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chrollohearttags · 6 months

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“silly boy, come find me when you’re older!” • a. artlert

synopsis: two lovers realize their relationship isn’t meant to be but that doesn’t mean they have to part ways forever..

content + themes: fem!reader (black coded), age gap (2-3 years, armin is 19, reader is 21-22) college au-ish (armin is going to nursing school + reader is a business grad), star-crossed lovers trope, angst + comfort, missionary, riding, hand holding, heavy kissing, crying (not dacryphila), accidental creampie, pet names (baby, mama, baby boy, angel), drug mentions, he gets possessive for like .2 seconds.

word count: 3.1K

📝: I have been so in love with fluff and the idea of soft smut lately (maybe it’s the holidays, maybe it’s my hormones..who knows!) but this is a part of a new au I’m starting! A new story that’ll be coming out soon and I can’t wait. For now, enjoy one of several side fics to accompany it! Also, please tell me y’all know this title reference 😭

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰───────✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰────

“I really wish you wouldn’t look at me like that…”

the phrase seemed to have alluded him yet again..slipping through one ear and out the next. Almost as if only his body was present and his mind and spirit were elsewhere. It was to be expected though..

“..armie..? Aren’t you going to say something, baby? Anything?..”

you had just confided in him quite possibly the worst thing ever. In truth, his heart was breaking and there wasn’t a single thing that either of you could do to mend it. Although, you felt solely responsible..that the reason for his pain was entirely your fault. But it was a necessary confession nonetheless. One that you truly believed would benefit you both. Distance. Distance between the two of you so that he could properly pursue his education. A long sought after dream of becoming a nurse. Following directly in his mother’s footsteps and making her proud..it was all Armin ever wanted. As it stood, that was a mere concept and it was thanks to the girl lying next to him. His sweet, beloved (y/n). The (y/n) he reunited with at a house party one night and had been wildly entangled with ever since. Hooking up, drinking and smoking…what most peers your age was doing but you also had bigger aspirations for both Armin and yourself. He wanted to become a registered nurse, working with children and you were already two years deep into your collegiate journey as a business major. Laser focused and ambitious..ready to conquer your goals. You couldn’t waste your lives away in the back of his car, hotboxing and having sex. As fun as this little whirlwind romance was, you had to cut things off. At least for the foreseeable future..for both of your sakes. It wasn’t an easy decision in the slightest and you were far more torn up by the situation than what you were letting on but it had to be done. Regardless of your emotions..

“..I just don’t understand..I mean, is there someone else? Why don’t you want me anymore?…”

there it was..underneath all of those newly etched tattoos, shaggy blonde locks and suave charm lied that sweet, gentle boy. The same nerdy kid you’d first encountered whilst attending the same high school. Although two years apart, you found him to be adorable and couldn’t help but to grace the awkward brainiac with a smile every morning on his visits to the library. A beautiful goddess like you even acknowledging him? He was grateful for that alone! But it wasn’t until his senior year did the two of you reconnect. By that time, he had shed his thick, wire framed glasses for icy blue contacts to match his own..grew out his blonde bowl cut to a curly shag and had even acquired a couple of art pieces on his arm. Not to mention, gained some muscle from playing basketball. Some say you were the catalyst for his sudden change. Although this appearance was new, deep down, he was still that wide eyed genius with unbelievable intelligence. And best believe, your kindness wasn’t lost on him. So it came as no surprise, when you happened to cross paths with him at a graduation party that your younger sister, who happened to be in the same class with him, was attending..he found the courage to finally talk to you face to face. All of his newfound confidence flew out of the window when he saw you..that ethereal skin, deity like features and of course, that smile. That smile that made his heart flutter. “You haven’t changed a bit, baby boy…”

certainly his looks had, but you saw through all of that. You saw Armin for who he truly was and for that, he couldn’t allow you to slip away without confessing his true feelings. So that night, with liquor in his veins, he charmed you with sweet words and told you that he’d always had the biggest crush on you. It didn’t take long for you guys to get involved..days after that party, you began seeing one another. Both romantically and intimately. However, your relationship wasn’t exactly conventional or ideal..you were good for each other, perhaps a little too well. Because every moment that presented itself, you’d find yourself in every bed, couch, bathroom or backseat..going at it like rabid animals. The sex was insane and you couldn’t get enough of each other. It was only coupled by the sensation of the drugs coursing your veins..stimulants that sent your mind to places you didn’t need to be. Although there was never a single fight between you two, you knew the relationship wasn’t a healthy one. You encouraged each other’s worst habits. He had gotten a full ride scholarship to his dream school and you had obtained several as well for your ideal program. But you both stood to lose those if you didn’t make some changes. Ditching class to go smoke and then fucking him in every square inch of your off campus apartment. Sending him nudes and salacious messages during class, along with always being underneath each other. He’d never be able to focus and stay on track at this rate! Hence why you had to be the mature one and break things off. Even if it brought you to tears as well. So with a shaky palm, as you lay in bed next to one another, you’d bring a hand to his face and quell his doubts.

“You couldn’t possibly think that..you're the only one I want, Armin. I swear on everything..but..we can’t keep doing this. I love you so much but we’re no good for each other. At least not right now..”

but he’d attest, almost immediately. Insisting that he could buckle down and focus on his goals at hand. However, your mind was made up. That blind obsession and adoration for you would never allow him his room for growth. It wasn’t fair. Here you were only another year shy of receiving your degree and he was barely even started. You had to give him a fair shot, even if it meant removing yourself from the equation. You had even found an internship. He’d try to talk you out of it, convince you that he could juggle both college and you but regardless of how smart he was, nursing school was an entirely different beast in and of itself. It would require his full attention and dedication if he wanted to be an exceptional caregiver. No drugs, no distractions…no you. His studies deserved all of his time.

“So why can’t we make it work then? Isn’t that what couples do or was I nothing more than a joke?”

“Armin…”

in that moment, he’d tug away and roll over onto his side, giving you the proverbial cold shoulder and it stung like hell. The last thing you wanted to do was fight the man you loved. If anything, you wished things could stay like this forever. But you both had growing up to do and until that happened, it was best you parted ways.

“..I have an idea..”

But it wasn’t something that had to be permanent..for now though, there was no need to be upset with one another when you could spend your remaining time enjoying yourselves. Gently pulling him back towards you, you’d maneuver your legs until you were able to crawl on top of him. Those long acrylics scaled his freshly tattooed chest as you gently straddled his waist..at that moment, his little cheeks flushed red and you’d feel his breathing becoming slightly heavier. You’d lean down and begin peppering light kisses to his temple and all around his face..all while slowly rolling your hips against his crotch. With you, he was vulnerable..at his softest and would undoubtedly listen to whatever you said. “I’m all ears..”

that’s when you’d devise a plan that you believed that both of you could agree upon. An agreement of sorts.. “..two years..in two years, we can see each other again, just like this. We’ll work hard and reach our goals. You’ll be in your senior year, doing clinicals and I’ll be at my new job. We can find a place and finally start our lives together. Armin, I love you so much and I don’t want to see you throw your life away. Please..promise me you’ll find your way back to me when you’re ready. When we’re both in a better place..” once he spotted your tearful plea and heard the tone in your voice, he knew what had to be done. Personal feelings aside..you were absolutely right. He knew if he stood any chance of keeping you in his life, he had to blossom into a grown man that you could be proud of. One that was worthy of being called yours. Reaching up, Armin would grasp your hand and bring it to his lips for a gentle kiss, holding it close. He wanted to remember that feeling..savor it and savor you as well. God, he didn’t want you to leave, he wasn’t ready to say goodbye!..but this was the only way. The only way he could ensure that he got to have you in the long run. He wanted you two to grow old together so he’d make this temporary sacrifice to be able to share an eternity with you.

“..you have my word, angel. I promise..I promise I’ll come back to you a better man than what I’ve been..”

“Then take me…right here.”

just then, you’d feel his hand snake up your spine and tug you down towards his chest..not another word was exchanged. Just slow, tender pecks and breathy moans..immersed in the covers and in one another, you’d allow the moment to take you both. Your palms cupping his cheek and his gripping your ass, you’d tousle around underneath the sheets. It didn’t take long for the endearing moment to become rather heated but it was a true testament of the passion between you two. In a moment of haste, his nails would gently dig into the curvature of your back as you leaned up. In a matter of minutes, you’d feel his once flaccid erect growing harder underneath you. The sensation of your dripping heat making direct contact with him..and it was driving him crazy! He needed you so badly right now and you were just the same.

“Armieeee..”

calling out with a high pitched whimper as you ground yourself against him. You couldn’t stop either..almost as if you’d simply combust if you were to be pulled away from him right now. Frail cries would escape his lips as well but he’d find a semblance of control to satisfy your desires, which took precedence over everything else.

“Yes, baby? Tell me what you need..”

cooing to you in that sweet, loving tone that always managed to turn you to meet putty in his hands every time. You were still hopelessly rutting yourself against him; arousal overflowing from between your thighs that quickly. He knew what you wanted but he needed to hear you say the fateful words..give him instruction and guidance the way you had always done. “Hey, look at me, mama..” gently snatching your head forward and forcing eye contact as your chest heaved. “N-need you. Need you so bad, baby..please. Make love to me..” and with that whiny declaration, he’d make haste in fulfilling your wish. With a cocked smile, Armin would reign you in tighter, reaching for you. “Then here..take my hands, angel..” on his command, your hands would join in a gentle clasp, combining as one as you adjusted your lower half to align with his. He’d buck his hips upward and you’d lower yourself down as your bodies became one… meeting in an instant. “Fuck…” the word escaping your mouths simultaneously along with gentle moans. That seemed to be the theme for the night. A stark comparison to the wild nights you shared together previously. Perhaps.. it was the realization that this was really the last time you’d get to do this for a while. That he wouldn’t be able to feel the comfort of your body, to smell your intoxicating scent..to clash with your plump lips..to taste the sticky gloss that coated them. To stare into those gorgeous brown eyes. So as he lie underneath you, being rode to kingdom come as your tightness constricted around him once more, Armin would close his eyes and absorb every memory, every fiber of you..ensuring that he’d never forget his first and true love.

“There you go, baby. Right there..ride me—fuck!”

and he couldn’t possibly forget how you made him feel. How you set him ablaze with your overwhelming passion..still bound hand in hand, heart to heart, you’d keep going. Throwing your head to the wind and calling out your lover’s name, lifting it to the heavens as you bounced up and down. Taking him to your hilt; allowing that swollen tip to prod your most sensitive area. “Armin, baby! Yes..oh my gosh, you feel so good.” For the first time, you didn’t just fuck him. His flesh was more than a mere vessel of pleasure..it was your soul becoming one with his own. You were experiencing true pleasure in its purest form..and neither of you wanted it to end. Finally opening his eyes, he’d be greeted by the ethereal view of your breasts swaying and your beautiful face throwed in ecstasy filled bliss. “Aw, baby..you’re so beautiful. My favorite view in the entire world.” Smiling as tears streamed generously down your cheeks. “Oh my God—I love you, Armin! I love you so much.” Confessing with all that you could muster. And that warm, gushing sensation derived from your sex wasn’t lost on Armin either. He’d find himself in a fit of heaving as your walls closed in around his cock. Squeezing him as if to never let go. “Ahh!-shit..I love you too, baby!—“

in that moment, he could no longer hold back his urges. His need to claim full dominion over you..hastily, he’d bring you to a cease before maneuvering and flipping you over onto your back. It was then that he’d mount you. Diving between your legs as he held each in place. He didn’t even take a moment to adjust. It was mere seconds before you’d find yourself filled with him yet again and he’d begin his descent into your mix. Sloshing and drumming up slick as your thighs collided in a fiery haze. The bed..the one that you’d messed around in so many times before served as the place of consummation for your devotion tonight..ricocheting and colliding with the wall as thunderous slams erupted. Your limbs entangled as your legs found home around his waist and your arms on his back. His entire frame lay bare and pressed to your own as those hips crashed into you. It felt unreal..so unbelievably unreal. But this was the present..your reality for the time being so you’d savor every last moment you got together. Drilling further into your body, his pace sped to a barrage of more steady, consistent strokes. Ones that he would accompany with sloppy tongue kisses. Filling your mouth with them as he pounded you gently. You couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. Regardless of how many times you slept together, something about this moment was starkly different. “Look at me, (y/n)!…” once again, snatching your head forward to meet his gaze. “You’re mine..you’re mine and I don’t give a damn where you go. I belong to you, you hear me? Don’t forget that..” those tears that had been brimming in his eyes finally fell and you’d affirm his sentiment with a fierce nod of your head, assuring him that no amount of distance or time could ever dissipate the love you shared for one another. “Yes baby! And I’m all yours, forever. I won’t ever leave you.” Sealing your promises with one final act..

“Yeah? You mean that?” “Every word, baby. I want you to always be with me..” Vocalizing back and forth as he continually thrashed around inside of your pussy until he sensed the urge that you were close. Upholding one another’s heads in a passionate fury, you’d exchange breathy words amid your love making. Telling him you’re near your peak and him telling you to let go. “Come for me, baby. You can come all over—“ but alas, before he could grant you permission, it would seem that he’d reach his climax first; glaring with a wide eyed expression as his seed filled you to the brim..something he’d never done before! Cursing himself and apologizing as he shook violently, draining every drop of himself into you. Perhaps he took your words a bit too literal but it was far too late to turn back now and shortly after, you’d follow. Showering him with a splatter of sticky rain. Squeezing and dripping all down his shaft. You’d convulse and flail around the mattress until he was able to quell you with gentle kisses. “I’m right here, mama. Let it out, it’s okay..” but once you were back into consciousness, you still wouldn’t let go and you remained entangled like this minutes afterwards. Exchanging “I love you’s” and sweet nothings. Along with tears..shedding them not for what would be lost but the time you had together and the comfort in knowing that you’d reunite soon enough. This time as more than friends with benefits or even mere freshmen sweethearts. But as an entity, an item that could never be separated because your bond was forged on a stronger foundation than one made of pure lust. It was love that would drive you to be better versions of yourselves, to work hard and it was love..that would bring you right back to one another when the time was truly right!

