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booksteaandtoomuchtv · 5 months

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Burn The Ships (3/?)

A HUGE THANK YOU TO @snowbellewells FOR THIS INCREDIBLE ART. I wish I knew how to best express how amazing it feels to have someone make art for something I wrote. It is just the best feeling in the world. <3

THIS IS/WILL BE MATURE.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | ???

Tagging: @anmylica, @deckerstarblanche, @elfiola, @goforlaunchcee, @jrob64, @kmomof4, @pirateswhore, @stahlop, @teamhook, @tiganasummertree, @undercaffinatednightmare, @xarandomdreamx, @zaharadessert (let me know if you want to be added or dropped)

Exhaustion did not lovingly pull Emma into a peaceful oblivion where she could rest and forget. Rather, it dragged her into a brutal storm - the howling winds tore at her, the thunder rumbled threateningly deep in her bones, and emotions best forgotten rained down on her. She was alone, abandoned on the edge of a forest. The cold rain seeped into her bones, having already soaked through her clothing, as she stumbled forward toward… nothing. She had no place to call home.

In the way of dreams, Emma blinked and was on a beach. Her body ached as if she’d been walking for days. She wasn’t sure where she was going but walked on as waves pummelled the shoreline. It seemed she wasn’t alone, apparently, the storm would accompany her through these strange dreams.

She turned toward the turbulent waters and her next step landed on a wooden board. Her stomach plummeted as the ship was thrown from the rolling sea. Emma desperately reached out, trying to find something to keep her on the deck as the ship leaned dangerously into the water. The boards were too wet, the sea too hungry for new souls… Emma was being sucked under the water, lungs screaming for air.

I’ve got you.

Cool, crisp air filled her lungs. She was back on the deck of a ship, once more. The angry onslaught of violent waves had given way to playful swells that lapped gently against the hull. No other soul was aboard the ship, but Emma felt contented rather than alone. A word, a feeling, that had never carried meaning to her wrapped itself around her heart followed by a consuming fear - panic - it would be taken away.

You’re safe, love.

The softly accented voice reached through her dreams again, wrapping around her as warm and comforting as a well-loved blanket. Emma yearned to snuggle into the melody of that low voice. In that strange way of dreams, she suddenly felt certain that the voice could protect her from the painful reality that waited to greet her upon waking. If she could just melt into it, maybe it would prevent her from losing that feeling she’d spent a lifetime chasing.

Rest now.

And, at long last, with that voice and that feeling wrapped around her heart, Emma rested. §§§§ §§§§ §§§§ §§§§

The white wolf had been stunning, her fur seemed to shimmer with its own light source. But the woman who stormed out of his cabin the next morning was a sight to behold.

With her blonde waves flowing behind her and her emerald eyes wild, this wild woman charged onto the deck armed with only his letter opener and a lot of swagger. She acted as though she were a rival captain set on commandeering his ship rather than a damsel recently rescued from Pan’s clutches. She had taken the liberty of procuring clothing from his wardrobe before launching her assault, the deep plunging necklines of his shirts and the way his soft leather trousers wrapped around her curves distracting him long enough for her to strike out with her borrowed weapon.

Killian captured her wrist and forced her to release the letter opener in a quick motion. He’d offer to teach her how to properly wield any weapon of her choosing once they were better acquainted. Perhaps sometime after he was certain that he wasn’t in danger of finding the weapon buried somewhere in his flesh.

Sighing at her newest attempts to claw at his leather coat, he pulled her closer.

“I’m not your enemy,” he murmured to her as he wrapped his arms around her, pinning her arms to her side to prevent her from continuing her attack. He tried to focus on calming her and gaining control of the situation rather than the way she felt in his arms and the way her scent stirred something deep within him.

“You’re safe, love,” he soothed. The woman stilled.

Her frantic breathing slowed and the tension slipped from her limbs. The ocean lapping on the hull and their breathing were the only sounds for a few moments. It could have been romantic…if the situation were entirely different.

“If you promise to behave, I will let you go.”

She stared at him with frustration burning brightly behind her eyes. Her wildness and defiance stoked a desire in him - and his wolf - that he was becoming more difficult to ignore with every minute he spent in her presence.

After a moment, during which she held his gaze with hers as if trying to determine the trick in his offer, she nodded in agreement with his terms. He reluctantly released her.

The loss of contact left him desperate for any excuse to hold her again. He suppressed the whine his wolf let loose with a clearing of his throat. Then, with a bit of a flourish, he introduced himself to her.

“I am Captain Killian Jones and you’re aboard the Jolly Roger. You are welcome on my ship for as long as you wish.”

“HOOK?! You’re Captain Hook?” She wasn’t afraid of him, which seemed promising. Doesn’t mean she will love someone like you. Killian shoved away the taunting voice of his father and smiled at her as if she had said something particularly flattering.

“Ah, so you have heard of me.”

She looked at him flatly, clearly not impressed with his antics. “Is this ship enchanted?” The abrupt question was a bit unexpected. Of course, the Jolly Roger was enchanted - to keep a course he set, to alert him of guests aboard his ship, to hide treasures from unwelcome eyes - but the enchantments were subtle and not something that should be so easily detected.

He cocked an eyebrow to conceal his surprise. “I’m not giving secrets away to a lass who hasn’t given me her name.”

“Oh, so it is enchanted.” She looked around as if the spell work would reveal itself to her. She took a few deep breaths, frowned a bit, breathed in again, and turned back to look at him. “Emma Swan.”

“Why are you sniffing my ship,” he hesitated before deciding with certainty, “Swan?” He smiled, the name fit her perfectly - and felt so right leaving his lips.

“Better question. Why would you use magic to make it smell so… incredible?”

Killian scratched a spot behind his ear. What was the correct way to tell someone who woke up on a strange ship and wasn’t sure if you were another threat in the never-ending nightmare of Neverland or a possible ally that the scent they thought was part of a strange enchantment was a sign that they were in the presence of their mate? It seemed a lot to ask of anyone without adding that she had been Pan’s prisoner for some length of time before becoming the target of the most recent hunt.

“The incredible smell of salt and fish?” Smee grumbled. A few of the crew laughed. Emma looked thoroughly confused. Killian wasn’t sure if her confusion was at his comment or at the sudden realisation that they had an audience for this little episode.

Seeing as he’d completely forgotten his men still on the deck, he figured it was likely a bit of both. He did not want an audience for whatever was to follow.

“That’s enough from you, Mr Smee. There is a deck that needs to be swabbed.” Hook growled out. Grumbling, Smee stomped down the stairs to the main deck. The other crewmen fell into their own tasks and responsibilities understanding the example being made of the first mate.

Emma watched all of this with a small frown on her face.

Once they were alone on the quarterdeck, she focused her piercing emerald gaze at Killian. “Do you think he really doesn’t smell that…?”

Killian shook his head and answered softly, gently, “No, love, I don’t believe he smells anything but the sea.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, “But…you, you smell it?” The words sounded as though she were begging him to confirm that she hadn’t taken leave of all of her senses.

“Aye.” He confirmed with a small smile.

Her eyes widened, panic flashing momentarily before several other emotions followed in quick succession. “Oh.”

Killian winced. “Aye.”

#a gift for kmomof4 #Emma x Killian #Emma Swan #Killian Jones #Captain Swan #killian x emma #ouat captain hook #cs fanfic #ouat #ouat fanfic #cs ff #fic by Jas #inspired by songs #inspired by Burn the Ships #werewolves #some horror elements #some hurt/comfort

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kmomof4 · 2 years

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MARTA!!!

So, today is the birthday of one of my very favorite people in this fandom, @snowbellewells!!!! And to celebrate, I finally got down a fic that’s been rattling around in my head for the better part of a year. I so hope you enjoy it, my friend!!! Thank you so much for all your love and support, but most of all, your friendship over the years! You mean so much to me and I hope this little offering conveys that to you!! Happiest of birthdays, love!!!

Thank you to @jrob64 for her beta help and second pair of eyes on the artwork and also to @hollyethecurious who has listened to me whine about this fic since the inspiration first hit me and encouraged me to write it in the first place. And then finally to @cosette141 for the idea of Angsty August and gave me the kick in the pants I needed to get this written. Love ya, ladies!!!

