by the position of the moon, it has to be about an hour past midnight. 

“Geralt!” Geralt turns around at the sound of someone calling out his name. “You’re late.” 

“I know, I’m sorry,” replies Geralt, finally slowing down and smiling as he spotted his merman, Jaskier. 

Jaskier is sitting by the river, legs dangling over the edge, completely unclothed. Above Jaskier and Geralt, a full moon hangs over their heads. And every full moon, mermen turn into human until the sun rises again. Ever since Jaskier has told Geralt about this, Geralt has been extra excited to see Jaskier on nights with full moons. When they were younger, they used to run around the woods and look for fireflies, night blossoms, and Geralt would even teach Jaskier some fighting skills just in case he needs them. Similarly, Geralt has been waiting for tonight for forever. 

“So, what are we doing tonight?” asked Jaskier as Geralt sits down next to him. 

“I don’t know, take a walk?” says Geralt. 

“Hmm, I want to play this human game. I don’t know what it is called, but it’s like, we ask each other questions and you have to answer it as truthfully as possible,” explains Jaskier. 

“That’s just talking. Sounds boring,” Geralt grunts, “We should do something you can only do with legs!” 

“Please, Geralt? begged Jaskier, looking at Geralt with a face he knows will soften Geralt. 

“Fine. You start first,” says Geralt, rolling his eyes. 

“Let’s see. What is your favourite colour?” asks Jaskier, his face lighting up. 

“Blue. What is your favourite food?” Geralt continues. 

“Catfish. Um, where - who is your best friend?” asks Jaskier. 

“You’re cheating, Jaskier, you know it’s you.” Geralt answers, rolling his eyes. 

“Go on, then, what insightful questions do you have for me, philosopher Geralt?” teases Jaskier.

“Where is your favourite place?” asks Geralt, tilting his head as he looks at Jaskier’s bright blue eyes. 

“I really like the coast. Have you been to the coast?” asks Jaskier. “Never.” “I’ve been there once. The ocean is just - just something you love, I guess, something you respect,” says Jaskier, looking off the distance as if he can see the coast in front of him if he looks hard enough. “The ocean is easily as beautiful as it is dangerous. I think it’s fascinating how the waves softly crash against the rocky beach, their curling fingers brushing each stone with a gentle caress as the wind ushered them gently towards the shore. I love the way the sun shines off the rippling water, its golden light warped in the twisted, glass waves. I can’t find words to capture its mysterious majesty, you just have to see for yourself.” 

Geralt looks at Jaskier thoughtfully. Through Jaskier’s words, Geralt feels as if he is living vicariously through Jaskier’s experience - the freedom, the weightlessness, the liberty. 

“Tell me more about the coast,” asks Geralt. 

“Well, what more is there to say?” continued Jaskier, “I guess, the water tastes funny.”

Geralt leaned forward and captured Jaskier’s lips. This kiss is different from the other ones that they have shared. Amidst the passion, the innocent first love, there is a hopefulness to it. Through the kiss, Geralt wants to show Jaskier how much he wants to spend the rest of his life with Jaskier, despite how impossible it will be. Their lips move in sync, hands exploring each other’s body, as Geralt pushes Jaskier back gently until Jaskier is lying on his back and Geralt is on top of him. 

“Your heart, Geralt, it’s racing,” Jaskier says breathlessly, his hands over Geralt heart. 

“I love your voice, Jaskier, but please, just - just shut up for once.” 

The kiss is filled with so many emotions - love, admiration, hopefulness, and so many other more which Geralt doesn’t even have the words for. Geralt bites at Jaskier’s lip gently, before kissing his jawline, his neck and his collarbone. Jaskier gasps, which only encourages Geralt more. The broke the kiss briefly so that Geralt can take off his leather armour and his shirt, leaving him bare-chested. Jaskier places his hand on Grealt’s chest once again, his gentle fingers ghosting over some faint scars that decorate Geralt’s toned body. Jaskier’s cold fingers give Geralt goosebumps but in a good way. Geralt suspects that Jaskier doesn’t even realise what his touch does to him. But what Geralt does know, is that his touch is doing something to Jaskier. He can feel Jaskier’s erection brushing against his lower abdomen. Geralt leaves a trail of kisses down Jaskier’s torso, stopping just on his pelvis. 

“God, Geralt.” Jaskier whimpers. Geralt can feel his own erection growing. Immediately, he stands up and takes off his pants, allowing his cock to spring free. The sight of Geralt completely naked is driving Jaskier crazy, the twigs and rocks digging into his backside are long forgotten. 

Geralt smirks at Jaskier, slowly growing cockier. He reaches between Jaskier’s legs and fondles Jaskier’s balls. Jaskier reacts to Great touch instantly, lifting his hips to get more contact, more friction. Geralt’s touch extends to the base of Jaskier’s cock, earning a moan from Jaskier. 

“Feels good?” asks Geralt, and Jaskier only answered with a whimper followed by a moan, which Geralt takes as an affirmative. With one hand stroking Jaskier’s cock, Geralt strokes his with his other hand, his breaths growing raspier. Jaskier spreads his legs a little wider and rocks his hips to match Geralt’s rhythm. 

Jaskier feels a knot growing in his stomach. It feels like fire - spreading and spreading until it has consumed his whole body and his mind until it is the only thing he can think of. Everything became unimportant. There is only Geralt, and pleasure, and this gust of warmth that courses through his veins that is killing him but also making him feel alive at the same time. This moment is too much for Jaskier - the emotions, the feelings, the sensation is unbearably something. There has to be a word that describes this feeling because everyone should have the chance to feel something this strong, this good, and someone must have created a word for it. Jaskier wishes silently that he knows this word, and he can store the memory of this moment in a word, a phrase. 

Jaskier sat up as the feeling continues to escalate. “Wait, Geralt,” Jaskier whispers. 

“Did I hurt you?” Despite his own growing pleasure, Geralt stops all actions completely, scared that he might have moved too fast or hurt Jaskier in some ways. 

“Not at all,” replied Jaskier while sitting up. He kisses Geralt, arms wrapped around his neck, and shifts so that now Jaskier is on top of Geralt. “My turn,” said Jaskier. 

Jaskier kissed Geralt’s jaw and trails his kisses down to Geralt’s cock. He kisses the tip of Geralt’s cock lightly, causing Geralt to lean back and gasp softly. Jaskier continues to kiss down Geralt’s cock, licking the pre-cum that leaks out. Geralt’s soft moans confirm to Jaskier that he is doing something right, which fuels Jaskier’s confidence. He wraps his lips around Geralt’s cock and slowly sinks down until he feels Geralt’s cock hit the back of his throat. Geralt tugs on Jaskier’s hair, urging him to do it again wordlessly. Jaskier repeats his action, sucking on Geralt’s cock until Geralt’s hips starting to buck frantically, his breaths raspier, and he keeps hissing ‘fuck’ over and over again. Geralt grunted loudly as he comes, hot white cum filling Jaskier’s mouth. Jaskier is shocked for a second, but he swallows it all, and his eyes never left Geralt’s face. His cheeks flushed, hair tousled, mouth agape, all because of Jaskier. 

As Geralt comes down from his high, Jaskier crawls back up and kisses Geralt sweetly on his lips, his own tasting of Geralt’s cum. One of Geralt’s hand cups Jaskier’s cheek, the other hand snaking down and pumping Jaskier’s cock. Jaskier immediately moans when Geralt touches his sensitive tip, holding on to Geralt’s shoulders. Jaskier is now straddling Geralt as Geralt pumps his cock in increasing speed, and the only reason why Jaskier didn’t lose balance is that he is holding onto Geralt’s shoulders very tightly. Jaskier turns into a moaning mess, which to Geralt, is an absolutely perfect sound. Geralt wishes that whatever he is doing is making Jaskier feel as good as Jaskier made him feel, and Jaskier’s face, twisted with pleasure, assures Geralt. Jaskier comes not long after, his whole body shaking, his nails digging into Geralt’s shoulder. Geralt swears Jaskier’s voice could have made him come again. 

They lied on the ground for a long time that night, holding hands, and talked about everything.  

“What will you do after you become a witcher, Geralt?” asks Jaskier.

“I don’t know, probably go to different places, wherever the monsters are, and just, keep doing that until I can’t, I guess.” 

“Come to the coast with me.” Jaskier rolls over and props up on his elbows, looking down at Geralt. 

Geralt smiles at Jaskier. Something in Jaskier’s look tells Geralt that he isn’t joking, and Jaskier is inviting Geralt to spend their future together. Jaskier’s bright blue eyes have never been so certain, so heartbreakingly optimistic. 

“We’ll go to the coast,” Geralt replies, reaching up to kiss Jaskier, “I’ll be done with whatever the fuck training that has left by the next full moon. Then I’ll see you at midnight, and we’ll leave and never look back. We’ll head to the coast.” 

This is the first time Geralt notices that when Jaskier smiles, the corner of his eyes wrinkles a little bit, and his blue eyes curves into crescent moons. 

“Deal,” whispers Jaskier.

#geraskier #geraskier smut #geraskier imagine #geraskier oneshot #geralt #jaskier #witcher #the witcher #witcher netflix #netflix #the witcher netflix #geralt of rivia #geralt x jaskier #geralt imagine #geralt of rivia x jaskier #geralt of jaskier imagine #jaskier imagine #jaskier x geralt imagine #jaskier x geralt of rivia imagine #geralt witcher #the witcher geralt #witcher geralt #witcher jaskier #geralt x jaskier imagine #the witcher jaskier #henry cavill #joey batey

[jehaatiade]

Knight in Tarnished Armor

An Ezra x OFC fic

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Violence, blood, description of injuries, drug misuse.

Summary: Ezra makes a new friend under fortuitous but less than fortunate circumstances.

“Eight men,” Ezra mutters to himself as he slogs through the hip-high fronds of ferns heavy with sporangia. “I came to this hellacious veridian globe with eight men. Fourteen days from planetfall, and how many of them are left? Not a one. Just me.” 

He kicks a fallen log in passing, trying to vent his frustration. The rotten wood crumbles unsatisfyingly under his boot, and tiny pseudocrustaceans flee for cover as their shelter is destroyed. “Somehow,” he tells the absconding insectoids, “I imagined being the monster to be more gratifying than that.”

He plods on, moving through the small clearing and back into the dense arboraceous embrace of the forest. “No one to blame but myself, I suppose,” he says, continuing his monologue. “I should’ve known better than to sign on with a crew of kips. But they promised me a twenty-percent stake just to teach them how to dig. That could hardly be a herculean task, could it?”

He huffs out a short laugh at his own foolishness, and almost misses the brief crackle of static from his comm. Almost, but not quite. As he fiddles with the modulation settings, the conversation slowly becomes coherent.

“- told you it was a fifty-fifty chance of the cat blowing, and you said hit it!” A woman’s voice, irate, is the first to come through clearly.

“I swear to Kevva, woman, if you don’t fix this then I’m gonna carve you up like an aurelac sac and use your guts for fishing line,” a man growls back at her.

“Oh, fuck you!”

Ezra keys his transmitter, cutting in before the man can reply. “Loath as I am to interrupt a spirited debate, I could not help overhearing your dilemma. It so happens I have some mechanical equipment I am seeking to exchange for supplies.”

“Get the fuck off our channel, floater!” the man yells.

“What is your problem, Pásovec? You’re gonna tell somebody who might have parts we need to get lost just because you’re in a bad mood?” the woman asks. “You’re welcome to join us, friend. We’re at eight-oh-four point fifteen by thirty-seven point twenty-” The number is cut short by a yelp. “What are you doing? Get off me!”

“I have had it with your big fucking mouth,” Pásovec snarls. His statement is quickly followed by a cry from the woman. Ezra’s already at eight-oh-four point one by thirty-six point five; he can make it to their location in under three minutes if he drops his heavy supply-filled pack. “And your bleeding fucking heart!” Pásovec continues. Another cry, this one a short, high scream of pain. “You’re useless to me, and I’m sick of you using up the oxygen I paid for!”

Ezra shoves the pack under the bole of a toppled stump and runs.

The Green has never been more of an adversary than it is now. Vines underfoot grasp at his ankles. Broken branches snatch at his protective suit as he pushes through the trees. Dangling moss leaves protoplasmic ooze in smears across the faceplate of his helmet. Pásovec is muttering in a language Ezra doesn’t understand, but rage needs no translation. Every few breaths, the man’s rant is interspersed with another cry from his victim. Ezra is almost to the site, able to see a small ship through the trees, when her exclamations turn to desperate gasps: “No! No! Get off! No, don’t!”

He skids into the clearing, thrower already drawn, and sizes up what he sees in less than a second: one figure sprawled on the ground, and one figure kneeling on the other’s chest, trying to wrench the other’s helmet from them. He shoots the one on top, and they topple to the side in graceless languor mortis. The violent cacophony over the comms stops abruptly, leaving only the sound of someone hyperventilating.

“Are you all right?” Ezra asks. He holds his position, scanning the clearing for any other crew.

“Y-Yeah.” The woman’s voice belies her claim, shaking like a sapling in a high wind. The figure on the ground starts to leverage themselves into a sitting position, and she grunts with the effort. “You s-saved my life.”

The Green is still, other than the omnipresent dust, with no indication that there’s other living beings within any near distance. Ezra lowers his thrower and starts to approach. “It seemed in my own best interest to assist the individual amenable to trade,” he says as he moves closer.

She gives a sharp bark of laughter, then shudders and makes a noise akin to a sob. “He was gonna kill me,” she gasps. “F-Fuck, I knew he was an asshole but I didn’t th-think he was that crazy.”

“I dare say we have all misjudged someone’s character at some point.” He takes a knee beside the woman, his thrower pistol still in his hand but held casually at his side. She lifts her head to look at him. The inside of her faceplate is smeared with red from a bloody nose that still drips across her lips to trail toward her chin. Beneath the blood, her face is pale. She’s pretty in an angular fashion, especially with those sea-and-sky blue eyes. “Would I be far off the mark to surmise you’d welcome further aid?”

She swallows and shakes her head. “Help me get inside. I’ll make you a- a mutually beneficial proposition, how about that?”

“I do like a bold woman.” Ezra grins, holstering his thrower before he offers his hand to her. “Such a prodigious vocabulary is a marvelous supplement.”

“Oh, fuck you,” she says without malice. She clasps his forearm, and he stands to heave her to her feet. Something in the effort goes awry, alas, and she collapses into his arms with a scream that escapes from gritted teeth. “My knee,” she groans. “I can’t put any weight on it.”

“Don’t fret, now, little bird,” Ezra says, trying to reassure her as he draws her arm over his shoulders. He clasps his arm around her waist, taking as much of her weight as he can. “We’ll have you flying again in no time. Left foot first, now.” Her movement forward on her good leg is more like a hop than a step, but she makes it with only a stifled gasp.

Under mundane circumstances, the walk to the ship’s airlock and the lone step up would be a matter of no more than half a minute. Instead it’s a torturously slow process, punctuated with suppressed sounds of suffering from his new acquaintance. At last, the airlock doors close behind them and the filters begin to cycle.

“You know, you haven’t done me the courtesy of telling me your name,” Ezra says in the dimly red-lit closeness.

She’s still panting from the struggle of motion, and he counts her breaths, reaching four before she answers. “Leda.”

“A fine appellation, heavy with mythology. I myself am Ezra.”

“Ezra,” she repeats. The airlock doors in front of them hiss open, and she gestures forward with a nod of her head. “The med bay’s right there.”

“Then we had best proceed.”

The med bay door opens at a touch of Leda’s hand, and Ezra can’t help but take in the bounty with raised eyebrows. Spotless, sterile, and stocked with enough supplies for years, he can only imagine the amount of aurelac that harvesters would hand over for this level of medical attention. It’s far easier to picture the kind of violence they’d do to get access.

Leda shifts forward when he doesn’t move, listing precariously toward the examination table. Reminded of why he’s here, he helps her put her back to the table and then lifts her bodily to sit on it. She undoes the seals on her helmet, setting it aside, and Ezra follows suit. Free from the confines of the cover, her dark blonde hair just barely brushes her shoulders, and the evidence of her bloody nose is smeared all the way down her throat.

“I’m gonna need your help getting this off.” She pops the pressure seals on her suit, unzipping it down to her belly and shrugging out of the upper half. Underneath, she wears only a white tank top. Ezra notes with appreciation the corded muscles of her shoulders and arms; no mere miner’s mascot, this one. “I can push myself up, and you can pull it over my hips, yeah?”