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@citysweet @greenieweeniesworld @hoohoohope @c0pkiller @bey0nseh @violetxxvenom @dragonmaiden79 @fuck-your-chickenstrips-hoe @saiki-enthusiast

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i-have-a-mouth-so-i-must-scream · 7 months

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Cross Guild Angst

🦅🗡️🤡✨🚬🐊

Currently stuck in bed due to a bad cold (clogged up nose and skull splitting headache), and just going through my old playlists.

Listening to a male cover version of Charlotte Lawrence's "Joke's on You" and my mind immediately came up with a Cross Guild Polycule angst scenario where Croc and Mihawk did/said something that triggered the clown's insecurities real bad and deeply hurt Buggy. So bad that it left the clown feeling like their whole relationship is a lie and that it's all just a big joke at his expense 😢🤡.

Que Buggy's heartbreak and quiet resignation that nobody will ever want or truly love him for him. He bottles up all his emotions and turmoil, and just accepts that reality.

So, slowly and steadily, Buggy starts pulling away from the both of them emotionally while acting like nothing has changed, so that when the shoe comes down and his so called lovers come clean about the whole situation, how they only needed something to entertain themselves with, like toying with him and his emotions, the fallout wouldn't hurt him as much as they think it will.

Basically Buggy going all, "Haha! How silly of me! No one could ever possibly want me! I'm a cowardly failure and a hack with no redeeming qualities! It was real dumb of me to ever consider these two powerful and handsome men would even consider loving me! lmfao!... It's okay though!... I just should have seen it sooner... Silly me lol..." 🤡😅😂🤣😄😌🥲😢💔💔💔

Unbeknownst to the Star Clown, Crocodile and Hawk Eyes have slowly started to notice that something was up with their clown. Their interactions were getting colder, his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes anymore, he stopped bothering them at all but, when he does it's strictly for business, his expressive eyes have lost that warm sparkle that he had for them and worst of all, any private time they have with him seems almost... detached, in some way (no devil fruit pun intended).

When they ask (confront) him about it, the clown just laughs it off like it's some hilarious inside joke between the three of them. They brush it off as Buggy being dramatic and everything just carries on like nothing happened.

They don't realize until it literal months later that what they did/said caused him so much grief that his insecurities flared up so bad that he started believing that they never did love him in the first place. That they were that cruel to use him like that.

By then, Buggy had quietly moved all his stuff back into his private tent and had stopped sleeping with them altogether.

He was still Buggy the Star Clown. Loud, flamboyant and overly flashy Emperor of the Sea... but he wasn't their Buggy anymore.

All in all, I just wanna see those two goons unknowingly fumble the bag and have a total "Oh, shit!" moment and scramble to get their heartbroken clown back.

#one piece #buggy the star clown #mihawk x buggy #buggy headcanons #buggy the clown #buggy thoughts #crocodile x buggy x mihawk #bughawk #one piece buggy #op buggy #crocbug #crocodile x buggy #buggy angst #cross guild #cross guild polycule #oof! this hurts me more than my headache

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inexplicifics · 7 months

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Oooh!

💖

Aiden/Lambert

Please!

Aiden has never actually gotten to run around in the woods before. He’s a city brat; none of his foster parents were ever interested in taking their gaggles of wards out into the wilderness, and the Cats certainly didn’t do field trips.

But living with Lambert provides all sorts of new experiences, including getting to wander about in the forest preserve which runs along behind the back border of Vesemir’s sprawling farm. According to the Wolfe pack, it’s a fairly tame preserve - maybe a couple of bobcats at worst - but it’s certainly wild enough for Aiden.

Lambert is leading the way, of course, looking just as at home here as he does in the gym, or on his motorcycle, or in the garden behind the townhouse. He’s alert and wary but not worried, and that means Aiden can relax and concentrate on just absorbing the sights and scents and sounds of this new environment.

Finally they reach a little hill; it’s not a bad hike, maybe five minutes of effort, and then they’re up high enough that they can see a fair little ways out over the forest. There’s a single tall tree with broad branches at the top - Aiden thinks it might be an oak, but he’s still working on plant identification - and Lambert spreads the blanket he’s been carrying out in a flattish mossy patch between two knobbly roots and flops down, pillowing his head on his crossed arms and looking like he ought to be on a magazine cover, or possibly starring in one of Aiden’s better dreams.

“Used to spend whole days out here, sometimes,” he says, beckoning Aiden to join him. “Did half my homework here, actually. Quieter than the house.”

“With all of you at home, yes, I would imagine so,” Aiden says, considering his options and then lying down on top of Lambert, grinning when Lambert grunts softly but doesn’t object.

And, well, it is quiet out here; the usual noise of the city is entirely absent, replaced by birdsong and squirrel chatter and a distant rat-a-tat Aiden thinks might be a woodpecker. Quiet and weirdly private for being out of doors. And Lambert does look like something out of a particularly good dream.

Aiden kisses his lover.

Lambert makes a surprised little sound and then his hands come up to cradle Aiden’s head and draw him closer, and their legs tangle together, and he deepens the kiss ravenously.

Aiden moans and tries to get closer - not really possible, not with both of them clothed, but still, he wants - and Lambert rumbles a low, hungry sound in response and rolls them halfway over, pinning Aiden against one of the tree’s roots and slinging a leg over both of Aiden’s to keep him there. Aiden attempts to writhe, not very successfully, and grabs at Lambert’s shoulders to try to pull him even closer, and makes undignified whimpering noises as Lambert kisses him deep and devouring and wonderful there among the tree’s dappled shadows.

They’re a little late to dinner, and Aiden has a hell of a time getting all the little bark fragments out of his hair, and it’s absolutely worth every bit of teasing, because he can reach up and touch the new hickey low on his throat, just barely covered by his shirt-collar, and replay every glorious moment of Lambert’s hungry kisses and the bright sharp green scent of the forest and the birds singing their little hearts out like they were feeling even a tiny fraction of Aiden’s own brilliant joy.

(Or here on AO3)

#questions answered #ask meme #heart asks #snippet #out of the night au #aiden #lambert

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komotionlessqueenmm · 1 year

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freya learning she is a grandmother. (Baldur daughter)

I included before and after scenarios of Baldur and Freyas falling out, because I couldn't resist lol.

Headcanon/Preference # 16

Picture NOT mine.

| Before the falling out |

• So if this happens before she casts her spell to protect her son...

• She will make an even worse mistake.

• You're so little and frail, so sweet and beautiful. A true gem to the realms, and the fruit of Baldurs light.

• So in order to protect you, she impulsively casts the spell over you instead of her son.

• She was ecstatic to be a grandmother, and to care for you whenever you're father would allow her to.

• She thought she was doing a good thing by casting her protection spell over you.

• But when she comes to realize the repercussions of her actions... The side affects the spell had on you.

• She felt horrible, and tried her best to keep it from Baldur, fearing he would keep you from her.

• That didn't last long, he knew you so well already, and the moment he realized you no longer cared to eat anything, though the lack of nourishment never seemed to harm you.

• And you no longer reacted when he blew raspberries onto your pudgy little tummy, something that used to put you into a fit of giggles so strong you often spit up a bit.

• He immediately sought out healers to make sure you were not ill.

• And when he learned it was magic... Vanir magic... He immediately turned to his mother, accusing her of all sorts of horrible things.

• She tried to defend herself, and tried to make him understand that she was only trying to protect you.

• But her pleas fell on deaf ears.

• In Baldur's eyes, she had betrayed him in the worst possible way, she had cursed his child, his only child.

• He would never forgive her for this, and if he were strong enough, he'd have killed her for it.

• Baldur's light grew dark, but never against you, his little shining star.

• And he swore that no matter what it took, he'd find a way to reverse this, even if that meant traveling to unknown worlds.

• Even if he had to fight dragons, trolls, giants, or ogres with his bare hands, or even burn worlds to ash and ruin, he'd find a way.

• You were still a babe when she was cast out, and you don't actually remember her, but you do remember the lullaby she used to hum to you.

| After the falling out |

• She never knew about you until Atreus mentioned the young god/goddess traveling with Baldur.

• She tried to subtly ask Atreus about you, and with how close he describes your relationship, she initially assumes you're a lover.

• Desperate to know more she scours Midgard for more answers, and is astonished to find you are in fact Baldur's child.

• She's hurt that she was never told about your birth, or that she was there to watch you grow.

• She's also honestly surprised Odin didn't rub the news in her face, considering everything else he's done to her.

• Now that she knows about you, she's desperate to meet you. Even so desperate to go to Mímir for advice on how she could cross paths with you.

• And eventually that time comes, and you meet her while scouting for your father. Which is probably ideal considering he'd freak out if he knew.

• You're admittedly confused when this strange woman begins talking to you as if she'd known you your whole life.

• "Look at how beautiful you've become." She beamed. "You have your father's eyes." Her own eyes glossed over.

• "Do I know you?" You questioned, your hand placed on the hilt of your sword, unsure if you could trust this woman.

• She notices your unease, and hold her hands up a little to show you she means no harm. "I'm afraid not, but I know you."

• "Who are you?" You demanded with a growing fire in your eyes, it's then she realizes you've inherited not only your father's rage and distrust, but his father's as well.

• "I am your grandmother Freya." She explains with a sad smile, wishing she could embrace you in a warm and reassuring hug.

• You scowl in return. "You're the reason my father suffers." You hiss with venom, and she wondered for a moment if you'd kill her for it.

• She bowed her head in shame, you'd probably never understand her side of the story, as your father had clearly ingrained his side into your mind.

• "You better hope father doesn't find you. He intends on killing you if he ever does." You warned before stalking away, vanishing before she could stop you.

• She felt even worse now, than she had when she first found out about you.

• Because now she had met you, and she knew you cared not for her, you didn't sympathize with her.

• You merely pitted her, and that hurt so much more, than if you had outright hatted her.

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yiminsuu · 2 years

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Bittersweet Dreams

Pairing: Dream/Morpheus x F!Reader

Warnings: Angst with fluff, strained mother/daughter relationship, Morpheus and reader are bad at love, mutual pining, mentions of Calliope, reader is a medium, Death is the best.

Author’s Note: Gosh I absolutely loved The Sandman, I wish for a 2° season soon!

The sky cries shiny drops of water, illuminated by the full moon that seems to ignore all possible ways of hiding behind clouds. Laying on my bed with a blank expression, I woke up from another nightmare, a dream in which I was too cruelly suffering my worst feelings. No one came to help, no one came.

Did Dream forget about me...?

My heart ached, and I felt so overwhelmed by that thought alone that I couldn't help but fall to the ground when I tried to stand. So I stayed where I am and waited, and waited, and waited...

My nails felt cold, goosebumps appeared on my skin rapidly as someone translucent, someone that looked young, did their best to help me stand up. I don't know them, and they didn't let me see them either as if afraid of my reaction. However, they always appeared whenever I thought of him with sadness, and whispered so softly to not lose hope. I received an unwelcome letter not many days ago, with no address or sender, but it struck me so profoundly I couldn't breathe.

Calliope is beautiful, a daughter of Zeus, the love of Morpheus and the mother of the child they both lost. Grief and mourning reuniting ex-lovers are common and understandable, and I wish for nothing more than Dream to be okay, but I know... I know that I have nothing to do with it.

I felt my heart break, and a small whisper caught my attention, a whisper so mild and sweet it sounded familiar. Deciding to push myself through that person, I walked to the kitchen in complete darkness. They were gone, perhaps disappointed at my actions. Hell, I'm disappointed too, for thinking about him, for remembering every second, minute, hour and day I spent with him, helping him be the King of Dreams again...

And... That time we almost...

The sound of the microwave stirred me from daydreaming. I took the coffee and for an unknown amount of time I stood in place, glaring slightly, I watched the light of the kitchen blinking until it broke, and shards fell to the ground.

The stars never shined as bright as this type of night, then again, it's always like this whenever I'm visited by a form that should've crossed the other side a long time ago.

Death promised.

She promised she would take my mother away to the other side, but I can't blame anyone, mom was always the one that never let me live... Not without regrets, guilt, and hatred. Chuckling half-heartedly, I took a sip of my hot coffee and burned my tongue, hardly caring that tears fell down my cheeks. I am against drinking my problems away, and I am not good with human relationships, not since my last job. A job in which I was fired for not having sex with my boss. "Took you long enough, she's been annoying me for the last 4 hours." I muttered with a hint of exasperation. If I can see the dead then of course I would feel Death strolling around.

She didn't say anything for some time. "Your mother is... Stubborn. I didn't think she would escape just to see how you are."

"She wants to see me as depressed as ever, maybe this is the last time I see her and I feel incredibly uncomfortable. She stinks of poison." Death didn't take long in taking that woman away, and she came back 20 minutes later to sit in front of me, the cup of coffee long forgotten. Once more, we were alone, and I know what she wanted: To speak about me... And Dream.

"Death--"

"Let me speak." I shut my mouth closed. There was a small smile on her lips, and the kindness in her eyes is evident, but her tone is... Anything but friendly. "You cannot keep doing this, (Y/N). Guns and knives aren't the only cause of death in the world, and you, you that is so willingly sensitive to the other side... It's possible to die of a broken soul. A broken heart." I know how right she is, damn if I know how much this is mentally consuming me, but Dream is... Out of my reach. His everything will always belong to her. "I know... But I can't."

"You can't? Or you don't want to?"

"I can't, AND I don't want to. It won't matter in the end, I'm not immortal, I'm not like you. I am a human with a fucked up bloodline." Death stared at me with no emotion. "I will die." I continued. "Don't you think I should suck these emotions in? And bury them as far as Hell is so I won't see one more tear in his eyes? Half of his siblings want him gone, his son is dead, he was imprisoned for 100 years...! He's had enough! My problems are nothing compared to his, besides... I already know what his answer is... All he does is give me nightmares..." The silence is unbearable, I had looked away long before finishing my sentence, Death is still staring at me with almost no emotion except for her mouth slightly open, and letting out an exhaled to finish the conversation.

The lights flickered wildly before coming to a stop as the chocolaty figure was about to leave. "Do you remember what your father said? About love...?" I didn't respond, and she was gone.

Friction makes affection.

But does my dear king feel the same affection...?