Fic Summary: Inspired by Burn the Ships by For King and Country, lyrics below. Bar wench Emma Swan has a chance encounter with Pirate Captain Killian Jones who changes her life forever.

Rating: M (Violence and Smut)

Words: 6640

Tags: AU, Golden Age of Piracy, References to Non Con, References to Prostitution, Smut, Violence, TW Physical Abuse, References to Physical Abuse, Major Character Death, Fiery and Well Deserved Death of a Majorly Horrible Person, That Would Be Neal Y’all...

On ao3

Tagging the usuals. Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed.

@hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @snowbellewells @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @jennjenn615 @kingofmyheart14 @profdanglaisstuff @branlovestowrite @thisonesatellite @ultraluckycatnd @flslp87 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @let-it-raines @shireness-says @kymbersmith-90 @darkcolinodonorgasm @bethacaciakay @searchingwardrobes @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @aprilqueen84 @qualitycoffeethings @superchocovian @artistic-writer @donteattheappleshook @doodlelolly0910 @seriouslyhooked @tiganasummertree @lfh1226-linda @xsajx @klynn-stormz @jrob64 @wefoundloveunderthelight @zaharadessert @elizabeethan @xhookswenchx @gingerpolyglot @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @sailtoafarawayland @justanother-unluckysoul @veryverynotgoodwrites @jonesfandomfanatic @deckerstarblanche @the-darkdragonfly @batana54 @purplehawkcaptain @k-leemac @motherkatereloyshipper @apiratewhopines @killiansqueenofthejollyroger @onceuponahookandswan @meat-pie-with-sauce @cosette141 @pirateprincessofpizza @xarandomdreamx @fleurdepetite @hookmecaptain @o-wild-west-wind

Inspired by Burn the Ships by For King and Country

How did we get here?

All castaway on a lonely shore

I can see in your eyes, dear

It's hard to take for a moment more

We've got to

Burn the ships, cut the ties

Send a flare into the night

Say a prayer, turn the tide

Dry your tears and wave goodbye

Step into a new day

We can rise up from the dust and walk away

We can dance upon our heartache, yeah

So light a match, leave the past, burn the ships

And don't you look back

Don't let it arrest you

This fear is fear of fallin' again

And if you need a refuge

I will be right here until the end

Oh, it's time to

Burn the ships, cut the ties

Send a flare into the night

Say a prayer, turn the tide

Dry your tears and wave goodbye

Step into a new day

We can rise up from the dust and walk away

We can dance upon our heartache, yeah

So light a match, leave the past, burn the ships

And don't you look back

So long to shame, walk through the sorrow

Out of the fire into tomorrow

So flush the pills, face the fear

Feel the wave disappear

We're comin' clear, we're born again

Our hopeful lungs can breathe again

Oh, we can breathe again

Step into a new day

We can rise up from the dust and walk away

We can dance upon our heartache, yeah

So light a match, leave the past, burn the ships

And step into a new day

We can rise up from the dust and walk away

We can dance upon our heartache, yeah

So light a match, leave the past, burn the ships

And don't you look back

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

Out of the Fire, Into Tomorrow

Emma Swan looked toward the door as it opened to admit a rather large group of men.

Pirates, she thought, suppressing a shudder and turning away from the newcomers.

She would avoid them as long as she could. But spying Neal behind the counter and registering the lustful gleam in his eye as his attention moved between them and her, she knew it wouldn’t be long. There were no patrons of the seaside tavern more laden with gold than pirates- or more specifically, pirate captains- and it was her job, as well as the other wenches employed at The Dark Hollow, to show them a good time and relieve them of said gold. And since she was Neal’s prized possession, he expected her to entertain the captain. He seemed to get off on the knowledge that he could parse her out to infamous and dangerous men every night, and still call her back to his side at a moment’s notice, letting everyone know who she really belonged to.

She turned toward Ruby and Mary Margaret and shared a brief look of commiseration, before turning her resigned gaze to Neal’s angry countenance. He jerked his head toward the group as they settled at several tables near the large hearth.

Inhaling deeply and loosening her corset just a bit, she made her way over to the pirates.

“What can I bring you, boys?”

The captain looked up at her, and Emma felt her breath catch. Pirates, as a general rule, were not handsome, nor were they clean or well groomed. This man, however, broke- actually shattered- every one of those rules.

Inky black hair, just the right side of grabbable, flopped over his brow. His eyes were the color of the ocean, and his sharp jawline was covered with scruff the same color as his hair, with hints of auburn reflecting in the firelight. He was broad shouldered and lean, and she could just see the defined muscles of his chest in between the deeply opened shirt, over which he wore a blood red waistcoat. A silver necklace with several charms hanging from it lay nestled in a thick thatch of chest hair. The man was literally breathtaking.

Shaking her head slightly, she realized he was apparently just as dumbstruck by her as she was by him. His mouth hung slightly open, and stunned appreciation mixed with equal parts desire swam in his eyes. Never breaking his gaze, he reached for her hand and brought it towards his luscious mouth.

“Captain Killian Jones, milady,” he murmured, brushing her knuckles with his lips. “Might I have the honor of knowing your name?”

“Emma Swan.”

“Lovely to meet you, Miss Emma.” He kissed her knuckles again before speaking. “A round of ale for my crew, and a bottle of your best rum for myself and…” he trailed away, waggling his eyebrows, the invitation clear in his eyes.

“I’d be delighted, Captain,” she replied in complete honesty.

She turned away from the captivating captain toward Neal. Her steps faltered slightly as she took in the stormy visage on his face. As soon as she reached him, Neal grabbed her by the arm and all but hauled her over the bar toward him. She bit her tongue to keep from crying out, but the tears still gathered in her eyes from the pain of his vice-like grip.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you were looking at him,” he hissed in her ear. “Or the way he was looking at you.” He pulled back just enough to spear her with his gaze. “Just remember who you belong to. I’ll be expecting a hefty pay day when you return tonight.”

Emma didn’t answer him, but he released her and began to fill the round of tankards. He turned back to her, the anger in his eyes still clear. Her arm where he’d grabbed her throbbed as she picked up the full tray. She knew there’d be a colorful bruise there in the morning.

Approaching the pirates again, she took in the angry expression on the captain’s face and caught her breath. Where Neal’s gaze and anger were focused on her, the captain’s rage was directed at Neal. She knew he witnessed what Neal did and his apparent fury caused a feeling of safety that was wholly unfamiliar to settle around her shoulders. For all Neal’s talk of how much he loved her, how no one would care for her the way he did, just the few moments of interaction with Captain Killian Jones made it abundantly clear that everything Neal had been telling her for years was nothing more than a blatant falsehood.

A fierce longing rose in her chest. A longing to get away from here. A longing for freedom. A longing for… she didn’t know what exactly, but when she looked at him, she had a feeling she’d found it.

She set her burden down on one of the tables, Ruby and Mary Margaret right behind her, and started handing out the full tankards. She didn’t miss the smiles and brightened eyes between her friends and two of the more attractive pirates in the crew. It made her smile to herself as she turned toward the captain.

He stood and grasped her forearm gently, staying well away from where Neal had grabbed her. His eyes were filled with compassion and Emma’s heartbeat thundered in her chest in response.

“Are you alright, lass?” he asked.

She nodded. “I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “It’s no worse than what’s come before. Many times, in fact.”

Killian’s jaw clenched and his eyes flashed as he looked back at Neal. She held up the bottle of rum, catching his attention once again. He smiled, taking the bottle from her and grasped her hand in his own before leading her toward a more secluded table at the back of the tavern.

He sat down and drew her into his lap, then poured them both a drink. He was so gentle with her, she didn’t really know what to do with herself. Her experience with pirates was nothing short of brutal. One didn’t become a pirate captain by treating others, much less a bar wench, with gentleness. And her previous experiences only cemented that fact in her mind. In all the years she’d been “employed” here and all the men she’d “entertained” over those years, there had never been any thought or consideration for her comfort, her needs. Nothing but merciless violence against her body. The best she could hope for was a partner who was indifferent. At least then she wouldn’t be too bruised or even broken to move the next day. But the vast majority of the time, the patrons seemed to believe that the high price to engage her for the evening meant they could do literally anything they wanted to her, and they often did. Many times over the years, particularly cruel men had left her with broken fingers, a collarbone, and even ribs on one occasion.

