#Just the image of Dream putting the ruby around his neck and tucking it into his jerkin is DESTROYING ME | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

heliosthegriffin · 4 years ago

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He’s channeling his energy productively.

Jaune walked down the halls of Beacon backed to his dorm, it had been a long day so far, not a hard day though, just one of those days that kept going and seemed like they wouldn’t end. Making it back to his room would at least let him spend the rest of day how’d like.

The sounds of laughter followed a group of older girls walked pasted him. It was outside of class time so the students could wear whatever they wanted. They wore clothes that were made to go clubbing.

Jaune’s eyes had a life of their own as they stared at the girls walking past, you’d think having seven sisters would make him more respectful wouldn’t you? But, having a lesbian older sister, and a couple others that were bi, all they did was teach him how to peak without getting caught.

That said he’d doubt his friends would call him out for staring, considering some of the girls here had assets that would give Yang pause.

They didn’t notice him pausing and walked by, a fragrant fruity perfume left behind. Jaune couldn’t help but look behind him, watching those girls go, a sway in their step that cause something in Jaune to rise up.

“Dammit,” Jaune cursed as his pants tightened up.

Jaune look around before he adjusted his pants, so that his zipper wouldn’t fly off by accident again, and tucking his erection down his pant leg so that it’d be less noticeable.

Jaune felt frustration well up in him, this had become a reoccurring problem since he started Beacon. The girls here were just too damn hot! It made walking anywhere a damn hassle and a embarrassment, and he had no way to release any of his damn tension in his dorm, Nora had broken the locks to the bathroom and the door; That had probably been the closest he had ever come to killing somebody.

Letting out an other sigh he resigned himself to shuffling back to the dorm as the blood went flowing elsewhere. He should just thank his lucky stars that he’d never popped a boner anywhere near Ruby, Yang would have found out somehow, probably Nora, and then killed him.

Right as he got close to the dorms, Jaune’s blood-flow was back to normal, but he still felt tense and incredibly worked up.

The sound of weights being lifted, treadmills running, and other exercise equipment sounded from nearby.

The gym was only a short walk away from the dorms. Jaune paused for a moment, Nora and Yang always seemed to go to the gym when they go worked up, maybe he should try it, it’s not like he didn’t go often anyway, so what would it hurt to work out so stress?

---------

Jaune stared at the scroll in his hands, ‘10:03′ where did the time go? He went in at ‘4:26′, went to the weight rack, and then everything seemed to go into a blur, and then the next thing he remembered was a upperclassman telling him the gym was closing in soon.

“Guess, I had more stress to work out than I thought I did.” Jaune said to himself walking to the gym showers, suddenly starting to feel exhausted and wanting to jump into bed at the closest opportunity.

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The next morning was agonizing, his arms felt like they were made of pure, while on fire and being pulled apart! Maybe he went too hard last night.

He was also feeling cavernously hungry. No wonder Nora has an appetite like a black-hole.

------

Jaune’s problem came back in full force during lunch when Yang leaned too far back and the top couple buttons of her shirt decided they wanted a life in the air force.

Leaving Jaune with a delicious view of her cleavage.

Yang looked at her shirt, “Shoot, I actually liked this one.” She then resumed eating.

A hand caressing his leg, brought him out of his vision. “Are you alright, Jaune?” Pyrrha’s warm, gentle voice whispered into his ear

A mildly blush went up his face. “Yeah, just, uh, taking in the view.”

“Oh, ok then, but if your not feeling well, I can take you back to the room.”

“I’m good.” Jaune said a little too fast, as his mind started to fill in the blanks of what his monkey brain wanted to do to Pyrrha.

Pyrrha nodded.

Jaune felt thankful that Yang or Nora hadn’t found a chance to tease him about being alone with Pyrrha.

Lunch came and went, and Jaune made sure he was the last to get up, so that his problem wouldn’t be seen. He couldn’t exactly fiddle with himself under the table without drawing attention. So with all the swiftness he had, he tucked himself into his pant-leg while getting up.

In hindsight, maybe walking behind his developed female friends, and especially Blake, was a bad idea. His other head disagreed with him.

The rest of the day went by in a blur, combat class was a mess, but mostly cause he can’t being drawn to his friend outfits, they showed so much leg.

He went back to the gym again after class, he went to the treadmill and leg exercise machine. The upperclassman had to tell him to leave again.

-------

The rest of the week seemed to follow a similar pattern for Jaune, he’d wake up sore, but a little less so each day, go to class, end up aroused, then pent up, then go to the gym when he had the free time, and only when he had free time, going into those workout trances made him lose anytime for studying, hanging out, or training.

Training with Pyrrha was probably the hardest part of his week, literally and metaphorical, because while he loved Pyrrha like a sister, his body constantly reminded him that they were not siblings! It always made him feel disgusted when ever he looked at Pyrrha that way. No way Pyrrha ever looked at him that way.

After training with Pyrrha though, he still had two hours before the gym closed, and he was pent up again.

The upperclassman had told him to get an alarm or something, cause he wouldn’t always be there to tell him to leave.

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Hanging out with team RWBY was always a... Experience, they were fun, don’t get him wrong, but it was like chaos in a bottle. The bottle was also cracked, and there was no cork either.

Today he and the rest of his team came over to hangout, and Ruby insisted they play twister.

