#(can i tag this with cobra husbands?)

[cobra-wives]

guys, i'm URGING YOU to listen to the full song that silver plays in his season four introduction when kreese calls him.

it's actually insane, and to think that he continues playing after hanging up... okay, i can't explain it, but you have to listen to it. this is genuinely such an intense and UNHINGED classical piece and it's the perfect choice the music directors could possibly make, in the sense of following his mental spiral after kreese calls him. MY GOD.

[bullet-prooflove]

Letting Go: Terry Silver x Reader (NSFW)

Companion piece to A Loaded Gun - Terry begins to struggle after John Kreese turns up on your doorstep.

Tagging: @volumesofforgottenlore@kmc1989@somethingdarkside17@noonee333

For the first time in three years Terry wakes up alone. His palm smooths over the cool sheets as he stares at your empty pillow, remembering the argument from last night, the raised voices, the slammed door.

It’s been coming for months, ever since the day John Kreese had turned up at the house and started talking about Vietnam. That’s when the nightmares had started, the flash backs. He���d slipped back into the role of the good Lieutenant, the one that followed his Captain blindly.

“You’re changing.” You had told him one evening over dinner.

You’d been pushing the food around your plate for the majority of the meal, ignoring the wine he had picked out.

“No.” He’d told you as he swirled the chardonnay around his own glass.  “I’m becoming the person that I was always meant to be.”

You’d sighed then and left the table.

The following afternoon he'd had his assistant choose some jewellery for you, he usually handpicks your gifts but he’d been tied up in training sessions at the dojo and he wanted something to placate you. He leaves the diamond tennis bracelet on the kitchen table for you to find when you get home from work. It turns up on his nightstand that evening when he comes home to find you already tucked up asleep.

“You’re being ungrateful.” He’d told you as he set it down on the breakfast table the next morning. Your cheeks had coloured at the remark, your eyes blazing. “Most women would appreciate their husbands giving them a gift like this.”

Most women…

That’s what he’s reduced you to. The ones who seduced him in exchange for his money, his power, his notoriety. The ones he barely cared for, the ones that didn’t care for him.

“You know where you can stick your diamonds.” You’d told him, pushing the black velvet box back across the table before you stand up and leave the room.

You prefer sapphires, he remembers, you say they remind you of his eyes.

He hates the fact he’s acting this way with you, that glimmers of the old Terry Silver are working their way back into his life. He remembers how cruel that man was, how thoughtless, how cold. This is what happens when he lets John Kreese back in, he falls into his old patterns, becomes single minded.

The night he comes home with blood on his hands is the night you walk out the door with nothing but the clothes on your back. You leave your credit cards cut up on the table.

It’s your way of telling him to go fuck himself, that you don’t need his money, you don’t need him.

It’s as he washes his hands in the bloodstained sink that his realises the enormousness of what he’s done. He’s becoming that monster again, the one from the 80s, the only difference is he’s not on coke this time, this is all him. He realises you saw the writing on the wall before he did, if he keeps heading down this road then the next person he lashes out at could be much closer to home and that’s something he would never forgive himself for.

The moment he hurts you is the instant he completely destroys his humanity.

That’s what Kreese wants, he realises. Terry alone, isolated because it gives him control. He gets his soldier back and Terry gets…

Well he gets this…

A vacant house, an empty life.

Cobra Kai becomes his world all over again.

The next morning he lies in bed and stares at your engagement and wedding rings. You'd left them on the nightstand, in the exact same place you'd set the tennis bracelet. He’d fallen asleep holding them last night, clutching them to his chest.

He knows it’s time to make a choice.

John Kreese or you.

It really isn’t a choice at all.

When he turns up at the art gallery where you work, he’s taken back to that day you met in the Louve. You’re seated on a white bench in front of a painting, your sketchbook on your lap, a black fine liner clasped in your hand. He doesn’t know what to say as he sits down beside you so he says nothing, he simply looks at the image in front of him.

It’s one of yours. He remembers you painting it on the terrace of a villa in Italy, wearing one of his shirts and nothing else. He twists his head to observe the other artwork surrounding him and realises that every single piece in this part of the gallery belongs to you.

“I’m hosting an art show tomorrow.” You say quietly, breaking through his thoughts.

“I’d like to be there.” He says softly as he studies the profile of your features. “If you’ll have me.”

“I meant what I said.” You tell him, setting down the sketchbook alongside you. “I can’t be in your life if Kreese is. He brings out the worst in you.”

And you, he thinks, you bring out the best.

You always have.

“I’m done with the past.” He promises you, his hand gently clasping yours. His thumb chases over the space where your wedding ring used to reside and it wounds him seeing it’s absence. He hopes that he’ll see it on your finger again soon, that you'll find it in your heart to forgive him. “It’s our future that I’m interested in.”

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[the-fifteen-horsemen]

. ๋ ࣭ - ୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ,, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ꜱɪᴍᴘʟᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴜᴛᴇʀ ᴘʀᴏɢʀᴀᴍ, ʜᴏᴘᴇ ɪ'ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴘᴀɪɴ!! " ,, ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀꜰɪᴀ ʜᴀꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ʙʀᴀɪɴ. ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴀʏ! >:0 "

🌐 . ๋ ࣭ - ୧ ‧₊˚ 🎐 ⋅ . ༘ ⋆ 💻

~ plague/add

~ i do not take donation asks anymore, sorry!! they crowd my blog :[

~ s3 ben hargreeves' husband guys. trust.

~ he/they/it/xe + neos

~ minor

~ i like tua, dsaf, dialtown, omori, webcore, epic: the musical, invader zim, alt culture, will wood, etc!!!

~ transmasc boyflux

~ tone tags are appreciated <3

~ nonhuman

~ in a happy qpr!!!

~ current ask blogs: @askvegasshit (dsaf oc) and @marithepianist (memory-based ask blog for mari from omori)

~ other blogs: @fictionalguykisser (selfship sideblog) and @this-bodyisnt-mine (fictkin sideblog)

๋࣭ ⭑✮💻₊ ⊹

~ fictionkins: Dave Miller (DSaF), Steven Stevenson (DSaF), Henry Miller (DSaF) Mari (OMORI), Bill Cipher (GF), Curly (Mouthwashing), Klaus Hargreeves (TUA)

~ demonkin + dragonhearted (also a fixtype!)

~ theriotypes: gray fox, snow leopard, northern pike, northern cardinal, king cobra, shark (cladeotherian)

~ c'links: Randy Jade (Dialtown), Prince Winter (WoF)

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

tags:

plague rambles ~ text posts

plagues hoard ~ misc.

doodles from the horrors ~ art

plagues children ~ oc stuff

pestilence reblogging ~ reblogs

qpr yapping ~ posts where i talk abt my partner

altar inspiration ~ cool altars that i'm inspired by!! :3

the gods are with you ~ hellenic polytheism stuff

🌐 * 📁 * 📎 ⛧°｡⋆

idk man just dni if ur icky. pedos, zoos, zionists, darkshippers, trump supporters, anti-endos, etc, all of yall can fuck off. you're not welcome here.

[lilac-ravenclaw]

tag nine people you want to get to know better!

✨ Thanks! for the tag @choccy-milky ✨

LAST SONG? - I'm always listening to music as I'm always on my computer for work. Whether I'm in the office or freelancing (graphic design) from home. Right now it was "Widow Maker" by Carpenter Brut (feat. Gunship). I love synthwave and this band is amazing if you haven't listened to their music. 🖤🎧

FAVORITE COLOR? - I go back and forth between blue and purple💜💙

CURRENTLY WATCHING? - My husband and I watch a lot of shows, but currently watching Squid Games, Cobra Kai, and Seinfeld.

LAST MOVIE? - Again, I watch a lot of movies lol. But my last movie I guess was Evil Dead Rise. Horror is my absolute fav, with sci-fi right behind.

SWEET/SPICY/SAVORY? - Savory I guess lol. I'm a picky eater but I can eat the same three things happily. French fries are my all time fav. Not the most fascinating food but I don't care, I love it 😆🍟

RELATIONSHIP STATUS? - married almost three years. But we're high school sweethearts (why I love my Raven & Sebastian's relationship) and have been together almost 17 years 💕💍

CURRENT OBSESSIONS? - Hogwarts Legacy atm 😹 and anything horror related!

LAST THING YOU GOOGLED? - Well I'm working right now, so probably something design related! 🖥🎨

No pressure tags (sorry if you've already been tagged!!): @gothic-lottie @simply-slytherin @ravenclawreign @morelikeravenbore @localravenclaw @tulise @quinnsallow @cottagelady99 @lil-grem-draws @waldensblog @alsebsallow @l34f-me-alone

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sky Full of Stars - Chapter Twenty Five.

Hey besties! I'm posting this a day early on account of the fact it's my papa's funeral tomorrow, so I'm going to be out all day. Big thanks to you all as usual for your devotion to the story. Love you! :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty One Twenty Two Twenty Three Twenty Four

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 3,539

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

Honking. This was certainly a new noise to hear within the walls of his home, Adrien sitting in the office going over emails, looking towards the doorway, Brando appearing. The dog sat down, tilting his head as once again, a definitive honk sounded from the kitchen. 

“What’s your mom doing now?”  

Brando woofed softly, his master rising from his seat, off to investigate. By the time he was walking towards the kitchen door, a third honk sounded, considerably louder in its pitch, their four cats all scattering at speed through the doorway. Yes, Jade had added to their numbers in felines, taking in a ginger tomcat stray, simply named Ginge, and Mr. Biscuits, a black tuxedo cat who had belonged to an elderly lady living in the nearby village, his wife adopting him after the death of his owner.  

“You know you guys are the natural predators of wildfowl, don’t you?” he asked, Juno and Salem taking to their cat tree, Ginge flopping down to groom, and Mr. Biscuits beginning to climb up his leg. “Literal scaredy cats.” Kissing the feline on his head, he carried him into the kitchen to discover the source of the noises, finding a sight that would have been surprising, had he not known his wife as well as he did. 

“And you’re bottle feeding a Canadian goose because?” he inquired, staying over at the other side of the island, taking a banana from the bowl and unpeeling it.  

“He’s poorly sick,” she replied, poking out her bottom lip, the goose latched onto a bottle that looked to be similar to what baby livestock were fed with. “I found him hobbling around the village green, so I caught him and took him to the vet. He’s malnourished, so Heidi thought he might’ve been somebody’s pet who’s either escaped and can’t fend for himself, or he’s been turned loose.  Either that or he’s been rejected by his mother. He’s still a baby, see? He still has a few down feather tufts. Anyway, she gave him an antibiotic and suggested I bottle feed him oat milk to get his strength up.”  

His face creased, looking pained. “Jade, he’s gonna imprint on you, and then we’ll have four cats, four dogs, nine chickens, ten ducks, two horses and a goose.” 

“Don’t be silly! It’s only goslings and ducklings who imprint. But he might need to stick around, though. If he was somebody’s pet, then he might be too used to people to survive in the wild. I’ll see if I can release him though, once he’s well.” She then gently cradled his neck, tutting. “No, no pecking! Stop it. Dave!”  

Another groan sounded from her husband. “You named him. He’s ours now. But why Dave?” 

“He looks like a Dave.” 

Shaking his head, he continued eating the banana in his hands, breaking off pieces for Mr. Biscuits here and there. Eventually, he laughed. “Only you, baby love. Only you would happily adopt a cobra chicken, bottle feed it and call it Dave.” 

She snorted with laughter, his name for geese cracking her up just as hard as the first time he’d ever used the term. “Cobra chicken! I love that so much,” she hissed, the goose beginning to settle more as he drank down his bottle. “There you go, see? Look at the magic that happens when you stop biting me, you get food.” 

If anything was truly magic, it was watching Jade revel in the role of nurturer, Adrien smiling as he finished the banana he was eating. Since becoming pregnant, that maternal side to her had amped up considerably, though, hence the cat who stretched himself out to rest draped over his shoulder, and the other one who eventually came back from hiding in the lounge once Jade had put the goose down to rest in the spare stable, forking down some straw to he could relax comfortably. If you were a creature in need to a loving home, the nice lady at Stone Barn Castle would take you in.  

After feeding the chickens and ducks, she and Adrien went for a nice, relaxing ride out over the property, nothing too strenuous on account of the weather being so warm, Mia and Saxon perfectly content to amble along sedately. All the while, he kept stealing little glances at her, thinking to himself how beautiful she looked. Her morning sickness had finally abated, and she was characteristically glowing, as expectant mothers often did when entering their second trimester. 

He also couldn’t help but notice the way she would rest a hand to her tiny bump, Jade not even noticing she was doing it half the time. The sight gave him much more in the way of heart flutters than he’d ever thought possible. It was a very exciting time for them, both enjoying that they got to spend so much of that precious time at home together, rather than having their careers separate them for weeks or months at a time.  

It was just over a further week before the Seventh Gate girls all assembled again, though, running through a few days of set rehearsals in Manhattan prior to heading to Europe to fulfil their festival commitments.  

“Skip, you’ve nearly seen off the entire fucking jar, man!” Jen shouted in one of the last rehearsal sessions, watching Jade digging her fork into the huge jar of sauerkraut in her grasp. “Craving, is it?” 

“Oh, hell yeah,” she replied, widening her eyes a touch. “Anything with a sharp flavour and I have to have it. Bob’s been sending me over salt and vinegar crisps by the box load because I’ve been craving Walker’s so bloody badly, too!” 

Katie jerked her thumb towards her, snorting softly. “Should have seen her when we stayed at hers en route to Manhattan. I’m telling you; this woman cannot be in the same room as a jar of pickled onions without demolishing them!” 

“Adrien had to hold her back from drinking the brine,” Charlotte contributed while restringing her guitar, shaking her head as she remembered it. Jen guffawed at imagining that, watching her bestie simply shrug. “That poor man, having to deal with your onion farts!” she then added, grinning widely. 

“Poor man nothing!” she muffled through a mouthful of fermented cabbage, “he’s getting laid more than lino flooring in the seventies. Trust me, he’s happy. If not a little tired.” 

Katie arrived at her side, taking a seat with a look of curiosity. “So, does it really make you super horny then, being pregnant? Since this one over here isn’t vibing with the idea of it when we decide to have little ones, it’s gonna be me carrying ‘em. I need to know the upshots of growing another person, because most of it sounds awful.” 