But looking into Captain Killian Jones’ eyes now, she knew he was different from any other man she’d ever met.

She raised her glass to her lips and tipped it back, draining it in one swallow. The sweet burn down her throat made her hiss in pleasure before looking at him again.

“So tell me, Captain,” she purred, “What brings you to these parts? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

“That’s because you haven’t,” he affirmed, refilling their glasses. “If I’d ever met you before, you can be sure, I’d be back. Regularly.” His finger traced the apple of her cheek as she threw the drink back. The intensity in his gaze and tenderness in his touch set her heart aflutter, making it difficult to catch her breath. “At least until I could convince you to join me on board my ship.” He drained his glass and looked around at the seediness of the tavern, his teeth bared in disapproval. “To take you away from this.” He looked back into her eyes, the banked heat in his making a shiver work its way down her spine. “And to your question of what brings me here- opportunity. My fortunes in New England were rather dismal, so I thought we’d move south, see what I could find here to use to my, and my men’s, advantage.”

“I see,” she said. “And what have you found?”

His eyes darkened and his tongue darted out to lick his lips. Emma couldn’t breathe for a moment.

“I think my fortunes are looking up.” There was no doubt that he was talking about her. Fear gripped her. A fear of the unknown. A fear of the future. A fear of change. But curiously, not a fear of him. He moved toward her slowly, giving her ample time to pull away if she wished, before gently pressing his lips to hers. There was that word again- gentle. She’d never been treated with such gentleness and respect before. She gasped, her mouth opening for him. He immediately took advantage, but the gentleness was unchanged as his tongue met her own. The fear she’d felt before he kissed her melted away completely into trust and hope. Trust in him and hope for the future.

A low groan reached her ears as he pulled her closer to him, his hand tangling in her hair and cupping the back of her head as if she were a priceless treasure. Her arm still throbbed where Neal had grabbed her, but it didn’t stop her from wrapping her arms around him and holding on for all she was worth. His scent- notes of leather and the sea, along with something that was just inexplicably him- filled her nostrils, and another shiver worked its way down her spine as his other hand began to explore. The shadows were enough that she didn’t worry about anyone seeing what was going on between them in the corner, but as his lips left hers and trailed light, teasing kisses along her jaw and the slope of her neck, she knew they should adjourn to somewhere more private. Soon.

It almost killed her to do it, but she pulled away from him and stood. His pupils were blown with arousal and she could see the hard ridge of his cock through his leathers. Fingers still entwined, she tugged until he stood next to her. He grabbed the neck of the bottle with his other hand as she collected the two glasses in hers.

Not releasing his hand, she led him to the stairs that took them to the rooms above the tavern. As soon as the door shut behind them, Killian took the glasses from her and set them and the rum down on the small table by the door. He grabbed Emma and spun her into his arms, capturing her mouth with a passion she’d never known.

His fervent desire was tempered by a care and tenderness that had her blossoming under his touch. His tongue stroked hers, one hand resuming its place in her golden locks, the other stroking her exposed skin above her corset, lighting a fire within her that threatened to blaze out of control. His lips left hers again, trailing down her jaw, neck, and decolletage while his hands went to work on the laces of her corset. Emma’s head fell back as he lavished attention to the newly exposed skin, sucking her nipple into his mouth.

A shuddering exhale left her as his tongue circled the sensitive bud and his teeth gently bit down, bringing it to an almost painful point. He switched sides, his fingers attending to the neglected breast. The pleasure was almost too much, the coil in her belly tightening, tightening, and tightening even further. She knew what was happening, but it was something she’d never personally experienced before.

He moved them toward the bed on the other side of the room, his arms reaching behind her to loosen the skirt and petticoat she wore. His passion left her dizzy, but once they began moving, she went to work on his clothing- pushing the heavy leather duster from his shoulders before unsnapping the clasps from his waistcoat and finishing the buttons on his shirt underneath it all. Once his torso was bare to her, she buried her fingers in the hair on his chest, delighting in the softness she found there. She kissed her way down until she knelt before him, the laces of his leathers in front of her. She set to work with alacrity, Killian’s hands on her shoulders, gently caressing her skin. Tears, different from those earlier, filled her eyes. She’d never been the object of such unadulterated desire and tenderness before and it left her trembling with want and expectation.

She stood on the precipice of something, she knew not what, but every touch, every kiss, every sigh of pleasure only served to make her more certain that her life was about to change. Forever.

She pushed his leathers down his strong legs, his cock bobbing proudly in front of her. She looked up at his beautiful face through her lashes and licked her lips before darting her tongue out to the tip where a bead of precum gathered. Killian groaned as she went to work on him in earnest, sucking him between her lips.

“Gods, Emma! Yes, just like that, darling,” he moaned as she bobbed up and down on his length. She wasn’t nearly ready to release him when he tugged on her hair, pleading with her to stop. “I don’t want to come like this, love. Let me see you. Please,” he begged. She released him with a pop and stood before him on shaky legs, her skirt and everything underneath left on the floor.

“Gorgeous,” he breathed. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He stood staring at her a few moments longer before reaching for her hand and drawing her again into his embrace. His lips captured hers as he turned them toward the bed. Moving backward, she sat down heavily when her legs met the edge. She moved toward the headboard and Killian followed her, his eyes glowing with something she didn’t dare try to define. He moved up her body, kissing, stroking, nipping, and licking his way up. When his eyes landed on the hand shaped bruise on her upper arm, she saw a flash of anger and then a softness and care that she’d never had directed toward her as he leaned over the discoloration and kissed it softly. “I’m so sorry he did this to you, love,” he breathed.

She didn’t have a chance to respond before he captured her lips again. The tenderness and affection he showered her with, using only his tongue, was so overwhelming, she was almost literally melting in his embrace. His fingers ran lightly down her sides until he cupped where she was hot, wet, and wanting. She was so aroused, his finger slipped in easily sending her spiraling, chasing her release that was now closer than ever.

“Yes, that’s it, love,” he whispered in her ear, “Take what you need.” The tension within her was beyond anything she’d ever experienced. Pure pleasure pushing her higher and higher and higher until she thought she’d spontaneously combust from the exquisite torture she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to end. His lips and teeth closed over her nipple and the coil snapped with a blinding, mind numbing, cascade of bliss completely enveloping her. She floated on a cloud of euphoria for some time afterward before she became aware of herself and her surroundings once again.

She could only open her eyes halfway, the lids so heavy in the aftermath of her pleasure. She was met with eyes as blue as the sea filled with a joy and satisfaction that was wholly unexpected.

“There you are, love,” he murmured. “Did you enjoy that?”

She felt a wet stickiness on her belly and her eyes snapped open and looked down to where his cock lay flaccid. Heat flooded her cheeks and she covered her face in shame.

“Oh, Gods,” she cried.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he rushed to reassure her, “None of that.” He took her hands in his own and drew them away from her face. “When you broke, darling, I couldn’t stop myself. You were breathtaking.”

“But I…”

“No ‘buts’, Emma,” he crooned, kissing the tip of her nose. “We have all night. I’m not letting you get away. Not tonight. Not ever.”

Her eyes widened at his declaration. After his earlier statement of joining him on his ship, was he truly saying what she thought he was saying?

He drew her close into the shelter of his embrace and she touched her forehead to his chest. She knew he was different moments after meeting him, but his tenderness downstairs and then gentle lovemaking and his lack of indignation at her failure to meet his needs simply confirmed what her heart was telling her- she’d never met anyone like him, and she belonged with him.

“What do you mean?”

A tender kiss was placed on her head before he spoke. “When I saw what he did to you downstairs, I felt rage like I had never known,” he confessed. “That he could treat you like that, like nothing more than a possession, was more than I could stand.” His arms tightened around her even as his eyes darted between her own. “Come with me, Emma,” he urged her. “I can get you away from him. I’ll take you far from here. I’ll protect you. You can step into a new day. Tomorrow can be a new day for us both. Together.”