Jaune was forming a bridge with his arms bending backwards to stay on there spot, while Ruby was draped across him with one leg over his shoulder and the other over his arm, with her front laying across his stomach, and her arms going in between and around his legs. While Nora lay under him her chest pressing into his back. It was also a really small mat.

Everybody else had dropped out, or refused to play, while Blake controlled the game, and Yang video taped everything.

Then Nora sneezed into his neck. That was the straw that broke the camels back. Sneeze both tickled his neck and scared the life out of Jaune, as he somehow managed to jump a foot into the air from his position, carrying Ruby with him. They landed on Nora with a thud.

Jaune’s position with Nora’s chest on his back and Ruby’s legs on his chest, really wasn’t going to help with his tension, as his lower-body decided to achieve liftoff.

That said he had managed to get a grip on himself lately,. So Jaune calmly got off Nora, and picked up Ruby, putting her next to Nora. All while hiding his full mast, then went to the gym again.

“You think he’s alright?” Ruby asked innocently.

“Probably just rubbing one out.” Nora said full of confidence. “These sweater puppy's of mine are of a quality most women can only dream of, yet here I sit, my majesty a reality, I don’t blame Jaune at all.”

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Jaune was watching with wrapt attention as Ms. Goodwitch strode across the arena pointing out several flaws in recorded fights she had on holographic videos. Tapping them with her wand to enhance the smaller images at time.

RIIIP

Her blouse broke, showing off globes of creamy white flesh barely being contained by a purple bra.

Ms. Goodwitch paused, a light blush on her face. “Well, Students this should teach us to be prepared for anything.”

Jaune then got up, walking out the door.

“Mr. Arc, where do you think your going?” His teacher asked severely, as several laughs broke out of the room, many people pointing at him.

“To the gym. I don’t think I’m going to be able to focus much today.” “Very well, any others who wished to join him?”

The gym was very packed that day.

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Jaune enjoyed hanging out with Pyrrha, she was probably the best friend he ever had. He just wished she would stop having to bend over so often in front of him, or walking in front of him when she did that he couldn’t help but focus on her swaying hips.

Jaune sighed as he felt a rise tower start to erect. “I’m going to the gym be back later.”

Pyrrha merely looked bewildered. She though she had him for sure this time!

----

The transfer students were interesting people, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of them. They came from all walks of life, all paths, all creeds and kingdoms. From the strictly dressed military like Atlas Academy, to the survival of the fittest types and loosely dressed Shade Academy, or the storied and traditional style of Mistral. They were all interesting, diverse, strong and incredible sexy.

Ever since he ran into that black haired girl and her green haired partner, he somehow kept managing to find them in the most compromising or revealing positions possible.

So, Jaune started hitting the gym harder than ever.

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1 Year later....

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With a slight shaking arms Jaune pushed the loaded bar back up, exhaling. Then he took a slow, deep inhale as he lowered it down to his chest, then exhaled rising it up again. Inhale, exhale, till he finished his rep.

He rose up from the bench with a grate moan, feeling the warm soreness across his body. It hurt, but in a good way. In a way he couldn’t have appreciated a year ago.

Grabbing his towel he wiped the sweat off his face, and then cleaned off the bench. Treat the gym right, and it’ll treat you right back.

Jaune paused as he walked toward the shower, he had gotten into a habit of showering here so he didn’t have to make his teammate's rush to clean up, there was wall of mirror he looked himself over finding nothing of note, beside himself sweaty and his hair kinda sticky looking.

The water was cold, but high pressured, helping unwind any knots on his back and wash off grime better. He had started taking cold showers more frequently as in the field your rarely got to wash off in general, and if you did, it’s not likely you’ll get hot water, so it he thought it was probably best to get into the habit now.

Working out felt good, taking a shower afterword was just perfect. The only thing that would make it better was wearing his onesie, he had a right to comfort! But, it had gone mysteriously missing after he met Coco on his walk back from the gym half a year ago. So, for now he was stuck wearing white tank-top, and a pair of cotton shorts back to the dorm.

He waved by to the upperclassman about to close the gym, and left for his dorm. He may not have started going to the gym for the right reason, but over the course of a year, he felt like he had grown from then. In fact... what was the reason he started going to the gym? Something about women? Eh, must have been nothing. Ever since he started taking his training double seriously during the Vytal festival, it was like he just didn’t feel dating anybody till he around to being a huntsman, like that there was more to life than dating or stuff.

Jaune ran a hand through his hair, he had started growing it out at the beginning of the second year and now Pyrrha and everybody else vetoed him getting a hair cut!

“Hahah, jokes on them though, they have to brush the knots out of my hair!”

Walking back to his dorm a fruity perfume pasted his nose, a vaguely familar laughter along with it. Then a slightly familar group of girls were walking in the opposite direction as him. They looked like they came back from a night on the town. He liked the way they dressed, it complimented themselves very well.

As he walked pasted them they paused and stared at him, Jaune paused too, but shrugged, giving them a broad smile and a wave before walking back to his dorm.

Jaune failed to miss the women eyeing fucking him as he walked away, all of them red face and heavy breathing.

“Hmm, why do I feel like I’m in danger?”

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Jaune wasn’t sure when, but he had grown into a morning person. It was fun to get up in the morning now, he liked watching the sun rise, seeing the sky change colors on his morning runs.

Being team leader meant having responsibilities, so being a early riser now meant getting up his team, they were going to be third-years in a not small amount of time. So he made sure that they got up at a reasonable time to prepare for the day. Along with the fact on mission they would have to get up before the sun rise on most days.