Jade crunched through her mouthful of food, digging the fork in again before replying. “The first trimester is hell. You feel tired, you’re puking all the time, it’s rough. Second is great, though. My skin and hair are better than they’ve ever looked, I feel fresh and yeah, the horny feeling is absolutely no joke. I can easily be on him twice a day. It’d be more, but he’s already got a sore dick and a click in his jaw from going down on me so much. I don’t want to ruin the entire man completely.” 

Her statement had Katie clapping with mirth as she laughed, leaning into her. “Oh god, that’s amazing. Ruin the entire man!”  

“Do sex toys not cut it for you?” Charlotte asked, the string now replaced as she began the tuning process. 

“You know that clit sucking one you recommended? I broke it.” 

The rhythm guitarist’s eyes almost fell out of her head. “Babe, those things are indestructible.” 

“Not when you’re pregnant.”  

“God, I’m so glad I’ll never have any of this to worry about! Me and my ornamental ovaries over here!” Jen spoke, twirling a drumstick rapidly, looking to her side. “And what are you looking all dreamy about, huh?” 

Jess’s smile continued to grow, thinking of Jayden, her new boyfriend. “Jay says he wants me to have his babies one day.”  

“Aw hell,” Jen sighed, “another breeder! And I thought you were on my team, homeslice!” 

“I was,” she confessed, still beaming, “but I might’ve changed my mind now I’ve met the love of my life.” Her boyfriend was Jayden Davies, a basketball player for the Knicks, who at six feet seven inches absolutely towered over Jess. It was something her girls had teased her about mercilessly, as well as the fact he was her toyboy at eight years her junior. It was done with much love, though, all of them adoring the sweet guy she’d fallen in love with.  

All chatting aside, they continued to run through their setlist, all hyped to be going back out on tour. They loved the big festival crowds, thriving their way through the first dates across Europe, but when the day finally came to play the biggest show of their career to date, though... well. Seeing what eight hundred thousand people actually looked like in the flesh... 

“Oh, my life,” Jade gulped, swallowing hard. “Oh bloody, fucking hell.”  

“I think I might throw up a little bit. Just to treat myself.” Jen chimed at her side, both at the wings of the gargantuan stage while the openers Motionless in White were whipping the crowd up into utter frenzy, the sea of people moving like a swarm. They both remembered how their beloved friend Dime had described it back when he’d played, the crowd stretching as far as you could see in all directions. 

He hadn’t overhyped it. Literally, it was a sea of people.  

Heading away from the stage, they weaved through the throngs of crew until they reached their allotted tent, entering with a look of mild panic.  

“You two look spooked,” Sunni spoke, eyeing them cautiously. “Why are you spooked? What have you done?” 

“Nothing!” Jen cried, moving to the cooler and picking up a bottle of Jack Daniels, unscrewing the cap and upending it into her mouth. “Oh god, that’s better.” 

Jade envied her ability to soothe her fear with alcohol. However, she did have something else that worked just as well, Adrien moving to wrap her in a hug.  

“Too many people?" He asked. 

“All of the people. All of them. And I have to go and pretend I know what I’m doing in front of them, with jellied knees, while up in my head all I can hear are panicked honking noises!” 

Sunni visibly relaxed from his tightly wound state to hear those words, Adrien laughing softly as his wife made a small noise of discontent in the back of her throat. “Listen to me, you are gonna be totally fine, alright? You’re the best at what you do, and that goes for all of you, too.” 

“Appreciated, homeslice. Imma still need a bucket next to the drum riser, though, y’know?” Jen spoke, lighting a cigarette with a slightly jittery hand.  

Looking up at him, Jade cupped his face with her hands. “Thank you. It’d be a million times worse if you weren’t here to keep me calm.”  

“Even though you’re the furthest thing from it, and will be matter what I tell you?” Oh, he knew her far too well. 

“Bingo.” She managed a laugh, kissing his chest and resting her head against him. “I love you."  

“Love you, too, Burtie." He held her close, feeling her head thudding quickly against his ribs, and then something else a little lower. “Did...” 

Her face lit up, resting a hand to her bump. “That was a kick! I’m sure of it, even though it’s early, I think it was.” Waiting, she felt around, her eyes widening when she felt it flutter against her palm again, grabbing his hand with a squeak.  

Feeling his baby kicking for the first time, his face lit up, Adrien stroking the swell of her tummy lovingly as he kissed her forehead. “See? Even our baby is telling you, ’c'mon, mom, you got this', so if you don't believe me, believe them."  

The other girls all came rushing over, resting their hands in turn to her bump, their faces alight as they felt the little kicks, all hugging her with glee. It took the edge of her nerves if nothing else. They had another five hours until their set, the time coming around quickly as the heat of the day began to abate slightly, Jen and Jade giving their husbands a huge hug before they readied themselves to hit the stage. 

Some groups huddled, some prayed, but for Seventh Gate, their pre-show routine was simple and had never changed. They held hands, all filing into a line as they walked towards the stage, taking deep breaths as they waited. Their crew sped around them, finishing the setup, everything in place. It was time. 

They were then joined by Sunni, the man looking a much paler shade of brown as he stood before them, pointing a finger at them all in turn. “Behave, behave, behave, behave and bloody fucking bloody behave!” he warned them, the finger still shaking, smiling through his stress. “I love you all, I love you to death, but I cannot emphasise enough that you all need to behave!” 

Katie couldn’t keep the grin from her face. “Yo, Sunni. Has anyone ever told you that your accent gets more strongly Indian, the more tightly wound you get?” 

It was a truth that had all five girls snort laughing, their long-suffering tour manager mildly exasperated, but laughing too as he ran a hand down his face. “Oh, god. Get the hell up on that stage and blow the fucking tits off every single person in this airfield. Go on!”  

They had decided to revert to a popular opener from a few years past, the women taking to the stage, the roar of the crowd absolutely deafening, Jade waiting in the wings, her stomach churning. Turning back to see Adrien next to Sunni, she smiled with nerves, her husband winking.  

“You got this.” she just about heard him say as the wail of an air raid siren opening their song Battle Within filled the air, the thunder of guitars swelling sharp as she walked out, grabbed the microphone, drew a breath and did what she did best.  

She roared, and by god, she roared hard.  

The energy of eight hundred thousand people going apoplectic quelled her nerves in an instant, the sight the most amazing thing she had ever beheld, a mosh pit that must have spanned fifty by eighty feet in size spinning in pure frenzy. It was to her utter delight that she made out a few familiar faces within it right at the front, picking out Corey, Jim, Mick and Sid from Slipknot, all throwing and being thrown around as she paced the stage, feeding off the energy, having the time of her life. 

Why had she been nervous, again? 

At the side of the stage, Adrien watched her, watched them all, in fact, a huge feeling of pride swelling in his chest. It might not have been to his musical tastes, although there were a few of their songs he did genuinely enjoy, but god, how he respected the five of them for how flawlessly they performed. At his side, Sunni was looking at them a little differently, Adrien moving to grab the nearby placed bottle of Jim Beam for Katie to have a few tots from between songs, along with two plastic cups.  

“Here,” he spoke, nudging him, “looks like you need it.” 

Sunni took it, sinking it in one gulp. “Don’t tell my wife.” As close to a perfectly devout Sikh as you could get, Sunni still drank here and there. As long as his beloved wife wasn’t there to witness it. Having met Perminder on a couple of occasions, Adrien could well see why he wanted to keep it schtum. She was a fierce lady, if nothing else. “Can you pour me another?” 

Laughing, he reached for the bottle again, pouring it out, Sunni sipping this time but still looking no calmer. “I can feel in in my turban. One of them is going to do something, I know it.” 

Adrien raised an eyebrow. “You’re not wearing it, though.” 

“That’s just how bloody much I can feel that one of them is going to play up!” he exclaimed, eyes wide, taking a deep breath and sinking his drink. “And I hate to say this, mate, but I feel like it’ll be your missus! I cannot cope with the idea of her getting arrested!” 

Laughing, he draped an arm around Sunni’s shoulders. “She won’t, dude. I mean, as in she won’t get arrested. Think about it, if she stood up there and actually mouthed off at the Russian government directly then yeah, it could happen, but she’s smarter than that. Doing it through song won’t incriminate her. Plus, can you imagine the scandal it’d cause, arresting a beloved A list actress, one who just so happens to be pregnant, too? Ain’t worth the hassle.”  

He could see the validity in that, he guessed, but it still made him feel no calmer as they continued to watch the hour-long set. They had played their hearts out, the crowd in absolute frenzy as the opening riffs to their final song sounded. It should have been Shadow of the Veil. It wasn’t.  

“Oh, you are fucking kidding me!” Sunni yelled, a few of the assembled techs all pissing themselves laughing, Jen’s husband Nick throwing his head back to guffaw.  

“That’s my lass!” he chuckled, fist bumping with Adrien as the band launched into Kill your Masters. The very song they had categorically been told not to finish on.  

Sunni looked like he was about to birth his own lungs. “Oh, that’s it! That’s it! All of them are getting smacked arses for this!” 

Adrien laughed, knowing he was joking, but still...  

“Yeah, Sunni I love you, man, but you lay one hand on my wife’s ass and you’ll be eating my knuckles.” The men looked at each other, both snorting with laughter, Sunni dragging his fingers through his hair repeatedly. His nerves were frayed beyond an inch of existence, especially when watching as Jade leaned over the edge of the stage, bellowing a certain line of lyrics in the direction of the assembled police on crowd control.  

“No compassion, round them up, hang them high, kill your masters.”  

Sunni’s blood pressure went through the roof. “She’s fucking done it now!” 

“Sunni, my man,” Nick spoke, the tall Scotsman nodding to the front of the stage, “most of those lads dunnae speak no English! They’ve not got a clue that JB is fuckin’ baiting ‘em like, y’know?” Again, he had to concede that he might have been overreacting a tad, but still, when the girls got off stage after taking a bow, it was to a face they expected. 

“Like herding fucking wild lions!” he yelled, Jade grabbing his face between her hands and kissing his head.  

“You worry too much.” 

His lips thinned. “Oh, JB. If you weren’t pregnant, I’d give you such a beatdown.” 

“Also, if my husband wasn’t looming over you like an albatross,” she noted sweetly, taking Adrien’s hand as they began the walk to the backstage area, the man himself playfully touching Sunni’s jaw with a closed fist. “Now stop ruining my buzz! We just played the biggest show of our careers and you’re over there with your wet blanket fuckery!” 

Boy, how it had been. Up on that stage, playing to a crowd that huge, Jade had felt on top of the world. Her pregnant hormones had gone wild, having to hold back the tears, in utter disbelief that her career had taken her to such a defining, elating point as to preside over eight hundred thousand screaming fans. Screaming for them, the headline act.  

It was such a high, in fact, that she didn’t come down from it for hours. Not backstage, not in the car on the way to the airport, or on the private jet that took her and Adrien to London for a gala they were attending two days’ from then. While he slept, she lay beside him in a state of awe, remembering the crowd, people as far as she could see in every direction. She could still hear the deafening cheers, feel the energy of the crowd, the fading sun on her face.  

It had truly been the performance of a lifetime.  

“Can’t sleep, huh?”  

Turning, she reached to stroke his face, resting back down again. “I never really do on planes unless I’m well medicated, but because of obvious reasons I can’t be. I doubt anything can dent the high I still feel, though. I’ll just have to be tired until we get to the hotel.” 

“I could help?” he offered, Jade seeing a flash of white teeth grinning through the dim light, Adrien shuffling to lie above her.  

Orgasms at forty-five thousand feet; well, if anything was going to make her sleepy, it was a couple of those. 

[the-beleza-muscadine]

💎I have eyes like diamonds💎

Hi there! Welcome to my blog!!! I'm your host, Beleza Muscadine, but you can call me Bel

I'm a fashion designer and makeup artist who lives with my husbands, Vanilla and Tippy, and our son Ramón 😊

💎Passions and interests:

• Art

• Makeup and fashion

• All things snake 🐍 I literally love snakes, but you have to respect the animal too, okay? My stand is a snake, his name is Gilded Cobra, he's very sparkly and blue with gold! But anyway, I just think snakes are super cool and interesting, plus they help get rid of unwanted pests, and they're super fun to study and watch and I like everything about them! I'll post about snakes and stuff, but I'll always tag it as "tw snake" or "snake tw" and all that, you know? Tell me if I forget to tag something!!!

• Space

• Woodworking and sculpting, especially when there's a man with a sculpted figure ahuhuhuhu 🤭

• Medical science, yes even the yucky stuff interests me. I don't even know why though, like, I shouldn't even want to see more, but I guess it's just morbid curiosity? I don't know but I can't just look away, and then I get curious but grossed out at the same time and it's just a whole big thing!

• Scary stories and Creepypastas! Especially video game Creepypastas! Oh, and horror games. Tippy and I have a habit of watching YouTubers play horror games before bed and our husband scares the heck out of us when he opens the door 😭

💎Stuff about me:

• I'm 6'2" (188.976cm) tall

• Birthday is March 25

• Favorite colors: aqua, periwinkle, gold, white, and pink! I love bright, fun, and pastel colors 🩵🩷

• Favorite Food: ramen with two over easy fried eggs, extra points if it's spicy!!!

• Some people say I talk too much and tend to ramble but honestly I think I talk just enough!!! I just have a lot to say and I'm not really bothering anybody I don't think, unless I actually do start bothering people when I talk too fast or too much or maybe too loud? Am I a loud person? I don't think so, I think I just have a lot to say, yeah, like I said before, that's all!

• I used to be pretty mean and kind of a "bully" or whatever, BUT I'm recovering and learning to be a better, nicer, more thoughtful person and stuff. I know I can slip up and say something unintentionally mean, but I will apologize and catch myself........ I think it started back when I was a kid, I felt kind of like an outcast, you know? I was bullied a lot too because people thought I was ugly and so they were mean to me, but then I started being mean back and it was a huge mess. That, unfortunately, started becoming my personality and I would get what I want by being mean and manipulative. Instead of actual confidence, I was arrogant and insecure. But now I'm legit more confident in my appearance and myself as a person, and I understand how others feel when I hurt them and whatever! So yeah

This is a blog for me to post about my thoughts and feelings and whatever!

💎More info below💎

Although Bel started off as just an original character for JJBA, they are not strictly attached to JJBA. Bel is my character and will most likely "follow me (my self insert)" to different franchises.

Beleza Muscadine is an original character created by me: @sapphire-heart-tippy . This is a roleplay and "just for fun" blog. He is not a real person (although, he feels real to me in a certain way) and everything that's posted here is part of an alternate universe called The Sapphire Heartverse: Sugar Crash Void Bash, which is an alternate universe for JoJo's Bizarre Adventure.