“How can you say that? You don’t know me at all,” she exclaimed. “You might be sorry you made this offer in a week, a month, a year.” She paused a moment, searching his countenance for any hint of a lie. She found none. “How do I know you won’t leave me?” she whispered.

“I don’t have to know you well to know that you are an extraordinary and precious woman,” he assured her. “One who does not deserve to be treated like I saw you treated downstairs. And if you consent to come with me, you will never be mistreated again.” He paused, looking intently into her eyes and stroking her cheek with his finger. “You’re a bit of an open book, and I can see in your eyes, my dear, you’re close to breaking. Breaking underneath the yoke he has on you. You can cut those ties. You can feel the weight of them disappear.”

She wanted to believe him. She desperately wanted to trust him. But the fear Neal had instilled in her over the years wasn’t so easily vanquished.

“Neal took me in when I was fifteen, an orphan and a runaway,” she said, tears filling her eyes. “It wasn’t always like this. He wasn’t always like this. He didn’t make me start doing this until I’d been with him a few years. But either way, all these years I’ve been with him, he’s made sure I was fed and clothed, had a roof over my head. He says he loves me, that I’m necessary to him. He’s made me necessary, Killian. I don’t know if I can walk away from that.”

“Emma, necessary means something you can’t do without,” he explained. “From what I observed downstairs, that is not how you treat someone who is necessary to you.” His darkened blue gaze pierced her own before he spoke again. “To me, however,” he took her hands in his and kissed the pad of each of her fingers in turn, “you are very much necessary. I can’t do without you. Please, Emma. Come with me. I’ll be your refuge,” he promised. “You’ll never have to fear again.”

She looked into his beautiful blue eyes and saw more there than she’d ever seen in Neal’s eyes. Could she do it? Could she really leave Neal and this life behind? The look in Killian’s eyes bolstered her weakened resolve and she nodded slowly before drawing his face down to hers for another kiss, full of love and tenderness. The kiss quickly turned heated, as tongues tangled and hands began to roam. She was barely touching him and he was already at half mast. She giggled into his mouth as she stroked him to full hardness. He thrust into her hands, a low groan passing his lips.

Pushing on his shoulders until he lay flat on the bed, she rose above him and straddled his hips, grinding down on his length. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and his hands gripped her hips tightly. She wouldn’t mind sporting those bruises the next day. He lifted her off of him, the strength necessary for that action making her mouth dry in desire.

“I need to taste you, darling. Please,” he begged. Emma was shocked. Oral was not something she’d ever had performed on her, although it was a rare night she wasn’t expected to do it for her clients. She caught her breath and slowly positioned herself over his face. A gasp escaped her lips as he licked a long stripe through her sodden folds and she bent over until she hovered over his rigid cock, bobbing proudly against his stomach. She licked and laved at the tip before closing her mouth over it.

Emma shuddered as Killian continued to work her and she put forth all her skill at wrecking him as he had wrecked her earlier. Killian’s fingers plunged into her channel and his lips sucked hard on her clit, sending her flying. She released him and shuddered through her climax. She was too sated to move, but she refused to allow what happened last time to happen again. She dragged herself around and positioned him at her entrance. Their eyes met, a dazed clash of viridian green and cobalt blue, as she sank down upon him. A rapturous chorus of moans emerged from them both and combined into a melodious duet as they moved together in a dance from the dawn of creation.

“Killian, I think…” she gasped, “I’m gonna…” she inhaled sharply as she ground down on him, falling over that precipice once again.

“Yes, Emma, darling,” he praised. “Take me there with you.” His hips met hers one last time and she felt his throbbing release deep within her.

Emma collapsed against him, thoroughly exhausted and sated. She’d heard that sex could be as pleasureable for the woman as it was for the man, but she’d never experienced it herself. And to climax three times? She never would have believed it if she hadn’t lived it. He was stroking her back, drawing nonsensical pictures into the sweat that remained on her skin.

“So you’ll come with me?” he asked. She had a sudden thought and raised her eyes to his.

“Can Ruby and Mary Margaret come with us?” she asked. “They’re my family, and they seemed to be getting on well with two of your men.”

“We’ll have to see how all of this pans out, but I give you my word, if they want to come with us, they will.”

She moved up and captured his lips with her own in a kiss full of gratefulness.

“Thank you, Killian.” She laid her head back down on his bare chest and drifted off to sleep.

~*~*~

The next morning, Killian’s eyes opened just as dawn touched the horizon. He looked down to see the beautiful Emma Swan still sound asleep in his arms. A small smile touched his lips as he thought back to their time together overnight. They’d woken twice after they initially came together, enjoying the pleasures of the flesh until the wee hours of the morning. He was surprised he was still awake so early after all that, but once a sailor, always a sailor. He’d probably wake with the sun for as long as he lived, no matter what happened the night before.

He sighed. It’d certainly be nice to awaken Emma slowly, erotically, but after the night they’d shared, she definitely needed her rest. And Killian had plans to make and provisions to acquire.

She’d agreed to come away with him. As his thoughts turned to the bastard who purported to “own” Emma, a frown furrowed his brow and he further tightened his arms around her. What would he give to be able to publicly denounce the man and avenge his treatment of his love?

His love.

Yes, he truly did love her. The connection he’d felt with her since she entered his field of vision the night before was something he’d never experienced. And then holding her in his arms and loving her throughout the night only settled that same conviction deep in his heart. He would never regret asking her to come away with him, to give him a chance to show her what love, true love, really looked like.

He disentangled himself from the beauty at his side and smiled when she snuggled down further into the blankets that had covered them. He washed in the basin and then donned his scattered clothing before he found a paper and pen on the small writing desk on the other side of the room. He wrote Emma a brief note explaining his absence and promising her that he’d return for her this evening after seeing to his duties. Reaching into one of the many hidden pockets inside his duster, he withdrew a bag of gold that would hopefully appease the ire Emma would surely be subject to for remaining with one patron for the entire night. He made his way back over to the bed and gently stroked his knuckles along the skin of her face before leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to her brow. He could just hear her soft breaths as she exhaled and it gave him such a sense of peace and well-being that he was loath to leave her.

But leave her, for the moment, he must. He’d return to her as the sun set.

~*~*~

Killian hadn’t made it back to The Dark Hollow as soon as he would’ve liked, but the sun had barely set when his long strides brought him up the cobblestone street, ever closer to his love. His men had gone on ahead and were no doubt enjoying themselves inside by this time. As he approached the establishment however, he heard a low cry from the alley behind it that made his eyes widen and then narrow in surprise and suspicion. Rage poured into his veins. He stopped at the entrance of the alley, just out of sight of the people hidden in the shadows within.

Stealthily poking his head around the corner, Killian could see the proprietor of the tavern illuminated by the lantern outside the back door, and opposite him, Emma, with yet another visible bruise marring her lovely skin. This one was blooming on her cheekbone and it was all he could do to contain himself and not reveal himself just yet. Taking a deep breath, he attended to the words the man was speaking.

“If he thinks a bag of gold will curry my favor, he is sorely mistaken! No one spends the entire night with you but me.” Killian watched as the man’s arm swung back and the crack of his hand meeting bare skin filled his ears. He then wrapped a section of her long golden hair in his fist and dragged her to her knees before him. Killian could hear the tears in Emma’s voice as she cried out and it nearly undid him. “When he comes back,” Killian could hear the sneer in his voice, “if he comes back…” the man paused, and Killian revealed himself, stepping into the light of the lantern, his cutlass gleaming in front of him.

“Oh, I’m back,” he informed the man, a manic grin lifting his lips. “And you will never lay another finger on Emma again.”

And with those words, he lunged toward his adversary, the wickedly sharp blade piercing his flesh like a hot knife sliding through butter. The look on his face was nearly comical in its surprise, and if the bloodlust created by the man’s abuse of Emma wasn’t singing through Killian’s veins, he probably would have enjoyed it. As things were, however, his innate sense of justice stood in stoic approval of the man clutching his abdomen as his lifeblood poured out of the not yet mortal wound. He fell to his knees, releasing Emma’s hair as he fell. Killian moved toward her, never releasing the blade still buried in the man’s gut, and gathered her close. Withdrawing his sword, he stood with Emma by his side and looked down at the pathetic and dying man.