I couldn't sleep the next night either, I spent all day helping a family come to terms with the death of their sons and it left me bothered. I knew something bad would happen, but I didn't know it would be me that would be left so empty. The smile those children gave me when they departed... I...

"(Y/N)."

I jumped on my chair before turning at the source of the voice, the last person I wanted to see. "Dream..."

He remained quiet as he watched my expression intently, and I quickly realized I was crying. Dream took a few steps toward me but I backed away, making him stop abruptly. "A job... It took a turn on me. D-Do you need something?"

"The Corinthian." I inhaled heavily at that name. "Death found a body left by it, there was no soul to be collected. I need you to look for it." He finished and I sighed, I knew it was going to be a tough job to look for a scared soul. That monster has been nothing but a nuisance ever since he got out of Dream's realm. "Alright, but please, let me become a person before going out there--" A grip on my arm made me stop in my tracks, and I glanced up at the king to find him staring into my eyes. My heartbeat increased and my brows furrowed with shyness. "The nightmares." He paused for a small moment. "They weren't on purpose."

"They weren't on purpose? I've been plagued with those for over 3 weeks and that's all you have to say!?" I needed to shout out my pain at his irresponsibility, but in the end, I had to calm down. "I haven't slept at all..."

"I know." He said, almost too gently. None of us said anything afterward, I don't know how much time has passed, and more tears danced down my cheeks. Dream's touch held a flame that burned me as I got dangerously closer to him, my head rested on his cheek as he placed his hand on my hair. I embraced his torso softly and relaxed, hearing his low hum, a sound of approval at me returning the affection.

Affection...

"What have I done to deserve such nightmares...?" I muttered. The king held me in place, I didn't dare push away, and I didn't care if I was being selfish. I only want him to stay a little longer. "You are connected to me... And I made sure it would remain like that." I looked at him slowly and felt his hands on both my cheeks, my eyes widened. "What I saw... Were your personal nightmares...?" Dream didn't say anything, and only stared at me before uniting our foreheads.

He's... Scared of losing me, and I him.

"Dream... I've always been yours. But I beg you, don't give me more nightmares." My hands came up to his cheeks, and he closed his eyes as he felt me, his thumb cleaning away my tears. My beloved Morpheus. "My queen, I won't let anyone hurt you. You are mine, for as long as I live."

#The Sandman #king of dreams #morpheus #morpheus x reader #dream #dream x reader #the endless #oneshot #the sandman x reader #the endless x reader

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v3nusxsky · 1 year

Note

hi! i really liked “precious angel”, can you right maybe some other one-shot with reader being a teen mom? i love this trope! i don’t have any specific requests, you have all your artistic liberties, thank you and have a nice day/night 🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🫶🫶

Who is this cutie?

*Authors note~ I'm a sucker for this trope, I adore it so much. I hope you all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it*

Trigger warnings~ fear of losing a child teen mother

Prompt~ see ask^^^^^^

Being a young mother was a challenge of its own right. But being a young mother while attending the school for good and evil was something else. You had a newborn when you joined the school, Clarissa was desperately hoping for you to be an Ever, while Lady Lesso really didn't want a child in her school. Fate decided you to be a Ever which seemed to make everyone happy, except you. You didn't really fit in with the Ever students. You often kept yourself to yourself, just you and daughter, how it always had been right from day one. Dovey would visit your quarters every so often to ensure you and Delilah were okay and giving you that adult communication.

Over the first year, you began to long for the Dean of Evil, whenever she entered a room you were instantly drawn to her. When you were sad or struggling it was her you wanted to wrap you up in her arms and hold you. When you were happy it was her you wanted to run and tell. Everything was Leonora, but you knew how forbidden Evers and Never relationships were. And Lesso didn't know of your daughter. So she would forever remain a fantasy, a star crossed lover, you could only ever admire her from afar.

By the time your daughter was eighteen months old you'd settled into a routine, school in which she would hang out in Doveys office until you were done, then you'd pick up your baby and begin your evening routine. Her first word was momma. And her second doovee which was completely adorable when paired with her adorable toothy grin. Delilah was a spit image of you which you were so grateful for. Hard to believe she would be two years old soon, where was that tiny 5 pound 4 ounce baby you had? It honestly felt like yesterday you gave birth. But time is cruel, no matter how much you wish for it to slow down it can't.

You couldn't help but panic when you saw Clarissa entering the classroom with fear in her eyes. A few hushed words by the dean and your professor had you gathering your items and leaving with Clarissa. "Ris? What's wrong? Where's lilah?" You rushed out in a panic only for it to be fuelled by Clarissa silently crying. "I'm sorry! I swear I turned my back for one second and she was gone. I looked all around the office for her. I'm so so sorry!"

Delilah was missing. You could've swore you felt your heart truly shatter at the words. Your baby. She could be anywhere and the thought of that sending you into a panic. What if some of the Never students found her? What if she got hurt crossing the bridge? She must be so scared. Oh god! What if you couldn't find her? You can't lose her. She's your everything, your one reason to better yourself. Your true love. "Dovey, what do we do?" You whimpered tears flowing like a raging river now at your panicked thoughts. "We can't panic dear, we will find her, she can't have gone too far? Little butterfly wanted to spread her wings a little. It's okay" she murmured rubbing your back in a soothing manner.

You both decided to split up, Dovey would take the school for good and you'd try and see if you could spot her on the way to the School for Evil. You'd be lying if you said you weren't panicking, the worst scenario's possible filling your mind as you entered the school for Evil, only to be interrupted from your search by Lesso's wolves. "You shouldn't be here" they growled and "leave!" Which you immediately protested. "I'm just searching for" you tried to explain only to be cut off as they grabbed you and dragged you away, kicking and screaming in protest.

By the time you'd been dragged to her office you felt defeated, a failed mother, a failing ever. God why couldn't you be what she needed? Poor child got stuck with you as mother. The negative thoughts spiralled into a frenzy. So much so you missed the giggles of your daughter, and Lesso hushing her, "little terror you have to be quiet, we have guests, terror tugging my hair like that. You're so lucky your cute and I love your mother."

The wolves threw you to the ground, you had nothing else to lose so you stayed there, head down. Only when you head the Deans footsteps and a happy gasp of "mommma!" Did you look up, tears streaming. "Oh my god! Delilah baby girl" you whimpered the emotional tidal waves of relief washing over you. Not caring for punishment you were up and heading over to your daughter, examining every inch of her to be reassured she was safe. "Ma doggie!" She giggled happily causing Leonora to call in a wolf, command they kneel and let Delilah tug on the fur of his ears happily. "Doggie doggie doggie" she babbled happily.

"She's beautiful" Leonora murmured to you, "a little terror but beautiful like her momma." You couldn't help but throw yourself into her body, immediately her arms wrapped around you as she watched your baby happily. "Thank you" you murmured into her body,"really thank you for making sure she's safe." You pulled away from her slightly embarrassed at how emotional you were and explained her she was with her aunty Dovey and must have slipped away. Apologising repeatedly for distracting her.

"Sweetheart, she's absolutely wonderful, not trouble at all. I found her wandering on the bridge and wanted to keep her safe for you. I'll be honest, your the oldest Ever we have yes, but I don't think of you as a student. No, I see you as this strong capable loving mother. Beautiful inside and out. And yes I've had to admire you from afar, loving you and little terror down there until it's acceptable for me to make a move. Apparently Delilah -pretty name- decided now was time" she explained, watching you carefully wondering if you felt the same.

"I you what?" You mumbled before being saved by your daughter tugging on your leg, "uppie uppie uppie!" Smiling you picked up your baby and sat her on your right hip. "You Miss Lilah shouldn't run away from Dovey." You murmured to her sternly. "Ma!" She pointed doing grabby hands to Leonora. "Listen to momma tiny terror, ma will come see you soon okay?" Lesso murmured kissing her little chubby cheek," you be a good girl for momma okay?"

You watched your daughter with rapt attention as she began to cry at the thought of leaving Lesso, "Shhh baby, it's okay. We will see lesso soon okay? Say bye byes baby." Your daughter cried and tried to mumble by byes to Lesso before lesso kissed your cheek and murmured "I'll see you soon love." Yes Delilah running off give you and your Dean a heart attack but it brought you to Leonora. And that's something you'd forever be happy for.

Word count~ 1262

#anon answered #fanfic #lady lesso #sfgae #leonora lesso #lady lesso x reader #lesso x reader #lady leonora lesso #lady lesso x you #leonora lesso x reader #dean of evil #anon requested

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 1 year

Text

Love Song for a Vampire Pt.24

Pairing(s): Edward Cullen x Wolf!Reader, Jacob Black x OC

Warnings: slight OOC? I tried to keep Edward as close to character as possible, kinda kept with book Edward vibes

Words: 2432

Summary: Returning for your trip to Port Angeles, your pack entertains Evita at the weekly bonfire.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39

Though it caused Alice a great deal of pain, she centered her focus and thrust her mind into (y/n)’s future. For now there was nothing she could do but wait for Edward to either intervene or let the wolf girl go through with her plan to disrupt fate.

She slipped into the dark recesses of time itself and simply let her selfconscious freefall. Whipped this way and that as she attempted to stay course, Alice felt like her mind was being torn to shreds. The repercussions of her actions would result in her being indisposed for several days, but she just had to know if (y/n) would succeed.

The gentle touch of a pleading Jasper brings her back to her physical form. Her head spun as she forced her eyes open. “Why did you do that?”

“You looked like you were in pain. What did you see?” Jasper didn’t mind the snap that was in her tone.

“Nothing. I was trying to see into (y/n)’s future. But it’s not something I can simply conjure up. . .” Alice continued to tell Jasper about (y/n)’s visit and Alice’s phone call to Edward. She had no right to intercede in Edward’s life, but there was something inside of Alice that told her the two star crossed lovers were meant to be.

The pain was like a nail into her skull as she doubled over in Jasper’s arms. In his embrace, Alice was safe.

Her safety was never Alice’s concern though. “I just want to help them.”

“I know.” Jasper pressed her even more against his chest. “But you have to let events play out as they will. If it’s meant to be, well, they’ll figure it out eventually. And you have to accept that it may not happen right away.”

Her tear ducts, though non functioning, burned at the rim with tears that could not produce anything. Edward was not her brother by blood, but through pain and genuine familial love that neither had squire experienced before.

And since meeting and getting to know (y/n), Alice knew with all her heart that she was the one who could truly make her brother happy. They were at least on the same spectrum; from the same world that consisted of supernatural beings such as vampires and werewolves.

Bella was a sweet girl and at her worst she was a little too naive for someone as old as Edward. Transforming into a wolf had rapidly matured (y/n) like it did with her packmates. Even her manner of perceiving situations was from a mature aspect. (Y/n) was fierce too when she was forced into it. Edward had retold of the two of them fighting back-to-back. Protecting one another in perfect unison.

She wanted him to have a mate that could protect him. Like how Alice had Jasper. Someone who could brave this tough underworld of their’s and live through it all.

Finally parking in the popular downtown area of Port Angeles, you and Evita eagerly spring from Sam’s car

Managing to keep your interaction with Alice to yourself, you’d put on a cheerful facade in the car.

Evita looks at her phone screen to affirm the store address, she leads everyone onto the Main Street that was buzzing with people enjoying their summer. Leisurely you stroll by and peek into shop windows. It wasn’t often you got out of La Push. Cities like Port Angeles remind you that the world was so much bigger than the protective forest of your home.

Not like you had much money to fuel any visits to the city. Your parents were right with one thing, being a wolf warrior did not pay. Jacob did have a part-time job as did Quil and some of the older members of your pack.

When your trio steps foot into the metaphysical store Evita guided you to, you’re hit with the strong accent of incense that made your nose curl until you grew accustomed. Sam too wipes at his nose to try and lessen the intensity.

Peacefully quiet except for the soft whispers of other customers, Evita is already on the hunt for the remainder of the ingredients she needs. Leaving you and Sam to linger in the shape that possessed so many dazzling items. Crystals of all shapes and sizes were sold as were devotional items of gods and goddesses from nearly every religion. A nook in the back was where the walls were lined with books. Mythology books, herbs, and other literature based on magic and the supernatural.

“I never knew stores like this existed.” Sam mutters to you as he squeezes himself through the narrow aisles. His hulking frame made him a bull in a china shop. There were too many things for him to potentially break.

“Besides the smell, I like it.” You pick up a bead bracelet to admire. “Some of this stuff was used by our ancestors.”

Sam chuckles. “Some of the elders still use stuff like this.”

Tonight Evita would be attending your weekly bonfire session with the elders and rest of the pack. Part of you hopes Jacob won’t show up. “What do you think is going to happen with Jacob?”

“He just needs time.”

“What if Evita. . .”

Neither of you finish that sentence, not wanting to think about what would happen to Jacob if Evita rejected him. You’d experienced that pain.

If her bond breaking spell worked, then you wouldn’t even have to worry about it. Jacob could use it too.

Warily, Sam says in a low voice “I haven’t had the time to ask you, what with Jacob imprinting on Evita and the Denali vampire visit. . .” He lingers a bit trying to best formulate his question. “Do you still intend on breaking your imprint?”

You figure he would’ve figured it out sooner rather than later. Absentmindedly, you run your fingers along the spine of a book with the title “The Alchemists’ Meditative Guide”. “Yes.”

He was disappointed, you could tell by the manner he closed his eyes and breathed through his nose in a sharp hiss.

“You don’t approve anymore?” Great, the second person to disagree with your choice.

His near black eyes flick open and he looks down the aisle where Evita was slowly coming back up with her items she intends to purchase. “I’m not going to tell you how to live your life. And I’m not going to lie and say I didn’t wish I’d found a way to break my own imprinting in the beginning. If such a thing had existed for me back then, I might have used it as well and possibly still be with Leah.”

They had been so in love, Sam and Leah, before shit hit the fan. Much like Bella and Edward.

“Now though, I don’t think I would go back and change things. I’ve finally found peace with my life and what has happened.”

Things between himself and the one other female wolf were still fractured. Leah knowing that Sam didn’t imprint on Emily on purpose would not make her forgive either of them anytime soon and they understood that.