Unfortunately, xe cannot "like" posts, but xe can reblog them and comment/reply to comments. The reason for this is, because this blog is a sideblog for my main blog.

There will be more info to add later

There is even a slice of life alternate universe called "The Bellflower AU" where Beleza and I meet in college and fall in love.

Long story short, although Bel is "just an oc", he's more than that to me. So while he "isn't a real person", he's very much real to me in my heart and will be treated as such for the most part (as in: they have their own thoughts, feelings, likes, dislikes, and independence from me)

I love xem very very much and xe's extremely important and special to me, that's why I treat xem this way.

He pretty much taught me how to love myself and express myself without caring about what others have to say.

[diningwiththeasquiths]

WIP Game

Rules: post the names of all the files in your Work In Progress folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Thank you for tagging me @cobrakatharsis! ❤️❤️

Okay so my actual WIP fics have the most boring file names ever, namely:

Kreerence fic

LawRussos

There are also only two of them 🙈 So perhaps to make this more interesting I can also list the description of the ficlets in my drafts (because a lot of them end up in draft-purgatory), and if anyone shows interest I'll try to finish and post that particular ficlet:

Silverusso. Wrote this after thinking about how Terry would start a relationship with Daniel for the sole purpose of causing even more pain in the end.

More Dutch x Johnny

Krilverlaw ficlet. Warning: noncon.

And these next drafts are so extremely WIP that I might never finish them, but who knows, if someone shows interest I might find the encouragement/motivation:

More service top Terry (Cobra Husbands)

CK era Kreerence + viagra

Silverusso + virginity kink

Dutch x Daniel

Johnny angst

Daniel catching Kreese and Johnny in the act (Lawrusso endgame, sub!Johnny)

Silverusso + dubcon

Lawrusso + watersports

Lawrusso Porn AU

Found a loophole, since I only have 2 actual WIPs I'm gonna tag 2 people lol: @arc-en-disco (who has the most epic WIP ever 😜) and @seven-oomen. But feel free to do this too if you want to! 😊❤️

[kathleenmarymulligan]

The Pink City! (or Kathleen Rides a Camel.)

Peacock Gate- City Palace

March 5, 2023- Wow. Nearly a month has passed since I last really wrote a blog entry. I did post some photos from our trip to Jaipur and will post some more now. But I’d better get caught up, because I have a lot to tell you about our 10-day trip to Kochi that is just now drawing to a close.

First, though, Jaipur. February-2023.

We went for two reasons:

Jaipur is part of the Golden Triangle: (along with Delhi and Agra)--part of any “must see” tour of India—and we’d never been.

We wanted to visit the Jawahar Kala Kendra cultural center there, a place that seems ideal as a tour stop for our project with Khalsa College students.

The city is lovely--and also chaotic, like so many big cities, especially in India. We chose an Airbnb outside of the city in the village of Amber, and that was a wise decision for us. It’s beautiful there, and the small hotel where we stayed was a wonderful oasis after a day of sight-seeing and meetings.

The garden of our hotel

The first day of our visit was our day to explore Jaipur proper after our very productive meeting at JKK. We “did” the sights: the Hawa Mahal (Palace of the Winds), the City Palace, and the Jantar Mantar (observatory created by Sawai Jai Singh II in the early 18th century.)

Palace of the Winds (the latticed windows were designed so that the women of the court could look out on goings-on without being viewed by the outside world.)

The City Palace

The observatory

My space geek husband particularly loved this place.

I’m glad we visited, but after a walk through the old city, I was ready for peace and quiet up the hill in Amber.

The next day, we were incredibly fortunate to tag along on a guided tour of sights in Amber by our hotel host. He had two friends visiting from Germany, a retired couple who have traveled to India many times over the past 20-30 years. Our host is a font of knowledge about the area, and as a local, knows all the secret little spots.

Two ancient Hindu temples.

The original Amber Palace (used BEFORE the one built in 1599 that everyone goes to!) We were the only people exploring these little-known sights, and they were fascinating. Standing in the long-deserted (and somewhat forgotten) rooms of the king's wives, the hall where he held court, the many halls and staircases--there was a palpable energy.

We ended the tour at The Amber Fort, which is (for me) the most worthwhile sight in Jaipur. It’s massive, and beautiful and while there were a lot of tourists, it is still possible to find moments of quiet where one can imagine the lives lived within those walls.

On the path up to the fort I heard music being that said one thing to me: snake charmer! I know—at this point, this ancient art has been pretty much relegated to tourist spots—but I had never seen one, always wanted to, and was thrilled to finally stumble upon one (well, I was careful not to stumble- as the guy had several baskets containing sleeping cobras on the ground beside him. ) It was high noon, so the snakes were not as inclined to cooperate as they are in morning or evening. But it was still a thrill for me – with the little extra excitement of a bit of danger…that cobra was only about 2 feet from where I crouched on the ground to watch. (Video in "Faces of Jaipur" post to follow.)

After we finished the fort, it was time for me to check off yet another item on my bucket list—and while David attempted to convince me that I did NOT need to ride a camel- I was undeterred. Our host brought us down the hill to the outskirts of the city- where I was able to have a very satisfying (and surprisingly comfortable) ride on “Pushbah”. Touristy? You bet. But something I wanted to experience once in my life.

After one more stop at an out of the way (and not too touristy) gem store (where I was able to pick up some beautiful earrings for the girl we sponsor in Kerala and her social worker—as well as one pair of citrine studs that I could not resist for myself) we were back up the hill for our final night in the hotel’s beautiful garden (with the illuminated Amber Palace seemingly close enough to touch.)

Thumbs-up for a rather perfect weekend (and a direct flight from Amritsar!) My motto for this Fulbright: seize the day. No matter how much we see and experience, we will not see nearly all of what this country has to offer. But I’m determined to do my best!

[skylessknights]

“Look around...I’m doing just fine.” 

 "Are you?”

Cobra Kai Season 4 Episode 1 Extended Scene: Terry Silver Is a Changed Man (x)

[ziltoidcoffee]

Out of curiosity, what would Daniel's bratty subby life look like with each of his crazy karate men? (Kreese and Mike optional)

(All right, anon. What a spicy ask! All of the headcanons below are pretty much AU and very dom/sub (nsfw). And sorry, I only did Silverusso and Lawrusso. I more brotp ship him and Chozen. I also don’t know Chozen’s personality well enough yet...)

Daniel is Johnny's little bratty boyfriend who wears his Cobra Kai jacket around his shoulders when he's cold and waits for him at the dojo with a towel ready to clean off his sweat. When they graduate, Daniel becomes his personal assistant while Johnny competes in national karate tournaments. Eventually, he does convince Johnny to leave Cobra Kai and start his own dojo—with enough pouting and sticking out his plush lips. But Daniel remains at his side, taking care of all the business Johnny has no patience to deal with. He also tends to his needs in the bedroom, as Daniel always has, riding Johnny when he’s too tired after a long day of training or moaning and crying under him while Johnny pounds into him on the floor because he’s too worked up to get into bed.

Though Daniel pleases him outside the sheets, cooking all of Johnny’s meals and cleaning up after him. Johnny would be worried about taking advantage of Daniel if it weren’t so obvious that his boyfriend loved doing so, even with all his whining and bitching. He’s used to all the complaints, especially after so many years, but unlike their first few encounters, Johnny doesn’t try to shut him up with his fists. Unless you count the one pulling on Daniel’s hair while Johnny shoves his cock into his mouth. That doesn’t really stop the noise though they usually end up having sex, and Daniel is always vocal, almost embarrassingly so if Johnny weren’t so turned on by it. His friends only found out about them because of Daniel’s lack of volume control. Right before the All Valley Tournament, Johnny pushed Daniel to his knees and took him in the locker room. He thought no one would know, but after his spectacular win, the cobras handed  Daniel the trophy then shoved him at Johnny with a grin. It was mortifying, but now he had his whiny, bratty needy boyfriend and his friends too.

…

Daniel is Terry’s little househusband who waits for him to come home from work, sitting on their large, king-sized bed in nothing but a collar and a see-through robe with ruffles. He is more than capable of fighting his own battles and finding work, but Terry likes to keep Daniel away from business and safe at home. So after a long day of boring meetings and uninspiring conference calls, Terry can return home to their mansion, rush to the bedroom, and shove Daniel against the mattress. Some days, he is rough and domineering, holding his husband down by the collar while he plows from behind. Other times, their sex is slow and sensual with Daniel riding him for hours. The chiming of his dog tag attached to his husband's collar fills the room either way, and Terry is calmed by the end, relieved Daniel is still with him.

His husband doesn’t always behave. He’s always been a bit of a spitfire, and Terry has to admit he enjoys Daniel’s defense, especially when there’s a punishment. He often makes Daniel sit on the floor at his feet while Terry eats breakfast. He’ll feed him every now and then if he’s good, but usually, his punishment carries on for days until Daniel breaks, apologizing to him in tears. But if he doesn’t, Terry will force him into the most embarrassing outfit of his choosing—maid, school girl, etc. There’s almost too many options. Then he’ll ask Daniel to clean the house, letting the staff go for the day. But Terry usually ends up fucking him a few hours into the ordeal, so he’s not sure if there’s really any retribution there. Eventually, Daniel does convince him—with the flutter of his lashes and push of his lips—to teach karate, something else for him to do with his days. Terry agrees as long as he uses their private dojo at home, and of course, he gets the final word on all things business. Daniel can give his little defense lessons and practice kata. But this doesn’t change their relationship at home. While Mr. LaRusso is respected by his teachers, Daniel LaRusso-Silver puts his collar back on and gets onto the bed, ass up waiting for his husband.

[cobra-wives]

hello - welcome to my cobra kai/karate kid/miyagiverse-adjacent side blog, cobra-wives! here you can find my art, fics, thoughts and rambles, and just overall fandom discussion. blog stuff below the keep reading line - IT'S PARTY TIME!!!

✦ call me ari or bird... i go by my username as well!

✦ my prns are she/her :-)

✦ if it wasn't obvious, terry silver and john kreese have ruled my brain (whether it be conscious OR subconsciously) for the last... 5+ years? please don't ask me who my favorite character is - i’ve been a hardcore ck fan since 2021 and a casual one before that, and while i would love to say it changes every month, it's always been and always will be kreese.

✦ THIS IS A SIDE BLOG: i will usually follow back from my main, @holydongbird! (and on that note, you're literally not obligated to do so - i just repost images of bruce springsteen and dabble in what rare occasion i dip my feathers in my other fandoms.)

✦ i don't take commissions or run merch... YET. in the meantime, please do NOT be shy about leaving a request, ask, or whatever in my inbox - i LOVE talking to my fellow cobras, and please don't feel bad if your asks are simmering in my inbox for a while - i'm probably super ruffled up in classes or life!

✦ i'm not particularly squicked by anything that isn't basic gtf away from me criteria (let's be real, karate kid iii tossed THAT one out the window), but i don't go out of my way to look at stuff that makes me uncomfortable!

✦ i am also very active on ck twitter - come find me at holydongbird!

✦ TAG USAGE ON MY PAGE:

standards: ch. tags for characters (ex. terry silver, daniel larusso), ships (ex. cobra husbands, samtory), actors (ex. martin kove, barrett carnahan), etc. 

fanfiction/meta analysis: bird writes

personal muffinry/rambles: bird musings

friends/mutuals, and their amazing works: pal tag

any and ALL art: doodles (if it’s in video format, it WILL be under animatics!)

spoilers are NOT tagged under a spoiler tag, rather, please block the tag that you wish to avoid! (ex. i don’t use cobra kai s6 spoilers, but try blocking cobra kai season 6!)

edits are under fanvids!

looking for a specific era of the ck-verse on this yap page? i tag everything according to movie/show relevance :-)

i hope this pinned makes things a little more accessible for my mobile pals, and i hope you have a great day. thanks for stopping by my blog and as usual, COBRA KAI NEVER DIES!!!

[silentlylovingyourwork]

hi! i've been following your blog bc of harringrove for a while and i really resonate with your taste in fic so, since i've just recently dipped my toes in lawrusso... could you rec me a few of your fav fics for the ship? i always feel pretty overwhelmed when starting in a new fandom, so i thought i would ask. thanks in advance! 😘

Hi!!

I am honored (and terrified) to help you get ankle deep in lawrusso fics.

Under a cut because it was a lot of scrolling when I made this.

in the business of date-crashing by narcissablaxk, T, 4706 words

“Spotted: newly divorced Mr. LaRusso at Home Depot at nine a.m. on a Saturday,” the message said. The picture was blurry but there was no denying that he was looking at a picture of Daniel LaRusso, in jean shorts and a baggy flannel shirt, his hair mussed and, if he looked closely, a streak of grey by his temple.

It was a good look.

“DILF,” was all Hawk’s reply said, and then a flurry of little picture emoticons that Johnny didn’t understand.

He had to use the Google to figure out what a DILF was.

Probably the first fic I read in this fandom. It's very fun.

He's My Karate Husband by lostmagician, E, 1945 words

What the hell was going on? Was this another one of Johnny's pranks? The worst part was that Johnny seemed unfazed whenever he said it—like he was just stating the way things were.

(Or: the one where Johnny keeps calling Daniel his karate husband, and Daniel doesn't understand why)

Also a fun story.

Safe Word: Cobra Kai by Zerrah, M, 5288 words

In a bout of overprotectiveness, Daniel follows Sam to an unconventional club, and gets more than he bargained for.

One where Johnny totally knows what Daniel really wants.

Love by Amymone, G, 1165 words

Johnny just wants to tell LaRusso that he loves him. What could possibly go wrong?

It's cute.

The Last Coors Banquet in the Valley by LulaMadison, M, 29436 words

During the zombie apocalypse Johnny Lawrence searches for the last Coors Banquet in the valley, but instead he finds a 16 year old kid living alone in an abandoned apartment block. He decides to teach the kid how to be a badass Zombie killer.

(I know some people don't like major character deaths in fic, but there are no 'on screen' character deaths in this fic, although any person not listed in the tags above is assumed to be a zombie or missing. Spoiling it slightly, but any character listed in the tags above isn't going to die.

There also isn't a lot of horror in this because it's not really about Zombies, it's about finding love and family at the end of the world :-P)

A much-needed zombie au.

I Can Give It All To You, Baby by succor_punch, E, 10873 words

Daniel finds the photos. *** Whatever pervert directed this photoshoot knew what they were doing. The next pose has Johnny leaning back against a rock wall with his leg half-hitched up and he looks every inch like a prime, sex-on-a-stick alpha male. White baggy trousers that offset his tanned chest, which is... shiny. Did they fucking rub him down with oil?