He turned to Emma and watched as a mask seemed to fall over her face and she reached for the lantern by the door. Realizing what she meant to do, he stayed her hand and took it down himself.

“No, Emma,” he said. “I can’t allow you to do this. No matter what he’s done to you, vengeance isn’t the answer. This isn’t you.” Her countenance fell and tears began to fall unchecked down her cheeks. His sword clattered to the ground and he wrapped her in his arms, her tears soaking his shirt in moments.

A desperate cry as full of venom and hate as could be summoned from the depths of the dying man’s soul sounded from the ground below them before Killian was suddenly pushed back toward the wall of the tavern. The force wasn’t hard enough- the gravely wounded man hadn’t the strength for more- to make Killian release Emma, but it was surprising enough for the lantern to drop from his hand and land on top of the other man’s head, shattering the glass and covering his face with the oil. The flames leapt, engulfing him in moments. His screams pierced the night around them and before they knew it, the flames had spread to the back wall of the tavern. Emma turned terrified eyes on Killian.

“Run, hurry,” he told her. “Warn them! Get them out! You only have a few minutes.” She nodded and ran out of the alley toward the front of the tavern to get those inside, who had no knowledge of the danger they were in, out.

“Get out! All of you!” Emma cried, crashing through the door. Eyes skittering around the large room, she saw the attention of her friends, all of Killian’s crew, as well as a few others fly to her. “The Dark Hollow is going up in flames! Get out, NOW!”

Noone questioned her instructions and they all began running for the door. Emma could just begin to smell the smoke from the back of the tavern, as far away from the front door as could be. She saw Ruby and Mary Margaret being pulled along by two members of Killian’s crew and she breathed a sigh of relief when they all got out the door.

They quickly moved away from the burning building toward the harbor, just a short walk away.

“Emma! Emma!”

She turned back toward the inferno to see Killian running towards her, his silhouette lit up against the flames in the night.

“Killian!” she cried, running toward him. He caught her and swung her around in his arms before setting her back on the cobblestone street and kissing her like it was the last time he ever would.

Their lips parting, Killian rested his forehead on hers. “You’re safe, you’re safe now,” he promised. “He’s gone, never to hurt you again, and tomorrow is a new day. Leave the past. Don’t look back.”

Emma caught her breath at his declaration and brought his lips back to hers again in a fierce kiss.

“I never could. Not as long as I’m with you,” she assured him. “Take me away from here, Killian.”

“As you wish, my love.”

An hour later, they all stood upon the deck of the Jolly Roger as they headed out to sea. The flames of The Dark Hollow could still be seen and Emma felt like she could truly breathe for the first time in her life. She turned to the helm to see the man she loved handing it over to his first mate, a short, rotund man she’d heard the other men refer to as Smee. Killian came over to her and wrapped his arms around her, his fingers linking over her abdomen, mirroring the stances of his men whose arms were wrapped around Ruby and Mary Margaret.

“Ladies,” he greeted them, “Welcome to the Jolly Roger. I am her captain, Killian Jones. This is your home now, as long as you’d like it to be.” Emma glanced at her friends- her family- and saw the way they were looking at the men who held them close. She smiled softly, realizing they were in the exact same situation as she was. In love. True Love. “Some call us pirates,” Killian continued, “But we prefer to refer to ourselves as free men. We sail where we will and we answer to no crown.”

Mary Margaret turned and rested her head against the chest of a blonde headed man. “I’m right where I want to be,” she said. Emma smiled.

“My lieutenants, David Nolan, Purser, and Graham Humbert, Sailing Master,” Killian introduced, “My love, Emma Swan.” Emma felt her cheeks heat at the possessive pronoun he used for her. She nodded at the two men who responded in kind. “The gentlemen will show you to their quarters. I would assume,” he said, his eyebrows raised in question, “that you’d prefer to berth with them.”

“You assume correctly,” Ruby informed him before capturing Graham’s lips in a passionate kiss that he reciprocated quite enthusiastically.

Emma smiled at Killian as he waggled his eyebrows at her, before pulling her away from their companions and leading her toward the Captain’s Cabin. Once inside, she looked around the large space as Killian crossed to the lanterns scattered around the room and lit them, bathing the room in a soft glow. Once finished, he approached her again, seemingly a little shy. He scratched at a spot behind his ear and Emma smiled, glad that he perhaps was as nervous as she was.

The night before had been wonderful and entirely unexpected, but her life had just literally been turned completely around, and navigating the emotions surrounding those changes was going to be a challenge. But looking into his cerulean depths, she knew, just as she had the night before, that she was home. She was exactly where she belonged. At that realization, her nerves disappeared, replaced by a joy and peace she’d never known.

Killian hadn’t made any other move toward her, so she took his hands and wrapped them behind her, around her waist. She stepped toward him, into his embrace and he surrendered to her completely, kissing her passionately and tightening his arms even further around her.

“Oh, Emma, my love,” he breathed as he peppered light kisses along her cheek bone to her ear before gently taking the lobe in between his teeth. She felt his lips lift in a smile when she gasped at the sensation. He worked his way down the slope of her neck until he reached the top of her corset, tugging on her laces as she went to work on his.

He shuddered as she undressed him, desperate kisses and hands hungry for the touch of bare skin. As the last of their clothing fell to the floor, Killian lifted her in his arms, Emma wrapping her legs around his hips, and moved them toward the bed. She ground down on him, coating him in her juices, as he released a groan that she felt in her very core.

His hands were not idle as he laid her down on the bed. Eyes glowed with love and lust as they slowly roamed over her body, tracing all her curves and rediscovering all her secrets. His fingers found where she was so hot and wanting, and when he plunged them into her channel, she combusted around him, soaring as high as the main mast above them on the deck of the Jolly.

Opening her thighs for him, he settled between them and kissed her so gently, so tenderly, she felt tears fill her eyes.

“I love you, Killian,” she whispered, a single tear escaping.

“Shhhh,” he soothed, catching it on the pad of his thumb. “I love you, too, Emma. You will never have need to be afraid again,” he promised as he slid home.

He made love to her slowly, whispering endearments into her ear as his hands on her body and strong sure strokes pushed her higher and higher until finally, they came together in a cascade of unspeakable pleasure.

Floating together in each other's arms, the drift back to earth seemed to last a blissful eternity. Her limbs and eyelids were heavy, but she had one more thing to tell him.

“I think I can breathe again, Killian.” He hummed in response, fingers stroking the lines of her back. “You’ve given me my freedom. You’ve brought me out of the fire and into a hopeful tomorrow. Thank you.”

“Of course, my love,” he murmured. “You’ve faced the fear, cut the ties to your past, and reached out and grasped your future, your happiness with both hands. And I’ll be right by your side, into a lifetime of tomorrows.”

Feeling safer and more loved than she ever had before, Emma dreamed the dreams of peace, the dreams of hope, dreams with Captain Killian Jones by her side.

The End

~*~*~

Thank you all for reading and sharing! I’d love to know what you think! Happy birthday, Marta! I hope your day has been as wonderful as you are!!! 😘

#out of the fire into tomorrow #krystal writes #happy birthday marta #art by krystal #inspired by burn the ships #cs angsty august

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crybaby-bkg · 1 year

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wanna teach virgin Bakugou how to kiss and watch the confused scrunch of his eyebrow when he suddenly cums in his pants after sucking on his tongue and licking up the leftover spit sliding down his chin 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

#I was gonna write tonight #but my eyes burn BC IM SO SLEEPY #but refuse to sleep rn bc I’m too invested in shipping p*rn on twt lol #anyway I love this man #and vow to finish my therapist reader fic for him tomorrow (possible lie)#wish me some inspiration #—new treat in the streets! 🍫#bakugou treats! 🍬

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mandachuart · 1 month

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I --- I HAVE NO EXCUSE.

ITS THEM. Thats all I can say. THEM. I can't even describe how much brain rot I have with them!!! I've been going FERAL JUST THINKING ABOUT THEM.