“Keep the spell to yourself. Don’t tell Jacob.”

You open your mouth to protest, whipping your head to your alpha who stood there motionless. His eyes trained on you.

“Sorry for taking so long.” Evita apologizes as she readjusts the plastic bag handles in her grip. “I couldn’t find all I needed so I had to think of some substitutes.”

Forcing your face to brighten, your trio makes the long car ride back to the seemingly remote area of La Push.

With each mile, your resolution was crumbling if even Sam thought you shouldn’t go through with it. You want to discuss more about it with Sam but the car ride back was a relatively silent one. While your circumstances were similar to that of Sam’s, in the end it was still leagues different due to the matter of what Edward was. How could anything between the two of you work long term?

Imprinting worked so that your future offspring would be strong. Could Edward even get you pregnant?

That thought made you blush and any other thoughts were squashed from embarrassment.

Once Sam’s wheels crunched the gravel of his driveway, you went about prepping for the bonfire that would be starting in a few hours. As Sam was the pack alpha, even the elders agreed to hold it in his driveway. Collapsible chairs would be brought and stuck into the pebbles as The older members of the community built the fire.

Evita helps out by setting up the long table that held plates filled with food and beverages. Other members who showed up early also happily lent a helping hand. Even as a small girl, you loved these nights where everyone got together and shared in laughs and stories.

The young witch’s own community was not as big as your own. In fact it resided to only her close family. Everyone at her school and in her city were relatively normal people. Not that her country lacked brujeria and magic in all of its shapes.

While bringing out blankets for the elders that were expected to show up, you happen to catch Sue’s car pulling in. The passenger seat was occupied by Billy, his favorite hat being situated on his head as he was helped out by Paul and Jared.

No sign of Jacob though.

You allow relief to soften your body. At least there wouldn’t be any scene tonight.

The members of the pack were the last ones to get there as they were finishing up securing the perimeter. They were allowed at least one night to let loose and not have to worry about vampiric strangers stepping foot on their land. There was the reassurance that the Cullens would catch them before doing any real damage if they even got to that point.

You and Evita say hello to Quil and Embry. Normalcy almost seemed feasible in the moment of revelry and watching the warm faces of those you had grown up with smile.

Finally, as everyone has filled their plate and taken their seats, the elders greet those in attendance. The summer night air is tepid, neither cold nor hot and making that night even better by the perfect weather.

At one point, Evita checks the time on her phone and gently nudges you. It was time for your bond breaking.

You were losing faith in your resolve but quietly followed her back into the forest and provided you with a long strand of hair plucked from your scalp. As she walks, Evita winds the hair around a long, black, taper candle. The screen on your phone did not show any messages that had gone unnoticed. None from Edward.

“Let me try calling him.” You put your phone up to your ear and walk a few steps away, allowing Evita to lay out the rest of her tools on the ground.

The other end picks up immediately. “(Y/N)!”

“Hey, Edward. Did Alice-“

“Don’t do it. Please don’t do it.” Was he really out of breath? And from what.

“Edward, this would solve everything! No Volturi. No more fighting. And you and Bella can get back together.” You nearly snap at him. Why was no one else thinking about the positive things that would result because of this decision?

An intruding sound of leaves crunching under foot makes you snap your gaze upward to Edward standing right there. He dropped his phone into his pocket, hesitant to advance towards you. He glances over to Evita who had stopped working and cautiously watched their interaction.

You put your phone away too and nervously rub your hands together.

“I don’t want that.”

You stumble over words that couldn’t be forced out. Taken by utter surprise by his appearance, you summon your courage to face him. “This is a good thing. Didn’t you hear me? No more fighting and you and Bella can go on with your life together.”

Shaking his head, Edward says “I can’t go back to Bella with an honest heart. (Y/n), I want to get to know you. You are the most interesting and warm person I have met in a very long time. I want the chance to experience what it’s like to. . . Be loved by you.”

An uncontrollable nervous laugh escapes you. Anywhere but Edward’s face was your target. This wasn’t real. Couldn’t possibly be real. Edward would never say anything like that. He was devoted to Bella even if she was the one to break things off.

This was simply too much for your brain to handle all at once.

Never did you imagine Edward saying such sweet words to your.

“I heard your heart when you told me you really didn’t want to be in love with me. It screamed the opposite. The love song that was in your heart made me quake in my shoes. Your heart beat, your entire being, has since enraptured me.” Edward spits out the thoughts he had been so afraid to say out loud. Judgement from his family and hurting Bella kept them dormant inside.

He. . . He wanted to try and be with you.

In slow motion, he bravely walks closer to you as you struggle to even breathe. None of this felt real, but his scent was too overwhelming to not be real.

Your imprintee was looking at you with molten warmth nearing to being in awe.

Edward closes his eyes in bliss at the rapid thumping of the large muscle in your chest. “I can’t hear your thoughts, but the beating of your heart is close to it.”

Nothing else matters. Not when Edward cups your cheek and a spike of excitement jolts through every layer of your skin. That was something your brain could not easily conjure.

Near bursting from joy, you hold onto this moment before succumbing to his touch in such a pathetic way but you didn’t care. After giving up hope of Edward ever reciprocating any sort of feeling, he was the one to come and stop you. Edward wanted this bond to stay and to figure things out together.

“If you’ll have me, I would like to try.” He whispers out of Evita’s hearing but enough for you to hear the soft pleading tone in it.

“Yes. Okay.”

If things didn’t work out, well, Evita’s spell was there in the back burner.

For now you would through caution to the wind and let whatever may happen, happen.

——————————

TAGLIST: @saltedcoffeescotch , @dangerouslittlefairy , @burn-crash-rqmance , @casedoina , @avadakadabra93 , @daryldixonstorm , @blue-aconite , @xanniestired666 , @esposadomd, @godinho11 , @arin-swear-rose , @alexizodd , @melaninsugarbaby , @lyeatoalinatoheaven , @ronwownsme , @itsmytimetoodream , @afro-hispwriter , @mutandis-extremis993 , @hxgemxscles , @nightly-polaris , @corrodedcoffins-slut , @ellesalazar , @itgetzweird08 , @crybabyatthediscooffandoms , @sassyandclassyx , @scarlet2007 , @theroyalbrownbarbie , @jennyamanda8 , @stevenandmarcslove , @biancaindaeyo , @loversjoy , @turningtoclown , @vixorell , @xxthackerybinxxx , @daredevilonmyheels , @dumbbitch-juice , @southern-bell-give-hell

#edward cullen #edward cullen fanfic #edward cullen fanfiction #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen x you #reader #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #twilight #twilight saga #twilight fanfiction #twilight fandom

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i-did-not-mean-to · 3 months

Text

FireBird - March

Ah, my dear friend @cilil was so good to send in a couple of requests!

It's my joy and honour to present the first fic to you tonight :D

Prompts: “The worst part is you didn’t even notice” – “I don’t need a gentleman right now.” – Responsibility – Knight in shining armour

Pairing: Eönwë x Gothmog

Words: 1030

Warnings: Injury, blood, sadness, bad elves, good Eönwë

“Let him be, I’ll take care of it,” Eönwë called, feeling the back of his neck heat up as the despicable half-truth crossed his dry lips.

Nobody had expected the co-habitation of once inveterate foes to be easy, and Eönwë even secretly believed that Manwë could and should have been more discouraging when it came to the outright hostile behaviour towards the reformed former denizens of Angband.

Unfortunately, the reality turned out to be much worse than anything the kind-hearted herald had ever imagined.

“Milord,” the group of reembodied Elves muttered and withdrew reluctantly.

It was forbidden for the Balrogs to travel in groups, and much too often resentful, unforgiving members of the High Houses liked to corner Melkor’s fallen servants and harass them cruelly.

“Away with you,” Eönwë called sternly. “Leave it to me!”

Of course, Eönwë did not doubt that any of the fearsome Maiar could have defended themselves against a few puny incarnates, but he took his role as a keeper of the peace very seriously.

Moreover, he was eager for this one Balrog in particular to understand that he was on his side, as much as that was even possible anymore.

“Bird,” Gothmog purred, leaning heavily against a boulder, and trying to angle his body so as to dissimulate the minor wounds the group of pesky troublemakers had inflicted upon him. “Have you come to chide me? I swear upon my honour that I’ve not laid a single claw upon your precious Children.”

At that ludicrous declaration, Eönwë let his frown deepen disapprovingly.

He knew Manwë’s stipulations only too well—after all, he had been the one tasked to convey them to the unfortunate souls they concerned—but, in his heart of hearts, he nevertheless much regretted to see his friend and lover hurt because of a set of cold, unfeeling rules.

“You’re allowed to defend yourself against those who’d seek to harm you,” he murmured insistently.

“And risk your displeasure, beloved? From your sweet lips came the ordinance to renounce my evil ways, and I shall do so, no matter the cost to my health and heart,” Gothmog replied calmly.

Unfortunately, his efforts at clumsy gallantry were considerably hampered by the fact that he was by now slowly slumping under the strain of desperately pretending that he was perfectly hale and happy.

“You look particularly appetising today, bird,” Gothmog tried to assuage the worry in the bright, sky-blue eyes of his most cherished enemy. “I mean, you look handsome.”

Eru’s long-haired pet meat bags might never have understood it, but there were truths and affinities sung into creation that far transcended their very limited interpretation of beauty and affection.

Thus, it had come to pass that these fierce warriors—having fought ferociously on opposite fronts in a seemingly eternal war—had ultimately found well-deserved peace in one another.

As all star-crossed lovers were wont to asseverate, they naturally were willing to selflessly die for the other.

Living, they’d soon found out, was a much more arduous and treacherous challenge.

Ever diligent to the point of undeniable stubbornness, Gothmog had decided that he’d use his new-found freedom to give Eönwë what he clearly yearned for so desperately: a proper romantic courtship.

“Could I interest you in a leisurely stroll by the river then?” the Balrog asked in a forcibly level voice.

“Don’t be silly,” Eönwë exclaimed. “You are injured! This is hardly the moment for pleasant walks by the water. Let me see!”

Indeed, the herald’s heart ached as he glimpsed the superficial but undoubtedly painful gashes marring Gothmog’s precious, gleaming hide.

“I shall have words with them,” he grumbled, gnashing his flawless teeth.

“Do not trouble yourself on my account, my sweetling,” Gothmog assured him quickly as he tried to squirm away from the inquisitive fingers ghosting across his skin and threatening to undo his carefully constructed façade of good manners and gentle words.

“They are my responsibility,” Eönwë opined. “And so are you, you foolhardy creature! If you will not defend yourself, will you at least promise to call for me if this ever happens again?”

His stern gaze softened, and his pursed lips relaxed into a charming smile. “I quite like being your knight in shining armour.”

As if embarrassed by his own confession, he drew his wings up defensively.

“Keep talking,” Gothmog drawled. The cocky, teasing grin he flashed Eönwë now was genuine, despite his tangible discomfort.

“You’re not the only one who’s trying to impress by putting his best foot forward, and the worst thing is, you didn’t even notice…” Eönwë complained softly, rubbing a blood-stained hand along his chiselled jaw shamefacedly.

“What do you believe has escaped my notice? How competently you’ve handled this situation, getting rid of these unwelcome intruders with aplomb and grace? Or your indescribable beauty as you arrived on the scene like an avenging entity made of summer bliss and autumn storms? You underestimate me, my winged wonder, for I am humbled by every awe-inspiring detail of your appearance and demeanour!”

“Humbug,” Eönwë mumbled, flattered despite suspecting that he was being lovingly mocked. “I don’t need a gentleman right now, Gothmog. Tell me how bad it is…Should I bring you to Estë?”

“Pah! Estë!” Gothmog guffawed. “What for? To be fussed over endlessly? ‘tis but a scratch, I tell you.”

Lifting his arm slowly, he cupped Eönwë’s cheek tenderly. “Please, believe me when I say that neither your entirely unnecessary preoccupation nor your gentle care has gone unnoticed.”

Beneath the soothing, healing caress of the one he loved against all odds and despite the bitter feud engraved into their very souls, Gothmog finally relaxed.

“When you arrived, I couldn’t help thinking how marvellous it is to see you appear like a ray of sun cutting through the blinding, burning mist of battle and to know that you’ve not come to smite me.”

“I am on your side, you know?” Eönwë whispered, curling up against the living heat of the terrible fire demon.

“There are no sides anymore,” Gothmog reminded him, quoting the announcement that had allowed them to meet and reconnect once more.

“Nevertheless…”

“Yes,” Gothmog yawned, slinging his arm around his beloved hero. “Thank you!”

-> Masterlist

Lots of love from me! (I shall be busy this weekend, but I theoretically am still willing to write something for this <3)

@fellowshipofthefics You didn't think that I'd skip this one, did you? LOL

#og post #Fanfiction #writing #IDNMT writes #jrrt #Tolkien fanfiction #Luck of the Draw #March event #FOTFICS March 2024 #FireBird #Eönwë x Gothmog #Eönwë #Gothmog #text prompt #Responsibility #Knight in shining armour #for Cílil

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shadowslocked · 7 months

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Okay but if one team dies and gets redristubed onto another team what would be the best or worst or funniests ways it could go

Because it would be so funny if Bad ended up on red team permanently after ALL this drama between them, I especially want to see him and Slime more together

Pac and Fit being together would possibly force them to deal with what happened, or could end really bad if Pac ends up on a team with Cellbit. On the other hand Fit could end up with Cellbit and be confronted with his just roommate being hunted for sport

Bagi and Tina finally together or they may still be trapped in their star-crossed lovers deal…or Bagi and Cell having to deal with their sibling drama

#qsmp

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vagabond-umlaut · 8 months

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STARS.

GLOWING BALLS OF BURNING GASES, LIGHTING THE DARK OF THE NIGHT SKY. PEOPLE OF TALENT, FAMOUS AND MUCH LOVED BY THE GENERAL POPULACE. FORCES OF FATE, INFLUENCING & DETERMINING THE LIVES OF US, MORTALS.

ONE SMALL WORD YET SO COMPLICATED IN ITS MEANINGS, IS IT NOT?

YES, INDEED IT IS— THOUGH, CERTAINLY NOT AS MUCH AS THE STORY OF ONE KING OF CURSES & HIS WIFE— WHAT DO YOU THINK, MR. SUKUNA & MS. KORE?