“A sound plan,” he agrees. He moves closer, unzipping the suit a little more before he grasps the fabric at either side of her waist. “On three?” She nods briskly. He gives the count. On three, she pushes herself up off the cot, creating a few scant measures of space for Ezra to yank her suit down to her thighs. Without being asked, he crouches to remove her boots and free her legs from the heavy tangle. When he looks up, he’s on a level with her knees. He grimaces at the sight; her right knee is already swollen to half again the size of her left, and a dark angry red that heralds catastrophic bruising. “This is bad.”

“No fucking kidding!” she snaps, high and breathless. He raises a single eyebrow and stands once more. “Fuck, I’m sorry. That was uncalled-for.”

He accepts her apology with a nod. “It was hardly the most astute observation I’ve ever made.”

Leda returns his nod before she reaches for an item stored in a case on the wall. He recognizes it when she sets it in her lap: a diagnostor, latest generation, ten leads and a battery life of six months. It’s worth fifty thousand, at least. She unspools the leads from the body of the instrument, placing the unipolar heads on and around her knee gingerly. For the last lead, she pulls up the hem of her shorts to place the head on her inner thigh at her femoral vein. 

Ezra catches himself watching and turns away before she looks up, stepping back and starting to remove his own protective suit. The further he undresses, the more he feels out of place; his clothes are grubby and stained, and he stinks of dirt and sweat. One day I’ll have all this, he tells himself, same as he always does when he measures up against the rich and successful and finds himself falling short. One day I’ll have all this, and we’ll see who’s out of place then.

“Hey, would you do me a favor?” Leda’s question pulls him out of his thoughts.

“I suppose that would be contingent upon the specific request.” Ezra tucks his thrower into the waistband of his pants before he steps out of his boots and sets his suit aside. Turning back to face her, he finds himself trying to measure her up. Is this her ship? Her riches? What woman with this kind of money would come to the Green Moon to grub for more?

“There’s gauze in the first drawer on the right over there,” she says, pointing at the cabinets along the wall. “Would you grab a square and get it damp for me? I’d like to clean up.”

He does as she asks, removing the gauze from its packaging and wetting it with water from a squeeze bottle before bringing it over to her. She thanks him, taking it and starting to remove the drying blood from her face. Still in her lap, the diagnostor beeps quietly to itself as it works. “I find myself overcome with curiosity,” Ezra says as he watches Leda methodically wash her jaw and throat. “This breathtaking craft. Is it yours?”

“No, Pásovec’s,” she answers without the hesitation that would betray a lie. “But when I make it out of here, a few thousand in the right pockets will put the registration in my name.” She meets Ezra’s eyes and gives him a wolfish smile. “I knew one way or another, I was making a fortune on this job.”

“Speaking of a fortune, I believe you said something about a mutually beneficial proposition?”

Leda nods and sets the dirty square of gauze aside. “To borrow your turn of phrase in return, would I be far off the mark to surmise you’re out here on your own?”

Ezra crosses his arms, considering his answer before he gives it. Trusting a stranger in the Green is the surest way to get to Kevva quick. But she’s unarmed, unless she wants to hit him over the head with the diagnostor, and he’s sanguine about his odds of outrunning her. “I might be,” he finally allows.

“This isn’t my first time in the Green, handsome. You wouldn’t be looking to trade components for comestibles if you weren’t neck-deep in some form of bad luck.” She raises her brows expectantly.

Ezra sighs and rubs the back of his neck. Caught out by a pretty face. “The crew I came with got themselves killed, to a man, and got our ship blasted beyond use while they were at it. I’ve been looking to barter aurelac for a ride.”

“I’ve got supplies for twelve weeks, enough for me and a partner,” Leda says. He blinks at her, taken aback by her forthrightness. Sharing information on your supplies is akin to hanging a sign around your neck saying This is how much you’ll get if you kill me. “I can pilot, I can repair, and I can harvest. But the way my knee looks, I think it’s going to be a while before I can dig. I don’t want to leave here empty-handed. And as thanks for saving my life, I’m willing to go sixty-forty in your favor on takings before overhead.”

A smile slowly creeps across Ezra’s face. “I suppose it is my deed that has put you in the market for a new partner. Perhaps it would be only equitable to fill the position myself.”

“Shake on it?” Leda asks, holding out her hand. Ezra clasps it and gives her a firm shake. As soon as he releases her, the diagnostor trills to announce the completion of its task. Leda picks it up and starts to read from the screen: “Grade three medial collateral ligament injury. No surgical intervention required, estimated six weeks recovery time. Son of a bitch.” 

The last, Ezra presumes, is her own judgement. “What do you need?”

Leda huffs and starts to remove the diagnostor’s leads from her leg. “There should be crutches in that locker,” she says, pointing. “I need to get into the workspace and get the printer started on a brace. That’s going to take a couple of hours.”

“Anything else?” he asks as he retrieves the crutches. 

“There’s a cryotherapy unit in the locker two to the left of that one,” she continues. The unit is about the size of a shoebox, but considerably heavier; Ezra tucks it under his arm to carry it and the crutches over to his new partner. Leda sets the unit on the cot and accepts the crutches with a sigh. “And a painkiller shot, in case I fall off these things. First cupboard, bottom shelf, on the right.”

Ezra finds the box of syrettes easily and gives a low, appreciative whistle as he digs one out. “The good stuff. You are exceptionally well-stocked, my friend.”

“When Pásovec hired me, he said to send him a list of supplies. I wasn’t expecting him to buy everything on it. Not exactly an unpleasant surprise, though.” Leda takes the syrette and raises it in a parody of a toast. “Here’s to rich idiots, huh?”

“To rich idiots and the riches they leave behind,” Ezra agrees.

“I like you,” Leda says, and slams the syrette into her thigh with no further ceremony. She gives a groan and rolls her eyes as the medicine dispenses automatically. When the cartridge is empty, she removes it and places it in a sharps bin on the wall. “Okay. I need you to carry this-” She holds out the diagnostor. When Ezra takes it, she taps the case of the cryo-unit beside her. “And this, please.”

“Reduced to menial labor so early in our relationship,” Ezra sighs dramatically as he tucks the unit under his arm again. “This could bode ill for our continued collaboration.”

“Maybe I ought to bat my lashes and say how I find myself in desperate need of a big, strong man,” Leda replies. She shifts forward as Ezra laughs, carefully putting her weight on the crutches. After testing her balance, she moves toward the door, her gait punctuated by the click of the crutches. In the narrow ingress beyond, she turns to the right and limps through another door.

Ezra bites his tongue to keep from whistling again at the workspace. It’s state-of-the-art, more something he’d expect to see in a slick hi-tech zine than in any ship to set landing pads on the Green Moon. In the near corner, a printer large enough to fit a small child in its bay hums quietly to itself. There’s a workbench along the same wall, the space above it taken by shelves of neatly organized bins. Opposite the workbench is a modest kitchen unit, more storage, and a plush-looking L-shaped couch. A sturdy metal table stands in the middle of the room, flanked by plastic-and-steel-tube chairs.

“Do you know how to plug the diagnostor into the printer and tell it to make the recommended brace?” Leda asks, pulling his attention away from the extravagant accommodations.

Ezra eyes the printer. “At a guess, connect the printer’s data input cable to the diagnostor’s cat-six port and hit the big green button?”

“Look at that, beauty and brains.” Leda turns away and starts to click toward the couch. Ezra, in turn, approaches the printer. He’s only just taken the input cable from its slot beside the controls when there’s a thump and a groan behind him. He glances over his shoulder to see Leda slumped on the couch, her injured leg stretched across the cushions. He looks back to his work, but he’s still able to hear her speak, softly enough that he isn’t sure if she’s talking to him or to herself. “I should be more useful. I’m making a bad impression. First day back on the job, my boss breaks my leg and I make friends with the guy who shot him to death. At least I get the ship for my troubles.”

The printer cheerfully beeps confirmation of the design order and whirs to life. Ezra sets the diagnostor down and hefts the cryo-unit before he crosses the room to Leda’s side. “Where do you want this?” he asks.

“Just on the floor is good,” she says, still speaking softly. “I’m sorry, that shot was a lot stronger than I thought it was. I should’ve only done half.”

Ezra chuckles. “Flying high, little bird?” he teases as he pulls the tubing and straps from the unit. Leda sits up with a grunt when he places them in her lap, and starts to wrap the apparatus around her knee. “If you don’t need anything else, I had best head out and retrieve my pack. Won’t take me but a little while.”

“If you want a clean filter, they’re, um-” She gestures vaguely at the storage on the near wall. “Um. Third shelf, on the… left.” Instead of going to grab a filter, Ezra sits on the low metal caf table, watching Leda thread and tighten the straps with the excessive caution of the intoxicated. When she completes the task, he switches on the unit rather than make her lean over to get it. She hisses as the pressure in the tubing increases, the cryo-unit pumping ice-cold gel through the tubes and over her injury. “Thanks.”

“I do happen to have a few inquiries before I go, if you wouldn’t be troubled to resolve them.” Ezra cocks his head and gives a winning smile; Leda glances at him and gives a vague nod before she lays back down. “Now, I would be the first to confess that I rarely lay all my cards on the table in a negotiation, and it is not so much an accusation as a recognition of good business practice when I insinuate you may have done the same.”

Leda only blinks at him. It seems if he wants to take advantage of her brief pharmaceutical-induced vulnerability to interrogate her, he has to pander to her temporarily reduced faculties. 

“What haven’t you told me?” he rephrases. “Do you have other crew?”

“No, it was just me and the asshole. He was convinced there was a deposit near here worth hundreds of millions, but he needed somebody to do the prospecting.” She sighs and closes her eyes. “I figured he might try to kill me if I found the deposit, but I didn’t think he’d try before then.”

“What else? You were arguing when I found your channel.”

“The LXH catalyzer is bust,” Leda says, eyes still closed. “I can put something together to replace it, it’ll just take me a few days. I wouldn’t want to try and break high orbit on it, but it’ll get us up to the transport.”

“And the deposit? Do you know where it is?”

Leda shakes her head slowly. “It was Pásovec’s secret. He had a notebook he always kept on him.”

“Anything else? Anyone going to come looking for Pásovec?”

She opens her eyes to blink up at him for a moment before she shakes her head again. “Nobody knew anything. I’m pretty sure he killed the guy who told him about the deposit.”

“I’ll look for that notebook, then,” Ezra says. “You gonna be all right here on your own? Want me to grab you a thrower in case any uninvited visitors drop in?”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Armory’s over there.” Ezra stands and retrieves a pistol from the locker beside the workbench. When he gives it over to his new partner, she checks the cassette with the swift muscle-memory of a professional. She sets the pistol on her stomach, her hand draped over it with a feigned nonchalance that conceals her readiness to draw. “I might fall asleep before you get back. Just shout when you come in so I don’t shoot you.”

“I will most certainly do that,” he promises.

Leda watches as he moves over to the nearby shelves to search out a new filter. The one currently hooked into his suit is adequate for a few more hours, but being forced to repeatedly purge and re-use the handful of functional filters he salvaged from the destroyed pod has left him with a vexatious persistent cough. A clean filter, fresh out of the packaging, is just what the non-existent physician ordered. “Would you do me another favor?” Leda asks as he starts to comb through the other storage bins to see what else he can find.

“I offer no guarantee but an inquisitive ear.” Ezra delves deeper into one container, digging out a shiny new hunter’s knife with a sheath that should attach nicely to the leg of his suit.

“If you’re going to take care of Pásovec’s body, would you give him a kick in the ribs on my behalf?” The request startles a laugh out of Ezra. “I know he won’t feel it, but it’ll make me feel better.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he assures her as he shoves the crate back into its place.

“Okay,” Leda says quietly. When he glances over at her, her eyes are closed again and the thrower on her belly rises and falls with her slow, even breaths. “I hope you don’t rob or murder me. You seem nice. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

“There’s no call to impugn my honor, now,” Ezra scolds, no more sincerely than she had spoken. “We shook on the deal, didn’t we?”

She smiles faintly. “You’re right. We did.”

(If you liked this fic, the best way to show it is by sending me prompts and requests! Tagging a few friends: @rzrcrst​ @tarrevizslas​ @lannister-slings-and-arrows​ @pascalisthepunkest​ )

#ezra #prospect #jehaatific

[hookedonapirate]

By the Stars

Surprise @gingerchangeling​​, I'm your Secret Santa for @cssecretsanta2k19​​! 

You asked for an order of dark, pirate!Killian, so I did my best to make him dark, I just hope you like how it turned out. The title was inspired by a phrase from your story, Hallowed Be Thy Name, "She said that he was lost. But that he refused ta look up at the sky ta find his way by the stars." It seemed like the perfect title for this story, for even though Killian is a pirate and knows how to navigate by the stars, he still loses his way.

It was so nice to get to know you more (though I was a little paranoid you'd find out it was me 😆). I hope you enjoy! Merry Christmas and happy holidays!

Thank you @ilovemesomekillianjones​​ for beta reading and for all of your help, and @onceuponaprincessworld​​ for being my soundboard and letting me bounce ideas off of you :)

Summary: When the fearsome Captain Hook is hired by the Evil Queen to kill the princess of Misthaven, he is quick to accept. So why does he end up kidnapping her instead?

No curse, no magic.

*Trigger warnings* This story features Dark!Hook and dark themes, including attempted rape (not by Killian), depictions of violence, blood, murder and thoughts of murder. Though this is rated Explicit, there is NO smut, only implied smut and a bit of nudity.

Rated: Explicit

Word Count: 10,232

Also available on: AO3 FF.N

He’s contemplated it many times. More specifically, he’s contemplated how he would do it. Would he wrap his hand around her long, elegant neck and strangle her until snuffing the light from her eyes or would he use the dagger currently secured in his sash to end her life? He encases the hilt with his ring embellished fingers to feel the leather in his grip. If he did use his dagger, what part of her would he aim for? The heart? No, he wouldn’t go for the heart. The thought of going for a woman’s heart, like when Rumplestiltskin had ripped out Milah’s heart, makes him cringe. It makes his stomach twist, makes his heart constrict. No, he wouldn’t go for the heart. Instead, he’d go for the neck. 

As he tightens his grip around the hilt of the dagger and brushes his thumb over the pommel, he contemplates how good it would feel to slice the sharp steel blade through her jugular. How satisfying it would be to watch the bright red liquid spill over her creamy skin. To watch as all the youthful life vanished from her sweet face, as her body fell limp, as all the blood left her body, leaving her skin paler than it already is. 

He’s contemplated the task he’s been endowed with; he’s contemplated it many times. So why can’t he follow through?

Killian Jones is not a good man, he has never hidden that fact nor pretended he was. He steals and murders and does anything necessary to get what he wants, especially if it gets him closer on his path of vengeance. He didn’t earn his rings or his reputation by being a good man. He’s a pirate, the captain of the Jolly Roger, the most feared captain of all the seas. He stole the ship after its former captain, his brother, died while battling in the Royal Navy five years ago. Liam’s death destroyed a part of him that day and ever since then, Killian has led his band of pirates. 

Since then, he’s spent years building his reputation as someone who gets the job done, so why does his current job make him hesitate? Normally he can kill without mercy, normally he’s numb to the emotions that are supposed to come along with taking a life. After watching Liam die in his arms and then holding Milah’s lifeless body, he’s become numb to the world, he’s become dead inside. But for reasons he can't explain, he can't kill the princess of Misthaven. Since the day he laid eyes on her, as many times as he’s thought about it, he just can’t find it within his cold, black heart to kill her. 

He doesn’t even know her, only what he’s learned while being primed by the Evil Queen, and he’s only ever seen her as he stalks after her in the forest or watches her from outside the tavern. He’s grown familiar with the way her long, golden hair blows in the wind as she rides her horse, he’s grown familiar with the sad, lonely look on her face as he watches her at the bar while she’s wearing a long dark cloak, disguised as just another peasant to the patrons. He’s grown familiar with how feisty she gets when the sailors have had too much to drink and get handsy with her. He’s seen her slap a few in the face or throw her drinks on them. What a waste of perfectly good drink, but then again, the satisfaction of watching the fierce princess stand up for herself and give the sailors what’s coming to them is well worth it. It’s just too bad he’s never had the good fortune of interacting with her. 