It's good and also now a series.

We have been down together in my sleep by trinityofone, E, 4226 words

Listen, it wasn’t Johnny’s fault that he never realized how much he’d love getting fucked.

Lovingly what it says in the description.

Fellas, is it gay... by momma_66, T, 1933 words

To goad your karate rivial into asking you to prom and then both of your egos are too big to back out? Is it gay, fellas?

A fun take on rival daring each other to go to prom together and finding the pics +30 years later

Paler than Grass by the_sound_of_inevitability, E, 4047 words

It’s just the two of them. He told himself he didn’t need an entourage to hand over the damn form, that he was going to keep his cool.

His cool lasted all of two seconds under LaRusso’s gaze.

But then, it never lasts. Whenever he sees LaRusso it’s like an electric charge.

Inspired by the deleted scene of Daniel asking Johnny why he likes intimidation. Canon compliant... until it isn't.

What if Johnny bullying Daniel was a thing they got off to?

Tit For Tat by t_time, E, 2487 words

“I can fix the car for you, at no cost. All I need in return is a little favor.”

Johnny tensed. “What kind of favor?” He asked slowly, not sure he wanted to know.

Daniel leans forward now, smile sliding off his face. “Suck my dick, Johnny.”

--

In which Johnny is as broke as his car is, and Daniel wants his dick sucked. Written for a Kink Meme prompt.

A bit of a darker Daniel here.

When the Fires Burn Low by petofi, T, 7113 words

A couple years after high school ends, Johnny is lonely and touch-starved. He goes to a beach party where, deep into the night, people will start putting on a blindfold and undressing while other people touch them.

One night Johnny puts on a blindfold, not knowing that a certain karate rival is watching from the other side of the bonfire.

Poor touch-starved Johnny and a kind Daniel.

Snake pit by dedlit, E, 49098 words

Sets after season 2.

1st Arc: Daniel strikes a deal with Kreese and starts loosing control over himself...

2nd Arc: Johnny is back in town, Daniel's downward spiral continues...

3rd Arc: Daniel and Johnny recover, heal and slowly something new can start...

A much darker fic, so well written, poor Daniel, but it does work out

little larusso is a cobra by narcissablaxk, T, 3844 words

When Anthony asks Johnny to teach him some karate to take care of a bully, Johnny agrees, even if it means keeping it a secret from Daniel. That is, until he finds out who the bully is.

It's good and fun.

Bonus:

Functional Flexibility by LMT, M, 23692 words

“How about you, LaRusso?” Johnny says. “What’s *your* secret weapon? Your crane kick of sex?” Knowing that the conversation will go nowhere good, Daniel just tells him that he will never, ever find out. Even if he buys shots all night. ************************** ((After Daniel and Johnny discuss some newfangled ideas about sexuality, which were definitely not in vogue when they were kids, things get weird.))

It's not Lawrusso, but it is a fascinating look at their relationship and both Johnny and Daniel as characters.

[papipopsicle]

HANDMADE HEAVEN PART ONE

Pairing: Steve Harrington X Hargrove!Reader

Summary: In which the new Queen of Hawkins High finds herself falling for the fallen king.

Song: Easier by 5 Seconds of Summer

Warnings: swearing, asshole parental figures

Words: 1.7K

MASTERLIST

feedback is always appreciated

The house itself was fine, not pretty and polished like the one she grew up in, but at the very least she was grateful not to be sleeping in another motel bed filled with broken springs and anonymous stains. Susan greeted her like a good little home maker, tightly waved hair bouncing against her shoulders as she walked down the steps of the porch.

"How was it, sweetie?" The ginger woman waited with pursed lips while her step daughter stood from the vehicle. She really hated that car, it stood out like a sore thumb next to her husband's silver SUV, especially when her brothers parked alongside the two.

"Not the worst." Y/N shrugged. She missed the silent solace already, "Has Max decided which room she wants?"

Susan nodded, leading the blonde into their new home, "She's at the back opposite your father and I. William hasn't arrived yet so you have the choice of the one next to hers or ours."

Without hesitation she chose the one next to Max's. Her father helped unload her heavier furniture from the U-Haul currently fixed to the back of her red muscle car. The room was in the shape on an 'L', mirroring her step sister's. Her small double bed only just managed to fit in the crook, creating a cosy space to drift away in.

Hours of rearranging the room passed before a navy blue Camaro could be heard pulling up onto the curb and a muggy sunset made itself present in her bedroom window. Emptying out her socks into the small drawer of her dresser, Y/N dropped the empty black bin liner behind her and rushed to greet her brother.

"Billy!" She squealed, attacking him with a hug. The two would roughhouse and swear at each other like drunken sailors, but their love for each other would always be the first thing anyone noticed about the twins. He picked her up with ease and spun her around, quickly dropping her to the floor again.

Y/N's twin would sometimes forget the rude masculine persona he put on and actually behaved like himself, but it never lasted long with their father close by.

"See that hunk of crap didn't kill you on the way here then?" Billy joked as they both carried a bed frame into his new room. His distaste for the nineteen-sixty-eight Mustang Cobra was evident whenever it came up in conversation, only due to it being left to her rather than him in their mother's will.

"Not just yet." His sister hummed and the two let out a huff as they dropped the mattress onto the wooden frame. They talked about the bullshit of finishing their senior year at a completely different school and what that we're going to dress up as for Halloween. It was their favourite holiday and this year she planned on being Tom Cruise from Risky Business. Nobody would understand it but it was better than Billy's 'slutty teen boy' costume he wore most days anyway.

"Y/N/N honey, could you come into the lounge!" Susan's sugary tone rang through the house. The twins shared a look that always subconsciously found their faces when she attempted to play doting step mother.

Fucking doormat of a woman.

"Coming." The blonde shut her brothers door on the way out and walking down the hallway into the small living area. By now any remnants of the sun had long hidden away from Hawkins and only warm ceiling lights lit up her face.

Susan appeared from the kitchen door with a tray full of oatmeal cookies, grin etched into her features like puppet strings pulling at her cheeks, "Try one, would you?" She gleamed, pushing the metal tray out for emphasis, "I'd ask your father but he'd just say they were nice, never wants to upset me. He's too good."

Not wanting to answer, Y/N took a small crumbly cookie and bit into it, eyes bugging out at the statement only able to nod in response.

The step mother watched in anticipation, hair bouncing at her shoulders as usual, "So, gorgeous? Be honest with me, how are they?"

"Really good," She didn't like the woman, but couldn't deny her ability to copy a recipe, "I think these may even top the peanut butter ones."

Susan's sterile smile managed to stretch further and Y/N was scared her lips may crack and bleed from the force, "Perfect! We're handing them out to our new neighbours tomorrow. Which reminds me, I need you to get some new trainers for Maxine tomorrow, nothing expensive though, they're just for gym class. She's a four now.

The blonde resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and instead nodded while an idea popped into her head, "I drove past a giant superstore on my way here, I'm sure they're still open I can just go now."

"Are you sure, honey?" Susan sounded concerned, but Neil didn't share the same feelings, "Curfew is eleven until you start school on Monday, same rules apply here."

"I know, Dad." She nodded curtly and turned on her heel, not wasting a moment grabbing her brothers old khaki bomber jacket and her car keys. The front door shut just as quickly as it opened, leaving the small U Haul sitting on the driveway next to Billy's Camaro.

It had been her brother's favourite jacket since he was sixteen, but he'd gained so much muscle his arms couldn't slip into it anymore. Although Y/N was tall for the average girl, the material still managed to shroud her frame.

Y/N felt amazed after managing to get to the store fairly easily, she picked up some plain black pumps and paid for them with cash, pocketing the receipt to make sure Neil would reimburse her. That took less than fifteen minutes. There were still over two hours until she needed to be back at the house and she needed to make the most of any freedom from her father.

She was her mother's daughter and the opposite of Susan Mayfield-Hargrove; if someone showed themselves as a thorn and not the rose they seemed to be, they were a thorn. She could accept it and move on, which is difficult when they own the house she calls home. Her step mother was a fixer, finding wilted petals and taping them up against the thorn to appear more sightly. If Neil was the thorn, Y/N the rose, then Susan was a daisy in a field where she didn’t belong.

The younger Hargrove twin decided to explore her new home, driving around cul-de-sacs and roads which mirrored one another. After a while of aimless driving, Y/N parked up at the side of a quiet road, seeming to back onto a rich neighbourhood. She locked the muscle car, Ellie, and began walking on the edge of the road.

"Stay put, El." She whispered to herself, echoing her mother's voice. Meredith Hargrove always swore her car changed parking spaces whenever they went somewhere together.

Y/N couldn't imagine having so much space, no family was big enough to make use of it all. Her feet brought her into the small forest area, passing a few more eccentric gardens before finding one which intrigued her. The lights were all off, moonlight bouncing off the unmoving water in the centre of the garden.

Swimming had always been something the Hargrove girl not only loved but turned to in uncertainty. Billy would surf alongside her a long time ago, but he hadn't for years now. Her eyes danced around each room, unable to see any kind of life within the mansion. Against Y/N’s better judgement, she left the tall trees and let her toes edge onto someone's private property.

It seems a shame not to.

Fallen leaves stopped crunching under her brown boots as they found concrete slabs. The family must have employed a cleaner and gardener as nothing seemed out of place or dirty. The water was clear and not a single leaf or bug lay on its surface. Crouching down, her fingers drifted along the water, creating a small ripple, confirming her suspicions of how cold it would be.

She didn't care, stripping down into her underwear in the cool autumnal winds, anyone would've thought she was a crazy person. Y/N ignored the small ladder next to her and gracefully dived into the pool, swimming down to the bottom until she needed to come back up for air. The blonde lay on her back, staring up at the stars wondering what her friends were doing on the other side of America. Probably at Sadie's getting high.

Y/N wasn't sure how much time had passed, her fingertips were now wrinkled but it didn't bother her. She was in her element, so much so she didn't register when the kitchen light turned on and alerted the homeowner of someone in their pool.

Steve's body was overcome with terror as he did a double, triple take out of the kitchen window at the figure in his garden. He only wanted some leftover lasagne. Grabbing his nail punctured bat, the home alone teenager unlocked the back door, and against his own better judgement, creeped towards the intruder.

As he came closer, he was thankful to find a girl than a demogorgan, a girl he certainly didn't recognise. Her blonde hair lay on top of the water like a halo as she floated in her own world.

"Hello?" He questioned, bat still firmly in hand, "Why the fuck are you naked in my pool?"

Y/N left her mini trance, flailing in the water as her eyes found a teenage boy wielding an odd weapon, only a scream leaving her lips in response.

part two?

want to be tagged? just send in an ask!

[marnie1964]

Karate Kid/Cobra Kai survey

i'm gonna consider myself tagged

It’s the year 2021 and you’re obsessed with The Karate Kid. How are you feeling?: an unexpected turn of events but it's passing the quarantine, i guess!

Did you grow up with TKK or are you new to the series?:  to be completely honest, i don't really like the movies? i didn't vibe with them as a kid and when i went back and tried to watch them this year i couldn't make it all the way through.* i think they're well crafted movies, but i've never liked relatable young boy wish fulfillment (i couldn't even get thru harry potter as a kid), and i think the first one is guilty of burying the lede twice over with regards to mr. miyagi and later the relationship between kreese and johnny. and lucky me--these are exactly the areas that cobra kai delivers on.

*except for the third one, which imo is a camp masterpiece and also genuinely heartbreaking. it's the only one that allows daniel to be an genuine pain in the ass. i think i've finally figured out what the target audience for cobra kai is: people who's favorite karate kid movie was tkk3 (me).

We gotta do the basics. Favorite character: johnny! what is a man but a miserable pile of bruce springsteen lyrics? or aimee mann lyrics? or mountain goats lyrics? or otis redding lyrics? or--fuck, have americans ever written songs about anyone else? i have an unreal amount of good will towards this man and his late-life struggle for recuperation. he's the heart of the show both in terms of his relationships with other characters and in terms of zabka's chemistry with the other actors.

my deep dark double secret fave is kreese. he makes me feel real anger in a way that's usually reserved for characters in vince gilligan shows. i'm a bit obsessed with him and his preoccupation with johnny and later johnny's teenaged son (I Have Thoughts). the show does a great job of making what he did to johnny--and all the years and years and years of fallout from that--feel really real, which makes him one of the most viscerally despicable villains i've ever come across . it's unironically among the best portrayals of domestic abuse i've seen, may god have mercy on our souls. the decision to pop out from behind a fucking cardboard cutout of himself to scare daniel in tkk3 was also a hilarious galaxy brain move. aspirational stuff.

also--shout out to daniel-san. the writers really had to work their asses off to make him into a character that appeals to me, and i think they did a great job of it. he's a cringey tool who's capable of displaying a surprising amount of integrity under the right circumstances! he's tom wambsgans! he's pete campbell! he's wonderful i love him!

Favorite ship:  johnny & daniel (what if mysterious skin was a sports comedy??)

Underrated character: the True and Correct answer to this question can only be aisha, although i don't think she was actually underrated by anyone besides the writers. chozen is also lowkey my favorite katate child because c'mon, he had everything (spear fights! ziplines! teen death matches! formfitting disco-era polyester button down shirts worn with gold chains!)

Underrated ship (don’t say therapy, lol):  uhhhh... the only teen couple that could have been interesting is tory/aisha. they were cute together and their friendship rang true to me. it's that thing where you're the new girl and you're conventionally attractive, but on the inside you know you're a freak so you immediately gravitate towards the most obvious female outsider. i lived it, bay-bey!

i also think there are interesting things to explore with carmen and johnny's relationship. i don't know if the writers are even aware of it (i lean towards no b/c men amirite) but the entire premise of carmen's character is that she chose to live in poverty to protect herself and her son from a bad man with power. she's thereby the exact opposite of johnny's mother, who (at least by his understanding) married hollywood film producer shmarvey shmeinstein to provide her son with a better life. so, there's a lot to unpack in his attraction to her. also they're super hot hur hur i like sexy nurse thing hur hur.

Wax On, Wax Off or Sweep the Leg?: i can't look directly at it, but sweep the leg. zabka what the fuck man.

Which of Daniel’s dumb little outfits is your favorite?:  i don't think i've seen anyone mention this one yet, but the football jersey with the sweatpants. it makes him look so small and huggable, i wanna pick him up and set him on my shelf or something.