*The camera focuses on one of the most well-known and beloved couples from the renowned TV show Jujutsu Kaisen. Despite being six years younger in age and over ten years younger in acting experience, the woman seems every gram the seasoned acting professional the man beside her is; although, a lot more cheerful and friendly than the latter. [The almost-absence of space between them doesn't go past the eye of anyone— nevertheless, the interviewer chooses not to comment on the same. For now, that is.] Kore greets the camera with a happy smile and a wave whilst Sukuna acknowledges the same with a minor twitch of his lips— the two of them then returning their focus to the interviewer.*

KORE: *chuckles* AH, NO, I DON'T THINK THEIR STORY IS AS COMPLICATED AS IT IS BEING MADE TO BE. IT IS A RATHER SIMPLE, SWEET AND SUCCINCT TALE OF LOVE, SET IN ANOTHER ERA. SUKUNA: *nodding* I AGREE. KORE'S & MY CHARACTERS SURE DO HAVE QUITE OPPOSING PERSONALITIES IN THE SHOW— ONE, WORSE THAN A DEMON AND THE OTHER, BETTER THAN AN ANGEL– BUT THAT DOESN'T REALLY MAKE THE STORY COMPLEX OR DIFFICULT. THEY FALL IN LOVE LIKE NORMAL PEOPLE DO AND WISH TO STAY TOGETHER FOREVER LIKE NORMAL PEOPLE DO– PERHAPS IN AN EVEN BETTER WAY BECAUSE OF THEIR OPPOSITE NATURES ATTRACTING EACH OTHER.

WOW, THAT MUST HAVE BEEN THE FIRST TIME MR. SUKUNA'S SPOKEN FOR SO LONG IN AN INTERVIEW, RIGHT? YOUR FANS, ME INCLUDED, ARE SHOCKED TO SAY THE LEAST. WOW...

KORE: *giggling at Sukuna, the latter looking away and coughing* SUKUNA TENDS TO BE VOCAL ABOUT THE THINGS HE IS PASSIONATE ABOUT— THIS CONCEPT OF OPPOSITES ATTRACTING IS JUST ONE SUCH THING.

OHH. I SEE. AND DID THAT SAME THEORY OF OPPOSITES ATTRACTING PLAY A ROLE IN DECIDING YOUR OUTFITS TONIGHT?

KORE: *stays silent for a while before answering* YOU CAN SAY THAT... BUT TO BE HONEST, IT'S MUCH DEEPER THAN THAT. *shares a small, almost secretive smile with Sukuna*

OOH! NOW, I'M INTRIGUED— EXACTLY HOW DEEP DID THOSE REASONS BEHIND TONIGHT'S OUTFITS RUN, MS. KORE?

KORE: *huffs a chuckle* NOT VERY DEEP, I PROMISE!— BUT I ASSUME YOU KNOW TONIGHT'S THEME IS STAR-CROSSED LOVERS, DON'T YOU? AS DECIDED BY THE STUNNING HOST OF THE GALA, AND MY DARLING FRIEND, MARA [@margumis]?

YES, OF COURSE!!

KORE: *smiles widely* TONIGHT'S OUTFITS WERE INFLUENCED BOTH BY THAT AND BY WHAT YOU MENTIONED EARLIER. IN MY GREEN DRESS AND GOLDEN ACCESSORIES, YOU COULD SAY I'M THE PRINCESS FROM OUR SHOW– ROYAL, ELEGANT & A SYMBOL OF JOYFUL ENERGY, AS THE COLOUR GREEN DEPICTS. SUKUNA: AND MY RED & BLACK TUX REFERS TO THE EVIL KING OF CURSES— THE POLAR OPPOSITE TO THIS SWEET LADY. *sends a very conspicuous wink to Kore*

THE VISION'S GETTING MUCH CLEARER NOW... BUT WHERE IS THE THEME OF THE STAR-CROSSED– YOU DID NOT JUST CALL THEM STAR-CROSSED LOVERS 'CAUSE OF THE MANY PROBLEMS THEY'RE FACING CURRENTLY, DID YOU? ARE THEY NOT GOING TO HAVE A HAPPY ENDING? OH MY GOSH... IS THIS YOU BOTH POSSIBLY GIVING THE WORLD A SPOILER RIGHT NOW?

SUKUNA: *glancing at Kore with a smirk* AT THIS MOMENT, WE DO SEEM TO BE A BIT STAR-CROSSED, DON'T WE, MY QUEEN? *Kore nods, muffling her laughter with a palm*

WELP, DEAR VIEWERS— SEEMS LIKE THIS IS THE MOST WE CAN KNOW FROM OUR BELOVED ROYAL COUPLE— NOW, RETURNING TO THE IRL DUO– WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE ASPECT OF THE OTHER'S OUTFIT?

KORE: NOTHING— EXCEPT THE FACT HE LOOKS A LEGIT FIVE-COURSE MEAL IN THAT SUIT, MAYBE? SUKUNA: *sighing deeply* I WISH GETO WAS YOUR MENTOR IN PLACE OF THAT GOJO– HE IS A TALENTED ACTOR BUT A PATHETIC TEACHER. MORESO IN THE FIELD OF ROMANCE. YOU CHOSE THE WORST PERSON EVER TO ASK FOR TIPS. KORE: *coos, moving to pinch Sukuna's cheeks* BUT THEY'RE WORKING ON YOU, AREN'T THEY? SEE, HOW PINK HIS CHEEKS HAVE TURNED! ALMOST AS MUCH AS HIS HAIR— HAHAHA–

IT PAINS ME TO INTERRUPT THIS CUTE MOMENT BETWEEN YOU TWO— BUT, SADLY I'VE HIGHER AUTHORITIES TO ANSWER IF I DON'T ASK YOU ALL THESE QUESTIONS ON THE SCRIPT—

KORE: *moves a bit away with a sheepish smile* UM, SORRY!! PLEASE ASK. SUKUNA: *rights his clothes, then smiles politely* YES, PLEASE CONTINUE.

THANK YOU!! SO, MS. KORE, CONSIDERING THIS IS YOUR DEBUT GALA, WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON THIS?

KORE: I'M TOTALLY IN LOVE WITH THE ENTIRE CONCEPT OF THE BLR GALA '23!! INCREDIBLY NOVEL. INCREDIBLY BEAUTIFUL. MARA, MY SWEETEST ANGEL, I'M SIMPLY IN AWE OF YOUR MARVELLOUS BRAIN, GIRL! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR PLANNING THIS!!! AND I LOVE YOU!!!

WHAT ABOUT YOU, MR. SUKUNA? THIS IS YOUR FIRST TIME ATTENDING THESE EVENTS WITH SOMEONE BESIDE YOU, ISN'T IT? WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS?

SUKUNA: *shares a brief yet visibly soft look with Kore, before looking ahead* I'M VERY HAPPY, HAVING KORE BY MY SIDE. BESIDES BEING A WONDERFUL CO-STAR, SHE IS ALSO AN AMA—

*A loud yell of Sukuna's name interrupts him. The camera moves from them, to Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru in the distance, the white-haired man jumping up and down with an exuberant beam while his black-haired companion waves his hand. Kore and Sukuna look at each other once, the former with a bright grin & the latter with a sigh, before looking at the interviewer.*

SUKUNA: *smiling apologetically* I'M SORRY BUT IF THEY'RE HERE, THE REST OF THE GANG TOO WILL BE HERE PRETTY SOON— KORE: WE'RE SORRY BUT I THINK WE OUGHT TO CUT THE INTERVIEW A LITTLE SHORT NOW. *offers a contrite smile*

OH, PLEASE DON'T BE SORRY!! I GET IT. WE ALL GET IT. THANK YOU SO MUCH, MR. SUKUNA & MS. KORE, FOR ATTENDING THIS INTERVIEW. I, ON BEHALF OF EVERYONE ELSE, WISH YOU AND YOUR SHOW A STELLAR FUTURE AHEAD! WE ARE CERTAIN JUJUTSU KAISEN WILL BE AN IMMENSE SUCCESS!!! THANK YOU ONCE AGAIN!!

KORE: *bows* THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR SWEET WISHES! WE'LL BE SURE TO NEVER DISAPPOINT YOU ALL. SUKUNA: *bows* THANK YOU ALL.

*With a happy goodbye and another whispered apology from Kore, and a small smile from Sukuna, both of them walk in the direction of their co-stars and friends– where, sure enough, many more well-known faces can be viewed. The camera returns to the inerviewer after a moment.*

WISH WE HAD MORE TIME TO ASK THEM MORE QUESTIONS, DEAR VIEWERS— BUT ONE THING REMAINS UNQUESTIONED. MR. SUKUNA & MS. KORE HAVE AN IMMENSE POTENTIAL TO BE ONE OF THE LOVELIEST COUPLES IN THE– HUH??

*The camera shifts from the astonished face of the interviewer, to where Sukuna and Kore are walking. Hand-in-hand. The camera lingers there for a moment before going back to the interviewer. The latter blinks at the camera– with a mildly disbelieving yet an excited smile, nonetheless.*

THE SHIP IS VERY CLOSE TO SAILING— OR HAS IT ALREADY SAILED, FOLKS?

#BLR Gala '23 #sukuna 💞 kit #<The Countless Chronicles Of Kore>#kit interacts 👋#kit saves stuff ✅

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donteattheappleshook · 11 months

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Dare I say forever...

Part 3 of Lover of the Light (AKA Wish Baby)

Summary:

He’d turned the tavern upside down trying to find her, had scoured the streets for any sign of her golden hair, of the eyes he’d only just been gazing into. But she was nowhere, and the panic started to settle. No. No, it has to have worked. That was why they found the bloody star in the first place - light magic, no tricks, a wish that would send them both home. But she’s not with him.

The reunion of WishEmma and SilverWishHook after the events of Lover of the Light and Ghosts that we Knew. Also affectionately (and agressively) nicknamed Wish Baby

Rated E

Catch up on Ao3 (where my italics work) or on Tumblr: 1 2

HAPPY SUPER BELATED BIRTHDAY @the-darkdragonfly 🎁🎉🎂🎈

This fic is suuuuuuper late but that’s because (as you know) it turned into a 34k word monster that had to be turned into two parts/chapters. You’re the loveliest person ever and I hope you like this conclusion you’ve been demanding for two years! 😘

Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you @elizabeethan for betaing this fic that is way longer than it was supposed to be when you agreed to read it! 🙏🙏

And thank you @kmomof4 for being a second set of eyes when I decided to write this story out of order! 💕

********

Part Three

“You’re too bloody old for this,” Killian grunts, shoving at a handful of bloody roses - because of course it had to be roses - and their bloody thorns, reaching for another gap in the criss-crossing wood that creaks under his weight. He’s too old to be climbing trellises in the middle of night to sneak into a lass’s bedroom - especially a bedroom in a bloody castle.

He heaves himself up another step, hook getting caught in the tangles and he struggles to free it without falling on his arse. His arms hurt. His legs hurt. His back. His breathing is so loud that he worries they’ll hear him across the garden where two guards are supposed to be stopping people like him from breaking in and whisking away princesses. He should tell Emma to fire them.

A thorn catches his palm and he curses, sweat beading on his temples as he covets the strength he had as a younger man, the energy. He needs it now. He needs to find her. One moment he’d been holding her hand in that tavern, the light blinding as he tried to keep his eyes on her face for as long as possible, and the next, she was gone. The Emma who’d come here had disappeared, but this Emma, his Emma, he still doesn’t know where she is.

No. No, it has to have worked. That was why they found the bloody star in the first place - light magic, no tricks, a wish that would send them both home. And then a new panic had set in. Home. If she’d been sent home, back to the castle where the other Emma had just used magic in front of her mother…

And so here he is, climbing the trellis beneath her window like a suitor in a storybook, only older, and wearier, and sweatier. But he embraces the exhaustion, the burn of his limbs, because it keeps the worst of his fears at bay. What if she’s just gone? What if she was never sent to another land? What if he can’t bring her back. What if she’s lost to him forever?

He doesn’t want to think of what that would mean, of what it might do to him to have her ripped away like this. He fears who he might become without her, who he was when he met her, the emptiness that had consumed him, that she had filled. She’d changed him.

He reaches the window, grunting embarrassingly - though there’s no one around to hear it - as heaves himself over the edge of her balcony. It’s dark, the blinds are closed and he can’t hear anything inside. He calls her name, tries the door when she doesn’t answer. It’s locked. Why the hell is her bloody balcony door locked, he groans. Probably to keep people from climbing up the trellis into her room.

Slipping his hook into the keyhole he curses when it takes him longer than he’d like to pick the lock. He’s out of practice at breaking and entering. When it finally unlatches the door creaks open under his hand and he winces, everything feeling too loud.

“Swan? Emma, love, are you there?” He tries to ignore the stirring dread when he receives no answer, searching in the dark. He’s never been here before, their meetings always in the tavern or on his ship. The room smells like her, her scent clinging to the walls, haunting the space as it does his cabin every time she has to leave. He calls her name again, checking the bed, searching the sitting room attached. Her chambers are bigger than his whole bloody ship.

She has to be somewhere. He’ll search the whole bloody castle if he has to. Unfortunately his fear makes him impulsive; his desperation makes short-sighted; and his lack of practice makes an idiot. Because when he opens the door to the hall, prepared to go storming off looking for her, he forgets to listen, forgets to be silent, or armed, and he comes face to face with two guards - or face to back.

Bollocks. He tries to back away slowly, but it’s too late, the guards turning, their swords drawn as swiftly as his own. So much for sneaking about the palace unnoticed - he’ll have to find her quickly. He disarms the first two easily - not killing them, he knows Emma is close to some of the guards and he doesn’t think she’d appreciate him doing away with her household staff - but one of them shouts and more come running. Five, who he manages to take down, then ten, harder this time, a few still standing when more come, and soon it seems the whole bloody army is in her bedroom.

“Get your bloody hands off of me,” he spits as four hold him down, force him to his knees, disarmed, bloody and bruised. A new guard walks in, older than the rest, a commander more than a fighter now he imagines.