ALSO.

@dipplinduo and I have been PLOTTING. Seriously, the only reason this picture exists is because of them. Being able to bounce ideas off of them has been so fantastic for my INSPIRATION. THEY ARE INCREDIBLE!!!

READ THEIR FIC. DO IT NOW. JOIN OUR BRAIN ROT:

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pinkfestivalpeanuttree · 3 months

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what's up *fingerguns*

this started out as a crackship i thought up in the shower but then i realized it had some serious hurt/comfort potential. uhhhh if anyone else finds this interesting enjoy 👍

#stp budding ashes #is what i'm calling them for now but if anyone has a better ship name idea i'm open to suggestions #obvs the burned gray is. burned. and all but if i recall correctly the cabin thorn route was also burned so i was inspired from that #epilogue's art #epilogue's stp art #stp #slay the princess #the thorn stp #the burned gray stp #the gray stp

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oubliette-odette · 6 months

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The Reluctance of Love Pt. 11

When I started writing this a month ago, it was quite honestly just a little drabble to keep my mind occupied during the middle of a really stressful move. And now I have fully invested myself to writing an entire novel...wtf. But truly, those of you who continue to interact and support this story - you have NO IDEA how much it means to me. I consider you all my friends because you take the time to love these boys as much as I do. So from the bottom of my heart, mad love to you all. 💚

And what's this? A new character enters the playing field!

Orc Male x Half-Elf Male, Fated Mates, Forbidden Love, Slow Burn Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 11, 12 Word Count: 2547 (average 19 min read) Content Warnings: mention of mating, homophobia, fantasy racism (the steamy bits are coming i promise folks - I'm antsy too) All orcish is from orcishdictionary.com, created by Matt Vancil. Not beta-read. Criticism is welcome, but be sure to distinguish criticism from hate. Thanx :)

“You look like you could use a friend.”

Inside the General Store, I heard the gentle, velvety voice behind me no louder than a whisper. I turned to see the violet-toned dragonborn that had nodded at me when I arrived in Berdusk. They had shocking purple eyes to match and they regarded me with a quiet, gentle atmosphere.

I nodded and turned to face them, bringing my chin down to show my respect. I wasn’t sure what to say, but the dragonborn took my forearm, and continued speaking. “Berdusk is a quaint city, but it is not the most welcoming. My name is Doxxah, what is yours, friend?”

I looked around and saw that the other shopper within the store were watching the two of us carefully, but not before making quick glances away. I looked back at the Dragonborn and managed to utter back, “Drunrag Ulurat.”

“Ah, I see your father in you.” Doxxah responded, “He’s an old friend of mine from days long ago. What brings you all the way to Berdusk?”

How did I answer? Knowing the present company around us, it didn’t feel safe to say anything.

Doxxah winked and patted my arm gently. “Why don’t you come with me back to my place? I’ll purchase whatever you need from here.”

“Oh, there’s no need.” I said, I lifted in my arms the small collection of fresh produce I had come to purchase, it was just enough to satisfy for the next week. I wasn’t ready to overcommit too much time here. Not if Altan and I could find a way to get him out.

“Please, you’re a guest in this town and I’d like to treat you.” The Dragonborn smiled, “Plus - don’t remind your father about this - but I still owe him a few favors that I’d like to clear my conscience of.” They then proceeded to gather the produce in my arms and carry it towards the counter where a glum man was waiting.

“Good morning Clarence.” Doxxah said cheerily, depositing all of their goods.

“Doxxah.” The man grunted, they seemed to begrudge having to be so polite to the Dragonborn and he looked up at me suspiciously. “You bring a lot of odd folk to our town.”

“Isn’t it lovely?” Doxxah responded. “It's about time we brought a little colour to the town.” Doxxah turned to wink at me before paying the man with their coins and carrying everything out.

Out in the streets Doxxah walked comfortably, confidently, it sometimes felt as if they walked like they were the most important person on the street. And people looked at them that way too.

“Just right here.” Doxxah said after passing a few buildings. I looked up to find myself in front of a bakery, a sign hanging that was cut and sanded down to the shape of a dollop of frosting. Walking inside, there was a rich aroma of cinnamon, vanilla and fresh, warm bread.

“Make yourself at home, I have just a bit of time before I have to open up the shop.” Doxxah moved briskly and comfortably about the space, dropping their sack of flower onto a counter in the back before throwing my produce into another sack and handing it to me. “Now, tell me, Drunrag, what’s your story?”

I still struggled to open my mouth. I suddenly realized just how…how silly I was being. How do I tell someone I was pining for the Duke’s son in a way that I was wholly unprepared for and traveled all the way from the Sword Coast just to make sure that he was okay and now was committing an indeterminate amount of time to break him free from his father’s controlling grip so we could potentially be something more than friends?

I ended up opening and closing my mouth multiple times before Doxxah let out an amused huff and shook their head. “You’re not a big talker, are ya?”

I shook my head.

Doxxah led me over to a set of table and chairs - considerably large in size to fit us comfortably - and swept across the store, retrieving a steaming cup of tea and a plate of many pastries that they placed in front of me.

“Let me ask you this, friend, are you in any dire need?”

I shook my head, “No. Thank you.”

“Are you looking for a job?”

I pondered the question. It had already been a week since I last saw Altan and neither of us had been able to see each other. There was no knowing how long it would take to find an opportunity to see him again and my funds weren’t bottomless.

Doxxah tapped a clawed finger on the table. “I could use someone with some stamina and strength in my bakery. Would you be interested?”

I nodded, “Yes. Thank you.”

“Wonderful, that’s two favors down now!” Doxxah exclaimed, “Soon, your father will be owing me!” They laughed before they suddenly sobered and looked at me intently. “Listen here, Drunrag. Berdusk isn’t the friendliest town when it comes to newcomers. You have to have grit to make it around here. People will stare at you. They might say things that show their ignorance. But there are good people here too, and they’re the ones worth staying for.”

Altan’s face came to my mind at their words, a warm feeling forming within me.

“Now, you eat up while I get this shop open. If you feel like helping I only ask that you get that gunk out from beneath your nails.”

My cheeks burned as I looked down to see black beneath each of my nails. I uselessly wiped my fingers across the front of my shirt and watched in a daze as Doxxah once again moved like a whirlwind as they flung open windows, propped the door open and summoned from the back of the store fresh trays of all sorts of delicious looking breads, pastries, and muffins. My mouth salivated even midchewing through my own pastry.

From inside the warm comfort of Doxxah’s bakery, I could look out and see Berdusk in a different light. It was a quaint town, full of small little businesses like Doxxah’s that offered small comforts for folks. It was a more rich town than where I had been and the streets were clean, well swept and the people who walked them were well-dressed and friendly-looking - at least to each other.

I was surprised to see a customer walk in not moments before the shop opened and even more surprised to see it was the man who had been riding alongside the Duke last week. His hair was brown, long, and he had a full beard that concealed much of his expression. His eyebrows were thick and furrowing and he had a very serious look to him.

“Gaius!” Doxxah exclaimed. “Been a long time! Day off?”

He shook his head, “No, just a late start.”

“How are the young lordlings?”

My ears perked at the question and I listened intently.

Gaius nodded solemnly, “With the eldest Hilmar back, the younger ones seem to be in bright spirits. However, that eldest boy…he feels like a fish out of water.”

Doxxah hummed agreeably, “I pity the poor things. To be raised by a man who’s greatest love is power….” There was a lull in the conversation, it felt awkward and somber. Doxxah quickly perked up, “Tell me, how is Del and the babe?”

Gaius’s eyes brightened and I could see beneath the beard the lift of his lips as he broke into a nervous laugh. “Del is well, not more than a month before the baby should be here.”

I watched quietly from my corner as Doxxah and the large man interacted. Doxah seemed to have an intense amount of charm that helped them ease into any conversation. I could see how much the man was easing around them.

“Well, you tell me when the baby is coming, I know a thing or two about delivering little tykes. You tell Del that, will you?” While Doxxah talked, their hands were doing their own thing, pulling small moon shaped rolls and a loaf of bread from trays and carefully placing them into a paper box, tying it off with a ribbon and handing them to Gaius.