Character from the films you most want to return, who’s not Terry Silver: bring back ali's lesbian girl gang!!! or else--dutch. he was funny and iconic, i loved his exaggerated offended reaction to everything daniel said or did in tkk. also, i'm tacky so i'm a sucker for aggressively bleach blonde hair. the SCANDALIZED wasp couple standing behind ali and johnny in the spaghetti scene will also do. or terry's secretary (an mvp--i believe the original actress has passed away so in my heart of hearts she's portrayed by j. smith-cameron).

Scene that lives in your head rent-free: the whole character development speed run that johnny does from sweep the leg to crying while handing daniel the trophy to getting strangled in the parking lot by his beloved teacher. i'm especially transfixed by that last bit--what's the thought process of a man who decides to publicly execute his teenage student via strangulation? why did none of the many bystanders call the police? johnny is the real kitty genovese, prison for everyone.

from the cobra kai series proper: daniel's decision to greet johnny with a big hug after not seeing him for 35 years and never actually being friends with him (I Have Thoughts), the heinously creepy scene where johnny is repeating the cobra kai mantra for miguel and his entire disposition completely changes (demonic possession shit), and johnny's tiny go-ahead-and-kill-my-abuser nod (his face is so stoney after being so animated at dinner) coupled with daniel's shaky little sign of relief (macchio is really the cutest when he looks scared).

it goes without saying that every johnny & miguel scene lives rent free in my HEART.

Will Anthony LaRusso ever be relevant?: anthony becomes relevant for one (1) episode next season when amanda and daniel finally get around to putting him up for adoption.

You live in The Valley and are forced into the karate gang war.  Which dojo do you join?:  i enter the cobra kai dojo decked out in all of my snake-themed clothing and jewelry (it's a lot). i approach kreese and explain to him that the open mouth of a snake, viewed head-on, is a yonic symbol. i am permanently banned from the cobra kai dojo.

(seriously though, assuming i'm a teen in this scenario i think i would have vibed with tory/miguel/aisha. dimitri and sam would have driven high school me up the fucking wall though. the cobra kai style looks like more fun/better exercise. do i also genuinely believe most young girls could actually benefit from someone yelling no mercy down their neck? maybe so 💖)

What’s your training montage song?:  50ft queenie - pj harvey (it takes place in the alison bechdel feminist karate dojo ofc)

It’s the crossover event of the century! Which TV show are you combining with Cobra Kai for an hour-long Saturday night special?: it's a full episode flashback to the time johnny got arrested in albuquerque, new mexico. johnny's court-appointed attorney is a weirdly hot babe who seems like a super straight laced killjoy at first, but soon reveals herself to be an unhinged woman. one thing leads to another, and johnny winds up in bed with her and her loser husband. there are lots of great themes about punitive justice, people's ability to change for the better (and worse), and what makes someone "good" or "bad" to begin with, but mostly it's just really hot sex. the husband tries to sell johnny a prepaid cellphone and johnny tell's him that cellphones are never gonna catch on, cause who want's to be bothered by people all the time like that?

better call saul. it's a better call saul crossover ep.

(fwiw think that greg 'hbo succession' hirsch should also be terry's cousin greg on the non-roy side. think about it--the roys are small people, but cousin greg is really tall?? and who else is really tall, and a blue eyed brunette to boot? terry silver. it all adds up! this never becomes relevant to the plot, in any case, i'm just considering it canon until the writers come to my house and explicitly tell me i'm wrong.)

Tagging: anyone who's interested 😘

[shireness-says]

coming ashore (to my lover’s arms)

Summary: For three years, Captain Killian Jones has been seeing Princess Emma of Misthaven in secret. When the Evil Queen kidnaps Emma's father, however, secrecy is set aside. Can they save the king and find their own happily ever after? ~10.5k. Rated T for language and fighting. Also on AO3.

~~~~~

A/N: Back in March, I ran a giveaway after I published my 50th fic on Ao3, which was won by the lovely @ouatxxxxx. She requested Princess Emma and Pirate Killian, and an established relationship. Being me, I threw a little adventure in and some cute Captain Cobra moments. I don't think anyone is complaining. Sorry this took so long to finish - thanks for your patience!

Big thanks to @snidgetsafan for her beta-ing, as well as the whole host of people who listened to me spitball ideas. 

Tagging: @ohmightydevviepuu, @profdanglaisstuff, @welllpthisishappening, @optomisticgirl, @scientificapricot, @let-it-raines, @thejollyroger-writer, @kmomof4, @teamhook, @winterbaby89, @spartanguard, @searchingwardrobes

Enjoy - and let me know what you think!

~~~~~

He used to love the sight of the open sea, stretching as far as the eye can see in every direction like a vast unknown full of every possibility. The sea used to be home - the place in this world where he felt most like himself.

But times change, and people do too - even stubborn, 300 year old pirate captains. And these days, Killian finds himself much more drawn to land and one particular port.

Or rather, one particular lady in one particular port.

He hadn’t gone looking for love, of course; quite the opposite. He’d come looking for treasure, and met a different jewel altogether along the way. 

Killian smiles at the memory. He’d had half a plan, a bit too much confidence, and rather more drink than anyone about to try and rob the royal palace ought to consume. The trail of ivy winding up to a non-descript third floor window had seemed like a stroke of luck; the real stroke of luck, he’d realize later, was reaching the top only to find himself face to face with a princess and her sword.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she’d demanded - in a tone rather less regal than he expected, he might add - and he’d had no choice but to surrender as her blade trained with deadly precision on his throat. 

(He’d surrendered his heart at the same time, but that was yet another realization for later.)

“Well, I had planned on a bit of casual larceny, lass,” he’d said as nonchalantly as he could muster, “but I rather think that may not be in the cards tonight after all.”

“You think?”

“I’m smarter than I look, love,” he’d assured her with a smirk. “Now, the way I see it, we’ve got three options. First, you let me make my way back down the vine. Second, you lower your sword and we continue this lovely banter in a more civilized fashion - perhaps in those chairs — ” he’d nodded towards a pair of armchairs facing a cozy fire to demonstrate — “and with a bit of rum.”

“And the third option?” She’d sounded amused, at least, which Killian had thought at the time was a good sign. 

“Ah. You run me through with this sword you apparently and inexplicably keep in your chambers, and that’s that. I’m admittedly rather less fond of the third option, I will say, but it seemed foolish not to point out the obvious.”

The lady had held her stance for a moment longer, staring down her steady blade with a confidence he wouldn’t have expected from a princess. Then again, nothing about this little excursion had gone the way he’d expected. Somehow, he’d felt as if she was evaluating him; holding a man at swordpoint certainly had given her one hell of an opportunity to do so. Finally, her blade had lowered, leaving Killian to breathe easy once again.

“You mentioned something about rum?” she’d asked, nodding towards the armchairs in invitation.

“What kind of pirate would I be otherwise?” Killian had smirked in return, sauntering over to drape himself over the flimsy seating. These chairs were clearly meant for little more than decoration.

“Can’t say I’ve met any pirates, so I couldn’t possibly say. A poor one, I take it.”

“You said it, not I.” After taking a hearty swig, Killian had passed the flask across to his unexpected companion. She’d taken to the liquor like a champ, just another unexpected thing about her. He’d started to realize that the lovely blonde in front of him was no ordinary princess. “As an aside, have you considered trimming the ivy outside your window? All manner of unsavory creatures might climb up - less chivalrous ones than I, who might wish to do harm to your lovely self.”

“Ah, but then I wouldn’t be able to climb down,” she’d retorted with a sly smile. “I’ll take my chances.”

Not an ordinary princess at all. 

They had only talked that night - two strangers, who never should have met, in an odd situation and bonding over the flask of rum. He’d learned about her parents who want to keep her safe at all costs, practically trapping her inside the walls of the castle except when she manages to sneak out down to the town and whatever darkened tavern she can pass unnoticed in, and about the magic she’s still learning how to use. She’d told him about her dead husband and the young son she loves more than anything in the world, and in turn he’d told her about his dearly departed brother and the way that he can’t help but feel these days that he’s on the wrong path, that Liam would be disappointed in him.

And it should just  have been a one time thing - two ships passing in the night who were never meant to meet. She’s a princess, after all, and he’s nothing but a pirate. But he couldn’t get her out of his mind, and the next time he’d found himself in that port again, he’d dropped by the tavern she’d mentioned as her usual haunt on the off chance he might see her.

He had thanked every god that had long since abandoned him when he did.

“I’ve heard a rumor,” he had said in lieu of greeting, reveling in the smile that had inched its way across Emma’s lovely face, “about a princess in these parts sneaking down the vine outside her window. I don’t suppose you know anything about that?”

“Maybe,” she had smirked back. “Buy me a drink, and maybe I’ll tell you.”

One drink became two; one night became many; and three years later, Killian finds himself the only captain in the seven seas who longs for land. 

(For Emma; for home.)

This is the way things have to be, he knows - she’s a princess, after all, and he’s a pirate, and there’s no reality he can imagine where her parents readily accept him as a suitor for her hand. Hell, they’re more likely to throw him in the dungeon, maybe hang him, maybe give him to another country who will do the same. Still, Killian can’t help but want - want to wake up by Emma’s side every morning, want to meet and come to know her brilliant son, want to be her partner in a permanent way. Want to be the kind of man who would deserve that. 

For now, though, that’s all a dream - just hopes and wishes that float away like a feather on the wind, perpetually out of grasp. This whole romance has been the stuff of fairy tales, Killian thinks sometimes, and not in the good way - rather, it’s been two lovers always separated by circumstance. Their current situation isn’t perfect, by any means, but it just might be the most they can hope for when they both are who they are. 

(The fact of the matter, Killian has long since learned, is that he’ll do anything to be with Emma, anything to make her happy.)

This port is familiar now, Killian docking here every other month now in order to spend a few days with his princess. They have a routine; he docks the Jolly and makes sure to raise a flag up the mast for Emma to see from her balcony, then meet that night in the same tavern by the docks. It’s well practiced, reliable. Most importantly, it allows them to see each other without fear of her parents finding out. He’s still a pirate, after all, even if he limits his attacks to ships of other countries, even if he loves Emma more than he ever believed possible. He’s still not a suitable beau for the woman who will one day be queen.

That’s why it shocks him to finally dock only to find Emma already pacing along the boards. He can only imagine how she knew they were coming; she must have been watching for him. That doesn’t solve the mystery of why she’s here in the first place.

The gangplank barely hits the worn wood of the docks before Emma rushes to meet him. “Oh thank the gods you’re here,” she exhales as she throws her arms around his neck. Killian clasps her to him in turn, revelling in the feeling of her body close to his even as concern courses through his veins.

“What’s wrong, darling?” He pulls back just enough to meet her eyes, resisting the urge to brush a stray hair behind her ear. It’s obvious the comfort of his embrace is more important right now.

“Something terrible has happened,” she tells him with tears starting to glisten in her eyes. “My father has been kidnapped.”

———

He can’t say he expected the day to end like this - with Emma and her mother and son all on his ship, sailing into almost certain danger. It’s not how he pictured meeting her parents, either, but he supposes that it’s better than the alternative, where he assumed he would be thrown straight into the dungeons for besmirching their beloved daughter and heir. It’s probably something to do with the fact that he’d immediately offered Emma his ship and crew to help get her father back. It doesn’t hurt either that the Queen clearly has other matters on her mind. 

Emma’s mother is a petite woman whose hair is still dark, if streaked with silver in places all the way through its neat coil at the back of her head. Killian sees a lot of Emma in her mother, actually; something about the set of their identical chins and their effortlessly graceful way of moving. The bow and arrows strapped to her back are certainly reminiscent of his and Emma’s first meeting, at least. Where Emma has proved to be all fiery determination after her little momentary breakdown at the docks, laying out a plan like a seasoned general with a spine of steel, her mother seems a little at odds - distracted, almost unable to truly focus on anything. Killian can understand that; after all, it’s the love of her life that’s missing, her true love, the man she’s spent every day with for decades. His absence must be jarring. Killian can’t even begin to imagine what he’d do if Emma were the one taken. 

(That’s probably another reason Emma’s mother doesn’t put up a big fuss about the fact that she’s been seeing a pirate in secret - she just doesn’t have the energy or the attention for it.)

Emma’s lad, on the other hand, seems blissfully oblivious to the circumstances at hand, gleefully running up and down the Jolly’s deck with all the energy a five-year-old can muster. Killian would say this isn’t how he anticipated meeting Henry either, but truthfully, he’d never anticipated being allowed to meet the lad. Pirates don’t exactly make for the best role models, after all, the same way that small children don’t make the best secret-keepers. As much as Killian has secretly yearned for some kind of committed family life with Emma and her boy, he’s long since resigned himself to the fact that it’s unlikely due to his past and her future. Getting to meet the boy, see him and his mother on the Jolly, feels like a dream Killian never dared entertain.

“I’m going to have a ship like this one day,” Henry tells him very seriously. 

The lad is a prince, one day heir to his mother’s throne; his words aren’t necessarily just youthful fancy, if he keeps that desire as he grows older. “I think that’s a fine idea, mate,” he smiles down. “A pretty navy clipper, maybe, or even the flagship?”

“Not a navy ship,” Henry tells him with a tone that communicates that Killian is clearly being ridiculous, even obtuse. “I’m going to have a pirate ship one day.”

“Oh. Well, that’s…”

“How do you get a pirate ship?”

Killian flounders - that’s the only word for it. He can’t exactly tell a child who seems determined to acquire a pirate ship about how he stole his, betraying king and country. Emma watches nearby, but she clearly doesn’t intend to help him out of this mess; indeed, she looks rather closer to laughter. Then again, she knows the whole story, knows exactly what he doesn’t want to explain. “They, uh… well, they… save up for a long while,” he finally finishes in the lamest fashion imaginable. What an impression he’s likely made. 

Emma finally swoops in to save him - though he rather thinks it’s too little, too late. “Did you get a chance to look below the decks, baby?” she asks Henry, brushing his hair back out of his face as she speaks. “I hear that Killian set aside a cabin, just for us.”

That bit is true; in fact, the royals have rather sent his crew’s usual bunking arrangements into upheaval. Queen Snow has been moved into the former first lieutenant’s cabin - once his own, now usually occupied by his first mate Smee and hastily scrubbed down - and Emma and Henry have been moved into one of the former officers’ cabins, those rooms’ usual occupants being assigned hammock space in the hold for the time being. Killian feels some residual guilt about not offering his own quarters for Emma or the Queen’s use, but his maps and weapons are all in there, and he’s a mite too selfish to willingly give up his own space, even if the former lieutenant within him knows that he should. But he is a pirate, after all. 