Part of him wonders why the queen wants her dead in the first place. He understands the ongoing feud between the queen and Princess Emma’s parents; he understands wanting revenge, but still, Snow is not the one who murdered Regina’s lover. So why go after her innocent daughter? This is coming from a pirate who killed a man in front of his wife for calling him one-handed Jones and a man who drowned a sailor for drinking the Captain’s wine. Maybe it’s because she reminds him of himself when he looks at her—like she’s dead inside—and that’s why he can’t find it in him to kill her. His reputation as a merciless pirate captain is at stake, though. Many ships surrender their cargo without a fight because of his reputation, so if it’s compromised, then things will have to get bloody while he repairs his tarnished name.

He can kill the princess, get his gold and be on his not so merry way, or he can leave her be and incur the consequences. He has spied on Princess Emma for a couple of days while his ship is docked in Misthaven, and he has until sunrise to murder her before she leaves Misthaven and marries Walsh, the King of Oz, who is twice her age. If Killian doesn’t murder her, he’ll receive the wrath of the Evil Queen, and then she’ll hire someone else to finish the deed. Unless…

There is one other option, but before he can ponder the thought any further, a familiar face enters the tavern. Seeing the owner of that particular face makes him twitch and fills him with conflicting emotions. It reminds him of the past, both the good and bad memories. Good memories because the man he’s glaring at is Milah’s son, and bad ones because he’s also Rumplestilskin’s son. Baelfire is another person he’s considered murdering so he can finally get his revenge for what Rumplestilskin did to him. He murdered his Milah and took his hand. So it’s only fair that he take the life of Rumplestiltskin’s son in return, right? The only reason Baelfire isn’t dead yet is because he’s Milah’s son.

Although every second he sees Baelfire on this particular night, he becomes more fueled with rage. And not because he’s Rumple’s son, but because he’s engaging Emma in conversation, and she seems to be allowing his attention. 

“Come on, slap the bloody bastard,” Killian growls through gritted teeth. “Or throw your drink in his face.”

But she doesn’t, and instead, she leaves with him after a while. Killian hears Emma chatting with Baelfire when they walk out of the tavern. Her voice is much prettier than he’d imagined, as he’s seen her before but he’s never heard her speak until now. Killian peeks around the building and sees her smiling, although it’s the saddest smile he’s ever seen, and perhaps Baelfire has found a way to get through to her. His father is the master of manipulation, so it doesn’t surprise Killian in the least that his son is too. 

Killian ducks behind the building so they don’t see him as they head toward the forest. Killian swiftly follows behind them, tiptoeing carefully and quietly without snapping any twigs, which isn’t easy when his only light source is the moon and he has to steer clear of the trail Emma and Baelfire are on. He hides behind a tree when they stop somewhere inside the woods. Killian notices they’ve stopped deep enough into the forest where no one leaving the tavern would be able to see them or hear them. He turns around and tilts his head back until it hits the jagged edges of the bark and he waits. If he’s following through with his plan, he needs Baelfire to disappear. 

The air grows eerily silent for a while, he can only hear the hoot of an owl, and he’s not sure why they’ve stopped talking. He thinks he can hear the faint sound of kissing, but he could be wrong.

“Bae, stop,” Emma demands firmly after a minute. 

Killian’s ears perk up as he peeks around the tree. Baelfire has her pinned against a tree a few meters away.

“Oh, come on, we’re just having fun before you leave tomorrow,” Baelfire says, his words muffled by her neck as he kisses her there.

“I said stop!” she cries out again, trying to push him away, but he doesn’t budge.  

Killian can see the frustration in her movements, the amount of force she uses, and he can hear Emma’s dress ripping as Baelfire reaches under her skirts and presses his body into her. She slaps him hard, tears streaming down her cheeks. His heart actually hurts as he watches the scene unfold. It’s one thing seeing her slap sailors in the tavern when she's been groped or disrespected—Killian at least found a bit of humor in it—but now she’s actually being attacked.

Baelfire grows angry, and after soothing the sting in his cheek with his hand for a few seconds, he captures her wrists and presses them above her head, against the tree. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he barks in a menacing tone as he breathes against her cheek. 

Emma turns her head away from him, her features twisted with disgust. “Someone help me!” She continues to shriek until he wraps his hand around her neck and presses her firmly into the tree to silence her pleas. 

“Your screams are useless, there’s no one here to save you. So shut up, you stupid—”

Baelfire’s sentence is cut off by the blade of Killian's dagger when he plunges it into Baelfire’s back. His lifeless body falls to the ground, blood seeping into the dirt and coating the tips of the leaves. “I’m here.” 

He’s never been this close to the princess before, and for the first time, he sees that her eyes are a mesmerizing green as they widen in fear. Emma’s whole body trembles as she gapes at him. 

He once again contemplates slicing her neck, it would be so easy to do, while she’s too frozen in fear and shocked to even try to escape. Whoever would find her and Baelfire’s corpses would think some lurker attacked them in the forest. Only the Evil Queen would know it was Killian’s doing. She would think he was seizing the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, which would be a correct assessment. She would smile sinisterly and be very satisfied with the turn of events. But Killian doesn't care about pleasing her. For some reason, he cares more about the frightened princess’s safety than satisfying the Queen. So he throws the bloodied dagger to the ground next to Baelfire and raises his hands, lifting his gaze to her fearful one. 

“I won’t hurt you,” he murmurs sincerely.

“Why did you…” she stammers, trying to retrieve her voice after almost being strangled to death. She soothes her fingers over her neck, her lovely pale complexion slowly returning to her face. “You didn’t have to…”

“I didn’t have to kill him?” he finishes for her. “Let’s just say I carry a personal vendetta against his father after what he took from me,” he snarls, raising his hook.

Emma stares at the curved steel as it gleams in the moonlight, growing even more wide-eyed and frightened. “You’re… you’re Hook?”

Killian steps close to her, flashing her a cheeky grin. “Aye, that’s my more colorful moniker. So you’ve heard of me, princess?”

Emma tries to step back, but the tree behind her halts her attempt. She reaches behind her, gripping onto the bark underneath her fingertips as though it will protect her from whatever Killian plans on doing to her. “I’ve heard stories,” she replies, her voice shaking. “And apparently, you've heard of me, otherwise you wouldn’t know I’m a princess.”

“I told you, love, you don’t have to be frightened. In fact, I’m here to save your life.”

“One, I’m not your love. Two, what are you talking about?” she demands, narrowing her eyes at him, anger quickly replacing her fear. “You may have rescued me from being defiled by that pig, but I highly doubt he’s a murderer like you. And three, how do you know I’m a princess?” 

“Because I was hired to kill you.” He steps out of her space and offers his hand. “Now come with me before the Evil Queen realizes you’re still alive.”

Emma’s even more confused, her mouth falling agape, her face paling. “What?!”

Killian sighs and looks toward the sky, praying to the gods that Emma will not make this difficult for him. He looks at her again and can't help but get lost in those luminous green eyes. “I’m taking you aboard my ship so I don’t have to kill you. Which means you have two options; we can do this the easy way, and you can come with me on your own... or we can do this the hard way and I can drag you to my ship kicking and screaming. It’s your choice, love.”

Emma scoffs. “You think I’m going with you?! You’re out of your mind!” She shoves him and storms away.

Killian shakes his head and sighs. He should have known she would try to run away. “The hard way it is.” He turns around and quickly follows behind her, scooping her up in his arms and throwing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

She screams and flails her arms and legs, fighting fruitlessly against him, her fists pounding relentlessly into his back. “Unhand me, pirate!” 

“That’s captain to you. Captain Killian Jones at your service.”

~*~

Emma opens her eyes to the light of the sun pouring into the window and finds herself in a warm bed with soft silk sheets and fluffy pillows. At first, she mistakes it for her bed but once her eyes adjust to the light in the room and she sees a wooden ceiling instead of the stone one of her parent’s castle; she knows she isn't in her room. The bed sways slightly from side to side as if she’s on a boat, but that's impossible. What boat is she on? Her brows knit in confusion as she sits up with an urgency her brain isn't quite prepared for, and she gets a little dizzy and cradles her forehead in her palm. She can't even remember the last time she was on a boat; it must have been years ago, when she was merely a child. 

After the sleepy fog filters from her brain, she looks around the room. The furniture is sparse and consists of a desk, a bookcase, a hammock and the bed she’s currently sitting in. This is not her family's ship, and once she takes a moment to take in her surroundings, images of last night flash through her mind. 

Running off to the tavern once again even though her parents forbid it. Thoughts of escaping Misthaven so she didn’t have to marry a man twice her age. Meeting Baelfire. Having a decent conversation with him. Leaving with Baelfire. Being attacked by Baelfire. A pirate saving her. But not just any pirate. Captain Hook. She remembers him taking her to his cabin and tying her to the bed with rope so she wouldn’t murder him in his sleep.

Emma peers down at the inside of her wrists, which are no longer restrained, and runs her fingers over the red marks where she had struggled to escape. She’d been hoping it was all a bad nightmare, but it was all real. The fearsome Captain Hook had taken her.  

She’s heard stories from her parents about him and the Jolly Roger that always make her shiver as if it's a cold winter's night. Then she remembers Hook telling her the Evil Queen paid him to murder her, but instead of murdering her, he wanted her to go with him. She remembers laughing in his face, right before he picked her up and carried her to his ship. Which means she is now on the Jolly Roger. With Captain Hook.

Emma's eyes widen as her heart flits with panic. Why would he save her life? He’s a pirate and a murderer. He stabbed Baelfire easily and effortlessly while his eyes were devoid of any remorse. So why would he spare her life? Emma shifts, attempting to get out of bed, but a figure appears in the doorway. A figure wearing a pair of black boots, leather trousers and a crimson red vest. Her gaze travels up his lean form, appreciating the dark hair poking out of his chest, scruff on his chin and cheeks, the ocean-blue eyes and the dark, unruly hair atop his head that's been ravaged by the sea winds. Emma immediately recognizes him as the man who took her last night. “You… you kidnapped me,” she snaps, glaring at him, the anger she’d felt last night bubbling in her chest.

The toothy smirk he gives her increases the detestation she harbors for him, and she wants to smack it off his face. “Good morning to you, too, princess.” He walks into the cabin carrying a tray of food, wine and a chalice and sets it on the bedside table. 

Emma shuffles across the bed, putting more distance between her and her abductor as he pours wine into the chalice. He tries to offer it to her, but she refuses to drink it. “It’s probably poison,” she accuses sharply.

He frowns at her. “I told you I would not harm you, didn’t I?” 

“If you aren’t set to harm me, then why did you kidnap me?!”

He sighs and sets the cup on the table. “I could have killed you instead,” he points out, as though it makes up for what he’s done. “But I didn't, and here you are, alive and well, with all of Misthaven thinking you’re dead.”

“They think I’m dead?” Emma shrieks. Her parents? Her brother? They must be devastated. Her heart cracks at the thought, eyes welling with tears.

“Aye, I had to tell the Evil Queen you were dead so she didn’t come after you. I burned Baelfire’s corpse until there was nothing left, and I told her it was your body I burned.” Hook throws a pile of clothes on the bed and sets a pair of boots on the floor in front of the bed. “Some clothes for you, Your Highness,” he says with a snide grin, “so you can change out of your tattered dress.”

“But why… why didn’t you just kill me?!” she huffs and grabs the clothes, chucking them at him angrily. 

He dodges them and frowns at her. “Your beauty is more impressive than your aim.” 

She responds by reaching across the bed to grab the chalice full of wine, and hurls it at him. He dodges that as well, and it bounces off the wall, its contents splattering the wall and the floor. He grits his teeth, impatience flaring in his eyes. “I’m beginning to ask myself the same bloody question,” he grumbles while picking up the clothes and placing them on the bed. “Just be thankful I spared your life, princess.” 

She eyes him suspiciously as he bends over to pick up the chalice from the floor. “Why would you? You must have a reason. My parents say you’re a dirty pirate and a cold-blooded killer without a shred of mercy.”

He scoffs as he curtly sets the cup on the table. “Ah, so you think you know me just because you’ve heard some tales? Please enlighten me and tell me more, because I’m dying to know what the hoity-toity princess thinks of the dirty pirate. The pirate who saved your life, not to mention saved you from being defiled outside the tavern and saved you from entering a loveless marriage with King Walsh.”

“Oh, please tell me what a selfish brat you think I am,” Emma retorts as she springs from the bed and steps into his space. “You think because I’m a princess you know everything about me, right?”

He shrugs. “You’re somewhat of an open book.”

“Oh, really?” she asks, irritation lacing her words as she crosses her arms. “You read minds, pirate?”

“I told you, it’s Captain. And I know you’re unhappy. I could see it when I saw you in the tavern.” His voice is surprisingly soft, but it does nothing to change how she feels about him. Annoyance. Anger. Hatred. The list goes on and on.

Emma rolls her eyes. “Please, that’s called spying, not perception.”

“Eyes are the windows to our souls, Emma. They don’t lie.”

“Oh really? And what do my eyes say?”

“That you’re unhappy, that you don’t want to get married to a man old enough to be your father. You’re too lovely to belong to an old man, anyway.” 

“And who should I marry then, hmm?” she challenges, cocking an eyebrow.

Tilting his head, he takes a step toward her and she tries to step back to get away from him, but the edge of the bed stops her. Killian grins and moves in, closing the distance between them. She swears he’s purposely stealing all the air from her lungs. “Perhaps if you had a lusty young lad between your legs, it might take the sadness from your eyes.”

Emma’s face flushes crimson, his husky words vibrating through her. “You forget yourself, pirate!” she warns.

He leans in closer until their lips are only inches apart and speaks in a low voice, “I’m willing to bet you’ve never had a man between your legs.” He licks at his lips as his eyes fall to hers, this time whispering so close she can taste his breath. “Perhaps we should change that.”

Fear surges through her as it did when Baelfire attacked her. She lifts her hand to smack the filthy smirk off his face, but he firmly catches her wrist and lifts the back of her hand to his lips, holding her startled gaze as he places a kiss to the center of her skin.

His lips scorch her skin, the kiss sending a painful ache through her. “Love, you and I both know you didn’t really want to marry Walsh. We both know I did you a favor in more ways than one, so stop pretending like you hate me and show a little gratitude.” He rubs the back of her hand with his fingertips, where his lips had touched and he releases her before walking away. “Now eat your food before it gets cold and get dressed. Then meet me on deck,” he says in a commanding tone, shutting the door behind him to give her some privacy.

Emma is too stunned in her spot, she can’t even throw a tantrum. She can’t huff and puff and yell out her frustrations. Instead, she stands there as stiff as a statue and a little turned on if she’s being honest. She certainly isn’t imagining Hook’s body between her legs as he drives into her. Certainly not. She doesn’t know whether to hate him or...

She shudders at the thought and once she’s able to reassemble herself, she picks up the clothes from the bed and dresses. The outfit comprises a white button-up shirt with long sleeves and black leather trousers, but the fabric smells like the sea and rum and Hook, and she’s definitely not appreciating his scent. The clothes may be too big and baggy on her, and they’re definitely different from the usual attire she’s accustomed to, but she thinks she can get used to them. She hates wearing dresses and corsets. Emma eats her breakfast begrudgingly, deciding it's not poisoned—if he wanted her dead, he would’ve killed her by now—and tugs on his big, heavy boots before she makes her way to the deck.

As she ascends the steps, she hears Hook speaking with one of his men. 

“We’re sailing to the island of Crete to sell the princess to the highest bidder. She’s a virgin so she’ll be worth a pretty penny.” 

Emma’s blood bubbles under her skin. He had saved her life just to sell her at the slave market?! She’s heard enough. Full of rage, she bursts through the cabin door and storms up to the deck, sprinting to the rails of the ship, but before she could jump overboard, two hands grasp her tightly and haul her back on deck. She squirms in the arms of two pirates as they keep her from attacking the captain who seems to find amusement in her rage. 

“You bastard! I’d rather die than be sold as a slave!”

“Looks like you got yourself a tigress,” one of them comments with a hearty chuckle.

“Settle down, love, we won’t hurt you,” Hook says in a soothing voice. Like that’s supposed to comfort her.

Emma scoffs. “You’re just going to sell me off is all.” Her features twist in disgust. “My parents were right, you’re nothing but a dirty pirate.”

She can see the anger spiraling through him as he steps into her space. “In case you haven’t noticed, princess, I am just a dirty pirate, and you’re just another mouth to feed. We, pirates, do what we can to survive. At least you’ll be sold somewhere where the Evil Queen can’t find you.”