“We found him breaking in, Lord Humbert. It looks like he came up through the balcony.”

“Tell whoever’s stationed outside to report to my quarters,” the man says in an accent close to Killian’s own. “The bloody idiots can explain how they let someone get into the princess's room.” Killian likes this one, the name familiar. He just can’t place it.

“Care to tell me what you’re doing here?” Humbert asks.

“I would,” Killian snarks. “But I’m in a bit of a rush, actually. I have people expecting me. You know how it is.”

The guard actually looks half amused, glancing at his clothes and at his hook. “Aye, well, I don’t think you’ll be seeing anyone anytime soon. The punishment for attempted kidnapping is death, Captain.”

Killian gives him his most charming, sarcastic smile. “Well it’s always nice to be recognized.”

“Your title won’t do you much good when you’re facing the gallows, I’m afraid. Take him away.”

“Wait!” he says through gritted teeth before the guard can turn away. “I wasn’t trying to kidnap her, I was trying to bloody warn her.”

He stops, frowns. “About what?” Killian sets his jaw. He can’t tell this man anything without revealing Emma’s magic, possibly putting her in even more danger. Humbert waves his hand and he’s being dragged to his feet as the man walks away, a wolf on the back of his armor. “You’re Graham - the one who saved her mother.”

Graham stops, turns back, raising a hand again and the soldiers holding him relax their grip only slightly. “How do you know that?”

“Emma told me. She also told me that you taught her to track when she was little. Her governess got angry because she would come back covered in mud and leaves.”

“Emma told you?” Graham asks, frowning deeply, stepping closer.

“Aye, she cares for you - said you were like a second father to her. Which is why I’m sorry about this.” The man hardly has a moment to register his words before Killian pulls a sword from one of the guards’ belts, hitting Humbert in the face with the hilt and knocking him out cold. The other guards are caught off guard, Killian making quick work of them. “Sorry,” he says to them before taking off down the hall - Emma’s made him soft-hearted. “True love and all.”

***

Emma nearly falls into the water. One moment she’d been sitting with Killian in the room that belonged to another version of her, and the next she was stumbling across the deck of a ship. She blinks, looking around at where she is, recognizing the Jolly, the open sea around her. She touches the fabric of her clothes, the riding pants and vest. Hers. She’s back. They must have done it - her Killian and his Emma. Running below deck, she throws open the door to his cabin.

“Killian?” she calls. But there’s no answer. The ship is silent, empty, eerily so. She searches the bosun’s room he’d spent so many nights in, the galley, the hold, the deck. He’s not here. Why isn’t he here? She makes her way to the railing, looking out at the docks. This isn’t the port near Misthaven. “Where are you?”

She lets her magic flow through her, humming under her skin, extending beyond her but not far, holding tight to it. Killian, where are you? Emma lets it pull her to the edge of the ship, looking out into the dark water below, her reflection visible in the bright moonlight, the waves rippling through it before the image shifts and she nearly gasps.

Mirror magic. She hadn’t meant to use it but she can see him coming through beneath her reflection, as though it were floating to the surface. The tavern. Misthaven. She doesn’t know what his ship is doing here, why he’s not on it, but she’s going to find him. Emma raises the main sail and makes her way back to the helm, looking up at the stars, the constellations he taught her. She points the ship east, back to him. She’ll find him. She’ll find him and she’ll tell him everything.

He hadn’t been at the tavern when she arrived a little over an hour later. The barkeep had seemed confused when she’d asked if he’d seen Killian. “He was ‘ere earlier - with you. Ran outta ‘ere like a bat outta hell. Assumed you wen’ with ‘im.”

“Do you know where he went?”

The man shook his head. “Maybe ‘e’s lookin’ for you too.”

“Damn.” If he did, then he’s at the palace, and she needs to find him before anyone else does. She takes the barman’s horse back to the castle, hopping off and sneaking around back to the servants quarters to avoid being seen. She needs to sneak in, find Killian, and sneak him out before anyone even knows she’s there.

The door to the kitchen is unlatched, the cook notorious for leaving it ajar, livestock often making their way into the pantry searching for snacks. She’s relieved to find it empty, creeping through the room to the staircase that leads to the great hall. If she has to search floor by floor, she will.

She decides it’s her best bet, starting up the winding staircase. She can hear the sounds of guards above her, worried they’ve already found him, and she picks up her pace, taking the steps two at a time. She barely hears the footsteps, barely hears the sharp sound of metal being unsheathed before she nearly crashes into him.

Someone catches her just in time to avoid her plummet back down a hundred or more steps, and when she looks up to see her savior, she can’t believe it. “Emma?”

“Killian!” she throws herself in his arms, holding him tightly and he freezes. But then she’s pressing her lips to his and his arms wrap around her, drawing her closer, letting her push him back against the wall as she kisses him like she thought she’d never see him again. He’s here. He’s safe.

“Is it really you?” he asks, pulling away enough to brush his thumb over her cheek. Emma nods furiously, beaming and crying all at once. “Yeah, it’s really me.”

“Where did you go? Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. It’s a long story, but, Killian, we have to go. If they find you here -”

He nods, solemnly. “I know. Come on.”

She takes his hand, and he just looks at her, that air of disbelief still in his eyes. Then he looks at her hand and she knows he’s thinking the same as her. She thought she’d lost him, and she doesn’t resist as he pulls her back to him, kissing her one more time, just because it won’t be the last.

A clamour comes from upstairs, footprints and armor and blades and Killian breaks away, drawing his own sword. “This way!” she hisses, leading him down, but she freezes, footsteps coming from below as well and she turns wide, frantic eyes on him.

“It’ll be alright, love.” She doesn’t know if she believes him this time…

“Unhand her!” a voice shouts from above them.

They both whirl around, each with a protective arm thrown out across other, leaving them standing side by side. “Stand down,” Emma orders and Killian takes another step forwards, sword in hand as the guard looks at her, hesitant, uncertain and she orders him to stand down again. Why aren’t they listening?

“Swan,” he whispers, hook pressing into her hip, trying to hide her behind him. “They know about your magic.”

She only lets the panic take over for a moment, simmering low in her stomach, heart hammering, before she channels it. Light begins to simmer in her palms. “Then they have all the more reason to listen.”

“Emma!” Her magic vanishes, the familiar voice sending a pang through her. They both turn, but it takes her a moment to raise her eyes to his, to see how he’ll look at her now, if there will be fear there, or worse, hatred. Killian raises his sword at the guards there, led by an older man with a scar on his chin.

“Dad.”

“Emma, we were so worried,” he says. Killian’s sword lowers slightly as her father steps forward and his eyes settle on the pirate holding her back, on his weapon. “Step away from my daughter.” He’d kill him. She knows he would. She can see it in his eyes, magic or no, he’s her father and he would destroy anyone who tried to hurt her.

“Dad-” Killian drops his sword but doesn’t leave her side.

“Seize him!”

“Dad, wait!” He doesn’t listen, guards grabbing Killian, dragging him off of her, and she reaches for him as her father pulls her to his side. “Dad, wait, no!” She’s crying now, shouting at him as she grabs for Killian’s hook.

He gives her a small smile that she knows he doesn’t feel, knows is just for her. “It’s alright, love.” He brings her hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it before he’s dragged off. “I’ll find you,” he calls. “I promise. I’ll always find you.”

Emma turns to her father, grabbing at his tunic. He’s staring after Killian, an expression she can’t read on his face, but not the abject hatred and murderous intent that had been there a moment ago.

“Dad, please, don’t hurt him.” He finally looks at her, brow pinched in confusion, and she says the words she’d been so afraid to confess to anyone but Killian. “I love him. Please. Please, don’t hurt him. I’ll do whatever you want.” His eyes go wide, mouth falling open and she lets her head fall against his chest, somewhere that had always felt so safe. His hand comes to the back of her head, a reflex born of years of soothing her tears and her words are muffled against his shirt through her tears. “I can’t lose him. I love him. Please.”

***

The cell door beside his opens, another prisoner tossed in with a grunt and a few choice curses at the guards. The women in this kingdom certainly do have a way with words. “And here I thought I had the place to myself,” he says because even now, for all his years and all the time he’s had to learn better, he still hasn’t.

“You won’t have any place for much longer,” the guard says to him. Ah yes, those pesky gallows they keep mentioning.

“Ou, ominous,” the prisoner next to him says, laughing as the guard walks away. She’s a woman, he can’t see her, a thick stone wall separating their cells, but her voice is light despite its bite and her hands hang out the bars she leans against, distinctly feminine. “What did you do to piss them off?”

“Trespassing.” It’s not completely untrue. He did trespass in the castle. And he’d trespassed where he had no right being the moment he thought he could be a part of Emma’s world.

“Hanging for trespassing?” she demands. “Man, this kingdom is rough.”

“It was a bit more complicated than that.”

“How so?”

“Look, I’m not really in a chatty mood, what with my imminent death and all.”

“Ah, I get it. First time?”

He scoffs. “Not hardly.”

“Always nice to meet a kindred spirit.” Killian can hear her smile and he finds one tugging at the corner of his lip. He likes this woman. She reminds him of Emma in a way, the snark and the dark humour. “So, you’re not in a talking mood,” the prisoner says when he doesn’t answer. “Are you in an eating mood?” She sticks her hand out, offering a roll of bread. “It’s not much of a last meal but I was able to snag it off the guard's plate when he was tossing me on my ass.”

Killian takes it, not having eaten since this morning, hand slipping out of the bars to reach for it. “Thank you.”

She gasps when his hook flashes against the iron, but not in fear. “You’re the pirate who tried to kidnap the princess.” She sounds almost impressed.

“I wasn’t trying to kidnap her.”

The prisoner laughs. “Sure, and I wasn’t trying to rob that carriage.”

“I wasn’t -” he sighs. It’s pointless. There’s no reason to argue.

“Okay, I’m sorry. You weren’t trying to kidnap her. So what were you doing?”

“I was trying to find her.”

“... to kidnap her?”

“To warn her.”

“... That you were going to kidnap her?”

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

“I am, thank you.” He doesn’t answer. “So are you going to tell me what you were trying to warn her about?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because there’s nobody else to talk to and I might be the last person you talk to. You know, deathbed confessions and all that.”

He scoffs. “I’ve been in more dire straits than this and found a way out.” He begins doing just that, searching for a weakness in his cell, anything that could help him get free - or anything he could use to overpower the guard.

“And go where? This palace is a fortress.”

“To her,” he says to himself, but she hears them.

“Who? The princess?” He doesn’t answer. “Oh, do you want to tell me about it?”

“About what?”

“Come on now. You don’t seem like a stupid person, but you’re stupid enough to break into a castle to try and talk to her. And to break out of the dungeon and go right back to the same castle to find her. I mean, it’s not difficult to figure out. Life-in-danger stupid is the kind of stupid that’s only brought on by one thing.”

“Love,” he says quietly.

“Yeah. So, do you want to talk about it?”

He sighs. “What would be the point? I’m going to lose her no matter what now.” Either her parents will kill him, or they’ll find a way to keep her away from him forever.

“Because… Say you do die tomorrow; say this is your last night. If you can’t be with her, don’t you at least want someone to know your story? Don’t you want someone to be able to tell her that you spent your last hours thinking about her? I would.” A pang pulls at his chest. He hasn’t feared death in a long time, he’d not had anything to lose, to leave behind. “But hey,” she says, “maybe I’m just a romantic.”

“I… I promised her it would be alright. I knew it was a risk from the beginning.”

“So why did you do it?”

A small smile tugs at his lips. “You’d understand if you met her. I knew it was a risk, but I also knew that I had no chance, the moment I met her…”

***

Her father takes her down to the kitchen, dismissing the rest of his guards as he leads her to the table. He sets to making a cup of hot chocolate - ‘The best remedy for when my girls are upset,’ he used to say - and puts it down in front of her. She’s still crying and he’s looking at her like he doesn’t know what to do. It’s the first time in her life he hasn’t had an answer.

“Sweetheart, talk to me. What’s going on?

“Are you going to execute him?” The thought is so horrible, the question so harsh that her fingers shake around the mug.

“I… no. No, we won’t do anything until we know what’s going on. But you have to tell me.” Emma takes a shaky breath, trying to calm herself. “You… You said you love him.” She can tell the sentence is hard for him, both to say out loud and to wrap his head around. She nods.

“Isn’t he a little old for you?”

“Dad.”

It’s his turn to take a deep breath. “But… When…How long has this been going on?”

“A year.”

“A year?” Emma nods and he runs a hand over his face, processing - poorly. Her father clears his throat, stands and digs out a bottle of liquor. “We might need something stronger than cocoa for this conversation.” He pours two generous servings and drinks deeply from his. “Maybe you should start at the beginning.”

She takes the second and nods. “He saved my life.”

***

Killian told her the story of how they met; how she’d fought a pirate twice her size and twice her age, how brave and strong she’d been as she held her own until the very end. He told her how he saved her and brought her back to his ship, how she’d stayed the night and then never left. He told her of the months they spent on the Jolly Roger, how scared she’d been of her own magic, how beautiful, and awe-inspiring it had been to watch her come into her power.

He told her how she’d been the one to kiss him first, and he told her of the fear and doubt that had held him back. He told her how Emma fought him, every terrible excuse he could think of, and then asked him to let her try and love him. And he told her how she had. He told her how he fell in love with her, how every moment he spent with her made him love her more.

He told her how they knew she eventually had to go home, and how it destroyed both of them to leave the world they’d created behind. He told her how they would meet every fortnight in a tavern near the kingdom, and how they sailed away whenever they could.

He told her about their last meeting, their last night where she’d asked him to run away with her, to take her somewhere she’d never be found, to love her and be with her and forget the rest of the world. He told her how they both knew that was something they could never have.

“The next time I saw her, she wasn’t her. She was another Emma, one from a world where she and another version of me had somehow defied the odds. They’re happy, together, in love.”

“Another her?”

“It’s a long story,” he sighs. “There were wishes and stars involved.”

“Would you run away with her? If she asked you again?”

He thinks for a long moment. He hadn’t wanted to make her leave her family, her home, her birthright. But ever since he thought he lost her, now that he fears he’s lost her again… “Aye. If it was truly what she wanted, I’d sail away with her in a heartbeat.”