Also, he especially liked to watch his teammates get up, it was entertaining in different ways from Nora crashing out of bed, to Ren rising from a blanket cocoon, and Pyrrha’s silly little death threats to any man stealing bitches out there.

He tended to wake them up with a gentle approach putting hand on there shoulders and carefully shaking them awake. He had forgotten how strong he was a couple of months ago when he sent Nora flying into a wall by accident, so had tried to be gentle.

The rest of Team Jnpr had learned a couple months ago that they no longer had a choice in waking up early, the only choice was before the sun was up or after.

Jaune put on his uniform for class, he frowned a little bit, as it was tighter than it was yesterday. Maybe it’s new? Guess it needs to be broken in.

Team RWBY met them at breakfast, Ruby refused to let her other bestie get ahead in the leader game by letting just JNPR get up early! Jaune didn’t notice but he often got murderous glances from Blake.

Eating breakfast Jaune felt a crick in his back so he leaned back.

Pop-pop-pop-pop, RIIIIP!

His buttons on his shirt fired off like a machine gun shattering against the walls of the cafeteria, and then his shirt fell to pieces, revealing his sculpted torso, arms and abs.

“Ahh man, I liked that shirt.” Then continued eating, not aware of the stares his friends, other students, and Ms. Goodwitch were giving his body, eyeing him up as much or more than he used to do to them.

AN: If this Jaune was ever put into a situation where couldn’t exercise for like a week, his libido would come back with vengeance and make him a unstoppable sex monster. That said, what are the odds of that happening?

#Jaune Arc #Not quite crack #Slight Himboification #Team JNPR #Team RWBY #Glynda Goodwitch

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wildsorcerer · 4 years ago

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this is the start of how it all ends

SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 9 OF ACOC - i needed to write about ruby in the immediate aftermath of ep 9 - read it on ao3

Ruby Rocks collapsed on the rock candy bridge that led from Dulcington to Castle Candy. She could feel something shift, moments before the locket around her neck went cold and dark, the rest of her body with it. She lost all feeling in her limbs, her legs numb underneath her as she shook. Jet died alone, while she was fleeing. Even as the wound where the watersteel had been plunged into her side continued to bleed, Ruby was unsure if she would ever be able to drag herself from where she sat, too shocked to cry yet.

It felt impossible. It felt like a nightmare, too terrible to be true. But when Liam approached from behind, carrying… carrying Jet, she knew that this was no dream. She looked up at him, the red of Jet’s blood mingling with the pink of his peppermint body.

“Ruby, Jet is… We have to get to the castle, Ciabatta could still be out there,” Liam panted, carrying Jet’s body like a baby, her chest unmoving.

Ruby scrambled up, her hands already moving towards Sourscratch. “Ciabatta was in there? Where is he now?”

“Ruby, no, we have to tell someone, get an adult,” Liam tried, moving across the bridge.

“Did Ciabatta kill her?” Ruby was almost shouting now, the whole world was moving too fast. She can’t look at Liam and the body that he was carrying. She had trusted Ciabatta. Even when he killed a mercenary while they stole Alfredi’s secrets, Ruby had brushed it off, even though Jet was worried.

“Ruby,” Liam hissed, and what brought her out of her anger was that he was crying. She couldn’t bring herself to say anything else, but she nodded to him, and they set off towards the castle that they don’t yet know is also in danger.

They made their way into the castle through one of the side doors, unwilling to carry the dead princess through the front. The sounds of fighting were not yet loud enough for them to hear. They would have a few more moments of mourning.

“Wait, Liam,” Ruby said, just as they had passed through the doorway, pulling him into a small alcove where they wouldn’t be disturbed. Liam went without resistance, clearly worn out from the battle and the walk. She was as well, but she needed this.

Ruby finally looked down at Jet’s body. The wound in her midsection was still bleeding, but her face looked the same as always. It hurt more for her to look the same. She reached for the locket around Jet’s neck and unfastened it, looping it around her own neck so that the two lockets connected, making one heart. It felt so deeply wrong.

Liam was crying again, but trying desperately to pretend like he wasn’t. As she was hooking the locket around her neck, he whispered, “She said that you did the right thing. That she loves you. Those were her. Her last words.”

Ruby opened her mouth but couldn’t speak. She could feel everything swirling in her, anger at her own survival instincts, deep fury at Ciabatta, sadness that she hadn’t had the chance to feel yet, and grim resignation to the future. The future where she is an only child.

Out of nowhere, thunderous crashes demolished the quiet intimacy in their alcove. Shouts from the guards all around rang out like bells. Ruby and Liam looked at each other.

This is how the war started.

It started with armies besieging Castle Candy. It started with Ruby and Liam, tucking Jet’s body into a bed so that it would be hidden during the battle, with Ruby locking the door and sliding the key under it, so that nobody would be able to get in without magic. It started with Amethar, unseen, rising from a crater. He fingers the hilt of Payment Day, and is certain who it’s next victim would be.

Ruby and Liam didn’t mean to split up after making sure that Jet’s body was out of harm’s way. Ruby hadn’t been focusing on where Liam was, her head too full of the image of Jet, looking almost alive laying in the bed where they left her, a smear of blood the only thing that marred the image. Ruby wanted to hold her. She wanted to sit in that empty bedroom in an unused wing of the castle and mourn properly. She wanted to let the battle rage without her. But she tore herself away, leaving Jet again, as she and Liam snuck around, trying to find any ally, since they were too weak to fight. Somewhere in the confusion of soldiers running everywhere, Liam had been lost, and Ruby wandered the castle alone, staying out of sight, looking for her mom, her dad, even Calroy. Any friendly face.