Her eyes grow wild, rage cracking through her soul like a lightning bolt. “You think that makes it better?! That I should be grateful you saved me, well it doesn’t! I will never thank you, you bastard!” She spits in his face. “Go to hell!”

Hook grits his teeth and wipes off her saliva, flinging it to the floor and wipes his hand with a handkerchief. She expects him to retaliate but he doesn’t and instead instructs his men to escort her to his cabin to cool down.

But Emma refuses to calm down. She refills the chalice with wine and gulps it down, hoping to keep her body from vibrating with rage.

~*~

As the Jolly coasts smoothly and steadily, rocking gently on the waves, Killian debates with his conscious—something he rarely does. He has to continually remind himself that selling the princess is the best decision. Once Rumple finds out his son is gone, and that Killian is responsible, he’ll be after him. Emma’s not safe on this ship. If the Evil Queen discovers she’s here, she’ll kill her. And he can’t let that happen. So is it better to sell her off, somewhere far away, where she’ll be safe from the Evil Queen, and from himself, or to let the Evil Queen enact her vengeance against Snow? He’s not sure, and he looks out toward the stars for some kind of answer as they glitter in the vastness of the dark sky. 

Emma hates him, but he’d rather her hate him than have her dead. But why is he taking such measures to keep her alive? Maybe it’s the fire that burns strong within her or maybe it has to do with how much he wants her. She’s so beautiful and brave and she’s developed a high tolerance for the situation in a small amount of time. 

She is captive on his ship, yet she helps out with the chores voluntarily. And she gets along with his crew. Although he has yet to see her wield a sword, he knows she’d make a fine pirate. But he doesn’t trust her enough yet to be sure that she won’t murder him in his sleep. So he ties her to the bed at night while he sleeps in his hammock.

“So beautiful.”

Her lovely voice pulls him from his thoughts, and he looks over from his helm to see the princess gazing out into the starry night with a silvery moon perched big and bright in the sky. “Very beautiful,” he murmurs, a small smile taking over his face. But he’s not referring to the stars.

Emma doesn't look at him; she hasn't spoken to him or looked his way much since she discovered his plan, but he doesn't blame her.

She has her arms crossed and is wearing a nightgown that had belonged to Milah. Luckily, Milah was a similar size. He sees the princess shiver, but he’s not certain if she’s trembling because of him or the situation or because she’s just cold. Either way, he pulls off his long leather jacket and comes up behind her to slip it over her shoulders. 

Emma grabs onto the lapels, securing it around her and turns her head slightly toward him, speaking softly, “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, princess.”

When she stops shaking, he breathes a silent sigh of relief knowing she isn't afraid of him, or at least she doesn't appear to be. He wants to wrap his arms around her to provide further warmth and so he can hold her and comfort and tell her everything will be all right, but he doesn’t even know if it will be. Besides, it’s better to keep as much distance from her as possible. She doesn’t need a man like him in her life. She deserves so much better, even if it pains him to admit it. 

“You know, the stars are more than just for show,” he says, standing beside her, gazing over the ocean.

“I know that. I make wishes upon them.”

“What kind of wishes?” he asks curiously.

Emma shrugs. “Well, I used to wish I could travel the world, you know, be away from the castle. Then I was betrothed to Walsh, and I wished I weren’t.”

“It looks like your wishes came true then, love.”

“Yeah, I suppose they did,” she answers solemnly. 

They both know this isn't how she had expected her wishes to turn out. His stomach clenches at the thought. “Then I kidnapped you and you wished you could get away from me?” He can feel her stare burning into his skin as he avoids looking at her. 

“I wished you weren’t selling me, but no, I don’t wish to escape you. I quite like it here on your ship.”

Killian looks at her in surprise, meeting her gaze, and sees the sincerity pooled in her depths. He could easily get lost in her eyes, just as he’s lost his way in life. He can’t believe after all he’s done to her, she still wants to be aboard the Jolly Roger. She is a tough lass indeed. He peels his eyes away, breaking their trance when he realizes they’re both staring at each other, and he clears his throat. “But do you know how to navigate by the stars?”

She shakes her head. “Isn't that what a compass is for?”

“Aye, a compass determines direction,” Killian says as he leaves her side to grab his sextant from near the helm. “A sextant determines latitude and longitude by measuring angular distances, like the altitude of the stars.” Reclaiming his spot next to her, he holds out the instrument, showing her how to align the guiding star with the horizon. “You can read the angle between the north star and the northern horizon,” he explains, pointing to the brightest star in the constellation with his hook while he holds the sextant with his right hand. “So if you’re ever lost at night, you can look up at the stars to find your way.” She takes the sextant and looks through it as he helps her adjust it, not failing to notice how close they are or how her breath catches when their hands brush. The wind blows through her hair, and he picks up her sweet scent as he turns his head to watch her, their cheeks almost touching. Good lord, she’s breathtaking.

“Wow,” she whispers, gazing through the sextant in fascination. “Where did you learn that?”

“I served as a lieutenant in the Royal Navy before I became a pirate. My brother, Liam, was Captain, and this ship was called the Jewel of the Realm.” His eyes darken at the memories and he looks grimly out over the ocean. “Liam, he died in battle and after that... I lost a part of myself.”

“You lost your way?” she asks, even as she already knows the answer.

He nods, flashing her a quick glance before looking up at the sky again. He can’t believe he revealed that much to her, but somehow he feels like a small weight has been lifted from his shoulders. 

Emma hands him his sextant. “It looks like you need this more than I do.”

Killian offers her a weak smile as he takes it back from her.

She yawns and pulls off his jacket, returning it to him as she announces she’s going to bed. “Night, Hook.” 

“Goodnight, Emma.”

He stays in his spot and decides to take a page from Emma’s book and wish upon a star. Killian wishes that he had Liam back, so his wise brother could tell him what to do, to help him find his way again. What he wouldn’t give to hear Liam’s voice again, what he wouldn’t give to hear Liam call him little brother again. 

Killian also makes another wish. He wishes there had been someone there the night he had kidnapped Emma, to save her—someone who could've actually protected her. From the Evil Queen. From him.

~*~

Emma wakes to the booms of cannons being fired and the captain shouting orders to his crew. Panic ripples through her blood, her heart racing as she rushes to catch a peek. Emma gasps when she sees Regina’s ship fast approaching, gliding through the water like silk. Guilt rises in her chest. She knows the only reason why the Evil Queen is after the Jolly Roger is because she’s looking for the princess. Had she discovered Emma wasn’t the one who Killian murdered? Or is she here for Baelfire? Emma’s not sure, but she knows she has to do something to help, rather than cower idly below deck and hope Killian and his crew will defeat Regina’s men. But if she goes out there, they will try to take her. As she returns below deck, she thinks quickly and comes up with a plan. Searching around the first mate’s cabin, she finds exactly what she’s looking for.

~*~

Cannons blaze and muskets fire as the fierce battle rages. The air is thick with smoke, reducing visibility, but both sides continue to fire. Killian wouldn’t be the Captain he is today if he gave up so easily. Besides, he has a princess to protect, and the Evil Queen’s men will have to go through him to get to her. Musket balls, cannonballs and even bolts from crossbows fly from both sides. Blood is spilled, bones broken and limbs severed by the onslaught, but it doesn’t faze him. After years of bloodshed on the high seas, Killian has become immune to the horrors of battle.

“Prepare to fight!” Killian cries as the ship closes in on the Jolly Roger. He looks back at his crew to see the pirates drawing their swords, confident and eager for battle. He glances over when someone stands beside him, sword drawn, and he doesn’t recognize them at first and has to do a double-take, his eyes flickering over her face. He’d recognize those emerald green eyes anywhere. “Emma?! What are you doing?!” 

She’s dressed in the pirate clothes he’d given her, with the addition of a cap pulled below her ears, her blonde hair nowhere to be seen. 

“I want to help. I am well versed in swordsmanship.”

“Go back below deck,” he growls at her. “You’ll get hurt!” The thought pains him more than he’s willing to admit.

“I won’t! I know how to fight, Captain.”

Before he can argue any further, the Jolly Roger is swarmed with enemies, and the sound of metal clashing against metal rings throughout the deck. Killian wants to stay close and keep an eye on her, but that will get him killed quickly. Besides, he doesn’t know if he can stomach the idea of watching, especially if she gets hurt or worse.

“The Queen has sent us for Rumple’s son. Hand him over!”

“He’s not here,” Killian assures them, blowing out a breath of relief.

Emma’s opponent rushes at her with his sword flying high in the air and brings it crashing down. She dodges his attack with a side step but he's quick to recover. With quick speed, he slashes at Emma's stomach, nearly catching her with his sword, but she manages to jump back just in time to avoid being split in two. She fights off several others, sending a few of them overboard, and Killian’s heart swarms with pride. And also relief.

“I knew there was a little pirate in you!” Killian cheers, glancing at her for a second while continuing to fight off Regina’s knights. 

Emma flashes him a cocky smirk. “I told you I can hold my own.” 

“That you can, love,” he agrees as a sword is thrusting at him. He surges backward, but not before the tip of the sword knicks his neck.

When the battle is over, they have won, at least for now; the Evil Queen had retreated. Though Killian had only sustained a minor injury, several of his pirates are badly wounded. 

The ship surgeon and his apprentice retrieve their dressing boxes to tend to the mortal and dangerous wounds first. There are too many pirates down for them to handle at once, so Emma chips in and tends to the men with simple or compound wounds.

Killian is surprised to see her darting from one pirate to the other, applying pressure on their cuts to stop them from bleeding. She does it so quickly and calmly, he’s sure she’s done this before. 

Once the situation at hand is under control, Killian goes to his cabin to retrieve his flask full of rum. Emma has proved she would make a fine pirate, and the guilt of her fate is weighing heavy on his mind. She’d be a valuable asset to him and his crew, but the problem is, he doesn’t wish this life for her, which is rather contradictory since he’s about to sell her off as a slave. Perhaps he should just grant Emma her freedom and leave her somewhere, hoping the Evil Queen will never get to her, but for reasons he cannot explain, he can’t stomach that idea. And if she stays on his ship, she won’t be safe either. Not from the storms, not from pirate attacks, not from him.  

The rum burns down his throat as he comes close to draining his flask, trying to numb the pain he feels. He thinks the pain is only consuming his heart, but when Emma enters his quarters, she’s studying him with a scrupulous eye and lifting her hand to his neck. Killian’s heart flutters at her touch and he loses a breath as he stares into her gorgeous emeralds while she eyes his neck. Killian shudders at the thought of her kissing him there. It’s not until she removes her hand when he realizes he’s bleeding.

“I need to borrow your flask,” she says, holding out her hand.

Killian cocks a brow at her boldness. “Love, trying to take a pirate’s rum is a way to get yourself killed.”

Emma rolls her eyes and shakes her head, offering a tight-lipped smile. “If you were going to kill me, you’d have done it by now.”

“Fair point,” he chuckles and hands her the flask.

Before he realizes what Emma’s doing, there’s a splattering of rum on his neck and a sting so strong, he hisses and tries to pull away from Emma.

“You’re hurt. Don’t move,” she murmurs and cleans up the wound. Her face is so close to his, he can feel her breath on his skin. He looks up, trying to ignore how warm and soothing her hands are and how they scorch his skin. It’s been a long time since he’s actually enjoyed the touch of a woman.

“You seem to know what you’re doing, love. You took care of my men without batting an eye at the blood.”

“You forget that I live in the same kingdom as the Evil Queen,” she replies gravely, her eyes still focused on her task. “My parents and I have cleaned up many of her bloody messes before. She leaves innocent townfolk either injured or dead wherever she goes.”

“That much I’ve gathered about her. So, tell me something, why would you help me and my crew when we’re sailing to the island of Crete, where we’re selling you to an auction house?”

Emma’s jaw twitches as she looks up from her task to glare at him. “Because my parents didn’t raise an ingrate wretch. Your crew has shown me kindness and hospitality on your ship and I am grateful for that.” 

When Emma’s finished dressing his wound, she hands him his flask, her eyes flicking to his. “All done.”

“Thank you, love,” he says appreciatively, offering a small smile. “You’ve been a lot of help.”

She arches a brow. “So, does that mean you’ll keep me on as a permanent crew member?”

His eyes darken at her question, a solemn look clouding his features. “The Jolly is no place for a woman, love.” He turns around and walks away from her, heading for the cabin door.

“Why not?” she demands stubbornly. “Because of what happened to Milah?”

Killian stops dead in his tracks and closes his eyes, sadness and anger coursing through him. Though he’d gotten his revenge on Rumple, it didn’t make Killian feel any better.

“I found her drawings in the desk drawer, all of them signed by her.”

Killian takes a deep breath, drawing the courage to face Emma again. He turns around slowly, seeing the way Emma looks at him. Not with sympathy, but with a steely look embedded in her lovely features. “She would still be alive if I had never allowed her on this ship, Emma.”

“Hook, you can’t blame yourself for her death. Rumple is the one who took her life, not you.” Emma steps toward him, speaking gently. “You want me to believe you’re only a dirty pirate, but I can see a goodness in you. You loved Milah, you loved her deeply, which means you’re capable of love. You’re capable of being more than a murderous pirate.”

Killian looks at her in awe. “How can you be so sure?” he asks bitterly. “You know the things I’ve done, you know I’m about to sell you off and yet you stand here and tell me I’m capable of being a good man?”

She offers him a small smile. “You’re not the only one who can read people. I just hope one day you’ll realize the type of man you can be. I hope that one day you can find your way again.” With that, she leaves him to ponder his thoughts.

Later that night, he can’t sleep. In fact, he can’t sleep for the next three nights, and the night before they are to arrive in Crete, his mind weighs heavy with regret. He doesn’t wish to send the princess away. He’d even go so far as to say he’ll miss her when she’s gone. But he’d never tell her that. The more distance he can put between her and himself, the better.

From where he lays in his hammock, he can hear Emma huff out a sigh of frustration and hears her shifting in bed, although she’s unable to roll over because she’s tied to the bed. She’s proved to him she’s capable of wielding a sword and he wouldn’t blame her if she tried to kill him in his sleep.

“Can’t sleep, either, love?”

“Tomorrow I’ll be sold as a slave. What do you think?”

“Fair enough,” he sighs. 

“Why can’t you sleep?”

“Because I’m the pirate who will be responsible for selling you off as a slave.”

There’s a moment of silence after that, and Killian slowly climbs out of the hammock, walks over to his bed and begins untying the ropes from Emma’s wrists. 

Even through the darkness, he can see her eyeing him suspiciously. “You’re so sure I won’t kill you in your sleep, huh?”

Killian chuckles. “If you did, it’d be quite ironic—the only person I’ve ever spared is the one to kill me. At this point, I wouldn’t blame you, love. Besides, something tells me it will be a sleepless night for both of us.” Once her hands are free, he soothes his fingers over the inside of her wrists, pressing his lips to each one. Emma’s breath catches and she watches him intently.

“Care for some rum?”

“Please,” Emma replies, practically begging for it.

So he fetches his refilled flask and they both make their way topside. Sitting on the deck and leaning back against the railing, they take turns drinking from the flask.

“So, tell me about Milah,” Emma says, passing him the rum.

Killian is hesitant at first, but with the alcohol flowing through his system and the position he’s in, the position he’s put Emma in, he lets himself be open with her. More open than he’s been with anyone in a long time. The most open he’s been since Milah. And before she came into his life, Liam.

After Killian divulges the painful memories of his past, the conversation flows more easily. They chat about everything. Emma tells him about her life in the palace and he tells her about his adventures at sea. They share a few laughs and they exchange a few smiles, both happy and sad, and a few soft caresses of the cheek that almost lead to a kiss, but Killian refuses to let it get that far. So instead he drops a kiss to the top of her head and lets her rest her head on his shoulder as he wraps his arm around her. 

He can’t help but think how twisted the set of circumstances are. She tended to his wounds, she confided in him and now she finds comfort in him. She trusts him. Even with the knowledge that he’s selling her tomorrow. After her first couple of days aboard his ship, she has been nothing but helpful and kind and compassionate. And as much as he hates to admit this, he’d be a bloody fool to get rid of her. 

Killian looks up to the stars again and makes a wish. This time, he wishes nothing for himself. He deserves nothing this life has to offer. No, what he wishes is for Emma to find happiness. He wishes for her to find something that will permanently take away the sadness from her eyes. Perhaps someone.