“What if she asked you to stay?”

“I don’t see how that would ever happen.” Where he is now attests to that.

“But if she did ask, would you?”

He feels a slight tug at his heart. It’s something that’s bothered him since that first time Emma asked him to run away with her, the first time he’d kissed her on the deck of his ship - she’s never asked him to stay. Perhaps it makes sense, she fits better into his world than he does into hers. But that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t give up everything for her - the Jolly, his crew, his life at sea…

“I’d be with her anywhere she wished rather than spend another day not by her side.”

The woman behind the wall is quiet, and he lets the moment hang in the space around him. It’s strange, to have confessed so much to a stranger, to feel such a weight lifted from his chest for it. But he feels relieved, as she’d suggested, that someone besides the two of them will know their story, that his love for her was real, and true, and that he loved her until his last moment.

“It’s morning, you know,” she says softly and he looks up, no light in the dungeons apart from the burning candles. But his body can feel the change in time, trained the way it has been for centuries to wake on his ship, to keep track of days and years in Neverland, and he realizes he spoke all night. “And listen.” He does, but there are no sounds apart from the dripping of water somewhere in the damp caves. “No drums.” She’s right. There are no drums announcing his execution, no guards come to take him to the gallows. “It looks like you might get that second chance after all.”

He hears the clattering chime of keys, a lock being turned and then the door beside him swings open. The prisoner steps out, coming to stand before his cell. She’s older than he expected, long silver hair with only a few remnants of black, ivory skin still lovely despite the passing of time, and eyes the colour of sea glass.

The woman rests a hand on one of the bars, looking at him with an intensity that holds him in place, keeping him from reaching for the keys she holds so near. “If everything you said is true, Killian-” Those eyes bore into him, a kindness behind the strength… Emma’s eyes. “Then I’m glad my daughter found you.”

***

David and Snow sit in their chambers, at the small table in the sitting room they’ve always used for these kinds of conversations, the difficult ones that called for debate and decisions. The Arguing Table, the king had once dubbed it. But now neither speaks, both lost deep in thought at the revelations that have been brought this morning. Their daughter has magic, something she’d been so afraid of them learning that she ran away, terrified of what they’d do to her.

They failed her. Their own fear and trauma passed on to the person they love most in the world. ‘Emma is the product of true love,’ Blue had told Snow when she’d gone running to her after Emma - or, not Emma - had used magic and then disappeared two days ago. ‘That’s the most powerful magic of all, and it creates a light strong enough to vanquish any darkness.’

They’d been scared, of course they had, the sudden power unexpected and bringing back so many horrible memories. But the fact that she believed they would turn against her, fear her and not the unpredictability of magic, it breaks both their hearts. They swore that if they found her - ‘When we find her,’ Snow had insisted - they would make it right.

And she’s in love. Their beautiful, wonderful, perfect daughter is in love - and she kept it from them. Snow had feared Emma would never open herself up to love again, not after that horrible man had come and toyed with her heart when she was so young and left her without a reason, so heartbroken that David had nearly hunted him down and killed him himself. Snow had nearly let him.

Their stories match up; after hearing what Emma told David, Snow believes that everything Killian told her in the dungeon was true, right down to her wanting to run away with him. She loves him so much that she would give up her home, her kingdom, them for him. And it stings, of course it does. But she’s their daughter, Snow knew she wouldn’t need them as much one day, that she’d find her own happy ending apart from theirs. Her husband is still not as convinced, staring at the fire with his hand at his chin, oscillating between disbelief and indignation.

“I still want to kill him.”

“David!”

“I’m not saying that I will. I just don’t like the idea of some pirate twice her age coming here and seducing our daughter away.”

“He’s not twice her age,” Snow says, as patiently as she can despite her exasperated sigh. “And she’s a grown woman, how old they are doesn’t matter. Besides, I think from what they told us, it was the other way around as far as who seduced wh-”

“Ah!” he grimaces, holding up a hand. “I don’t want to hear that.”

“Tough.” He looks up at her with those sad, hurt, puppy dog eyes he uses so well without ever meaning to. “He didn’t steal her away, Charming. He’s the reason she came home to us at all.”

Her husband, Prince Charming, knight and King of Misthaven, pouts, and slouches back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. “So what, I’m just supposed to accept a pirate as a son-in-law?”

“If they decide that’s what they want to do, then yes. But this isn’t our parents’ generation, they don’t have to get married.”

“Oh, he’ll marry her,” David says and this time it’s a threat.

“Whatever they decide, I think we have to accept that he’s the one she’s chosen. And if we want to keep our daughter in our life, then he’s part of the deal.”

“But he’s a thief!”

“So was I.”

“He’s not of royal blood!”

“Neither are you.” He looks almost offended and Snow reaches for his hand across the table. “You didn’t hear the way he spoke about her, Charming… I think it might be true love.”

He sighs, shoulders sagging, turning his hand to hold hers. “I know.”

“You know what that would do to her if we tried to separate them - what she would do. We’ll lose her, David. I don’t want to lose my daughter.” He nods, squeezing her fingers affectionately and she knows he’s on her side. He always is - it just takes him a while to realize it sometimes.

“I suppose I could knight him,” David says, lost in thought again, clearly still not over the idea of having a pirate for a son-in-law.

Snow lifts their entwined hands, pressing a kiss to his thumb. “Whatever makes you feel better, darling.”

***

Emma hasn’t slept, up all night looking for Killian, then finding him, then losing him again and then sitting up with her father, telling him the story of how she met and fell in love with a man he doesn’t approve of. She knows he doesn’t approve. But he would probably never approve of anyone she chose to be with, overprotective since the moment the Evil Queen had threatened her, before Emma was even born. She fears what he would do to Killian if he knew about the baby.

Her hand settles over her stomach. He’d promised he wouldn’t harm him, at least not until they decided what to do about the situation, and he made her promise not to go looking for Killian. It was a promise she’d almost broken seven times in the few hours she’d paced her room before sunrise. What does he mean ‘when they decide what to do about the situation’? Would they send him away? Keep him locked in the dungeon for the rest of his life?

The relief she feels over her parents not fearing her magic pales in comparison to the anxiety that consumes her at the thought of being separated from Killian. She knows if they send him away, she’ll find him, and if they keep him in the dungeon, she’d get him out, or he’d get himself out and take her away. And her father knows it too. Which means the only true way to keep him from her would be - no. He promised.

It’s just after dawn when she’s summoned to the throne room, her footsteps echoing across the empty hall, no one but the King and Queen sat in their thrones, waiting for her. Her mother stands, crossing the room to take Emma’s face in her hands, kissing her cheek and then hugging her tight.

“I’m so sorry,” she says quietly. “I’m sorry you were so afraid to tell us.” Her voice is choked with tears she always lets herself shed, mighty queen or not. Snow releases her, looking at her again, eyes watery as she strokes her cheeks. “We love you, Emma. You’re our daughter. And we want you to be happy, no matter what that looks like.” Her eyes dart up to her mothers, hope blooming in her chest where her heart beats rapidly. “I know you told your father, but I want to hear it from you. Is he really what you want?”

“Yes,” she says without any hesitation. “More than anything, Mom… I love him,” she pleads and the queen’s tears begin to fall as a smile spreads across her face. She looks back at her husband, nodding.

“Bring him in.” Emma’s heart jumps into her throat at David’s words, turning to the large doors that are being pushed open by two guards. Another two file in, followed by yet another two who lead their prisoner inside, each holding one of his chained arms.

“Killian!” His head snaps to her, looking stunned to find her there, the wind knocked out of him as she sprints across the hall to throw herself at him. He can’t hold her, not with his hands cuffed in front of him, but he tucks his chin into the crook of her neck, speaking into her hair.

“Are you alright?”

She nods, not ready to let him go. “Are you?” He nods as well, but grunts when she squeezes him tighter. ‘Six guards seems a little excessive,’ she hears her father’s voice behind her, but she’s too busy pulling back to look at him, the cuts and bruises she’d not seen in the dark last night. ‘It was… necessary, Sire.’

Killian smirks. “Don’t worry, love, I’ve lived through worse. I just don’t bounce back as quickly anymore as I did when I used to sneak into young lass’ bedrooms.” Emma shakes her head at him and lifts a hand to his brow, tracing the curve of his temple and cheek and lets her magic seek out his pain, settling on his chest where she lets it flow out of her and into him, healing them all. He breathes a little sigh of relief. “Thank you.” She can feel the way the guards tense at her display of power, inching back slightly.

“Release him,” Snow orders. “And leave us.” The guards do as they’re told, freeing his wrists and leaving the throne room, shutting the door behind them. Killian’s arms come around her immediately, holding her close until her father speaks again.

“Come forward, pirate,” he orders and Killian looks up over her shoulder at the king, then at her.

“It’s okay,” she promises, because for the first time since she returned from that other reality, she has hope it will be. Emma slips her fingers between his, walking by his side to the thrones, her father doing his best to loom over him, to intimidate him, despite the way his hand is grasped around his wife’s.

“My daughter says she’s in love with you.” Killian turns to smile at her, barely a movement but she catches it before he’s looking seriously at the king again.

“Aye. And I love her.”

“And I’m sure you realize why this might pose a problem for us, both as rulers and as her parents.”

He smirks. “Ah, yes, the pirate thing.” Emma nudges him with her elbow and he squeezes her hand. So not the time for snark. Her mother seems amused though, pressing her lips together in a telling way.

“Yes, that. Obviously we can’t have a pirate courting the heir to the throne. And as she’s so determined to be with you, and we don’t wish to lose our daughter to a life at sea, it comes down to one question. Are you willing to remain in Misthaven and give up your life for her?”

Killian speaks at the same time as she does, refusing to let them force this choice on him. “Wait -”

“- Aye.”

No, no this isn’t what she wants. She doesn’t want him to have to give up the life he loves for her, the only one he’s ever known, his home, the sea… His thumb brushes over the back of her hand when David presses him.

“You’d give up your title? Your reputation? Your ship?”

She knows her dad’s just testing him now and she opens her mouth to call him out on it - there’s no reason he can’t have a ship even if he lives here. But Killian turns to her, eyes so full of emotion it stops the words dead. “I already have.”

Her heart is pounding in her chest, in her throat as she stares at him in disbelief. What does he mean he already has? She doesn’t get a chance to ask, David slapping a hand down on the arm of his throne.

“Then it’s settled. You’ll be a knight.”

“Well, nothing’s been made official, yet. We can figure out what works best -” Snow starts but he continues.

“And you’ll get married.”

“Only if you want to. And only when you want to.”

“We’ll have to do something to make sure the story is told to the kingdom the way we want it to. Rumours could -”

“David.” He goes silent finally. “We have plenty of time for all of that. For now, let’s just give them a moment, alright?”

“I still think he’s too old for her.”

Killian is still looking at her, nothing but love and hope in his eyes and she doesn’t know what to say, what to ask. What does he mean he gave it up? She thinks of the Jolly, empty and abandoned in that port not far away. Killian is never far from his ship, never leaves her unguarded. He brings their entwined hands to his lips, kissing the back of hers and she hardly notices her parents leaving the room, the hall empty now, just the two of them and her voice echoes despite how softly she speaks.

“Killian… Did you give up your ship for me?”

He doesn’t break her gaze. “Aye.”

Her heart is racing again. “When? How? Why?” None of the questions seem big enough to capture the scope of what he’s telling her, what she can’t wrap her mind around.

“When you were ripped away from me and sent to that other bloody realm. It’s how we got you back. I traded the Jolly for a wishing star.”

Emma frowns. “Traded? To who?”

She can see the apprehension that creeps over him, but he doesn’t falter. “Blackbeard.”

“What? Why would you do something like that? She’s your home.”

“Don’t you know, Emma?” She only stares, waiting, aching with guilt at what he gave up for her, what else he’s going to give up. “My home isn’t the Jolly Roger. It’s you. She’s nothing but planks of wood and a sail. That ship was my home because the only life I wanted to live was aboard her. Now that life is here, by your side - if you’ll have me.”

She’s crying now, tears slipping silently down her cheek. “I didn’t think that you’d want to stay, not when it meant giving up a life of adventure for court politics and dances.” It was why she hadn’t told him about the baby either. She didn’t want to tie him to her, to land out of obligation.

He smiles softly at her and she can see the tinge of hurt in it. “You never asked.”

“I didn’t want you to have to give up anything for me.”

His smile is sweeter now and he reaches to brush away her tears. “You were willing to give up an entire kingdom, a crown, and your family for me. Is it so unreasonable to believe that I would do the same for you?” He leans in to kiss her but she stops him before their lips can touch, a hand on his chest.

“Wait. I want to say something before you kiss me and I forget everything I’m thinking.” He gives her an amused smirk but nods. “When I was in the other reality, I met another version of you.”

“Aye. I had a similar experience.”

“He told me something.” She remembers the younger Killian’s words, ones she’d been so afraid to believe. But he’s given up so much for her and she needs him to know that it’s not just him, that he’s not the only one who found his home. “He told me that I’m your happy ending. But before you say anything,” she cuts off the words that had started to come out of his mouth and he shuts it. “I want you to know… that you’re mine.”

His eyes water at her confession, smile wobbly as he beams at her. “Now can I kiss you?”

“Yeah,” she laughs and he lunges forward, smile capturing hers in a way that she knows he’s here to stay. She never should have doubted it at all.

***

“I could get used to this, you know,” he tells her as they make their way up to her room, much to her father’s irritation - ‘We’ll get you set up in some quarters-’ ‘David.’ - and his amusement.

They’d spent the day patiently sitting through meals and plans and agreements with her parents, Killian constantly thrown off guard whenever a servant would appear, as though by magic, and offer him something to eat, or refill his cup when it was empty - something he would have to watch out for, lest he accidentally get sloshed in front of her father.

The halls they walk through now are ornate, carved stone and gilded windows, art the likes of which could buy a thousand ships decorating the walls. “I can’t believe you were going to give this up for a cabin and a galley.”

Emma snorts, hand holding his hook as they walk, swinging it between them. “One day in a castle and you’ve taken to the life?” she asks, parroting his words from so long ago. Killian only smirks.