(If he has secret, unspoken hopes that maybe Emma will sneak into his cabin the same way he’s snuck into her rooms so many times, well, a man can’t be blamed for dreaming.)

“I have indeed,” Killian finally replies with a smile for the boy.

Henry gasps in response, with all the dramatics of a child his age. “Is there a hammock?”

“No, there isn’t, lad,” Killian chuckles. “But there are bunks - one each for you and your mother. I know it’s not the same, but is it an acceptable substitute?”

Henry nods decisively in response. “That’s okay too. Bunks can be fun. Pirates sleep in bunks too.”

“That they do, lad.”

(Just as he’d hoped, Emma sneaks into his cabin that night, climbing into his own narrow bunk to press herself against his side. He doesn’t dare take this any further, not when Emma’s so emotionally compromised and her mother and son sleep just a few thin walls away; it would feel wrong, anyways, when Emma’s only here because her father has been kidnapped. Besides, he’s more than content just to exist like this, holding his love within his arms.

“Thank you for this,” she whispers into the dark. “I know this is asking a lot, and you didn’t have to do this —”

“Your heart’s desire, love,” he interrupts, unwilling to hear one more unnecessary apology. “I swear, that’s all I want for you.” 

He’d do anything to make her happy, and when he knows that, this is the smallest ask.)

(His dreams that night are filled with visions of Emma in his arms every night, just like this.)

———

The situation as Emma and her mother describe it is this: the former “Evil Queen”, Snow’s stepmother Regina, had appeared in a dramatic cloud of purple smoke as the family had sat down to dinner, immobilizing everyone and snatching King David before dematerializing in the same fashion. Killian knows the story, at least to a certain extent; Regina had been banished to a far-off land nearly twenty years before after a decade of turmoil when Emma had been but a child, her magic bound by the fairies to protect them all. Regina had seized the throne after the death of Snow’s father and the young princess had been forced into hiding, the older woman swearing vengeance on the younger for the loss of a love she would never name. Even after Snow and David had regained the throne of Misthaven, driving Regina out, the sorceress had persisted, leaving the country to hover at the edge as an unseen danger for years until she was finally captured, her magic bound and her self banished to another realm. They’d foolishly assumed that would be the end of the matter.

They’d been wrong.

For Regina, as it turned out, had a long memory and a dangerous list of allies, and as soon as a corrupted fairy managed to lift the binding, she had resumed her plotting. Kidnapping the King was her revenge on Snow White, for condemning Regina’s own love so many years ago. The trade, Regina had cackled, was simple: if Snow relinquished the kingdom once again, then Regina would release David and maybe - just maybe - the Good Queen would be allowed to keep her own life in return. She’d given them ten days’ time to make the arrangements; it was obvious to all that she expected Snow to willingly sacrifice her kingdom for her true love.

The one thing Regina hadn’t anticipated, as Emma pointed out, was that the Royal Family of Misthaven - or at least the Crown Princess of Misthaven - had connections capable of getting things done through much less legal or expected means - namely, himself. And that just might include the ability to pull off a rescue mission, if they play their cards right. 

Their advantages are limited - a pouch of fairy dust capable of transporting them between realms, a vial of squid ink, a singular magic bean, and Emma’s magic (“Whatever good that will do.”). Killian’s crew can fight, with the benefit of mostly acting unpredictably, unlike the disciplined armies Regina is doubtless used to facing, but their numbers are pitifully small. If Regina has amassed a force of Black Knights again - something Killian wouldn’t put past her, if she’s regained her magic and retained her taste for ripping out hearts - then they may be horribly outnumbered. 

Still, Killian, Emma, and the Queen concoct a plan as best as they can. It’s far from perfect - Killian in particular doesn’t like that they’ve essentially got one chance to get this right - but it’s the best they’ve got. Emma’s mother is able to muster more energy and focus when she has something to direct it towards. Finally, he’s getting to see a little bit of the strong, determined woman Emma has told him about. That’s dangerous in its own way, though - after all, Emma still spends her nights in his bunk. They’ve made no secret of what they are to each other in daylight hours, either; Killian’s eyes and hands gravitate towards Emma at every opportunity, revelling in just the tamest affectionate touches, and Emma has absentmindedly kissed him - on the cheek, even the lips - when he knows they were in sight of the Queen. If they ever intended to continue keeping this under wraps, that proverbial ship has long since sailed, and Killian couldn’t be happier. Still, he doesn’t relish facing a mother that finally has the presence of mind to object. 

It was inevitable, though. He and Emma stand at the ships’ wheel that night, watching the sun set over the waves. This will be the last time they do so, possibly ever if things go poorly; now that they’ve got a plan, they’ll be using the magic bean tomorrow morning to transport themselves to the realm where they hope Regina is still holed up, moving as fast as they safely can in order to rescue King David. Killian tries to savor the simple comfort of this moment; Emma’s head rests on his shoulder, and his arm rests gently around her waist, his fingers stroking along her hipbone almost without conscious thought. Emma had abandoned her skirts for breeches just as soon as they had gotten underway, and Killian must say, this new look suits her. With her blue vest and her hair pulled back, she looks like some kind of lady knight, or a fierce pirate queen - perfect for the helpless pirate captain she holds within her thrall. 

(The breeches also afford him an excellent view of her perfectly formed arse and legs, but that’s a whole different story that he can’t admit to in public.)

“You’ll come to bed soon?” she murmurs into his neck once the sun finally slips below the waves. 

“Aye, love,” he replies with a kiss to the crown of her hair, just where the golden strands are trying to pull loose from their leather strap. Emma likes to try and run her hand through her hair when she’s stressed, and there’s certainly been plenty of that lately. 

As one lady walks away, however, Emma retreating below decks to his cabin, another one approaches - her mother. Maybe he won’t be coming to bed so soon after all. 

“Your Majesty,” he acknowledges with a deferential nod of his head. It’s been a while, but Killian does still remember the little courtesy gestures, and is willing to use them to deflect whatever is about to befall him. 

“Captain.” Snow White joins him beside the ship’s wheels with a grace that even Emma can’t imitate, the illusion that she perfectly belongs in any situation. He envies her that. 

“What can I do for you, ma’am?”

“It’s less about what you can do, and more about what you’ve already done,” she tells him with a wry smile that almost looks out of place on her face.

This conversation, then. Killian lets his head bob downwards again, this time in resignation. “Ah.”

“Yes. Ah.” The silence sits heavy between them, both waiting for the other to speak. Surprisingly, it’s the Queen who caves first - though that’s likely only because Killian finds himself too nervous to speak. Not a position he ever expected to find himself in again as a pirate captain. “So how long have you and my daughter been…” The Queen trails off, clearly at a loss for the appropriate words. Their secret assignations certainly don’t qualify as courting, but they certainly go beyond friendship or fucking. He can’t imagine this woman saying the latter word in any case.

He ultimately takes pity on the queen. “Been me and your daughter?”

“Yes.”

“About three years.” Even if this conversation scares him half to death, Killian still can’t help but smile at the words. That’s the first time he’s had cause to say such a thing; it feels lovely, in a way, each one of those three words imbued with countless memories.

“Three years…” the Queen echoes on a murmur. It’s impossible to miss the guilt and mild melancholy in her tone. “I had no idea. Why wouldn’t she tell me?”

Killian glances around his ship in confusion. They’ve made no secret of the fact that he’s a pirate; it should be pretty obvious why he and Emma had kept their relationship a secret. “I’m not exactly a proper suitor, so to speak,” he tells her. “At first, we didn’t know where this was going, or if it’d be more than a fleeting thing, but then once it became more serious… we hadn’t figured out how to broach it.” Without me being thrown into the dungeon and executed, he doesn’t add, but that should be obvious.

“And now?”

“Pardon?” The question feels like it comes out of nowhere, leaving Killian unprepared to answer.

“We’re here talking,” the Queen points out. “I’m all too aware that my daughter spends her nights in your cabin instead of her own. What’s changed, that you’re willing to be open about your relationship after three years of hiding?”

“Some things are more important,” he explains. “The life of your husband - Emma’s father - is more important. Supporting Emma when the rest of the world is falling down around her ears is more important. I hope that after all this, you won’t order my head on a pike,” Killian concedes, “but Emma needs me right now. That’s more important than… anything else.”

“You love her.” It’s not a question, or a realization - just a statement of fact, of the one truth that’s settled deep into Killian’s bones. 

“I do. More than anything else in this realm, or any other.”

“Good.” After years of worry, the simple word is shocking to hear. This whole episode has cast things in a different light, though. “That’s all we’ve ever wanted for her, you know. Someone to love her the way she deserves. Do you think you can be that someone?”

“I hope so. I want to be. Emma is… more than I’ll ever deserve. I just want to make her happy, in whatever way I can.”

“Good. Make sure you do.” And then, wonder of all wonders, Her Majesty actually smiles at him, a soft and maternal thing he never expected to see directed at him. “I think you ought to call me Snow, once all this is over.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

“Get some rest, Captain,” she tells him - a clear dismissal, her tone imbued with something regal he doesn’t dare question. “We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

(“What took you so long?” Emma mumbles as he crawls into the bunk behind her, already half asleep.

“Just a little chat with your mother,” he tells her before pressing a kiss to her shoulder where her shift is just starting to slip down. “Nothing to worry about.”

Emma hums in response - about all the response he expected from her in this state. “Love you.”

“I love you too, darling. Sleep well.”)

———

Morning inevitably dawns, bright and clear, perfect for their purposes. Maybe that’s why the dread in Killian’s stomach only deepens.

Traveling by portal is a dangerous business; Killian only had occasion to experience it a handful of times, back when he was still back in Glowerhaven’s navy, but he enjoyed exactly none of it. There’s something particularly unsettling about purposefully steering your vessel into a swirling void into the sea, whipped around in every direction before being spat back out again in another land, another realm. Time is of the essence here, though, and they don’t know exactly where Emma’s father is being kept. Travelling by portal is the fastest, best way to rescue him - unsettling as the journey may be. 

He tries to enjoy these little moments while he can, watching Emma still in his bunk as he slips on a linen shirt and laces his pants up. His love is less delicate in sleep, those porcelain limbs sprawled across every inch of his mattress like she has a right to it all with her hair all in tangles. She’s just as lovely like this, in some kind of everyday, domestic way - unpolished, unpracticed. No trace of the princess here - just the amazing woman she is. They’re all about to dash into danger within the next hour or two, but this is worth remembering in the moment, a little vision to remember later when the going gets rough. 

On the bed, Emma peels an eye open as Killian shrugs his leather vest back on. “That time already?” she mumbles in a voice still muddled with sleep.

“Aye, love, time to turn the plan into action.” He leans down to press a kiss to her forehead practically without thought, the most comforting kind of instinct. Emma hums, whether in appreciation or acknowledgement or expression of her own half asleep state. “Sleep a few minutes longer. I’m just going to check everything over again.”

“Okay,” she mumbles, though it’s obvious she doesn’t need to be told twice. Killian can see the muscles of her face relax as she falls back into a doze. 

(Maybe, after all this is over, he’ll be treated to a lifetime of moments like this. That’s his dream, after all - and maybe, just maybe, helping rescue a captured King will earn him something close to redemption.)

With a last look at the lovely tableau Emma makes, Killian turns towards his safe. With a few flicks of his wrist, the lockbox opens, allowing him to pluck the little bag containing the single magic bean from within. No use beating around the bush, now. 

When Killian ascends the ladder to the deck, he’s surprised to find the Queen - Snow already waiting on the sun-bleached planks. 

“Couldn’t sleep, milady?” he calls gently as he gets closer, causing Snow to spin around to face him. 

“Anxious,” she explains. “I caught a few hours, not to worry. But I’m ready to go find Charming.”

The nickname strikes a particular chord in his heart; as much as Killian may have heard about it from Emma, heard the whole story of her parents’ famous romance a million times over as a favorite local legend, it’s something else to hear it from Snow’s lips. It’s never been just a fanciful tale, even if that’s the way he’s always heard it told; it’s their life, for better or worse. “We’ll get him back, ma’am,” Killian assures her - a promise he can’t actually make, not that it’s stopped him. 

She knows it, too, if that particular smile is anything to go off of - a little sad, a little knowing, a little pitying. “I hope so, Captain. Now, is there anything I can do before we travel?”

“You can check that everything is secured in your cabin and Henry’s,” Killian offers. It’s obvious that Snow needs something to do in this in-between time; he’s seen that already. He’s more than happy to pawn off one of his own checks to Emma’s mother. “You can check the hold too, for that matter, make sure everything’s tied down and stowed away.”

It’s crucial that everything be secured before they open the portal; in Kililan’s experience, realm travel tends to jostle things around. He’s just finishing his own checks up on deck, directing the crew and securing various lines and sails, when Emma makes her appearance at his side. 

“You should be below decks with the lad, love,” he tells her gently. “It might be a rough ride.”

“I know,” she shrugs. “But maybe I want to be up here with you. Mom can more than handle Henry. Is that so wrong?”

“Not in the least, darling,” he smiles back. “But can you blame a man for wanting to make sure his lady love is safe?”

“Not when you phrase it like that.” He even gets a little laugh out of her; that’s good, at least. “But I want to be here, you know. With you. It’s… into the great unknown, right?” Killian nods. “Then I want to do that with you.”

He’s always been a sucker for that kind of sentiment.

That’s how Emma ends up the one to toss the magic bean into the calm sea an hour later, her mother and son and as much crew as they can spare stashed below decks to protect them all. As the waters open to a swirling vortex, Killian wraps his arm securely around her waist, the other on the ship’s wheel to steer them straight into danger. Ropes are tied around both their waists for an extra level of security - something Killian had insisted on - but Emma’s face is curiously unafraid. 

(That’s the faith she has in you, a little voice in his head whispers. Gods, he hopes what they’re about to do doesn’t betray that.)

“Hold tight to me, love,” he murmurs, before turning his attention back to the few crew members left on deck. “Buckle down, lads,” he yells, just as the bow of the Jolly catches the swirling waters of the portal. “It’s rough seas ahead!”