~*~

Emma wakes to the bright sun streaming through the window, and she stretches her limbs, taking a moment for her brain to wake when she realizes something. Make that two things. One, her wrists aren't tied to the bed, and two, she’s still on the ship. They were scheduled to arrive in Crete at dawn. And it’s well after dawn. Emma can tell by how big and bright the sun is over the horizon. Emma gets out of bed and retrieves Killian’s compass from his desk to look at it. They’re not even heading toward Crete. They're going the opposite way. Emma’s completely baffled and confused as she goes up to the deck and finds Killian at the helm. 

“Hook, where are we going?” she demands, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s not sure why she is irritated, because they haven’t arrived in Crete, but she needs to know what's going on before she can think about getting her hopes up. “We’re not docked in Crete as you had planned.”

Killian shrugs without even turning his head to look at her. “We’ll be docking soon, but not in Crete.” 

“Then where are we docking?” 

“We’re stocking up on supplies…” He turns his head to look at her, donning a grin, “and you’re getting some proper clothes.”

“Proper clothes for what?”

“Clothes that will fit you, love. If you’re going to be a permanent crewmember on my ship, you will need your own clothes.” He turns away from her to continue manning the wheel. “That is if you can handle it.”

Emma scoffs and places her hands on her hips. “I can handle it. I’ve been trying to tell you that all along.”

He sighs and looks at her, guilt and regret flickering in his eyes as he turns around to approach her. “I know that. I’ve just been too stubborn to listen.”

Emma snorts. “I could've told you that.” 

He flashes a sarcastic smirk and steps into her space, cocking his head to the side. “So what do you say, are you in or are you out?”

She smiles big and wide and launches herself at Killian, throwing her arms around him. “I’m in.” 

Once the shock he feels from her embrace subsides, he smiles weakly and wraps his arms around her, stroking his hand through her hair. “In that case, welcome to the crew, love. Now you’re a true member of the Jolly Roger.”

“Thank you,” she whispers in his ear, squeezing him tightly, “for everything.”

“No need to thank me, Emma,” he murmurs, relishing in the feel of her body pressed against his. But the hug ends too quickly and soon she’s pulling away, leaving him shivering from the loss of her warmth.

Killian informs the others of the new addition and after stocking up on supplies, they celebrate with lots of rum and teach Emma some sea shanties and folksongs. 

“So, you lied to her and yourself,” Smee says to him later that night. They’re watching as Emma laughs and socializes with the other crew members. 

Killian turns his head to frown at him. Smee is the only man Killian would allow to still have his tongue intact after expelling such an accusation. “What do you mean?”

Smee offers him a small smile and a friendly pat on the shoulder. “I think we both know why you let her stay, even if you won't admit it.” He leaves Killian to consider his statement. 

He knows Smee is right, but he’s also right about another thing—Killian will never admit the real reason why he wanted Emma to stay.

~*~

“Bloody hell...” 

Emma smirks, her cheeks tinting with blush as he walks into the cabin. “I take it you like how I look?”

Killian can’t even begin to answer, his eyes still navigating over her form and her curves, his tongue practically hanging out of his mouth. She’s wearing long leather boots, red leather pants and a fitted top with a wide belt that accentuates her breasts. She’d bought the clothes when they had docked to stock up on supplies.

“How do you expect me to captain a ship with you dressed like that?”

Emma shrugs, a sly smirk curving her lips. “You’ll figure it out.”

She leaves the cabin, and he has to pick his jaw up off the floor before he can join his crew on deck. As much of a distraction as she is, he knows he made the right decision to keep her on board.

Later that night, Killian lays in the hammock and Emma takes his bed as usual. He thought he’d be able to sleep that night, but he struggles once again. He almost made a huge mistake, he almost sold her into slavery. How would he have ever forgiven himself? His heart aches at the thought. He’d prefer to say he doesn’t know why he changed his mind, but that would be a lie. He knows exactly why.

“You know, you don’t have to sleep in the hammock anymore. There’s room in the bed.”

Emma’s voice surprises him. He thought she was sleeping peacefully. He cocks a brow and turns his head to look at her from across the cabin. “You’re asking me to join you in bed?”

She props herself up on her elbows so she can see him. “Why not? It’s your bed.”

Killian is a little bewildered and a bit hesitant, but he climbs out of the hammock and strides over to the bed, slipping under the covers. Emma turns on her side, laying her head on the pillow as he stares up at the ceiling. 

“Tell me something, Captain.”

He turns his head to look at her, offering a warm smile. He’s tempted to wrap her up in his arms, but he doesn't want to risk losing his spot next to her. He’s not sure how she would react to such a move. “Call me Killian, love.”

“Killian?” 

The sound of his name rolling off her tongue is decadent, even better than her calling him captain. There’s something much more intimate about Emma calling him by his real name. He has to pause his thoughts for the moment as she stares at him inquisitively.

“What would you like to know?”

She’s silent for a moment as she bites her bottom lip, mulling over her thoughts. “Why didn’t you kill me that night?”

Ah, he should’ve known his original answer wouldn’t be sufficient for her. She is a stubborn lass after all. “Because I’m a pirate, love. I knew I could make additional gold by selling you.”

Emma nods against the pillow. “Mmhmm, that’s what a pirate would say, for sure. So, what’s the real reason?”

Killian lets out a depleted sigh. He also should have known she’s no imbecile. Lying to her is futile. “Because, love, when I saw you in the tavern, you reminded me of someone.”

“Who?”

He gazes into her eyes through the dark, the moonlight providing the cabin with a silver light that spills over the side of her delicate face. Her green eyes shimmer through the darkness and pierce through his damaged soul. “Me,” he answers in a husky, barely audible whisper. 

Emma’s brows furrow with confusion. Then comes the question he knew she would eventually ask him. “So, why didn’t you sell me?”

“Because I knew you were more useful as a pirate on my ship.”

Emma frowns at him in an attempt to pry the truth out of him with a single look.

“Love, if you’re trying to prove that I'm a good man, you're wasting your breath.”

“Why’s that?” she challenges. 

Stubborn lass.

He looks away from her again to avoid her intense gaze. “Because my reasons for keeping you aboard the Jolly are purely selfish,” he admits with a heavy sigh. 

“And how’s that?”

Killian drags a hand over his face. He knows she won't stop questioning him until she gets every ounce of truth from him. He drops his hand to his side and inhales a deep breath before turning on his side to face her. She waits silently and patiently for his answer and he can’t help but bring his hand to her delicate cheek to stroke her soft skin. “Because everyone I have ever cared about is gone. I can’t lose one more person I love.”

Emma is still silent, her mouth opening slightly, but no words form for a whole minute.

“Well, now I know how to silence you,” he teases with a smirk.

“You love me?” she asks, ignoring his joke.

“Aye.” 

His confession surprises her. Hell, his confession surprises himself. He would like to say he’s done a very good job at hiding how he feels about her; at first, he was too afraid to allow himself to feel something for her, but at the end of the day he knows Emma is precious to him. More precious than any gold or jewels or treasure chests. Probably even more precious than the Jolly. He cares about her too much to deny his love for her.

Emma doesn’t respond after that, at least not verbally, and maybe she doesn’t love him yet, but her eyes say much more than her words ever could. And her actions do too when she grabs onto his shirt collar before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. It lasts for a few seconds, or at least he thinks. He can’t register the passage of time as his mind clouds over from the feel of her soft lips on his. Killian is sure he looks dumbfounded as he stares at her and tries to process what had just happened. She kissed him and he’s not sure what he did to deserve her affection. 

His thoughts are interrupted when Emma seals his lips with hers again, combing her fingers through his hair, and his brain turns to mush. His eyes flutter shut as he moves his lips against hers and slides his hand under her cheek, his thumb caressing her skin. He wraps his free arm around her waist, pulling her in and closing the gap between their bodies. He wishes he had his other hand right now so he could grasp onto her hip and stroke her curves, but he really is not in a position to complain when Emma makes no effort to pull away or shove him away in regret and instead deepens the kiss by sweetly darting a shy tongue between his lips. He parts his mouth, granting her access as he emits a deep, approving groan, and sweeps his tongue into her mouth, getting lost in how sweet and decadent she tastes.

The kiss quickly heats up, he just doesn’t realize to what extent until she’s climbing on top of him and straddling him. She leans over to kiss him again, but Killian pushes her away slightly, gazing up at her with a confused expression. “Emma…” he manages, trying to catch his breath. “What are you doing?” He knows exactly what she’s doing, judging by her lustful stare and the way she drags her center against his throbbing erection. And it’s not that he doesn’t want this. He just doesn’t want Emma to regret anything in the morning.    

Emma answers by removing her nightgown and tossing it to the floor. Killian groans as his eyes drink in her beautiful naked form, his manhood hardening even more under her entrance. 

“So gorgeous,” he groans and grabs her hip, fighting the urge to fondle her aching, rose-tipped breasts. 

She dons a little, sly smirk and leans in to whisper in his ear. “I want to see if you were right. I want to see if having a lusty young man between my legs will take the sadness from my eyes.”

His heartbeat quickens, breath catching in surprise. He never thought he'd see the day when she'd take him up on his offer. “I'd be happy to show you,” he growls, swiping his tongue over his lips. The smirk she offers him makes his shaft twitch underneath her core.

“Good.”

Her luminous eyes are practically glowing as he slides the curve of his hook along the inside of her thigh and up her toned, cream-colored stomach, trailing it toward the valley of her breasts. He slowly and teasingly circles one of her breasts with the curved steel, delighting in the way her nipples harden at the touch. When he reaches for her other breast with his hand, brushing his thumb over her nipple to feel the lovely, pliable flesh in his palm, she produces a delicious, skin-tingling moan and leans over him, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down his neck, her tongue darting out to lick him, searing his skin like a branding iron. Heat pulsates through him as she unbuttons his shirt and pushes the fabric away so she can nip at his shoulders before kissing slowly down to his chest. He closes his eyes, sighing softly, enjoying the feel of her wicked lips on his skin as he cups the back of her head in his hand, entangling his fingers in her hair.

Needless to say, he doesn't need further convincing. 

And it turns out he was right. 

When she’s in his arms again, both of them panting and sated, he gazes into those soft emerald eyes. They no longer hold the sadness they did when he first laid eyes upon them. She looks content. She looks happy. He'd like to think it’s because of their tryst, but perhaps the sadness had slowly dissipated since the night he’d kidnapped her and took her aboard his ship.

Killian kisses her forehead and laces his fingers through hers, his heartbeat slowly abating as she lays her head on his chest.

To think, when he first saw her, he had been debating with himself about whether or not to carry out the Evil Queen’s orders and snuff the light from Emma’s eyes; now he has snuffed the sadness from them. 

Many moons later the sadness is permanently gone from her eyes when she gazes upon their wee pirate. She cradles Liam in her arms while singing him lullabies her mother had sung to her when she was a young princess. 

Killian’s heart warms at the sight and he presses a gentle kiss to each of their foreheads. Looking to the stars, he thanks each one for the precious gifts he doesn’t even deserve but loves with all his heart nevertheless. 

He had once wished someone would save Emma from himself; who knew she’d save him? Who knew she'd help him find his way again? Now he only wishes to protect her and their son from everyone else.

#gingerchangeling #cssecretsanta2k19 #cs ff #cs secret santa #csss2k19 #captain swan #heed the warnings before reading! #dark!hook #pirate!killian #princess!emma #by the stars #my fic

[extraordinarilyirrelevant]

Back again with my bullshit!

Like I don’t even know what to say for this crack-iest of crackfics. It started out with me wondering how Kakuzu would be as a kid and wondering if he’d still be as obsessed with money as he is in canon, me thinking up that whole scene of Kid kuzu explaining how tax works to Hidan and then evolved into:

‘Kid kuzu would totally still be the adult with the man child Hidan’ and then BAM, this happened

That’s why you’ll notice the first part I refer to Kakuzu as his name and not Kid kuzu as I do sometime in the middle, it started out as a draft, me just putting my thoughts to paper and then crafting a story behind it. I mean I could quickly change it but shut up

That’s ALSO why it’s never stated that Hidan wants to get closer to Kakuzu until like the kid kuzu section, but what can you do? (see shrugging gif above)

Summary: through reasons not explored, Kakuzu somehow turns into a kid. Pain gives them time off until they fix things Hidan’s left to look after him

----

Hidan was scrutinizing the map pain given him with intense focus. Apparently, there was a empty house of one of Akatsuki’s suppliers that was willing to let the two use his estate that he only used on business trips outside his nation, located in Iwagakure they had quite the walk to get there from amegakure

The two would be station there until Kakuzu’s underlings got information on how to reverse this jutsu and turn the miser back to normal

The miser in question, was… well not himself. Even looking at the kid was weird, the taki missing nin was no longer his opposing and menacing self. He barely reached Hidan’s stomach and had short hair with plain old clothes, and don’t get Hidan started on those eyes-

“Woah!” Hidan yelped in surprised as he nearly tripped over exposed root sticking out of the ground. He only managed to save face thanks to small hands grabbing his cloak 

“Every good ninja is aware of their surroundings” Kakuzu stated as a matter of fact, sounding quite unimpressed by Hidan’s slip up “What? Can’t multitask?” Kakuzu asked in a slightly mocking tone

“This fucking map!” Hidan snapped, stopping his urge to rip the damn thing in half “It’s fucking confusing as all hell, I can’t tell where the fuck we are or where we’re suppose to go!” He ruffled his silver hair in frustration when Kakuzu wordless snatched the thing away from him

“And that blasted leader wasn’t any help at all” Hidan grumbled in a foul mood “Go where the trees form a natural path” He mocked the instructions given to him “Fucking atheist should’ve at least pointed me in the right direction, I swear to Jashin I’ll curse him one day”

Hidan haltered in his step when Kakuzu suddenly changed directions

“The hell are you going?”

“The right way” He answered simply as he jumped up into the trees

“Oi! Wait up!” Hidan called out as he jumped in after him, and was forced to follow after the boy as he didn’t relent or stray from their new path

----

Hidan panted as he looked down at the house they’d be staying in, It was rather large and spacious, tradition down to the secluded pond with a Rock Waterfall, with bonsai tree on either end of the yard

Kakuzu was the first to hop into the yard, landing near the stone path leading into the house. Hidan followed suit and continued looking around, catching a enclosed enclave situated between the house’s structure. It was a damn nice place

Entering, it was traditional as tradition got with Tatami mats covering the expansion of the floor save for the wooden entrance where one was meant to take off one’s shoes. Kakuzu proceeded in, respectfully taking his shoes off and getting acquainted with their new living space for the time being; only briefly considering ransacking the place of it’s goods and pawning them off to get more money, before he reminded himself that he frequented business with this man and that it’s be unwise to tarnish that relation

Hidan stormed past him in excitement, Kakuzu noticing with distaste that the zealot didn’t bother showing the proper pleasantries of taking his shoes off. Sighing before opening a room up to find a single lone table accompanied by cushions adorning the floor, eating place he noted before closing the sliding doors

Walking down the hallway further, Kakuzu wanted to find the washroom to shower before heading to bed, it was a long journey to Iwagakure and the duo travelled nonstop for two days just to get here

At least this house was relatively secluded from any town or village, less people aware of their stay the better

“Kakuzu!” Hidan called out for him, making his way over to where the voice came from, he found Hidan in the bedroom “Look at that bed! It’s like fucking royalty!” He exclaimed as he jumped onto the big cushion-y bed. Nearly being devoured by it when he sank in before he sprung back up to land just before Kakuzu

“And their bathroom isn’t to shabby either” Hidan smirked that smirk that always managed to piss Kakuzu off “Want to take a bath together?”

Kakuzu blanked at that

“Hidan?”

“Yeah?”

“Say something that disgusting again, and I’ll drown you in the pond to feed the koi fish” Kakuzu threatened seriously to which Hidan only snickered “Fucking relax heathen, didn’t you bath with your parent growing up? I mean you’re a kid now. I won’t exactly be looking forward to seeing anything down there”

Although Hidan had a valid point, it still irked Kakuzu making his blood boil “I can manage on my own. Just go to bed, you can shower tomorrow morning”

“Oi!” Hidan yelled catching his attention “You’re the brat now got it, whatever I say goes!”