“I will, thank you.” Gaius said, his voice was low, like a rumble from a weighted wheel on a wagon - it reminded me of my father’s - and he paid her before turning to leave. As he turned, his eyes met mine and I saw that he recognized me from last week. He gave me a gentle nod before turning and walking out of the shop.

“Who is that?” I braved to ask.

Doxxah tried to read me before answering, “Gaius Gideon. He’s Berdusk born and raised and is proud of it. He’s the Commander of the Phoenix Legion. They’re the armed defense and security that exists around the town. He’s currently stationed at the Duke’s Hall. He’s been gone for quite a few weeks, heard he was escorting back the eldest son of the Duke who ran away.”

“Altan.” I said aloud, not thinking.

Doxxah raised an eyebrow, “So you’ve heard of him?”

I nodded, “He’s…” I looked down, my fingers caught between each other. “We’ve met.”

“Ah, I believe I’m beginning to paint the picture of why you’re here.” Doxxah said, an understanding tone in their voice. “Close friends?”

My throat tightened at the question, all I could do was nod.

Doxxah chuckled and turned their attention to their baked goods. “Perhaps you would like to join me when I make my weekly delivery to their cook?”

“You deliver to the Duke?”

Doxxah puffed their chest, “Well naturally! There’s no better baker in town than me. I’ve got to keep the shop open for a bit this morning, but once the fresh loaves are out, we’ll take them straight to the Duke’s Hall? Will you come?”

I nodded, my heart was already pounding inside me at the news.

The hours dragged by, but I did my best to be of help to Doxxah. While they were busy decorating small cakes and tarts, I was busy transferring bags of flour from one storage area to another. Shifting and rearranging things as Doxxah directed felt like a lot of busy, meaningless work, but I was grateful for the distraction.

At the peak of the day, Doxxah announced that the goods to be delivered to the Duke’s kitchens were ready and they handed me a stack of boxed goodies and we were on our way straight up the hill, towards the Duke’s Hall.

The guards said nothing as Doxxah led us through and my eyes were transfixed on the building that loomed before me. It was impressive and surely expensive architecture and there were armed men everywhere I looked, but also gardens, fountains, fragrant flowers and many sets of stairs that eventually led to the double doors into the Hall. I struggled to take it all in while I was also balancing the stack in my hands.

The armed men at the double doors gave a polite nod before opening the doors wide and letting us through. Doxxah hummed as they walked down the hallway. The halls were tall and wide open. I believed it was the first time that I ever felt small and I couldn’t keep up with everything that I was seeing. Candelabras with dozens of candles illuminated the halls and paintings of long dead historical leaders spanned the length. There was a plush rug beneath my feet that I worried was being soiled by my boots.

Doxxah turned down many halls that kept me confused and very lost, but eventually we passed down one where I started to catch the whiff of hot food on the stove. I was about to follow Doxxah into the kitchen. The cooks were delighted to see the delivery and we handed them off without a hitch. Doxxah was leading me back out, our hands empty now. I trusted them to lead us out, because I couldn’t remember a single turn we made.

As we worked our way back down the halls, I noticed many halls crossed into others and I enjoyed peering down them, wondering where they would all lead to.

I stopped when I found one that led to a dead end, with a tall, rounded window and a young man sitting in a window seat, sketching.

“Altan.” I breathed.

I didn’t know if he had heard me, or if he just knew I was there, but he looked up and his copper curls danced against his cheeks and I felt the warmth of the sun inside me.

His sketchbook slipped from his hands and he stumbled onto his feet, “Drunrag?” He exclaimed before tripping to get towards me.

I closed the distance to catch him and I found him suddenly in my arms. All of the warmth and sunshine inside him seeped into me. I was selfishly wishing to feel more of it.

‘Are you alright?” I asked, my voice no louder than a whisper.

He nodded, his mouth hung open as he clung to me. “How did you - what are you - why are you here?”

I smiled gently, “I…I got a job.”

“What? You did?” He swiveled his head around me and saw Doxxah standing at the end of the hall, a knowing smile on their face. “With Doxxah?”

I nodded, “I’m staying here until…” I didn’t know what to say: until we’re together? Until you’re safe? Until you’re mine? All of those felt so…intense and final.

Altan’s mouth opened into a wide smile. “You’re incredible, you know?”

“Me?” I shake my head. “No, not me. You…” I couldn’t look away from him. “It’s you.”

I think we both found ourselves blushing at what we both said and I suddenly became very aware of his hands being dwarfed in mind. And the warmth that exuded from him made something in me feel alive.

“I…I should go.” I said. "You are alright?”

He nodded, his expression became more sober. “I’m sorry Drun. I wish I could just leave with you…” His hand was suddenly on my chest and I felt a zing of delight course though me. “I understand if you can’t stay.”

“Don’t give up on me.” I said. “Please.”

He let out a sharp release of breath, “Drun, I could never…I just don’t when…”

I shook my head, “I’ll be here whenever it is.”

“Commander Gideon, what a surprise after this morning!” Doxxah exclaimed, louder than normal.

Altan jerked his hand back and I jumped back and looked to see that Doxxah was giving us a wink before turning her attention away. My cheeks burned as I looked over to Altan who had already turned away and was back in his seat on the windowsill, his head buried in the sketchbook.

“A pleasant reunion during my short interlude between meetings, Mx Doxxah.” Commander Gideon observed. He bowed to Doxxah, then saw me, saw Altan, looked back at me before making a slight nod in my direction. I bowed my head.

“Deliveries are made, so we’ll be getting back. Just said hello to the young lord.” Doxxah explained before bowing their head and guiding us down the hall.

The Commander bowed his head and continued one and I followed Doxxah going the opposite direction, my head spinning.

“You were holding out on me, Drunrag. You two are close friends.” Doxxah said, their voice teasing. “Very close friends.”

“Shut up.” I managed to say.

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tiend · 1 year

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A war is an ecological disaster as much as it is any of the other kinds. When it is over, when they win, when the Republic becomes the Empire and begins to inflict its peace across the galaxy -

There's an army of men, bought and paid for, that it doesn't need. Can't demobilise or repatriate. Battle droids you can wipe and recycle. Men? Not so much. Especially the ones that are injured too badly to make it as stormtroopers and not badly enough to not be a threat if they chose to organise themselves against the Empire.

In the years of their fighting they have left a considerable mess behind them, across Christophis, Felucia, Geonosis. Convenient, then, fitting, that they're the ones who get to clean it up, ammunition dumps and burnt-out hulks and UXO and the accretions disks of dead capital ships with the frozen corpses of their dead brothers amidst the rest. Exploded buildings and rubble and twisted beams and jagged skyscrapers like broken teeth. Shipbreakers and smelters.

The Empire skimps on their protective gear. Alternatively it is fiscally responsible by mandating contracts are awarded to the lower bidder. Whatever the reason, the clones die to UXO, to vacuum, to dormant commando droids. Not many people care; at least they're being useful. Might has well get all the use out of them while they can.

Some deaths take longer; fine dust to scar up their lungs, or improperly stored tibanna rotting through the tanks to pollute the soil. Felucia's microbes slowly wending their up the spinal cord to erupt in the brain years later.

So they're broken up into smaller groups. Ground down by attrition and exhaustion. Some desert. Some find a place among established scavenger crews. Many die, and their deaths are logged in Imperial spreadsheets by Imperial bureaucrats who go home to their loving families and think nothing of it.

#inspired by finding out there are WWII ships with UXO rotting away in the Thames estuary #and burn pits and the dust of DU and trenches dug in into the soil of Chernobyl #and the Empire needing to do something with demobbed clones #no home to send them to but don't want them to organise #or anyone to organise behind them #use them up and throw them away #post clone wars #what happened to the clones #only the dead know the end of the war #headcanon #meta

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vanillashusband · 1 year

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he didn't even wait for an answer

🧡TAGLIST: @selfshippinglover @sunstar-of-the-north

#Self ship #self ship art #self shipping #self shipping community #self insert #self insert community #s/i x f/o #s/i community #crk #personal guardian angel 【♡】#hunk of burning love 【♡】#at home with you 【♡】#riding the waves of love 【♡】#pulled home by fate 【♡】#fly by moonlight 【♡】#darkness set alight 【♡】#where the petals fall 【♡】#thank you cici hgjhg your comment on my fic inspired this 😭

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domoskysplit · 2 years

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Feel free to question/ask me something!