What she found was Ciabatta. She peeked around a corner and saw him, giving several guards commands to attack any Candians they saw, still dressed like an assassin. Seeing Ciabatta was like poking a new wound. Ruby felt tears threaten to spill, and leaned away, pressing her back into the wall. She knew that her tears were a symptom of the anger that beat like it’s own heart. The Ceresian guards surrounding Ciabatta marched off down the hallway, away from Ruby. She was hurt unsure if she would survive this encounter, but knew that she had to do this. Ciabatta could not walk away.

She peered back around the corner. They were deep in the Castle, battles raging all over the building. Ruby didn’t realize it, but they were only a hallway or two away from the tower where Lapin had tried to teach the two girls about history, spending many hazy afternoons making faces at each other from behind books, linking pinkies under the desks, and whispering to each other about the future. That life was so far away, and neither Lapin nor Jet were here now. She quietly loaded Sourscratch, stepping around the corner and aiming it at Ciabatta, firing before he had the chance to move.

He staggered back with the hit, but wasn’t down. Ruby quickly loaded again, keeping the bow aimed at Ciabatta’s head.

“Ah, the youngest Rocks,” Ciabatta said, drawing his sword, advancing towards Ruby. “I was wondering if you would find me.”

Ruby couldn’t think of anything to say. Her words were failing her, the manta he killed her he killed her he killed her repeating endlessly, drowning out any witty retorts she could imagine.

He was getting closer to her now, Ruby continued backing away, firing once more but the arrow flew over his shoulder. She reached to reload, but as she did, he lunged forward with his sword, swinging with the practice of someone that had earned his power in battle. He was more experienced with melee combat, and sliced through her shoulder, but she dropped, rolling out of the way and firing two quick shots from Sourscratch that landed soundly into his back. He took this in stride, whirling around to face Ruby even as she backed farther away towards the bottom of a flight of stairs, before firing once more, not stopping to see the arrow embed itself in a painting on the wall.

He was strong, quick, and more war hardened that she was, but Ruby was fueled by the mercenary that he had killed like they were nothing. Ruby was fueled by the moment when Plumbeline called out Ciabatta’s name and forced her father into excommunication. Ruby was fueled by chocolate and peppermint splattered on the windows of a cathedral. She was fueled by Jet.

She sprinted up the stairs, finding unnatural speed in the adrenaline. She knew that he would soon get close enough to really do damage, and a bow was useless that close. She stood at the top of the stairs, thinking fast, and grabbed for a small place on her belt, where the water dagger had lain ever since she took it from Keradin. Running a bit farther down the hallway, she raised the dagger, clutching it in her hand, turning to face Ciabatta, who had just finished climbing the stairs. He continued to run at her and Ruby braced herself.

“This is for my sister, you moldy bitch,” she said, and dodged left, out of the way of his sword, slamming the weight of her body behind the knife that killed the Imperator of Ceresia.

He fell to the ground, the bread turning to mush where the watersteel melted him. Ruby stood over him, Sourscratch in one hand, the other putting pressure on her shoulder.

“You...cannot stop the end…the Hungry One must eat,” Ciabatta wheezed, “Candia will fall.”

“Long live the King,” Ruby spat at him, tears falling freely now.

Ciabatta said nothing more, spluttering as water came out of his mouth, the watersteel making quick work of his organs.

She leaned on the wall of the hallway, sliding down to the floor, unable to handle the shaking that came over her. She cried harder than ever before, Ciabatta’s form blurry. This was the sadness that she had not let herself feel until now. Killing the assassin hadn’t made her feel any better.

It hadn’t brought her twin back. Nothing ever would.

Ruby thought of a day when she and Jet had been children, out on the grounds of the castle, playing war, wrestling and play-fighting Amethar, who pretended to be hurt by their child fists. She wondered where her father was now, if he was winning his battle.

“Did you know you were killing Jet?” Ruby asked, the tear tracks visible on her face, even though her crying was slowed, “Did you know it was her?”

Ciabatta inhaled like he wanted to speak, but it took him several tries. Finally, “Yes.”

Rage like Ruby had never felt before. She suddenly understood her father, her vision blurring at the edges as she stared at the man that had made her the rightful heir to the Candian throne. Still on the ground, she grabbed an arrow from her quiver, moved to kneel over his body, and plunged the arrow deep into his heart. The watersteel was already killing him, but Ruby wanted to speed up the process.

Before she had wanted him to die alone, but here she sat, watching as life leaves his eyes and the poison eats away at his flesh. She eventually moved away from his body. She felt like throwing up, but settled for closing her eyes, the cold stone floor beneath her reminding her too much of the bridge where the light in her locket died, only an hour ago.

Ruby felt like all of her emotions died with Ciabatta. She felt distantly sad, and will eventually find herself again, but the part of her chest that once housed Jet was hollow, cracking, raw. She held the connected lockets, bringing them up to her lips and kissing them, whispering words of love to Jet.

She was deeply tired, she wanted to rest, to find that bedroom where Jet lay, to kill Ciabatta again and feel something. She didn’t know what she wanted. But she could hear that the sounds of Candian weapons clashing with Ceresian ones had not stopped.