“That logic is as deluded as you” Kakuzu mused as he entered the bathroom and locked the door, ignoring the shouts of protest outside, opting to take his clothes off and start his shower

----

----

“I thought everyone knew people with higher taxable incomes are subject to higher tax rates, and people with lower taxable incomes are subject to lower tax rates?” Kid kuzu seemed legitimately confused that this wasn’t common knowledge “Your tax bracket is based on “taxable income”, which is your gross income from all sources, minus any tax deductions you may qualify for” He explained while going through the finance sheets with minimum difficulties, only occasionally pulling out a calculator to punch some numbers in before scribbling down some more numbers

Kid kuzu sighed “A tax deduction is a dollar amount you can subtract from your taxable income. The lower your taxable income, the lower your tax bill” the boy explained further when Hidan looked although he were speaking a foreign language “Being an adult I figured you’d have at least the bare minimum knowledge for this sort of thing, but I guess I was expecting too much”

“Listen here you little shit, I denounced material crap the moment I devoted myself to Jashin-sama! Whatever I need, I kill for it” Hidan went to jab his chest only for a small hand to catch the appendage with ease, bending it enough to strain muscles in a wordless threat of breaking the damn thing should Hidan do anything else

“Jashin sounds like the god of poverty” He stated bluntly as he threw Hidans hand back at him and closed his little book before setting it aside and standing up “I find religion to be a waste of time, it certainly doesn’t pay bills. Now if you’d excuse me, I’m going outside” Kakuzu explained as he opened the sliding door leading outside, taking a book with him as he hopped into the gated backyard

“Where are you going?” Hidan asked, peaking his head out to see the little fucker as he made his way to the shade of a tree to sit down and start reading in silence

Hidan growled as he hopped into the backyard too, hands on his hips as silence stretched between the two. Kid kuzu seemingly content to read in silence “What are you doing?” Hidan asked annoyed

“Don’t ask questions with obvious answers” Kakuzu snarked back at him without skipping a beat “But I guess someone as stupid as you never heard of it; it’s called ‘reading’.” All without looking up from his book

“I get that you smartass, but why the hell did you bother coming out here for?” At that Kakuzu looked up at him, his green eyes (alarmingly normal with the absence of red sclerae) before cocking a brow in silent question

“You could’ve easily read inside” Hidan pointed out

“Habit” He answered curtly

“Growing up in Takigakure a epidemic of sorts spread, and my mother was bed ridden. She was the superstitious type and wouldn’t want me near her in fear that she’d infect me with this unknown illness plaguing our village. Sounded like rubbage to me, but she kept pestering me about it” Kakuzu shrugged and let his shoulders sag some as he relaxed against the bark “So whenever I wasn’t keeping up with our financial situation for us, I’d go outside to read” wordlessly gestured to the book

Hidan couldn’t believe he was doing this, but if it meant getting closer to Kakuzu it was worth a shot. Perching in a crouched position to get on the smaller boys level, Hidan sighed as he ran a hand through his silver locks before asking “And how did that… make you feel?” Even to him it sounded awkward as all hell, he almost regrets even asking until Kakuzu simply shrugged

“My mother always kind of annoyed me, she was weak willed and had serious insecurity from father leaving. So she tended to smother me” Kakuzu recalled “Although I worried for her health as many kids would, I found interest in the adult world. Money was fascinating to me, even as a kid. It was the most powerful force the world had”

“What do you mean?”

“With money you could do anything. Money had the power to save or ruin lives. Take my mother for example, because our money was going into paying off our property, we hardly had any left for her. So when she became ill, she couldn’t get the proper medical treatment she required and died because of it. Money and our lack thereof killed her” he answered in a bored tone as he flipped the page

Hidan wasn’t one to care for death, that shit happened. So, he didn’t really know how to approach this. Should he laugh it off and say that’s Jashin’s divine punishment for placing money above god like he always did? Or try sympathizing? Hidan really didn’t know since he easily sees the brat getting annoyed with either one he chose. The silence stretched between the two and Hidan let it since Kakuzu himself seemed content to leave it as that

“The fuck” Hidan mumbled as he finally took note of the book in Kakuzu’s hand and blanked when he read the title ‘how to make a profit’ Hidan scoffed, leave it to kid kuzu to read boring ass shit like that for fun

Snatching the book, Hidan stood at his full height when Kakuzu snarled and tried grabbing it back

“Hidan” Kakuzu’s voice was like that of a patient mother a second away from scolding a child, Hidan found that ironically hilarious seeing how Kid kuzu barely came up to his stomach “Give that back” He demanded with a glare

“Haven’t you ever been a kid? I mean I now back in your day it was expected to be a ninja from a young age, but damn. I think I’m starting to see why you’re such a grouch all the god damn time” Hidan noted with a sympathetic shake of his head “Come on little guy” Hidan said as he tossed the book behind him uncaring as he hefted the kid up by the arms

“Hidan. Put me down” Kakuzu said not really struggling. But he sounded immensely annoyed to Hidan’s amusement

“Can’t believe this small body of yours becomes your imposing self later in life. I bet puberty hit you like a truck” Hidan chuckled, and when Kakuzu began struggling in his hold. The zealot could only find his efforts cute

“Where are we going?” Kakuzu question unamused. He promptly gave up knowing struggling would be pointless. Hidan wished he kept at it, it really was adorable watching his tiny arms and legs thrash about

“To the park”

“Hidan, I’m not going to play” Kakuzu spat the word ‘play’ out in a disgusted manner

“And why the hell not?” Hidan spat back

“Because I’m a grown ass man nearing 100” He answered dryly

“To anybody and everybody you look like a kid, I bet even other Akatsuki members wouldn’t recognize you” the platinum haired man tried to reason “Just fucking let loose and take this chance to have fun”

“My definition of ‘fun’ isn’t that of a normal persons Hidan. My fun is silence, my fun is curled up under the shade of a tree with a good book. Not doing pointless play and socializing more than I must” Kakuzu began resisting again, giving a loud growl of frustration when he gave up yet again as he didn’t even budge in Hidan’s grip

“And it’s definitely not being carried off by my idiot partner to be forced to do just that” Hidan stopped, setting Kakuzu down, Kakuzu was surprised at this and looked up at him as they silently held each others gaze

“Can we do something?” It sounded like a plea, and Kakuzu hardened a glare at the sound of it

“Like what?” He ground out, crossing his arms angrily as he really couldn’t be bothered to do anything. He just wanted to read damnit

“What do you want to do” Hidan paused and looked to consider something before he added “That’s not reading” Kakuzu tsk’d audibly

Time passed as Kakuzu mulled over what the two could do together

More time passed, a gentle breeze whipping past the duo

“…”

“You really can’t think of anything can you?” Hidan asked with a small amount of pity in his voice, it pissed the miser off

“Well what did you do back in your day? Did you find anything enjoyable? Anything at all?” Hidan prompted, trying desperately to get something. But Kakuzu was giving him nothing to work with

“Training”

“Huh?” Hidan asked stupidly, dumbfounded

“Training” Kakuzu reiterated “It was the few things me and my father used to do together before he left. I remember learning how to throw kunai was fun” He explained

Hidan beamed startling Kakuzu

“Then let’s fucking“ Hidan drawled to look around trying to find a place to practice, not seeing anything “er- Let’s fucking do it” Hidan nodded before grabbing the smaller hand in his to drag him back to the backyard of their little impromptu house

‘Progress’ was all the albino could think. After spending an entire week with the man, finally he was making some real progress. He couldn’t screw it up

----

“You need to flick your wrist and add more power” Kakuzu explained with mild irritation

“It’s not my fault I never fucking use these things, I mean who would with a scythe like this” Whipping it off of his back he made a show of showcasing his prized weapon by flinging it around like a madman Kakuzu sighed

“You graduated without perfecting this simple trick?” Kakuzu questioned in disbelief “my, how far have shinobi fallen?”

“Hmph, this whole thing is stupid anyways” Hidan concluded snobbily as he turned his nose up and crossed his arms over his chest

“Nobody forced you to do this you know, let’s just call it quits”

“No!” Hidan said hurriedly only to scratch the back of his head awkwardly “I mean, I think I almost got the hang of it”

“…” Kakuzu stared at his partner before narrowing his eyes “Not even close” He stated bluntly “Your trajectory was awful; your wrist flick needs work and your power was pathetic”

“Hah?! You got a problem you little shit?! I’ll fricken sacrifice you to Jashin-sama don’t test me!”

“Calm down” Kakuzu glared over at him “I’m sure that even someone as hopeless as you could learn to do this if you tried harder” Kakuzu explained as he walked over to the man, stopping just in front of him and stared up at the man before gesturing for the man to lower himself

Hidan did after a second, and Kakuzu held his hand. Hidan jolted at the contact not expecting it in the slightest before Kakuzu adjusted his grip on the kunai and turning to position his hand properly before taking a step back

They stared at each other, Hidan in stunned silence before it became apparent that Kakuzu wanted him to try throwing it now “…” keeping his hold the way Kakuzu adjusted it for him, he lined up his shot before whipping it like a dart

-Twunk- the sound of the kunai’s sharp edge embedding into the wooden tree of bark. It missed the target’s middle by quite a bit. But it was an improvement seeing how Hidan couldn’t get the damned thing to stick before now

“See?” Kakuzu asked condescendingly, pissing the jashinist off

Kakuzu walked over once more to handed him his own kunai, Hidan took it and again Kakuzu stared at him. Knowing what that meant he did his best to hold the weapon like how Kakuzu showed him before throwing it again

“Oh!” Hidan gleefully cheered once it nearly hit the center “Did you fucking see that shit?” He questioned snapping his head from the target to kid kuzu and back

Kakuzu let out a chuckle at his overzealousness of his minor (and admittingly unimpressive) accomplishment “I did indeed” He needlessly informed the other

By the time the sun was setting, Kakuzu realized that they spent practically the whole day kunai throwing

“Hidan, make diner” Kakuzu demanded as he stalked towards the house, his hands were killing him. He can’t remember the last time he did the basics of kunai throwing for so long

“Take out?” Hidan asked, not really feeling up to cook, his arms were quite sore as well, turns out making a competition of who can hit the center of a target the most in an hour was draining (Kakuzu won)

“Don’t be lazy, we can’t let just anybody find out we’re here. I mean, if anyone saw your face, they’d recognize you as part of the Akatsuki immediately”

“Fiiine~” Hidan whined as he stomped his feet childishly to the kitchen, surprised when soft sounding footsteps followed after him. Peering over his shoulder he saw his ‘little’ companion

Kakuzu picked up on his silent question “I could cut the vegetables” was all he said

#kakuhida #Kid kuzu #man child hidan #one shot probably #crackfic #crackiest of crackfics

[littlemisssquiggles]

Non-Oscar related question, but I have a quick theory about Robyn Hill. I think Robyn is eventually going to discover the importance of the Amity Arena and Salem. Instead of Ironwood telling the whole world about Salem, it'll be Robyn. This might lead her to convince the citizens of Atlas to blame Ironwood for keeping secrets about the biggest threat of Remnant thus gaining votes for herself for the council seat.

Hmmm. Interesting theory anon-chan and there is a possibility that you could becorrect in that regards. However, if I may, speaking for myself here, I have adifferent outlook on Robyn’s role with Ironwood and everything surrounding Amity Arena.

Last episode, Robyn was noted telling her subordinates—Happy Huntresses Fiona, May and Johanna to do whatever it takes to find out what Ironwood is doing with Amity Area.

“What now?”“I want to know why Amity Colosseum is suddenly so important. Whatever it takes.”

Based on this quote from Robyn in the last episode and the fact that the episode synopsis for V7CH6 “Night Out” described our heroes taking a break from huntsmen duty to attend the Watch Party for the Atlesian Elections, one can predict that while she is attending the rally, Robyn will send some of her Happy Huntresses to scope out the site for Amity Tower. It’s as Clover mentioned during his itinerary run-down in CH5.

“Eyes up huntsmen! Time to get used to the new normal in Atlas. Your top priority is Amity Tower. That means protecting supply runs from Grimm and bandits and protecting the site itself…”

Part of our heroes’ responsibilities in the preparations for Amity Tower is protecting the construction site, as told by Clover. However if our heroes—JNR_RWBY will have a night off from duty, then who will be protecting the tower site in their absence? Will it be Clover and Qrow on duty? Will it be the Ace Ops? Let’s say…it’s the Ace Ops on duty for guarding Amity Tower while JNR_RWBY get to have their break for that night.

Here’s my theory with that:

The heroes have their first night off from duty for the first time in weeks. They attend the Watch Party for the election campaign but soon grow bored of the political festivities. However while at the party, JN(P)R_RWBY bump into Team FNKI again. 

Upon learning that our heroes were free that night, FNKI urge JN(P)R_RWBY to ditch the Watch Party with them in favour attending a much cooler party—an underground rave or something of the like. So JN(P)R_RWBY sneak away to go better blow off some steam partying with the FNKI.

Flynt did tell JN(P)R to let him know the next time they were free. Not to mention that Neon also promised Yang and Weiss to go partying with her and Flynt the next time they meet up back in V3. I’ve been itching to see our heroes go clubbing with the FNKI crowd since V3 so it wouldn’t surprise me if we finally got that for the next episode.

Perhaps…Oscar will be allowed to join them on this fun team excursion with their FNKI friends this time. If the heroes go partying with FNKI, I pray that Oscar ISN’T omitted again ESPECIALLY since it was highlighted that Neon of FNKI seems to be fond of him. It will definitely bug me to no end if the group goes out to have fun with FNKI WITHOUT OSCAR again and not even Neon asks about the ‘cute farm boy’ who’s supposed to be with them since…y’know?  He’s a part of the team! 

Unless Penny Polendina is made into his substitute yet again since V7 has suspiciously been inserting more Penny moments with the team than Oscar. This shouldn’t bug me since I do adore Penny a lot as a character. 

I mean, who doesn’t adore Pen-Pen, am I right?

However it does bug me since I find it unfair that Penny is the one allowed to be shown spending more time with our heroes gradually growing a better relationship with everyone while they’re in Atlas…but not Oscar? The newest member of their team? Hmmmm….

If you guys thought I was furious after V6CH9, I will honestly be livid if we get the Partying with FNKI subplot and Oscar is once again benched for some unexplainable reason that the PLOT couldn’t be bothered to show however Penny once gain gets to have this fun time bonding with JNR_RWBY. But not Oscar—the kid who’s supposed to be a part of the team. 

I will honestly not forgive the CRWBY Writers (particularly the credited writer for the episode or episodes in question) if they do this to Oscar again. V7CH4 was one thing but this squiggle meister will not be so complacent if they do this to Oscar twice in one season. I’m just going to put this out there as my own stance on this matter. Feel however you will in regards to this but please respect my own.

Anyways getting back on track with my theory—as I said, the heroes go partying with FNKI. But as they’re getting all the way turnt up at a rave, unbeknownst to them, danger strikes on the Amity Tower site when the Happy Huntresses sneak onto the grounds to dig up whatever info they can find.

Unfortunately for the Happy Huntresses, they run into the Ace Ops on duty. A battle ensues pinning the Huntresses against the Aces and the tense commotion from the battle between the two factions attracts nearby Grimm to the site and an ambush occurs.

The tower site is flooded with Grimm with the threat of the recent shipment of supplies to continue construction at risk of being destroyed in the rampage. This leads to back up being called in, inclusive of our gaggle of young heroes. However…let’s say…they don’t get wind of this going on because they allhanded over their Scrolls at the rave or turned them off or just didn’t hear them go off because of all the loud music from the party or something to that liking.

Eventually they do get wind of what went down at the site. Perhaps…the Happy Huntresses survived the onslaught while pilfering some of the stored supplies that was supposed to be dedicated to the Tower. This act ends up aggravating Ironwood the next day since, let’s say…the Happy Huntresses’ stunt cost the Tower a week of construction resulting in a delay in its construction? That could be a possibility.

With me, my theory for Robyn Hill has always been that she will be used as another guinea pig by Watts in his ploy against the General. Sorry if this bursts your bubble anon-chan but my opinion is that Robyn will neither be successful in winning the elections or outing Ironwood.

The honour of outing the General will be given to Watts while I highly believe that he will use his galaxy brain hacking skills to tamper with the election results and ensure that Jacques Schnee not only becomes Councilman but also eventually usurps Ironwood in governing Atlas in some way or form. 

My theory is that Watts will put a hit out on Robyn Hill. Since Ironwood mentioned that someone (Tyrian) has been targeting spokesmen from Mantle who spoke out against Atlas (like Forest), Robyn will also be targeted due to her influence on the People of Mantle. Tyrian will hunt down Robyn with the intentions of killing her—however Qrow and possibly Clover Ebi get wind of the attack on Robyn and come to her aid; as we saw hinted in the V7 Opening. 