When your husband is a homicidal tyrant but you love him very much:

#ninjago kai #ninjago au #ninjago #ninjago zane #Inspired by that one lana del rey burning car meme pfp #Opposite shipping #Their married #emperor kai #Ice emperor #DualEmperor!AU

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marivenah · 1 year

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I want a taste of you / I wanna walk with you / wherever you go to / I wanna hurt with you / whatever you go through / I do too - (x)

#oc: yuna neuer #x: take my heart #myedit*#this is their main verse which is *technically* a college au that's also why they're so young #found this really cute ship t*mplate and wanted to try it!#i struggled with that love letter part as you can see lmao #almost didn't post this because i wasn't really feeling it #idk i feel like i need a break from edits and art? I'm lacking motivation and inspiration lately. feeling kinda burned out

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devoutgremlin · 9 months

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i love romance media that's like "watch the two dumbest motherfuckers alive try to figure out they're in love with each other"

#romance #writing #i thought my fav trope was slow burn but it's actually this #destiel #not who inspired this post but lbr #this can be applied to so many ships

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booksteaandtoomuchtv · 7 months

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Burn The Ships (1/5)

THIS IS/WILL BE MATURE.

NOW WITH BEAUTIFUL COVER ART BY @snowbellewells

AO3 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

Summary: Pan and his pack of gruesome werewolves torment and put an end to individuals who find themselves unlucky enough to be a guest of Neverland. After being betrayed by her ex, Emma finds herself the game in this month’s hunt.

Captain Hook has never found the sport particularly alluring, preferring to spend his change far from Pan’s cruel crew. When he catches the scent of his mate, he is forced to join in the hunt to find her before the others can.

Saving her will mean betraying Pan and no one betrays Peter Pan and lives to tell about it.

@anmylica, @deckerstarblanche, @elfiola, @goforlaunchcee, @jrob64, @kmomof4 , @pirateswhore, @stahlopp, @teamhook, @tiganasummertreee, @undercaffinatednightmare, @xarandomdreamx, @zaharadessert

Author Note: This little fic is a birthday gift for the always encouraging and absolutely wonderful @kmomof4. I was initially drawn to Moonlight Sonata because it is also one of my favourites and the story behind the song felt like Killian meeting Emma for the first time. (I also love Für Elise but it doesn’t make me think of CS as much as Snowing and I cannot really explain that.) Then, I thought “oooh, CS PHANTOM OF THE OPERA?!” for about thirty seconds before realising that maybe I did not want to take that on while I was trying to finish up Witchy Woman and plotting the CS Miraculous Fic and that one Bridgerton-based CS Fic. But, then, I listened to Burn the Ships and read about the inspiration behind those lyrics and absolutely knew that was the one. What is more Captain Swain than battling demons (internal and external) and enduring together? Anywhoosies, HAPPY BIRTHDAY (this month)!! Thank you so much for all the flails, the sanity checking, the gifs, the cheerleading, and for just generally being one of the brightest lights in all of our lives. (Edit: atge birthday is on the 15th, I know. This whole thing happened where this was a two-parter and now it is a whole long thing and the posting schedule SHOULD work out so the whole thing is done by the 15th.)

Emma woke to the harsh sunlight infiltrating the discoloured curtains hanging limply over the large window her lumpy mattress had been pushed against. This was the worst part of her day - these moments in which the lie of her dreams, even the worst of them, gave way to the nightmarish truth of her reality. She fought against the dread seeping into her heart and tried to hold on to the last remnants of her dream, but it faded away as the scarred wardrobe came into clearer focus before her.

Despair, however, was less easily shaken. That endless emptiness accompanied her as she started toward the water basin to splash cold water on her face. Her gaze lifted to meet the empty emerald eyes she knew would stare back at her. She had watched helplessly as the hope drained from them, over the last several months, taking with it the anger and defiance that once glimmered behind them.

Fantasies, like hope, were for those with people or a pack, who cared. Lone wolves, orphaned at birth and betrayed to the monster who ruled this island by their shitty ex-fiancées, weren’t missed. And without any to notice your absence, who would know to rescue you?

“Cheer up,” a cheerful boyish voice chirped from behind her. She jumped and spun around - having your back to the demon was never a good idea. Pan was there, in the middle of the dreary room, looking at her with a dark sort of crazed humour dancing behind his eyes. That look meant he had a new twisted game to play. Her stomach fell and icy fear gripped her heart - losing came at a high price in Neverland and she always lost.

“As you doubtlessly know, the moon will be full tonight.” Pan paused and waited for her to respond. As if any wolf would be oblivious to the phases of the moon, she buried her annoyance at the patronising question and nodded for him to continue. “Tonight, I am letting you out of the garden. You’ll get to run the length of the island.”

Emma knew there was a catch, but after spending several transformations pacing the tiny gated garden, the prospect of running had her heart racing with excitement.

“As you lead us in tonight’s hunt.”

Her blood turned to ice in her veins. She was going to die tonight.

§§§§ §§§§ §§§§ §§§§

“OOOHHHH, CAPTAIN!” A sing-song voice called from somewhere high on the main mast.

“Pan, to what do we owe this unexpected visit?” Hook called back genially. He swept his arms out wide, in a welcoming gesture, discretely sliding the small vial into a hidden pocket of his coat.

Pan flew lower, hovering just above head height, forcing Killian to look up at him. A sweet scent filled the air between, something soft and warm. Killian couldn’t hear Pan's next words as the wolf within tried to locate the source of the scent. With the change coming so soon, Killian knew he would struggle to fight the impulses of the wolf. He had to get away from this enchanting distraction before Pan noticed his attention was elsewhere.

“Let’s discuss whatever business you have away from listening ears.” Hook gestured toward the ladder leading to his quarters, hoping the breeze would not penetrate the boards.

“As you well know, the hunt will be tonight. I do hope you and your crew will attend.” Pan started, as Killian filled a glass with rum in an effort to steady himself. The room around him was saturated with the warm - Vanilla? No, not quite. What is the point of being a bloody wolf if I can’t determine a bleeding smell? - scent. Could a scent be alluring and inviting? Because Killian felt an inexplicable sense of contentedness, something cosy he was drawn to like the heat of a fire, that seemed directly related to the sudden arrival of the scent. Was this possibly a new torture device derived from this cruel realm?

"What do you say, Captain?" Pan sneered, the last word sounding as an insult rather than a well-earned title.

"I'll not be joining your pack of savage, cruel beasts as they set out to torment an innocent you have captured for a barbaric ritual of bloodlust and cruelty."

"We're all wolves, Hook," Pan responded. "You can keep to your ridiculous code, acting as though you are a gentleman despite the tasks you perform in your service to me. But, you cannot deny that the same blood-thirsty animal lives under your skin. One day, you'll relish letting the darkness play alongside my pack. We're the same at the heart of it."

"I am nothi…"

"Ah, ah, Captain, you wouldn't want to say anything regretful, now, would you?" Pan smiled his cruelest smile and Killian swallowed down his annoyance. The last time Killian had crossed Pan still hurt as fresh as the night Pan’s pack had stolen Milah’s pup from his ship. Killian heard Bae’s weak howls from the depths of the Mermaid Lagoon and raced toward his ship as quickly as possible in the dense jungle. When his paws landed with heavy thuds on the wooden gangway, the overly sweet, coppery smell of blood filled the air - air that was notably barren of any of the sounds or scents that had made the Jolly Roger home. Without even a single survivor to share the burden of grief and burial, laying his sailors to rest had taken days - purging the Jolly of all evidence of the massacre had taken much longer.

“Aye,” Killian growled out.

“Good, lad.” Pan evaporated, leaving him alone in his cabin. The sweet scent that had entranced him moments before faded away. Realisation dawning, Killian swore but did nothing to soothe the sudden rage burning hot through him.

The bloody demon had his mate.

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