“It’s a hard life to resist when it comes with such a lovely face,” he flirts and sees her cheeks flush even as she rolls her eyes. He reaches out and brushes a thumb over her blush. “And such a lovely colour.” He continues to trace along her jaw. “And such a lovely neck,” he says, fingers ghosting along the line of it.

Emma’s tongue slips out to run over her lip as her breathing shallows and he feels a pang of desire tug him closer. He’s not touched her, not properly, in over a week, and with the adrenaline of the last few days finally fading, he’s overcome with the need to feel her beneath his hand and mouth. He traces her collarbone, fingers inching towards the swell of her breasts, following the curve of the lace that hides her from him. “And such lovely -”

She pulls him down the hall, the last few meters to her bedroom where two guards stand outside, the same he’d done away with last night. “You can go, thank you,” she tells them, pushing the door open and dragging him inside. Killian can’t help the smug smirk he flashes at them before she shuts the door.

She grabs for him, tugging at the clasps of his vest as she scolds, “You can’t touch me like that in a hallway where my parents live and where there are a hundred guards constantly watching us.”

He raises an amused brow, shucking his coat and vest as she starts on the buttons of his shirt. “If this is your reaction, love, I think I very much can - and will.” He doesn’t give her a chance to answer, hooked arm wrapping around her waist, lifting her and spinning them so he can press her against the door. The wanton little gasp she gives when her back collides with the wood goes straight to his cock and he presses the hardening length into her as she wraps her legs around his hips, watching her bite her lip before claiming it for himself.

Gods he missed her. His mouth slants over hers finding her tongue and growling into her when her hands reach for his belt, tossing it to the floor and starting on his laces. This is hardly the way he’d intended for their reunion to go but her grip is already vice-like around him and he’s shoving her skirts up around her hips.

She strokes him hard, as though she can read his mind when she says, “we can go slow later.” There’s filth in her eyes and in her promise and he’s going to bloody lose his mind if he’s not inside her another moment. Killian takes her hands, forcing her to release him and pinning them above her head with hand and hook, the motion so familiar, too familiar.

He stops, memories of her - another her - splayed out on his desk while he fucked her like this and he knows she said Emma wouldn’t mind, but he does. His desire is replaced by guilt, and fear of her reaction when he tells her. Because he has to tell her.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, sensing his change in mood.

“I…” He looks away, releasing her hands and they settle on his shoulders to steady herself as he lets her down carefully. “I have to confess something to you.”

“What is it?” Her voice is full of concern, for him and only for him, her hands gentle on his cheeks, stroking through the silver patches in his beard she knows better than him now. “You’re scaring me a little,” she says and he makes himself look at her, heart heavy.

“When the Emma from the Land Without Magic came here in your stead, she sought me out for help and I... I thought she was you and we shared… a dalliance. I’m sorry, love. If I’d known - I should have known.” He expects anger, fears hurt, but instead she sighs in what sounds like relief, a small smile at the corner of her lips before she rises on her toes and presses them to his. “You’re not angry?” he asks, pulling back in surprise, and relief.

She shakes her head. “You thought she was me, didn’t you?”

“Aye.”

“And you had no reason to think she wasn’t - I mean, she is me.” But she wasn’t. And that was what tore him up inside. “And, it would be hypocritical of me to be jealous.” He looks at her in question. “I thought… I thought you’d been cursed, given fake memories by the Evil Queen.”

“The Evil Queen?” She nods, his heart frantic at the thought of what danger she might have been in.

“I was terrified, and he - you - made me feel safe,” she says, hands gripping the collar of his shirt. “Like you always do.” He strokes a hand through her hair, glad that there was a version of him there to help her, to make sure she came back to him in one piece. He wouldn’t trust her safety to anyone else. “So if you’re guilty of something, then I suppose I am too. But I’m glad she found you, that she had you by her side because I don’t think I’d have made it through that ordeal without you either.”

“Emma,” he says softly, cupping the side of her face and kissing her brow. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“And neither did you,” she says firmly. “I think that maybe you and I, Killian and Emma, are meant to find each other, to save each other, to fight for each other, no matter what world or circumstances we’re born into. We belong together. Always.”

His chest feels as though it was going to burst, swelling with the love he has for this woman, love that no time or place or distance or curse could ever falter. “I like the sound of that.”

“Good.”

He kisses her again, softer than before, hand gentle as he explores the length of her arms and back and waist through her dress. They have time for slow now. “You’re entirely over dressed,” he tells her and she nods, smiling as he reaches for her laces and begins to pull them free, mouth at her neck and then her breasts when he sends both dress and shift to pile to the floor.

“Now that,” he comments, looking over her shoulder, “is the biggest bloody bed I’ve ever seen in my life.” Emma laughs, one of the favorite sounds he knows he can draw from her. He scoops her up again, hand and hook wrapping her legs around his waist. “I say we make proper use of it,” he suggests, crossing the room.

He drops her on the mattress, watching her practically disappear beneath the thousands of pillows scattered over the blankets. He crawls over her, tossing them all aside one by one as he digs her out and she giggles. “First thing to go when I move in are these bloody pillows.”

Emma raises a brow, biting back her smile. “When you move in? That’s a little presumptuous, don’t you think?”

He narrows his eyes playfully, dips his head to nip at her shoulder. “I believe I’ve all but been ordered to, love.” He nips her again, lower this time, teeth grazing over the swell of her breast. “And if there’s one thing a captain knows, it’s that orders must be obeyed.”

“Well, if they must, they must,” she says, long suffering and he kisses her quickly before sitting up to shuck his shirt, reaching for his brace. “Wait.” He stops and finds her watching him nervously, face flushing and he knows that expression. She wants something and she’s too embarrassed to ask for it.

“What is it?”

“I… Killian told me something else.”

He almost expected to feel jealousy, her blush and her hesitation making him think that he told her something in a very similar position to that in which they find themselves now. But he only finds curiosity, realizing it’s a rare and intriguing situation he finds himself in for her to have been with a version of him who didn’t share their history, who may know things about her that they’d not shared yet or that Emma doesn’t even know about herself. He remembers the ‘yes, captain’ that had fallen from the other Emma’s lips, something he’d not known he wanted to hear or that he would enjoy so much.

“I imagine he told you many things, he’s a very wise man,” he teases, lowering himself back down over her. She rolls her eyes a little but some of her anxiety wavers. He kisses her, chaste and sweet. “What is it, love? I’m not jealous.”

“He said that you take your hook off because you think I won’t like it - that most women are afraid of it.”

“Aye.” Insightful bastard, isn’t he?

Her eyes soften, fingers tracing the silver in his hair she’s so fond of as she brushes it back from his face. “Killian,” she sounds almost annoyed. “I’ve never been afraid of your hook. It’s as much a part of you as your hand or your wrist, or… any other appendages,” she flushes again and he smirks. Emma brings a hand to his cheek, eyes soft, serious. “I love every part of you, alright?”

He nods. “Alright.”

“Good. So only take it off with me if you want to. Not because you think I do. I know it makes you feel safer to have it on.” He was touched that she’d noticed, though he ever said anything, but after so many years of living at sea, at risk of attack at any moment, being caught without his brace and hook left him feeling vulnerable in more ways than one.

He leans down, lips falling over hers gently. “Thank you.” Emma reaches for him when he breaks the kiss, pulling him back down to her and presses her mouth to his. She kisses him slow and deep, mouths wide and tongues searching, Killian lowering himself over her as he tries to get closer. His stomach tightens at the small sounds she makes when her breasts press against his chest, when his hips lie flush with hers, the long, low moan she lets out when she feels his cock hardening against her.

He trails his mouth along her neck, tongue hot and wet against her skin as he tastes every inch of her. She gasps when he rolls his tongue over her nipple, pulling it into his mouth to nip and suck slowly, lazily and he can feel her growing more frustrated beneath him, clinging to his hair and back. Killian smiles against her skin, he knows that when she gets like this it’s so easy to make her come, that he’ll be able to do it again again on his fingers and tongue and cock. And it makes him wonder.

The high, choked sound that leaves her when he glides the rounded curve of his hook over her breast makes him growl low in his throat and he does it again, dragging the sharp tip in a slow circle around her nipple. She hisses out a ‘yes’, writhing slightly beneath him and gods he doesn’t think his cock has ever been so hard in his life.

He slides the edge over her stomach and watches her press her lips together in anticipation, nodding when he hesitates above the apex of her thighs. ‘Please’. The sight of her seaking her release on his hook is something he never thought he’d crave so desperately, and it drives him almost mad with lust.

His mouth closes over the peak of her breast again, hook between her legs, rolling over that sensitive bundle of nerves in time with the desperate rocking of her hips as he brings her to the edge once more. Her mumbled, incoherent pleas of his name and for more nearly make him spill himself in his leathers like a still wet-behind-the-ears lad. She’s always had this effect on him, the only one who seems to be able to defy his age and his experience and make him so bloody quick off the mark.

When he can see she’s nearly found her release, just at the crest of that clifftop, he slides between her thighs, thrusting into her and feeling her come on his cock. “Gods, you’re bloody brilliant, Swan,” he curses, rocking into her and relishing every exhausted little moan of pleasure that she lets out when he pushes back in. He can feel the ripples of aftershocks trembling around him. “Can you keep going, love?” he asks, watching the lazy way her back arches under him, her brow pulled low over tightly shut eyes, not wanting to push her past her limit with how tired she no doubt is.

He’d not meant it as a challenge, but he can see the way one flashes in her eyes when she opens them, narrows them at him, and then she’s pushing at his shoulder. He lets her roll him onto his back and he sits up when she falls over him to capture his mouth with hers, holding them both upright as she glues herself to him and kisses him until she draws a low moan from his chest.

She ruts her hips against his, a strangled cry falling from his lips as she smirks. “Can you?” He’s at a loss for words when her hand wraps around his length, rising and sinking down over him. His hand fists in her hair, drags her mouth back down to his and kisses her as she rocks against him. They pant and moan and gasp against each other’s lips, breaking away only enough to curse or speak words of praise and encouragement and pleas into the air between them as she moves over him.

He can tell that she’s close, the sounds leaving her faster and she pushes him down onto his back, leveraging herself on his chest as she rides him towards her release. She’s not a princess, she's a bloody goddess, golden hair falling around her shoulders, nails digging into his skin as she takes her pleasure, bringing him to the brink of his own.

He can’t not touch her, sliding over the length of her stomach, feeling each rise and fall of her ribs, closing his hand around the soft skin of her breast, thumb rolling over her hardened nipple. He traces up her neck to cup the back of her head when he feels her start to tremble around him, pulling her down to slant his lips over hers as he comes, hard and sharp and leaving him shaking, tasting her release on his tongue as she follows him over the edge.

“Gods, I missed you,” he breathes as she collapses over him. They lay panting for a long time, Emma’s weight a pleasant comfort over his chest and hips as he draws patterns over her back. When she eventually rolls off of him, he pulls her to him, tucking her back snugly against him and pressing a kiss to her ear.

“I think I’m a fan of this whole confession thing,” she says, still breathless and exhausted and he laughs. “Anything else you feel the need to get off your chest?” Emma teases.

“Not at the moment, love, but I’m sure I’ll be able to think of something once my heart doesn’t feel like it’s going to burst out of my chest.”

“I have one,” she says after a long pause and he can feel the shift in her mood. “I may have accidentally stolen the Jolly Roger back.”

“What?” He lifts his head and she looks over her shoulder at him.

“Yeah. I came back on board and it was empty and I brought it here to find you.”

“Bloody hell.” He wants to laugh. No doubt he’ll probably have to face Blackbeard at some point over it, but he’d not gone back on their bargain. Blackbeard had left the ship unattended and so it was taken from him. He beams at her, pressing a kiss to her lips. “You’re unbelievable.” His heart feels lighter. While he’d have traded it a hundred times over for the woman in his arms, he can’t shake the joy at having his ship back.

“Does that… change anything?”

“Like what?”

“Do you still want to stay? You have a choice now… more than you did when you said yes and I-”

“How many times do I have to tell you, Swan? There was never any choice. It was always you. I told you a year ago. I’ll be here until you send me away.”

A tear slips down her cheek but he knows it’s a happy one so he only kisses the trail it leaves in its wake. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Then I have something else to confess.”

“Oh?” he asks. Emma nods, reaching for his hand that’s still wrapped around her, resting over her heart. She draws it down until it rests low on her stomach and folds both her own over it. It takes him a moment, a heartbeat where he looks at her in confusion before it clicks and his heart doesn’t beat at all for a second. “Swan?” He looks up at her, searching her face for answers, not able to believe it, but she nods, lip caught between her teeth. “Are you sure?” His voice is rough, tears caught in the back of his throat.

“Yes.”

Killian shifts so she can roll onto her back, spreading his hand wider over her still flat stomach. He looks at her in awe more emotions than he has names for flooding through him as he leans down and kisses her belly. A child. His child, something he never thought he’d have. Milah hadn’t wanted any others after Bae and there’d been no one he’d wanted to share that with after she died. Until now.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“I’m bloody terrified,” he laughs, unable to look away from where his hand rests over the life they’ve created. Terrified and happy, the happiest he’s ever been in his long, long life.

“Oh, good, me too.”

He kisses her stomach again and then takes her face in his hand and kisses her the way he had when she told him she loved him, the same overwhelming joy and disbelief and honour. “Thank you.”

“I mean, you did half the work…”

He shakes his head, laughing as he kisses her again for her cheek. “For everything. For loving me, for fighting me on it, for bringing light and laughter and hope back into my life, Emma. I love you. So much. And I promise I’ll be there for you and for her,” he says, hand settling back over her stomach, “for the rest of my life.”

“Her?” she asks, her smile wet with tears that he wipes away.

“Aye. A little girl, strong and powerful like her mother, and born of true love like her as well.”

Emma pulls him down to her, kissing him hard and fast and he’s not sure whose tears are dampening their cheeks but he doesn’t care. “I love you.” She says it with so much certainty, a deep smile pulling at his lips. “But you remember that whole true love thing, okay. You’re gonna need it.”

Killian raises a brow. “Why’s that?”

“My dad might actually try and kill you for this.”

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