The war was not over because the Imperator was dead. Ruby Rocks, now the oldest living Rocks sister, turned her back on a murder and went towards the battle, a slight limp in her stride. She went towards her family and her future, alone.

#acoc spoilers #my writing #personal #a crown of candy

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strangely-constructed-soul · 6 years ago

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Rowaelin au(my spin on the 17 yr old au) Part I

Part 2/Masterlist

5 years old

Rowan

Five years old and already I hated court gatherings. There weren’t many children in this court. A small girl, a couple inches shorter than me, with light golden blonde hair and turquoise eyes was dressed up. She was really pretty on her own, and with the dress and the pigtails, she looked like a doll. She had a light purple dress on, a white cardigan, and little pink flats on.

She was giving everyone a look that said ‘Stay away’. I was going to go talk to her. She could be my girlfriend. I gathered as much confidence as I could, and I walked straight over to her. She was looking at me now, a surprised look on her face.

“Hello, I’m Prince Rowan, what’s your name?” I greeted her politely. She was smiling shyly at me.

“Princess Aelin. What’s your favorite color, Rowan?” Aelin asked, grinning. She tucked a lock of hair behind a pointed ear. She was a princess, thought Rowan.

“Red,” I replied, also grinning. “What’s yours?” I continued.

“Blue like the sky,” She answered. She was smart then. “You’re a prince, huh?” She surveyed me. I was suddenly pretty nervous.

“Uh- yeah. And you’re a princess,” I ventured. Aelin shrugged. “Will you be my friend?” I asked her sheepishly.

“Sure I’ll be your friend. Only if we can play games, though.” She argued.

“Deal.” I agreed. We shook hands. I felt a tingling sensation where her fingers gripped mine. Magic, I thought.

Are you ready for some fun, Rowan? She raised an eyebrow. I thought for a second.

Absolutely.

Rowan

Aelin and I were inseparable. She was my best friend and I was hers. Much to the chagrin of her cousin Aedion, we spent almost all of our free time together.

I told Aelin everything. I’m pretty sure she tells me everything, too.

“Hey, Rowan!” Aelin waltzed up to me in the training hall. She was grinning.

“You’re happy today,” I ventured. She just grinned even more brightly. Wow she was pretty.

“Well, I just kicked Aedion’s butt at fencing, so I’m really proud.” She lifted her chin up haughtily.

“And here I was thinking you always were like that,” I teased. She stuck her tongue out at me and I chucked.

“Wanna sneak up on Endymion?” Aelin suggested a prank on my own cousin that sounded hilarious.

“Absolutely.” I stated and slung an arm around her shoulders. We started off to find some shaving cream and a feather.

Aelin

Rowan got me the most beautiful Yulemas present. A necklace(because he knows how much I love finery) with a ruby flame on it. It was our twelfth year. He was the greatest friend anyone could have asked for.

Lately, though, I’ve been thinking about him more and more. What would it be like if we were more than friends. But, no. We were too young and I was not going to jeopardize our current relationship for something that I wasn’t even sure would work out.

That didn’t stop me from hoping.

Rowan

I was sitting on the edge of a turquoise forest pool. There was a gentle breeze blowing across my face. I was so calm, yet I felt empty. Like something was missing.

Someone’s hand tapped my shoulder. I whipped around to find a blurry image of a girl.

“Rowan!” She called. She began running. I started to smile, chasing after her playfully. She laughed, and I laughed too.

Suddenly, she came to a halt and turned to face me. I was only a few feet away from her now, and I could see the turquoise and gold of her eyes. She looked startled.

I felt a tug in my gut, a tether to her, getting closer and closer by the minute, but never touching. I didn’t know what it was. All I knew was that this girl in my dream was my whole world.

Aelin, my mind answered the silent question I had asked it. I sighed. Aelin.

I felt her soft yet calloused hands gripping my own.

“Rowan,” she murmured. I- She began speaking into my mind, but she was cut off by me being shaken awake by someone.

How Aedion got into my locked room, I didn’t know. All I knew was him dragging my sleepy form across the hall. Towards his room. He slept in the room diagonally across the hall from me.

Aelin slept in the room next to mine, across from Aedion’s. So we both would be there for her if something unspeakable were to happen. The door between our rooms was always locked though.

Aedion shut his door as hard as he could without making noise. His nostrils flared. He looked livid. He shoved me, and I stumbled but didn’t fall.

“Aedion, what the hell is going on?” I exclaimed, my hands clenching and unclenching at my sides. Aedion simply glared at me, standing to his full height, about three inches taller than me.

“You tell me. First, Aelin and you spend most of your time together, then Elide tells me that when they spend time together, all Aelin can talk about is you. Then you forget to put a shield around your room and I hear you saying Aelin over and over in your sleep. What am I supposed to think? Are you having perverted dreams about my cousin? Are you secretly in love with her? I don’t know what I’m supposed to think!” He yells, the anger slowly seeping out of his face. He still appears hostile. My fae instincts were screaming at me to appear more dominant, but I backed down.

“I’m so sorry, Aedion. I don’t know what came over me. No, I was not having perverted dreams about Aelin. She’s my best friend. It was just a dream. I care about her very much, but I’m not in love with her.” I stated calmly, both of us heard it for the blatant lie that it was(me not being in love with her, that is). Aedion frowned at the ground then mumbled a barely coherent apology. “What?” I ask incredulously, the corners of my mouth drifting upwards.