However during the fight—Robyn either gets killed or “it’s made to appear that she had been killed” and her alleged death is later pinned on Clover Ebi. Since the V7 opening teased Watts overlooking an image of the Aces while smirking cunningly, my hunch is that Watts will spark a scandal with the People of Mantle to further tarnish Ironwood’s public reputation with its citizens.

Since Robyn has been proclaimed as the local hero of Mantle and voice for the people, then what better way to put the final nail in Mantle’s growing hatred and outcry against Ironwood than a scandal where the leader of his elite team of military huntsmen is accused of murdering the lone representative from Mantle?

Robyn Hill will be made a martyr in the destruction of Ironwood’s dwindling goodwill with Mantle. That’s this squiggle meister’s theory and I’m going to stick with this until the PLOT tells me otherwise.

~LittleMissSquiggles (2019)

#Anon-ninja #squiggles answers: rwby #robyn hill #oscar pine #rwby theories #rwby volume 7 theories #rwby volume 7 spoilers

[hopelessromanticspoonie]

To Keep You Safe

Title: Please, please, don’t leave me.

Chapter: 20/?

Author: hopeless_romantic_spoonie

Summary: Life as the assistant to Tony Stark was busy, but boring. All of that changed when I touched something I shouldn't have and woke up with strange new abilities. If I thought that trying to figure out my new place in life as an Avenger was tough, I had no idea what was in store for me once I ran into the frustrating God of Mischief, Loki.

Rating: Explicit

Notes: Thank you so much for being patient with my while I try to get my health back on track. Y’all are the real MVPs and I’m so grateful for you.

Also on Ao3 here :)

Warnings for this chapter: Description of injuries, blood, language, brief mention of attempted suicide and torture, talk of murder.

~~~

In. Out. In. Out.

I willed him to keep breathing with me. It was as if my fervent thoughts were the only thing keeping him alive. I didn’t know what I would do if he stopped.

His eyes remained closed, clenched tight in agony, but I selfishly hoped that that distressed expression remained on his face. It meant he was holding on, fighting, and that’s all I could ask of him until we could figure out what could be done. My brain couldn’t even begin to grasp what to do next, it had gone frustratingly blank, but someone would have an idea. They had to.

Right?

The sound of boosters winding down filtered through the haze of shock that had settled over my senses. I lifted my glittering eyes to Tony after he dropped a heavy metal hand in between my bare shoulder blades and Thor’s shoulder. The metal was shockingly warm from his use of the repulsor only moments ago. The visor of his helmet had retracted into the suit so I could see the apprehension lining his face.

“He’s gonna be okay, kid. The ambulance will get him back to the Compound. A doctor will be there waiting to get him patched up. Thor, I need you in the first car with me so we can call and tell the docs what we can and can’t do for him, since you guys aren’t human. But to do all of that, you have to let him go,” he said, voice-controlled and patient as he looked back and forth between the two of us kneeling protectively over Loki.

But Thor and Loki weren’t the same. Loki was a Frost Giant. Even if he looked Æsir, he was anything but. They couldn’t give him our blood. Would a needle be able to pierce his durable skin for stitches? What if it couldn’t? What could they do for him? I didn’t know the answer to any of the questions that seemed vitally important.

Two sets of hands clamped down on my upper arms, roughly pulling me away as the EMTs approached with a stretcher. The harsh action reignited the dull throb in my bicep to a searing heat as one hand squeezed down on the fresh bullet wound. I ignored it and threw my weight against their tight grip, kicking and snarling. When my struggling did nothing, I directed my flexed fingers at the ground. All of my frantic energy pulsing beneath my skin poured into the soft earth, lifting roots from deep underground to wrap around my ankles and hold me in place The hands released me like my skin was aflame when I let out a cry of pain; it felt like my ankles were being ripped from their sockets, and I fell onto my back when I was suddenly free. I scrambled to my feet, stepping out of the roots that sank back into the ground, and rushed back to Loki to hover over him once more.

My narrowed eyes settled on Tony since he seemed to be the one taking charge of the situation. “I am not leaving him.”

Nat walked quickly out of the shadows and lowered herself down next to me. She frowned at the dreadful state of the injured god before bringing her attention back to me. Her hand brushed off a bit of debris that had cemented themselves into scrapes on my forehead, making me wince. “You have to let them take him back to the Compound. He can’t stay here. If he stays here, he will die. At least he’ll have a chance at home.”

Die? I glanced down at Loki’s wan face. I couldn’t imagine this being the last I saw of him. Would this be my final memory of him? It couldn’t be. I wouldn’t allow it, not after knowing the beauty of his smile. I kept my eyes on him and nodded. Nat took my hand and pulled me to my feet, and Thor stood along with us. Wanda walked up to the other side of Tony and lifted Loki onto the waiting stretcher gently with the assistance of her magic. My hand sought out Thor’s as we walked just a step behind Loki’s unconscious form, seeking comfort in the only other person who could even begin to feel the anguish that pulled constant silent tears down my face.

Tony came out from behind us to stand by the open doors of the ambulance, his hands raised to halt our progress. “Neither of you will fit in the ambulance, especially not you, Thor. We’ll follow right behind him in our cars. That’s the best I can do.”

Thor looked torn as he shifted his gaze to me, trusting in my knowledge of this world.

I hesitated. Every bit of me yearned to chase after the ruined body of the god that I loved and cram myself into that ambulance, but I also knew that they would need all the space they could get to keep him stable until we arrived at the Compound. It felt like my heart had been ripped from my chest and now rested in Loki’s pale, cold hands.

And I had no choice but to watch him leave with it.

“We stay on that ambulance’s tail, or it’s your ass, Stark,” I threatened, poking him hard in his metal chest for full effect. It hurt my finger a little, but it was worth it.

Tony nodded, mouth set in a grim line. “Everybody load up!”

Thor ran off toward where the vehicles were idling in front of the museum. The rest of the team had slowly gathered around us as the scene had unfolded, and at Tony’s shouted command, they dispersed. I hobbled after them as quickly as I could, but the adrenaline had begun to wear off and the bullet that had lodged itself into my thigh sent surges of sharp agony through my frayed nerves with each jarring step. I powered through and climbed into a waiting SUV behind Tony, glancing around to see Thor, Sam, and Nat already buckling themselves in. Pepper was behind the wheel, and she slammed her foot down the gas pedal as the ambulance turned on it’s flashing lights and sped off ahead of us.

With the numbing adrenaline fully out of my system, I was aware of every bruise and scrape tarnishing my skin. Nat had ended up buckled in next to me, and she used a knife--where she found it I wasn’t sure--to cut off strips of my already ruined dress, tying them tightly around my bicep and thigh as makeshift tourniquets. I gritted my teeth against the necessary field dressings. The siren of the ambulance we followed was so loud that I couldn’t make out most of what Tony and Thor were talking about in the front, but I was too frazzled to worry about that much anyway. My mind was otherwise occupied with racing, disjointed thoughts.

Loki was a god. Gods didn’t die, that’s why they were gods. But gods could die. Odin and Frigga had died. Frigga was assassinated by a stabbing herself. I had watched bullets bounce off of him like they were made of rubber. Surely a lone puncture wound wouldn’t kill him, right? He had lost a lot of blood, though. But the blade hadn’t been that long. I’d never seen him shake like that. He didn’t deserve to die. Not when he might not know how loved he was in this world. I was supposed to stay by his side to protect him. We were a team! I had failed him. I had failed.

I failed him.

An eternity later, we followed the screaming ambulance as it pulled into the Compound. A man in a white coat and another in scrubs were waiting for us next to a rolling metal table at the entrance. We screeched to a stop a few car lengths away from the ambulance, giving it a wide berth so they could get the stretcher out easily. I pushed the door open before the car was turned off, vaguely aware of Thor doing the same as we ran around to look for Loki.

All color seemed to have drained out of pale face during the ride. I couldn’t even see his chest moving for the flurry of activity of the doctors and paramedics, but the urgency in the men transferring him from the ambulance gurney to the metal table had to mean that he was still alive. They wouldn’t be so rushed if he was already dead, right?

Thor stayed at my side as we followed the duo of doctors rolling the gurney inside and down a series of hallways into the infirmary. When we tried to go into the room that they wheeled him into, Tony, Steve, and Nat both pulled us back from the shut doors before stationing themselves in the way.

“Nat, move. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will,” I growled out, head lowered and feet spread apart so I could retain my balance as I faced off against her. The powerful stance shot fire through my injured leg, but I wasn’t about to back down because of a bit of pain when it came to Loki.

Thor took a similar pose next to me. Bloodied and covered in dirt, he was even more imposing than usual, the grime giving credence to his ability to handle himself in a fight. “There is ample space in that room for us.”

Tony, still in his suit but sans helmet, crossed his arms over his chest and pinned me down with a warning glare. “If you and Thor go in there, they won’t be able to get any work done. They need space, but they also need peace and calm to be able to focus. Do you look calm right now, kid?”

With my fists clenched at my sides, tattered dress covered in multiple people’s blood, and desperation shining in my eyes, I knew that I was anything but a steady presence. I couldn’t live with myself I was a distraction to them and that caused Loki more harm. Thor and I hazarded a quick look at each other, and the tension blew out of him with his heavy sigh that puffed out his cheeks.

“We will remain right here,” he vowed with a nod of his head. He dropped down into a metal chair that groaned beneath his weight and tilted his head back against the wall to close his eye.

“You need medical attention.”

Steve’s gruff voice brought my attention back to the slowly bleeding wounds beneath the tourniquets on my arm and thigh, the blistered burn on the palm of my left hand, and the untold number of cuts and scrapes dotting my body that my thin dress had done little to protect against. I sank heavily into the chair next to Thor and my head fell to my chest with a tired sigh. Thor’s large hand lay open on his knee, and I placed my much smaller palm over his and laced our fingers together. His hand overwhelmed mine with its size and warmth, and I drank in the strength it offered like a drug. Somehow, during this ordeal, my doubt of his intentions surrounding me had vanished away.

Maybe that’s what happened when two people are faced with the possibility of losing the most important person in their lives.

Steve stayed posted in front of the doors. He, too, looked fearsome in his dirtied Captain America suit, his blue eyes piercing as he watched Thor and I wait anxiously for any news from the doctors inside. Nat returned some time later, showered and fixed up with a bandage wrapped around her forearm. She kicked two chairs in front of me, plopping down on one and scattering a selection of bandages, gauzes, cleaning solutions, and other medical tools onto the other.

“Pain meds?” she asked, face blank excluding one raised brow as she held out the syringe and the bottle of morphine to me. It was considerate of her to ask, to show me the tools so that I could see what she was doing and know without a doubt what was in the syringe.

I nodded my consent with one caveat, “Just enough to take the edge off.” There was a bullet in my thigh, and I didn’t want to pass out like I had in the past. I needed to be awake for when they finished with him.

She pulled a small amount of morphine into the chamber and plunged the needle into my leg. The cold fluid automatically took me back to a cold, dark room filled with electricity and painful consequences. I shoved the mental image away with a shake of my head. Nothing was going to pull my focus from the present moment, not even that.

But as Nat began to work at stitching up the wounds, a combination of fatigue, drugs, and worry pulled at me until it felt like I was disconnected from my body, watching instead of feeling as she furthered the tears along the sides of my dress so she could move the fabric to get at my thigh. Expertly, she pried the bullet from my thigh and stitched up the wound left behind. It was easier to just tear away the lace sleeve of my dress for her to have enough room to stitch up the graze on my bicep. My blistered hand was left to the open air after it was smothered in burn cream.

Thor turned down any medical attention, but it didn’t look like he had any serious damage that would need any extra help.

The chair was covered in bloody rags and plastic wrappers by the time she finished tending to me. I could only meet her eyes and nod in silent gratitude before she left; I couldn’t think of anything to say. My brain was still firmly focused on Loki, unconscious and bleeding and alive, just on the other side of the wall at my back.

What I wouldn’t give to have our situations reversed, to take his pain away and shoulder it for him instead. Without that as a real possibility, my fears swirled into more terrible thoughts by the second. Would I feel the cool caress of his calloused fingertips on my skin again? Would I ever see the warm, sleepy smile that he had just for me when we woke in the mornings? I couldn’t believe that I wouldn’t hear the pleasing velvet of his voice sounding out my name again. It wasn’t possible. I would track down whoever I needed to drag his soul out of Valhalla if it came to that.

I clung masochistically to the fiery twinge that broke through the grips of the pain medication as I limped back and forth in front of the doors. My repetitive steps pulled on the stitches of my thigh, but I relished the discomfort. It kept me awake, and awake meant alive. I chewed on my bottom lip as I finally came to a stop against the opposite wall.

It had been too long. What had gone wrong? Surely by now they’d be finished with him. There had been too much damage. They didn’t want him to live because of his past and they were just letting him bleed out instead. They were killing him.

Just as I was about to barge into the room, permission be damned, the same man who had taken Loki opened the metal doors that had quickly become my obsession. His white coat and scrubs were dark red with the Loki’s blood; the table he pulled behind him also told the tale of the gory scene we had been denied access to. I pushed passed him and the doctor behind him to burst into the room, seeking out Loki.

My heart lodged itself firmly in my throat as I watched him, waiting for his bare chest to rise with his breath. My knees threatened to buckle with relief when I got my wish. Even shallow, it was there, and that was enough. I couldn’t bridge the distance between us, though, suddenly afraid to touch him. I hadn’t expected him to look so fragile.

The doctor’s tired voice came from over my shoulder. “His skin is so tough that he kept dulling the needles. It took a bit longer than we’d have liked, but we managed to stitch him up. We couldn’t give him any blood, but he does have a saline drip going. The rest is up to him.”

Thor barrelled around us and pulled two chairs up to the bed, one on either side. He plopped down onto the chair at Loki’s left, staring at his brother’s sleeping face. Seeing Thor so close reignited my own need to be with Loki, overpowering my odd fear of hurting him with just a touch, and it wasn’t even a second later before I fell into the open chair at his right.

This close, he looked both so much worse and so much better than I had anticipated. My uninjured hand came on top of his of its own accord. I had to remind myself that he was a Frost Giant, that he was always cold, and it wasn’t because he was dying. The crease between his eyebrows had smoothed out, and if it weren’t for the sterile setting and bandages I could see around his middle, he could have been in our bed, sleeping peacefully.

But there were dark shadows beneath his eyes, and his breathing wasn’t as deep as that of sleep. I had to be mindful of the IV coming out of his wrist as I skated my hand up the length of his arm, stroking the soft skin reverently. My eyes followed the slow movements of my hand, almost hypnotized by the repetitive pattern and speed.

“Will he survive this?” I breathed, afraid of the answer but I needed to voice the question plaguing my mind.

“Were we on Asgard, he would handily. But it is no more, and I do not possess the tools necessary to aid him in his healing,” he said quietly, his rich voice full of despair. “But, my brother is strong. If anyone can survive such an injury, it is he.”

“I’m sorry that you lost Asgard. I can’t imagine how I’d handle it if Earth just…” I searched for the right word, sucking my bottom lip in between my teeth. After a few quiet moments, I gave up. I lifted Loki’s limp hand to my lips and just held it there, memorizing the feeling of his skin against mine--a sensation I would never take for granted again. My tired eyes drifted up to his colorless face. “He’s so pale.”

Thor’s chair groaned as he shifted his weight to rest his forearms on the bed. “I was concerned he would look differently.”

“Hmm?” The curious sound vibrated my lips against his hand, tickling the sensitive, chapped skin.

Thor’s gaze flitted between Loki and me quickly before settling on his hands as he rubbed them together anxiously. “Oh, I was simply expecting him to look…”

I narrowed my eyes and lowered our joined hands from my mouth back to the soft sheets beneath him. “Like a Frost Giant.”

He straightened from his slouched position. “He spoke of his true heritage to you?”

“Of course,” I replied indignantly.

“And you still love him?”

A muscle fluttered in my cheek from my clenched jaw. I tightened my fingers into the stiff, blood-stained fabric over my knee. “Of course I do. He’s the man I love. Not a creature, not a god, not Æsir of Jötunn. He’s just Loki.”

“But surely you know of the Frost Giants. How-”

I cut off what was surely going to some horrible judgment before it could begin, bristling at his inference that I wouldn’t love him because of such a stupid reason. My blood boiled and my powers rushed through my veins. I worked to speak in as much of a measured tone as I could. “He is your brother. He is Odin and Frigga’s son, although I’d rather that Odin hadn’t been part of the picture at all, to be honest.”

“Do not speak of Odin in that manner.” It was a threat, delivered with a low rumbling voice that had never been directed at me before. Anger tightened the lines around his eyes and throbbed in the visible veins of his neck.

I refused to back down. I rose to my feet instead, ignoring the trembling of my legs against the foolish demonstrative stance. I wasn’t afraid of him, even if he could easily wipe me off the face of the Earth. Loki was too important for me to be afraid. “To you, he may have been a great leader, a great father, but take a look at it through his eyes.” I ticked off each point on my fingers as I made them, “Stolen as a baby to be used for political gain, told his entire life that his true self was a monster to be despised, lied to about his identity, locked away for what was meant to be an eternity, cast aside and ostracized by basically everybody but your mother, belittled when he wasn’t ignored, shouted at and demeaned in public. He fought tooth and nail for acceptance and love and to get out of the shadow of his family and it was never freely given.”

I combed a trembling hand through my disgusting hair, having to pull it out halfway through because it was so tangled. “He has every right and reason to be the way he is, to not trust anyone, to act in his own interests. Just as you are the way you are, so is he.”

He crossed his massive arms over his burly chest as he leaned back in the chair, head tilted to the side and lips pursed into a thin line. It was a pose very similar to one Loki frequented, but I’d never tell him that. “And how am I?”

Maybe I shouldn’t have opened this can of worms, but it was too late to take it back. I leaned into my judgemental anger. “Quick to action, sometimes without thinking it through. A little more motivated to fight your way out of situations than think them through. More confident, loud, outgoing. You were raised to be King of Asgard, and you act like it. Like you know your place in the world and take it for granted. You know the effect you have on people, making them trust you, and in some cases, become attracted to you. You revel in it. Because you have never had to doubt your place in the world, except for when your father banished you. But that was only temporary. You never questioned the love that Odin or Frigga had for you, not really. You always trusted that what you did was right.”

I braced myself against the bed, arms straight as I leaned forward over Loki to pin him down with the full intensity of my barely-contained fury and disappointment. “But you aren’t always right, just as he isn’t, just as I’m sure as hell not. Shit like what you did to him on Sakaar? That’s not okay. He could’ve died, been killed actually, and you just left him there, helpless. I know that he’s betrayed you, but so have you to him, every time you let your glorious four talk down to him, the entire time you allowed him to be locked up in those dungeons without even visiting him, when you ignored the obvious signs that he wasn’t okay, when you refused time and time again to even try to see his side of things.”

A cruel, low laugh devoid of humor escaped from somewhere deep within me. “He tries so. damn. hard. He carries around all this crap that Odin dumped on him, the trauma of being tortured for a year after he tried to commit suicide, and I-”

I stopped my own rant, lowering my head to stare down at Loki’s handsome face, forcing myself to take deep, calming breaths. He wouldn’t want me to lean into Thor like this, even after all they’ve done to each other. My hand skirted up his side, over his ribs, to come to rest on his chest. His heart thudded out, strong and steady, no faster or slower than it was when he normally slept. It brought me more peace than I thought it would. “He can’t acknowledge any of it. He tells me these stories of Asgard when he thinks that I’m asleep, or near enough to it that I won’t remember. But I do, because it’s heartbreaking and it obviously hurts him and I can’t… I can’t fix it. I can’t do it on my own; I don’t have enough time. I know that you’ve talked to him about my dying, about how short my life is compared to yours, and-” I swallowed around the lump forming in my throat, “he’s going to need someone there for him when it happens. I’d feel a lot better if you at least tried to be there for him, to help him and listen to him, after I’m gone. He can’t go it alone, even though he thinks otherwise. He loves you. I know he doesn’t really show it, but he does. He just wants to be your brother.”

Thor watched me silently for some time. I didn’t dare look up to him to see what effect my unplanned speech had on him. So it took me by surprise when Thor rose from his chair, swiftly closed the short distance between us, and enclosed me in the warmth of his embrace. I stiffened at first, unused to such affection from him after so many months of pushing him away, but when he didn’t let up, my body slowly relaxed. My hands even reached out to pat him on his broad, muscled back. He tightened his arms quickly before standing back to hold me at arm’s length so he could look down at me.

“Loki is most fortunate to have earned a love so complete from one so strong,” he stated quietly, a warm smile settling comfortably onto his tanned face. It fit better than the worry and anger he’d worn lately.

“Thor, Brunnhilde has called your phone several times. She says it’s urgent,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said, her voice breaking through the platonic intimacy of the moment.

Thor darted his gaze back and forth between me to his brother, the need to stay by his side while also answering the call from his Valkyrie clearly dueling in his mind.

“I’m not leaving him,” I vowed, reaching my hand up to squeeze his hand reassuringly before stepping away to press my bottom against the edge of the raised bed.

He groaned in exasperation as he backed away towards the doors. “You will alert me if anything changes?”

“Promise,” I promised with a steadfast nod, brows lowered and jaw set. “Thor?”

He stopped his retreat at my soft call.

“I don’t love you like I do Loki, but I could see myself becoming your annoying little sister who doesn’t let you get away with acting like an idiot. So be careful out there, okay?” I offered him the kind words with a good-natured shooing motion with my hands.

“I am entrusting you with his care and protection while I am absent.”

And then he was gone and I was left alone with my slumbering god.

Time passed differently in that brightly lit hospital room. It was measured in the shallow breaths that lifted his chest, the slow drying and cracking of sweat and blood on my skin, the fatigue that weighed down my eyelids and the gradual lightening of the world through the window as the sun rose for the new day. At some point in the night F.R.I.D.A.Y. let me know that Thor had to go to New Asgard to settle some dispute, but I hadn’t cared to look at the clock to check the time.

The sun had fully risen by the time Nat walked into the room, face serious and arms crossed over her stomach. She jerked her head towards the doors she had just passed through. “Go take a shower. I’ll take a shift.”

I shook my head stubbornly. The very thought of leaving him made my heart race in my chest. I lifted my weary, red-rimmed eyes to hers. “I can’t leave him.”

She plopped down in the chair Thor had been in earlier and pulled out her phone. “It’ll freak him out to see you like this when he wakes up. Go get cleaned up and at least grab a granola bar or something. If he finds out that you haven’t been taking care of yourself while he’s taking a snooze, you’ll never hear the end of it. And then I’ll never hear the end of it from you. So, go; I’ll watch Sleeping Beauty.”

I could kiss her for saying ‘when’ and not ‘if’. I hadn’t entertained the thought that he may not wake up since my talk with Thor, but the ball of dread in my stomach had lingered there just the same. He would be pretty upset if he woke up to see me covered in blood and dirt, and probably a little disgusted. She knew just the buttons to push to get me moving. Damn it.

“Have F.R.I.D.A.Y. let me know if anything changes, please.”

She didn’t look up from her phone as she nodded and grunted, “Sure thing.” I gratefully squeezed her shoulder on my way out, my legs tingling from sitting in one position at his side for so long.

I had to admit that it felt heavenly to stand beneath the pounding showerhead and watch the water swirling at my feet slowly change from rusty brown to clear. Even the sting of the scalding water on my healing cuts and scrapes was welcome as it battled against the drowsiness that urged me to just lay down on the shower floor and take a quick nap.

After the shower, I moved about on autopilot. It was the safest option to get me through what I needed to do and back up to his room. I threw on a pair of sweatpants and a matching hoodie that I stole from Loki’s side of the closet. They smelled like him and were luxuriously soft against my ravaged body. My hair was left to air-dry into a frizzy, wavy mess. Only the desire to watch over Loki was enough to keep me from crawling into the welcoming mussed bed. I snagged a bottled coffee that Nat liked to have around and a protein bar before heading back to the infirmary, waving them at Nat to prove that I was following orders.

“Any changes?” I asked, sinking down into my previously vacated chair and stuffing a bite of the bland bar into my mouth. Cookies and cream, my ass.

“None. How are you doing?” she asked, pocketing her phone and directing her pointed gaze at my leg. “Ruining my handiwork, I see.”

“Hm?” Oops. Small spots of blood seeped through the light fabric of my pants. “Well, I guess I ripped a stitch or two coming down here. But it doesn’t hurt too bad.”

It wasn’t a lie. General unease, anxiety, and dread had blanketed my body, only adding to the throbbing ache of my actual injuries scattered over me. I was just one big wound, and pushing it to the back of my mind was the only way that I could cope with it.

I called it compartmentalizing, and Nat called it: “Avoiding the issue again?”

I wolfed down the last of the bland bar, tossing the crumpled wrapper into a trash can by his bedside. “I’ll heal up. I’m not taking more morphine. It makes me sleepy.” I pressed, cutting my eyes to her before surveying Loki for any changes. “I need to check his bandages.”

She stood up in my peripheral vision and then began roaming around as I lifted myself out of the chair to perch on the side of his bed by his hips. Nat wheeled a tray covered with medical supplies in front of me. I looked up and found her watching me with sadness softening her eyes and a frown on her face.

“If you need anything, you know where to find me, okay? Drink some water with that coffee,” she commanded, patting the table of supplies twice before leaving the room.

Alone with Loki, it was too quiet. The only sound in the sterile space came from me as I bustled about getting everything laid out to my liking. In my quick check of the room, as my hands worked at opening packages of sterile bandages, I noticed that he had a new bag of saline solution hooked up to him; Nat must have changed it. That was kind of her and somewhat unexpected. I didn’t know how she felt about him, but she had pushed us together, so she couldn’t think too terribly of him, right? No matter what happened, I was indebted to her for playing matchmaker. It was a debt I’d gladly pay, hopefully over many years with Loki grumbling at my side.

I pulled down the thin blanket covering him to get at the bandages wrapped around his middle. The blood that had seeped through the layers of gauze was dried and dark, hopefully signaling that he was already beginning to heal. Thanks to the remote attached to the bed I was able to leverage him into an upright position, but it would still take some maneuvering to get him situated so I could get my arms behind his back to rewrap the bandages.

I thought the silence might drive me mad, my mind begged for distraction, so I decided to talk to him. Maybe he could hear me and it would help? It certainly helped me, and he wasn’t awake to complain about it.

“You sure are heavy for a thinner guy.” I shifted his shoulder over a pillow with a quiet grunt. “I mean, you do have muscles, I’m very aware of how ripped you are,” a blush bloomed on my pallid cheeks, “but still. This is probably going to hurt, so I guess I’m glad that you’re asleep for this part,” I rattled on, tossing the old bandages that I had carefully cut off of him away.

The white square of gauze covering his stab wound was caked with dried blood, and I winced sympathetically as I slowly pulled it from his skin, knowing that it was tugging on the wound as well. Sure enough, after I had fully gotten it off, a small amount of blood pooled on the edge of the stitches. I took a second to admire the handiwork of the doctor as I dabbed at it gently with gauze covered in antiseptic solution. For having to change needles several times, it was good work. Clean stitches neatly spaced apart, which, if they left a scar, wouldn’t mar his skin too terribly.

“You did this for me before. That was the first time you showed that you weren’t some heartless asshole like I had thought you were. I never thought our roles would be reversed. You're a god who can’t even be pierced by bullets, and a knife from some guy catching you by surprise is what does you in?” I liberally applied some antibiotic ointment over and around the tear in his skin. “When I was in this same situation you told me that I wasn’t allowed to die. Well,” I swallowed the thick tears that strangled my voice, “I didn’t give you permission either. I know that you’re more of an ‘ask forgiveness rather than permission’ kinda guy, except without asking for forgiveness, but I’m gonna need you to follow the rules just this once. Okay?” I attached fresh gauze to his taut stomach with a strip of medical tape before I wound new bandages around his lean torso to help secure and protect my work. “I think I overheard Tony saying in that car that he thinks that was the last of Hydra. So now that we don’t have to worry about that anymore, you need to get out of this bed and take me on a proper date that doesn’t end in people dying. How weird would that be?”

Once I was finished, my fingers caressed the smooth skin peeking out from the top of the bandages gently. The muscles, even in his sleep, rippled beneath my loving touch. I carefully pulled away the extra pillows that I had used to prop him up and piled them at the foot of his bed. It was impossible to resist pushing a stray hair off his forehead and my hand naturally fell to cup his chiseled jaw afterward.

“Come back to me, okay? Please,” I whispered, unable to speak any louder for fear that I would give in to the tears that glittered in my hazel eyes. Crying wouldn’t make him wake up and it’d just give me a headache.

Even though he was a Frost Giant and probably didn’t even get cold, I still pulled the sheet up over his naked torso, tucking it around his shoulders. My aching body protested my twisted position on the edge of his bed, so I settled back down into the cushioned chair I had claimed earlier. An audible sigh of relief rushed out of me. I leaned forward, crossed my arms over themselves and rested them against the outside of his thigh. I would watch him for any changes from this position. I should really sit up and drink the bottled coffee that sat on the floor next to my chair, but that required too much movement. Besides, I wasn’t going to fall asleep this way; it was just more comfortable. That was my last thought before my eyelids fluttered closed and I dozed off.