Rough seas is rather an understatement. Once the ship fully enters the expanding mouth of the portal, control is wrenched from his hands, the waters spiralling them down and down and down. There’s no telling which way is up and which way is down, magic ruling over physics, with water seemingly all around them but never swallowing them. The wheel of the Jolly spins wild, forcing Killian to let go before the rudder snaps and cripples the vessel. He’s left with nothing else to do but clutch Emma close with both his arms, curl his body around hers, shut his eyes and try to block out the roar all around them and hope and hope and hope —

— and just as suddenly as this all commenced, the world rights itself again, the hull of the Jolly gliding through calm seas under a pink-tinted sky. They’re just offshore of their destination, where Killian can barely make out fantastically twisting trees and grotesque shrubberies and enormous mushrooms. Wonderland - a realm steeped in magic itself, where Regina’s mother had once seized power and she must have now have done the same. Arguably, one of the worst places they could face her. There’s no other option, however - not when King David’s life is on the line.

“We’re not doing that again, are we?” Emma mumbles against his neck, barely peeking out to see this realm they’ve found themselves in. “Because let me tell you, I’ve had smoother rides.”

With a final squeeze and a chuckle, Killian unwraps his arms from around her body where they’d been sheltering Emma from the worst of the journey. “Aye, I can promise that, love. Only one bean. We’ll have to resort to more mundane methods on our way back.”

“Good.” Emma brushes down her vest, as if any bit of it would dare be out of place. “Now, let’s go catch ourselves a witch.”

Most preparations had been made last night, anticipating the need for immediate action today. Basic supplies have been packed, blades sharpened, and the Queen’s arrows neatly aligned in their quiver with their tips dipped in squid ink. All Snow has to do is graze Regina with an arrow and it’s over; she’ll be frozen, absolutely immobile. The hardest thing left to do, now that the hour is nigh, is explain to little Henry why he can’t come with them. Emma had insisted; Queen Snow had insisted; Killian had concurred; there’s quite a difference between taking him this far for his own safety when there’s an evil witch on the loose, and taking him right into the heart of danger.

“But I want to come with you!” Henry whines with tears glistening at the corners of his eyes. “I don’t want to stay behind!”

“Henry, it’s for your own good.” Killian can tell Emma is trying to explain this as best as she can to her son, but her voice has started to betray a hint of begging. “We’ll be back before you know it. We just have to go save Grampa.”

“You don’t know that though!” Henry wails. “Something could happen and I don’t want to be by myself and—” Emma gathers the little boy into her arms as he dissolves into tears, the display cutting right into Killian’s heart.

Once Henry’s tears start to abate a few minutes later, Killian strokes a bit of his hair back to catch the lad’s attention. “You’re right,” he tells Henry. “This is really scary for your mother and I too. But I promise - I promise - that I’m going to do everything in my power to protect your mum, alright? I’ll make sure that she comes back to you. And in the meantime, Mr. Smee is going to be here to look after you. You won’t be alone.”

“You promise?”

“Cross my heart,” Killian swears solemnly. “I’ll have your mum and your grandpa and your grandma back to you before you know it.”

He would have made sure, anyways - Emma is the most important thing in his life, and he’d do anything to keep her and her family safe - but his promise to Henry only strengthens that. He’ll lay down his life, if he has to, if only to keep that promise to the little lad. After all, he knows all too well the pain of losing his family. 

When they finally set out for the shore in rowboats, Henry bravely waves them off from the railing of the Jolly, though Killian can see tears glistening at the corners of the boy’s eyes. For that matter, Emma’s eyes are moist too. 

“We’ll be back before you know it, love,” he assures her, squeezing her hand in reassurance. “I promise.”

“I know.” Emma’s smile may be watery, but it’s there. “I trust you to make that happen.”

(And imagine that - a princess trusting an old pirate like him.)

Killian expects they’ll be dodging obstacles from Regina the whole time as they cautiously pick their way towards the ostentatious palace they spot from the beach; after all, it’s well known that Regina’s mother, in her time ruling Wonderland, had amassed an enormous army from those whose hearts she’d ripped out and held captive in her vaults. Her daughter doubtlessly controls the same. However, they meet no one more than Wonderland’s absurd wildlife - a fact that somehow feels even more concerning, under the circumstances. It likely means that Regina knows they’re coming, and has already centralized her forces to create a stronghold of that pretty palace estate. And that means they’re walking right into a death trap, fully aware of that very fact.

They’re all a bit jittery at this turn of events; Killian can tell that his crew is on edge, and he can’t keep his own fingers from drumming impatiently on the hilt of his sword, anxious for some kind of action, expecting danger around every corner all while knowing that the true danger is still ahead of them. Emma works out her own impatience by practicing her magic, blasting the enormous insects indigenous to this realm in some kind of bizarre target practice. It’s as good an outlet as any, and she’ll need every ounce of practice to take on the Evil Queen. Even after twenty years of having her magic suppressed, Killian knows Regina will be a formidable foe; she’d terrorized Misthaven for years under her tyranny and dark magic, and he somehow doubts 20 years wiped those skills from her memory. 

“Bravo,” Killian tells Emma with a smile and a little nudge after she blasts a particularly large rendition of a hornet. To their left, a hookah-smoking caterpillar nods approvingly from an enormous mushroom at the side of this forgotten, multi-colored cobblestone path. Truly, this land seems crafted straight out of a fever dream. 

“Thanks.” Emma twines her arm through his own, grounding them both in the process. It’s a lot harder to fidget with his love on his arm, and a great comfort at that. “I kind of need all the practice I can get.”

“It can’t hurt,” Killian agrees mildly. “Though I must say, darling, I’m certainly impressed.”

Emma’s sigh sounds like it carries the weight of all their worries; Killian isn’t entirely sure she isn’t trying to do exactly that. “Is it enough, though? Sure, you’re impressed, but… this is Regina. An ultra-powerful sorceress. And here I am, just taking pot-shots at bugs.”

“Big bugs.”

“Bugs,” she repeats with disgust. “All I’m saying is… is that enough? When it comes down to it, can we really go toe-to-toe with the Evil Queen?”

“Hey,” Killian draws them up short, grasping Emma by both arms to face him. “I have to believe we can, that you can. I believe that this is going to work. And you know why?” Emma just stares at him with wide eyes. “Because I believe in you, love. I think you can do anything you want to. And we’ll be here to back you up, to help you, every step of the way.”

“You really believe that?”

“I really do.” Gently, with the greatest comfort and reassurance he can muster, Killian presses a brief kiss to her lips. “Now, let’s go catch an Evil Queen, love. Together, you and I.”

As is the way of such things, just when Killian begins to relax into the comfort of Emma’s arm entwined through his own, their party reaches the outskirts of the Queen’s estate. The palace is an ornate affair, in marble and gilt with elaborate gardens and hedge mazes. It’s more than just a building or a dwelling - it’s a centerpiece, an architectural representation of Cora, and now Regina’s power. It’s perfect and picturesque and somehow all the more intimidating and imposing for it. 

Killian does his best to nod reassuringly when Emma turns to meet his eyes, standing here at the gilded gates and about to walk into the heart of danger. It must work, thankfully; Emma smiles in response before turning to face her mother instead. 

“You ready for this?” Emma asks, drawing her sword. 

Snow takes a deep, steadying breath, but eventually nods, simultaneously reaching for an arrow from her quiver. “I’m ready. Let’s go save your father.”

They don’t have to search hard to find Regina; it seems like now that she’s lured them into her web, the Evil Queen is ready to set the proverbial ball rolling. As they approach the enormous iron-wrought doors to the palace proper, they swing open without any obvious human intervention to reveal a grand entrance hall paved in black and white marble tiles. Killian directs a weighted look and nod to his crew to be on their guard. Most of his men have long since unsheathed their swords and knives, but those few who haven’t take out their weapons now. Emma and her mother wear identical hard, determined looks on their face as their party creeps down the hall. What feels like an eternity later, another set of doors swings open at their approach, all to reveal the Evil Queen herself, perched on a gilded throne upon a dais with apparently every bit of drama she could muster. 

“I was wondering when you’d bother to show up,” she comments with a devious little smirk. “I guess heroes just aren’t what they used to be.”

“Regina.” Snow practically growls the word - a tone of voice Killian hadn’t been aware the famously mild-mannered queen was capable of. 

“I suppose you lot are rather out of practice, though,” Regina continues as if her rival never spoke, languidly pushing herself up out of the throne to slither and stalk in their direction. She looks good for a woman doubtless approaching sixty, regal with her straight back and raised chin and silver liberally streaked through her dark hair. Killian wonders how much of the display is natural, and how much is thanks to magic. “There never was anyone else who posed anything resembling a real threat.”

“Weird thing to brag about,” Emma comments dryly, catching Regina’s attention. In a dramatic swish of skirts, their foe turns to face her with a feral smile stretching slowly across her face. 

“I don’t expect you to understand power, Princess, and how far it can take you,” she replies - smoothly, dangerously - “but I do expect you to recognize it when it stands in front of you. Even your naive parents aren’t that foolish.”

“Enough of the fronting,” Killian cuts in. “Where’s the king?”

“And they brought a little eye candy, too,” Regina smirks. “I’ll admit, I didn’t expect that. Goody-two-shoes Snow White and her precious, perfect daughter consorting with pirates.”

“Well, desperate times call for unusual measures,” Killian replies with a casual wave of his hand. “Never let it be said I’m not willing to help a lovely lady or a worthy cause.”

“Is that all it is?” Regina’s head cocks in a way that makes Killian think she’s analyzing the situation, trying to pick up on any weaknesses. “Because I must say, Captain —”

“Stop stalling!” Snow barks out. “Where is Charming? What have you done with him?”

“Interrupting - tsk tsk, such impropriety. Whatever would your dearly departed father say?” Snow flushes red with rage - obviously exactly what Regina hoped for, if that smirk is anything to go off of. “If you must know, your precious prince is a little… shall we say, indisposed for the moment.”

“If you’ve hurt him —”

“Now what fun would that be?” Regina laughs. “No, I’ve arranged something much more entertaining - I’ve cursed him.” 

And with a dramatic wave of her hand, the Evil Queen reveals her handiwork. Before them suddenly stands an enormous mirror - and just behind the glass, Emma’s father, pounding frantically at the surface. 

Emma jolts beside him, clearly pulled towards her father. It’s undoubtedly exactly what Regina wants - perhaps their strongest weapon, distracted and out of commission. “Steady on, love,” Killian murmurs, just loud enough for Emma to hear. “Don’t give in to her, that’s what she wants.”

Emma nods imperceptibly, her sword arm strengthening as her other hand starts to twist and turn by her side - summoning her magic from deep within, he knows. “Let him go,” she commands.

The Evil Queen just laughs in response. “No, I don’t think I will. What are you going to do about it, princess?” As she speaks, Regina summons her own powers, lighting a ball of flame in her hand, primed and ready to attack. Simultaneously, the doors on each wall of the throne room open for a crush of Black Knights to pour through, surrounding their own party.

They’re outnumbered - but they’ve got the benefit of passion, of rage, of the willingness to do anything. And Killian has always liked those particular odds.

It seems Emma is much of the same mind as she throws herself into action, lunging at Regina with her sword arm while the other crackles with magic. A good thing, too - Regina easily bats the sword out of her way with a quick flick of her wrist and hurls her fireball for Emma to bat away in turn. There’s a savage beauty to their dueling, both women lobbing magical weapons at one another with deadly intent. If it was just the two of them, Killian might take another minute to marvel; unfortunately, there is still a force of Black Knights and red-festooned guards to deal with. Emma is the only one who can fight on equal footing with Regina; it’s up to Killian, Snow, and his crew to keep the rest of the combatants away from Emma for long enough for her to defeat the Evil Queen.

Killian falls into a dance of his own, aiming to knock the Knights out where he can instead of killing them outright; it’s well known that Regina, and her mother before her, is an expert at controlling people, ripping out their hearts and whispering commands like a demonic puppetmaster. It’s not always possible, though, and Emma’s safety is more important than anything when she has to channel all her focus into battling Regina; his blade has tasted blood several times over, now, more than he wants to think about. The dance of combat is complicated by curses flying all over the place, doubtless intended for Emma or their little party even if they occasionally strike one of Regina’s own forces.

It finally seems like they’re starting to have things in hand. For all their numbers, the Black Knights and Red Guards are poorly trained, a collection of poor souls used to doing Regina’s bidding by intimidation and by superior numbers. Snow, instead, is a deadly aim - presumably from her outlaw days - and Killian and his crew are used to fighting for their dinner and their salary and their lives, playing dirty if they need to in order to get the upper hand. King David doesn’t look particularly pleased with the way Killian keeps using the mirror as a shield or an obstacle or a hard surface to knock heads against, but that’s his problem; Killian is doing his best to save his holier-than-thou arse, after all. Foes still remain, but it feels like a manageable low tide now instead of breaking wave after breaking wave.

And maybe that’s what hurts them. Maybe, Killian lets his guard down more than he should have, surveying the room after dispatching another Red Guard. He doesn’t see Regina cast the curse, doesn’t see it head directly at him, doesn’t know what’s happening at all until he hears Emma shout. Killian whirls around, but it’s too late - only just in time to see Regina’s curse hit her squarely in the chest.

“Emma!” he yells, dashing to catch his love as she crumples towards the ground. Somewhere, he hears Regina cackle in triumph, but he can’t worry about that now, not when Emma —

But he doesn’t need to worry about it, as Snow takes advantage of Regina’s distraction to let loose an arrow, deadly and true, to pierce her long-time enemy’s heart.

Somewhere, Killian hears the clatter of metal as the Queen’s soldiers are released from her power. Somewhere, he hears glass shatter as David is finally freed from the mirror. Those things don’t matter, though, when Emma lies in his arms, eyes closed, pulse barely detectable.

“C’mon, love, open those pretty eyes,” he murmurs, but to no avail. His words fall only on deaf ears. He can feel her parents on either side, reaching for Emma, and he should give her to them. Snow strokes along her hair and face, trying to rouse her daughter, and David just behind at his wife’s shoulder, anxiously peering down with tears starting to glisten in his eyes. Killian should let go of Emma, give her to her parents. A less selfish man might. But he can’t, not when he’s only just started to dream of a happy ending, only to see it - her fall in front of him. 

And it’s a long shot. There’s no promises here, but Emma is his joy, is every dream he never dared to dream, and it’s worth a shot, isn’t it? After growing up hearing about true love, maybe they share that too.

(If nothing else, it’s less heartbreaking to think of this as an attempt at true love’s kiss than as a kiss goodbye.)

“Come back to me, Emma,” he whispers, leaning down as he does so to press his lips to hers in a gentle, lingering kiss.

There’s a split second where nothing happens, where Killian is sure it didn’t work. But then what feels like a wave of energy bursts from where their lips are joined, spreading through the room and causing even her parents to gasp.

Emma’s eyes flutter open slowly, but she smiles to see Killian still bending over her. “Did we win?” she mumbles, a tired sort of slur to her words.