“I said I’m sorry that I overreacted. Are you happy now?” He spits out. I shrug and wordlessly exit the room. I shove my hands into the pockets of my sleeping pants and start walking towards my room.

I am already drifting off to sleep when I hear a gentle, familiar female voice murmur, “Rowan,”.

I thought I must have dreamed it, yet I fell asleep smiling, reminiscing about everything that was Aelin Galathynius.

Aelin

That night I dreamt of a turquoise pond and the green-eyed, fledgling warrior prince that had stolen my heart. Rowan.

Aelin

If you want to win, you’re going to have to do much better than that. I told Rowan through my eyes. He rolled his eyes and proceeded to shoot a blast of ice toward my face. I easily dodged it. He huffed in annoyance.

The temperature in the clearing of trees gradually raised as I prepared a blast of magic. Rowan narrowly avoided being blasted by ducking behind some shrubbery.

Let’s take a break for today, I’m out of practice. Rowan conceded. I reigned in my triumphant smirk. Rowan looked uncharacteristically confused.

This week is my seventeenth birthday. Rowan turned seventeen a few months ago. We had been best friends for over eleven years. Except, of course, I was irrevocably in love with him.

Lately, though, he had been a little distant. I needed to talk to him about it.

“Rowan, what is it?” I asked him, trying to mask my concern. He looked at me and sighed.

“Aelin, I- I have something to tell you,” Rowan began. He sounded very serious, also uncharacteristic of him. I nodded for him to continue. “I think that we’re carranam,” he admitted. Oh. Huh. I’d never thought of that before and, now that I did, it made complete sense.

“I think you’re right,” I agreed. He looked relieved.

“Should we- I mean, not if you don’t want to. I know it can be dangerous, and-” I cut him off with a finger to the lips. The tips of his ears turned pink. I looked up at him(In the past few years, he had gained over half of a foot on me).

“Rowan, we might as well find out.” I suggested.

“You’re right.”

“I know.”

He held out his hand and drew a knife along his palm. A thin line of blood ran down it. I extended my hand and he gently(or maybe even tenderly) took my hand in his own. He carefully avoided any major arteries as he ran the knife along my own palm.

He cautiously extended his hand and I clutched it. His magic barreled into me, wild and endless. The cold to balance out my flame.

There was something else, too. A golden string. One half was on my side of the magic and the other one on his. Interesting.

I looked up at Rowan to find him staring at me, our faces only an inch apart. Our powers were a swirling abyss around us. Rowan created a diadem of icicles and he tentatively placed it on my head with his free hand. I created a crown of fire over his head.

Rowan took my other hand and just stared into my eyes intensely. I removed my hands from his and placed them on his neck. He sighed and placed his hands on my waist.

We touched our foreheads together. The golden string pulled tighter and tighter, but before it could connect, someone coughed nearby.

We slowly pulled apart, the crowns disappeared. Our hands still brushing, we faced the disturbance.

It was Hart, a guard assigned to the diplomat from the southern kingdom. I think the diplomat’s name was Lucas, or something, it didn’t matter.

“Your highnesses, you have been called to a meeting in the throne room. His highness, the prince of the southern kingdom, has arrived.”

Rowan and I were taken to the throne room. We were placed on opposite sides of the room as my family was the ruling family of this country and his family was the ruling family of the country to the north.

I knew that there was something that he wasn’t telling me. I had to talk to him now.

Rowan, I said through my eyes. His head whipped up so that his gaze met mine.

Aelin, He replied dotingly, eyes softening.

What’s going on? I asked. A pause.

I don’t know, but I have to talk to you later.

Okay.

With that, I turned to my parents and my father began talking,

“Ladies and gentlemen of the court, thank you for joining us. We are here to address the situation of Aelin and Rowan’s….. relationship.” Murmuring through the assembled nobility at the word.

It took all of my self restraint not to look up at Rowan. I felt his eyes on me.

“As many of you know, the two have been friends for a decade. Our concern is that they are too close. The kingdom to the south has expressed interest in a marriage alliance between Aelin and their prince,” Lord Darrow announced. My eyes widened and I let out a gasp. I couldn’t bear to look at Rowan. “Now, the northern kingdom has yet to express interest in an alliance. If they were to make an offer, this courtship could proceed.” Darrow continued. The northern lords grumbled and frowned at this, but Rowan only had eyes for Aelin as he nodded, just once.

“Wait a minute, I thought we had made an agreement. Aelin is to marry my son, the second prince of Prythian.” A devilish and deceptively light female voice crooned from the back of the throne room.

—————————————————————

#rowaelin #rowan #aelin #fanfiction #love #mates #alternate universe #acotar cameos #fanfic #part 1

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wellhellotragic · 7 years ago

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36 Questions

Summary: They say all it takes is 36 questions. 36 questions between you and a complete stranger and suddenly you’ll both fall madly in love with each other. 36 agonizingly personal questions that force you to reveal your deepest darkest secrets. Well, that, and 4 minutes of staring into the most devastatingly blue eyes you’ve ever seen.

Rating: Um, mature I guess?

A/N: This was written as a pick-me up for @artistic-writer who had a really awful shitty week. As I’m a procrastinator extraordinaire, it’s now also a very slightly b-day prezzie! I think I missed it by about 2 hours, but technically it’s still today where I am lol. Happy birthday Salem!!!