~~~

Something startled me and I woke up with a gasp, lifting my forehead from where it had fallen onto his upper thigh. I grumbled incoherently, arching my back and stretching my arms over my head as my body made it known that sleeping in such an odd position for so long was not the best idea I’d ever had. Someone had turned off the overhead lights in the room at some point, leaving the room illuminated only by the fading sunlight and a small bedside lamp. I looked around the room with bleary eyes. A glass of ice water and a grilled cheese sat on the table beside me that had previously held medical supplies. When I reached out to grab the sandwich it was still warm. That must have been what woke me up.

“You’re welcome,” Tony commented sarcastically.

I didn’t bother to turn my head to address him. I was wiped, mentally and physically, and even that task seemed too arduous. He could come around the bed if he wanted to talk face to face. I took a bite and suppressed a pleased moan over the simple sandwich. I hadn’t eaten in way too long. I visually inspected Loki for changes as I chewed.

Did he have more color to his cheeks than he had earlier? It was hard to tell after staring at him for so long. His breathing had deepened, though, which I took as a sign that he was in less pain. His measured breaths more closely resembled those of the deep sleep that I listened to in the wee hours of the morning. Surely if he was getting worse, it'd be more obvious, right? Tony’s shoes clicked on the floor as he strolled around to stand across from me on the other side of Loki’s bed. He shoved his hands into his pockets with a sigh. “How’re you both doing?”

“Splendid,” I replied with a too wide, too-bright smile.

His dark eyes rolled in his head before settling back on me, his brows raised above them.

Apparently my satire wasn’t appreciated. Got it.

I scrubbed my hand over the back of my neck. “He seems to be breathing easier, so that’s good. I,” I stretched my arms behind my back, wincing at the pull of the stitches as they got caught in the fabric of my stolen sweatshirt, “I’ll be fine. Nothing a few grilled cheeses and naps can’t fix.”

He nodded and his jaw ticked as he shifted on his feet. “Good, well, then I need you to look at-”

“Tony, if you’re here to tell me that last night with that bastard from Hydra was uncalled for, that the press is having a field day, that we’re supposed to be the good guys, save it. I’m not apologizing and I’m not dealing with it today,” I cut him off brusquely. It was very rude of me, but I didn’t have the fucks in me left to give. Those were reserved for Loki.

He shook his head just a bit at my retort, blinking at the abruptness of it, before clearing his throat and heading toward the door. “Okay then, Poison Ivy. I’ll save it for tomorrow. Drink that water.”

I turned my head to look at him curiously over my shoulder when he called my name.

“I covered for you both, to the press and SHIELD, about that asshole from Hydra. No worries.”

He shot me a kind smile before ducking his head and leaving the room.

I had forgotten all about killing Malfoy after Loki beat him within an inch of his life. He would’ve killed him if I hadn’t gotten there to finish the job. All of the moisture left my mouth.

I had thought that killing him would make me feel better, vindicated and free. But instead, I just felt numb and empty. I had never killed in cold blood before. True, he had deserved death and so much more, but I hadn’t ever made the conscious decision to end someone’s life. I had always acted in self-defense.

Excluding last night. A wave of fierce cold anger had settled over me after Loki had been injured. I didn’t even recognize myself as I looked back at the memory. I had ended the lives of all of those men without blinking an eye. They were trying to kill my friends and kidnap me, but in the past I would have felt at least a bit of remorse or shock at what I’d done. Guilty, maybe.

I’d do it again in a heartbeat for what they did to Loki.

What kind of monster did that make me?

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