Killian can’t help but laugh, even as happy and relieved tears start to gather at the corner of his eyes; it’s so like his Emma, so fierce, so determined. “Aye, love, we did. You did. Regina’s dead, and your father’s right here.”

Emma cranes her head with a wince to meet her father’s gaze. “I’m ok, sweetheart,” he assures her. “I’m proud of you.”

She nods tiredly before turning her attention back to Killian. “Can we go home now?”

“Anything you want, darling,” he chuckles. “Anything you want.”

——— 

Henry, as expected, is thrilled when they return with his grandfather now amongst their number. “I knew they’d save you,” he grins, arms wrapped tightly around David’s waist. “That’s what heroes do.”

“Hey now, lad, I’m a pirate, not some hero,” Killian can’t help but cut in with a smile and a teasing note in his voice.

“I don’t know, I think you could be both,” Emma adds with a smug little smile. As if it’s thanks to her that he’s anything resembling a hero.

(That might be a little true, actually. After all, she’s the reason he’s wanted to try.)

“Yeah!” Henry agrees readily. “You helped bring Gramps back! And you made sure Mom was safe, just like you promised!”

“Well, I couldn’t disappoint my best mate, could I? A promise is a promise.”

“I see you’ve swayed my grandson, too,” David interjects drolly. Killian isn’t sure the man will ever fully be a fan of his - Killian supposes he’d be the same way with a daughter of his own - but they’re mostly civil, at least. It’s more than he could have expected a week ago, at least. 

“More like he swayed me.”

“I like Killian,” Henry proclaims, and, well, that’s that.

(“Killian says if I save up a lot, I can have my own pirate ship,” Killian hears Henry tell Charming later. “Do you know how much I have to save?”

Killian will probably be paying for that in other ways later.)

Suspicious fathers aside, the return trip is much less eventful. Applying fairy dust to his sails so they can fly between realms may make for a slower journey, but a calmer one; the necessary rush of their original travel to find David is no longer in play, anyways, and they can spare the time. It’s a good time for Emma’s family to get used to his presence in her life under more normal circumstances. There’s no putting the cat that is their relationship back in the metaphorical bag after this, not that Killian would ever want to. He’s loved Emma for a long, long time, and he’s just glad to finally now admit it in public.

By the time they dock back in Misthaven’s port, there’s something of an understanding. Snow openly likes him, as does Henry, and even David has reached a grudging acceptance after much discussion with his wife and daughter. It probably doesn’t hurt that Killian played an instrumental role in his rescue. There’s still the matter of public perception, however. There’s no hiding the fact that he was - is? - a pirate. What will the populace think of their beloved princess consorting with someone like him? How are they supposed to prove that he’s one of their fold, now, no longer a threat in the eyes of the royal family?

The answer, as it turns out, is a grand ball. It’s the Misthaven way, after all. 

Killian can’t say that it’s his idea of a good time by any stretch of the imagination - a little too stifling for his taste - but there’s no real way to weasel out of it, not when he’s the guest of honor. Especially not when it means that the Queen and King see in him a man of honor, maybe even a man worthy of their daughter. He’d be a fool to spit in the face of such gestures. 

Still, he doesn’t have to be entirely thrilled about it. There’s far too many diplomats to play nice with and not nearly enough time with Emma and the collar of his coat itches, dammit. The quilted bronze fabric is certainly striking, drawing more than his fair share of appreciative looks, but the folded black collar whacks at the bottom of his chin with every move, driving him mad. If these soirees are going to become a regular thing in his life - and by all appearances, they will be - he’ll have to speak with the palace seamstresses about making something less prominent.

(What an idea, that is - getting the chance to be around openly enough and long enough to need to speak with palace staff about his preferences.)

Emma, on the other hand, looks absolutely stunning. Beautiful. Ravishing. A whole host of other descriptors that never fully encompass the way she looks tonight, never quite do her justice. Her dress is red, with long sleeves and a full skirt and beading along her scooped neckline that highlights the peeking swells of her lovely breasts, all topped with a floral tiara. It’s by far the most traditionally princess-y that Killian has ever seen her look; it feels like his heart skips several beats as she makes her way into the crowded ballroom, skirt swishing about her just a split second after every move she makes. 

(He may be the guest of honor, but she’s the star of this particular show, every eye drawn towards her grace and beauty like moths to a flame. Truthfully, he can’t blame them one bit.)

As much as Killian has enjoyed watching his princess in her element - something he never thought he’d be fortunate enough to see - he’s been sadly limited to only looking, not touching. Emma is a dance partner in much demand, between visiting royalty and Misthaven’s own nobility and what he’s been told are friends of her parents and their children, and somehow, Killian can never find a moment to steal her away into his arms and make it obvious to anyone that Emma is his partner, and his alone.

(This is all part and parcel of being the future monarch, he knows, but Killian has always been a selfish bastard at heart, a pirate not skilled at sharing with others. Besides, they’ve only just been allowed to show their love openly; he can’t help but want to revel in that for all to see.)

He puts on as good a show as he can, smiling at the countless faces he’s introduced to and gritting his teeth against all the little snide, uppity comments he gets to hear in return. He dances, too - with Snow’s old friend Ruby and with Emma’s friend, the Queen of Arendelle (who is kind enough not to mention the piracy he’s doubtless committed against their ships in the past years) and even, eventually, with Queen Snow herself, twirling each across the marble floors in moves his body remembers from his Naval Academy days much better than his brain does. 

“How are you holding up, Captain?” Emma’s mother asks once he pulls her back in from a particularly dramatic turn. Killian chooses to hum instead of answering, making the Queen laugh. “That well, huh?”

“Ask me tomorrow,” Killian suggests. “Distance may make the memory fonder.”

“I strongly doubt that, but I’ll be sure to ask.”

Inevitably, Killian’s eye drifts back to Emma again, where she now dances with her father. He means no offense to his current partner, and he surely hopes Snow doesn’t take it as a slight; he just can’t help but seek for his love’s face and smile and self no matter what else is going on around him. 

“You haven’t had much chance to be in each other’s company tonight, have you?” Snow comments wisely, drawing Killian’s attention back to his partner with a guilty little start that makes her chuckle again. “No, it’s quite alright,” she assures him. “I do remember young love, you know.”

“I’d never think to suggest otherwise,” he winks back. They’ve reached some kind of understanding, him and the queen; the kind of adventure they’ve shared will do that, he supposes. 

“Wise man.” Once again, Killian turns the Queen beneath his arm. When she comes back to their proper waltz position, there’s an extra little twinkle in her eye. “Now, I know you’ll be terribly sorry to see me go,” she tells him, voice bubbling with mirth, “but I have the sudden desire to dance with my husband. If we switch partners, do you think you could possibly bear the terrible burden of dancing with my daughter?”

“I think I’ll manage somehow.”

Emma breaks into a smile as they approach, her entire visage brightening with the gesture and somehow rendering her even more stunning. At his side, the Queen is saying something doubtlessly witty or romantic to her own husband to orchestrate this partner switch; truthfully, Killian doesn’t hear a word. Watching Emma is a delightful tunnel vision, only heightened as her delicate hand brushes against his arm. 

“I was wondering where you had gotten to,” she teases with a smile. “Having fun yet?”

“More with you here.” It’s all the truth he’s willing to admit to in this crush of other people; doubtless, Emma knows what he means anyways.

Sure enough: “I’ve got a feeling that wouldn’t take much.” Though she shakes her head, the smile still lingers on her lips. Killian knows this isn’t her idea of a good time, either, but she’s much more practiced in hiding it than he is. 

(That’s a thing he’ll have to learn over time, he supposes; after all, where Emma is concerned, he’s in this for the long haul. Horrible state functions and all.)

“Guilty as charged,” he smiles back. “What do you say, love? Care to take a turn about the floor with this old pirate?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

“That’s not for lack of wanting, you know,” Killian assures her as they sort themselves into a proper waltz position and begin to move. “I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you all night. This is… stunning, love. Gods above, you look like a vision.”

Emma preens a bit at the compliment, a smug little smile and shake of her shoulders. “You don’t look so bad yourself, Captain,” she replies, nodding towards his jacket. “I might even say you clean up well.”

“I couldn’t exactly show up in my duster, you know. What a look that’d be. The entire idea has been not to look too much of an embarrassment, especially as an already… shall we say, unconventional suitor for the princess.”

“You never could, but I appreciate the thought.” The smile slides off her face then, only to be replaced by a hint of anxiety. “I didn’t want to leave you alone tonight, Killian - I really didn’t, I promise. I just… there’s so many people here and I had to greet everyone, and then there were so many people I needed to pay a little extra attention to, pay my respects or whatever, and —”

“Don’t worry about it, love,” Killian cuts her off, accentuating the sentiment with a little squeeze of her hand. “I know these are things you have to do as the princess. It’s quite alright.”

“I never want you to think I’m abandoning you for some duty.” Killian wonders, briefly, if that’s something she’s experienced or been accused of before; in that moment, Killian swears never to make her feel that way again if he can help it. 

“I promise, darling, I won’t. This is who you are, who you’re meant to be; I’ll just be privileged to watch you work.” If it weren’t for the crowded room, filled with people and expectations of how to behave, he’d kiss her right here. After all the scandal they’ve already made, though - the princess and the pirate, quite the pairing by anyone’s standards - he refrains, contenting himself for the moment just to hold his princess in his arms for this dance. That doesn’t mean he can’t do a little bit of plotting, though. “That being said…” 

“Yes?”

“What do you say we sneak out of here early, darling?” Killian murmurs in Emma’s ear. His love has an excellent poker face; even as he whispers indecorous ideas in her ear, her face betrays only the slightest hint of a smile, visible only because Killian was watching for it.

“We’ll have to be sneaky about it,” she replies. “My father will never let you stay the night in my chambers.”

“Hmm. Well, you know, I was just thinking…”

“Yes?”

“What do you think about the ivy, for old times’ sake?”

The smile blooms over Emma’s face slowly, slowly enough for Killian to read every ounce of mischief and lascivious promise contained within, before she finally leans forward to whisper back in his own ear.  

“I’ll bring the rum.”

Not your typical princess at all - but she’s his princess, and Killian finds that that makes all the difference. 

[cinlat]

30 Questions Tag Game

Tagged by: @outcastcommander @chaosandwonder and @sleepswithvillains (Woot!)

Rules: Answer 30 questions and tag blogs you are contractually obligated to know better.

Name/Nickname: Cinlat

Gender: Female

Star sign: Sagittarius most of my life, but I’ve recently been informed that it’s changed to....whatever that new one is. 

Height: 5′ 2 3/4”

Birthday: December Baby

Time: 8:34 am right now. Buy the time this queues, who knows?

Favorite bands: Disturbed, hands down. haha. I got to go to one of their concerts a couple of years ago and it was amazing.

Favorite solo artists: I know literally nothing about musicians, but Halsey has captured by attention recently. 

Song stuck in my head: The stupid, friggin outro for Dragon Ball Z *shudders*

Last movie: I watched Finding Ohana on Netflix with the kids. It was so good. It brought back all the fun, kid adventures from 90′s movies

Last show: The husband and I binge watched Cobra Kai over the weekend while the kids were off at a friends. 

When did I create this blog: 2018, I think? 

What do I post: Mostly swtor stuff, but there’s some Naruto, FF14, and GW2 scattered within. Not to mention, random things that make me chuckle.

What do I refuse to post: Political crap. This is my safe haven. I can get all that shit elsewhere. I come to Tumblr to relax, so that’s what I plan to post. 

Last thing I googled: A STEMM Academy that my youngest was invited to join (that I didn’t even know existed)

Other blogs: Just an account on Ao3, FFN, and a KoFi. Those probably aren’t blogs though.

Do I get asks: I definitely love asks. I’m a little slow resolving them sometimes, but, I save every one so that I can work on it when time allows.

Why I chose my url: Cinlat was a character from an original world that I created in middle school. She was the little sister of my antagonist, but her name is unique enough to never need numbers added...and I really hate adding numbers to my name.

Following: 304, though I’ve been steadily weeding out dead blogs and people that no longer post the stuff that I’m interested in seeing. Ah, and hate speech. Any sort of hate speech against any religion, race, income level....etc. will get a hard pass from me. For reasons above. I’m here to relax. If I want angry rantings, I’ll talk to my family. lol.

Followers: Ohhh, 436. That’s cool. *waves at everyone*

Average hours of sleep: I have no clue. I’m a light sleeper so I wake often. My Fitbit always yelled at me about it, but then it died and now I can carry on in blissful ignorance.

Lucky number: 8

Instruments: I played the trumpet when I was young. After a year of lessons, I tearfully approached my mom to tell her that I didn’t want to continue and to apologize for wasting their money. Her response? “Thank God.” I don’t think I was very good. XD

What am I wearing: Wicked Win Run t-shirt (best 5K ever, highly suggest) and comfy pants full of holes and bleach stains. In my defense, I’m about to scrub my bathroom, so legit cleaning clothes.

Dream job: I’d like to own my own kennel one day. One of the fancy ones on a few acres of land where the dogs have room for proper exercise. 

Dream trip: I want to go everywhere, but if I had to choose only one place, I want to go back to Kenya.

Favorite food: Carbs. 

Nationality: American (Although I did one of those heritage kits. The results were....boring. I’m 98% English. Like, wtf, how am I the most bland white person in America? The rest is Scottish and like 1.1% sub-Saharan thrown in there for randomness sake.)

Favorite song: Ummm, basically anything from Fynta’s Playlist. There really are too many to label. 

Last book read: I’m reading three, atm. I finished Shaw from the Hell Squad series last night. It’s a sci fi romance by Anna Hackett, honestly not bad writing as far as romance novels go, and plenty of explosions. I approve.

Then I’m about halfway through the Sci Fi series of the Bobiverse, Books 4 Heaven’s River by Dennis E. Taylor. Amazing story telling, highly recommend.

Then there is also what I like to call the “Epic Gay Fantasy” series of A Land Fit for Heroes by Morgan Richard. I’m on the final book, The Dark Defiles. Morgan’s writing is gritty and beautiful all at once. I’m super jealous. haha. 

Then bits of fanfiction on top of that.

Top three fictional universes I’d like to live in:

Star Wars, hands down.  

Bobiverse (I’d totally be down to cruise the galaxy for eternity as a VR program)

The Seven Satrapies from the Lightbringer, anywhere really, they all sounded beautiful.

No pressure tags: @kunoichi-ume @dimigex @storyknitter​