Thank you @best-left-hook-jones for making this better and for the prompt idea, even if it did come at the dignity of your grad tech!

Also on AO3

36 Questions

There were many things in life that people could describe Emma Swan as: orphan, foster kid, reformed thief, closed-off, even prickly. But the one thing Emma definitely wasn’t was a coward. She hadn’t back down from Chris Palmer when he’d tried to steal her camera in the ninth grade, and she wouldn’t back down from this either.

“You can always call chicken and take the extra shot.”

Ruby had already been three sheets to the wind when Emma arrived to the White Rabbit after work. Taking a job in the library in the evenings to help pay for bills, also helped give Emma a chance to catch up on her school work during the quiet moments, but it really ate into her social life. Not that she had much of one, but she had a few friends.

The White Rabbit wasn’t anything spectacular by any means. It was an average college dive bar, and a place where people could go to get lost, or really really drunk in most cases. The floor was covered in drink slush and the wallpaper was worn and ripped in places. It smelled stale, and there was always some idiot that would try to hit on her or Ruby.

Luckily, tonight Mary Margaret and David had agreed to tag along. Mary Margaret was already attempting to force water down Ruby’s throat, and David was in protection mode, giving death glares to every man that so much as looked at them.

Having skipped lunch, it only took two drinks for Emma to reach the point of pleasantly buzzed. By that time, Ruby had sobered up enough to function without the use of Mary Margaret to keep her upright. Pleasant conversation had drifted into more mature topics, and then, out of nowhere, the dare had been set.

It had been a long standing tradition in the group. At any point in time, any of them could dare one of the others to do something. They only got one dare per month though, so it wasn’t something to be wasted on a frivolous act. As soon as the words “I dare you” fell from Ruby’s lips, Emma knew she was screwed.

Sure, there was always the chicken option. It meant walking around flapping your arms like a chicken as you clucked for 30 seconds straight. It was a fail safe Belle had built in before she’d left for her foreign exchange program. Either way, humiliation was sure to follow.

“I dare you,” the slurred words paused as her eyes scanned the room, “to kiss that guy over there.”

Emma rolled her eyes, knowing Ruby had probably picked out some chubby co-ed or a frat boy with the IQ of a turtle.

“Wait, which one?” Admittedly, Ruby’s finger wasn’t exactly steady.

“That one. The guy in the black leather jacket.”

Emma’s eyes searched through the crowd of people and, like fate, it was as if the heavens had looked down and parted the masses at that exact moment. There he was; sex and leather. Emma had to force herself to breath. Even without catching his gaze, she could tell he had the most hypnotically blue eyes she’d ever seen before, and his hair was artfully tousled, like he’d just finished fucking someone in the bathroom. She could practically feel his lips on hers already, the burn from his scruff on her cheeks, her neck, her thighs.

It was too good to be true. None of them, Ruby included, ever put forth a dare that didn’t result in total humiliation. Emma watched for a moment, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Are you in or out?”

The goading was the last push she needed. Throwing back the last of her drink, she stood up, throwing her friend a wink before marching towards tall, dark, and gorgeous. But just as she made it to the end of the bar, the other shoe dropped in the form of a blonde bombshell.

Tinkerbelle Greene. Emma’s only real interaction with Tink was from a photography course she’d taken her sophomore year to avoid the foreign language requirement. The short blonde had been a few years older, and had zero inhibitions. For their end of year projects, each student had to submit three self portraits, something that revealed their true selves. Tink’s had all been nude, something every guy in the course responded to. And now she was sitting next him, vying for the same man she was.

Well crap. It was one thing to accept the dare when he was just some random single guy at the bar. She’d never consider the idea that he might already have a girlfriend, or even worse, a wife. Pausing to take stock of the situation, she let her eyes drift to his left hand in search of a wedding ring. Instead, she only found a black glove.

Emma turned back to Ruby, seriously reconsidering, but when Ruby tucked her arms in and started flapping her makeshift wings, Emma’s resolve returned. Stalking up to a bit like a mad woman, she barely managed to acknowledge the absolute rage radiating from Tink as she gripped the lapels of his coat and wrenched him forward.

His lips were softer than she had imagined they would be, and there was a faint trace of rum lingering, until his lips parted at the swipe of her tongue and she nearly drowned in the flavor. She could feel him everywhere, his tongue exploring her mouth, the way one of his hands found purchase on her waist, only after having grazed her ass. The other hand softly tugged on her hair, forcing her head backwards. He stepped closer so that their was no space lingering between their bodies, and had it not been for the catcalls next to them, Emma might have allowed herself to become lost in him.

“Way to go, Emma!”

Hearing her name from a slightly drunk Mary Margaret was all it took to remind her of where she was, and what she was doing. Pulling back, she felt her cheeks redden at the embarrassment of the entertainment they’d just provided the entire bar. Somewhere behind her she heard a huff she was vaguely certain came from Tink, before the sound of high heels retreating started fading away.

“That was-”

Oh God, and he had an accent.

“A one time thing.”

Without any further explanation, Emma pushed lightly against his chest, just enough to disingange herself from his arms, before spinning on her heel and walking back to the table her friends were still sat at.

She didn’t sit back down though. Something felt off. Emma was suddenly dizzy, like her entire world had be spun and turned upside down. She just needed to get home and sleep it off. To pretend like the guy in the black leather jacket didn’t exist, and to somehow forget that a random stranger has just given her the most passionate kiss of her life.

“Ok guys, it’s been real, but I’m out.”

“Really, you do that,” David started as he waved his finger around, “and then just leave like it was nothing?”

“Pretty much.” Emma shrugged, hoping to play off the way her entire body had turned into a puddle at the thought of doing that again. “Besides, I promised Professor Mills that I’d look after her son for a couple of hours in the morning, before Ruby’s thing.”

The ‘thing’ in question was still a mystery to Emma, but when she’d heard that it paid $100 for less than 2 hours of her time, she was in. Plus it helped her friend out with her senior psychology project. A win-win for Emma.

Or it would have been if Emma hadn’t spent the next two hours laying in her bed, unable to sleep with ocean blue eyes running through her mind. Just before she’d left the bar, she’d turned to give her friends a final wave, but instead he’d caught her eye. He’d been watching her, his fingertips resting against his lips, a question in his eyes she couldn’t answer.

In a fit of desperation, Emma took matters into her own hands, quite literally. She could still feel the press of is growing erection against her, and as the vibrations from her toy worked at her core, it was the image of of him above her, pummeling, whispering naughty things in her ear in his lilting accent that finally pushed her over the edge.

Sleep came easily after that.

Looking after Henry was more exhausting than Emma had expected it to be. Granted, with images of blue eyes haunting her dreams, Emma hadn’t slept nearly enough to compete with the energy level of a two year old, but Henry was extra excitable. As it turned out, Henry had found Regina’s secret stash of monthly chocolate and had devoured an entire box of Happy Hippos right before Emma had arrived, and had been running off of pure sugar right up until he crashed five minutes before Regina got home.

Emma didn’t miss the condescending way Regina wished her a good day as she took in the mess in the living room. The day was off to a bang up start and she still had to go be a guinea pig for Ruby.

The psychology building was housed behind the administrative building. Getting in and navigating the maze was easy enough, having spend plenty of afternoons searching for Ruby to grab her share of the grocery money. The lab that Ruby used was on the 3rd floor of the building, with a small window the overlooked the quad behind it. Ruby had explained that they only used the room for certain experiments as many participants often got distracted by everyone milling around outside, and that would ruin the results. For her experiment though, she wanted something with a slightly less clinical feeling.

In the room was a couch with some blankets and a coffee table with unlit candles. All of the other furniture had been removed, and Emma immediately felt her walls begin to rise.

“So,” Emma let the word linger a bit. “What exactly is it that I’m doing here? Because it looks like whatever you have planned is bordering on unethical, or you know, illegal?”

“Em, it’s not like that. Geeze, get your head of if the gutt- What is that on your shirt?”

Emma looked down to see brown stains near the hemline of her cream sweater.

“Uh, I think it’s chocolate. Or at least I’m praying that it’s chocolate. Henry was covered in the stuff when I got to the professor’s house.”

“Well you need to change because it looks like someone shat on you. Not exactly conducive to the study.”

“And what exactly is your study? You’ve been pretty mum about the whole thing.”

“Change first!”

Emma looked around, in a sarcastic response. She hadn’t brought any spare clothes with her and unless Ruby had something stashed away, there wasn’t another option. Unfortunately, Emma had failed to consider the Ruby Lucas had zero inhibitions and gave no fucks about her body. Quickly stripping herself of her scarlet colored knit top, the dangled the garment on her finger, daring Emma to protest.

She didn’t. One thing Emma had learned over the two years that they had lived together was how to pick her battles, and judging by Ruby’s wolfish grin, she knew a war was coming. With a huff, Emma grabbed the bottom of her sweater and pulled it off of her body, throwing it at Ruby. Taking the offered top, Emma struggled to figure out how to put it on so that she wouldn’t get tangled in the twisted straps in the back.

“Killian Jones reporting for duty as orde-”

Emma squealed and immediately spun around trying to hide herself from the door, keeping the top pressed again her chest, her chest that was nearly matching in color.

“Oh, I- Uh- I’ll just wait out in the hall.”

Emma was certain the noise she heard was him bumping into the doorway as his footstep hurriedly left the room. She was mortified. Scrabbling, she finally managed to get Ruby’s top on just in time for Ruby to call him back into the room.

And there he was. The man from the night before, in the bar. She man she’d fantasized about, standing 3 feet in front of her. She wasn’t sure how much of an eyeful she’d given him, but judging by the shade of his ears and the way he was nervously scratching behind one of them, he’d seen plenty.

Well fuck.

Neither of them spoke, and Emma couldn’t help but notice the vivid blue of his eyes had been replaced, only the barest hint of sapphire remaining.

“Killian, this is Emma Swan, my roommate.”

Killian stepped forward, hesitantly stretching his hand out to her.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, lass.”

His hand was rough wrapped around hers, obviously used to manual labor.

“And Emma, this is Killian. He’s in my women’s study class and volunteered to help me out.”

Emma almost thought she was going to get away from more embarrassment, but Ruby wasn’t finished yet. “Or you may remember him from last night. He’s the one whose throat you had your tongue down.”

Emma let out a sound resembling a strangled cat, and Killian didn’t seem to have been faring much better and he coughed in surprise.

“So, if you’ll both take a seat on the couch, we can get started.”

“Started with what, exactly, lass? You were a bit hazy on the details before.”

Well at least Emma wasn’t the only one lost right now.

“Sit.”

Ruby was firm this time and both Emma and Killian elected to sit as far apart from each other as possible, which wasn’t as far away as Emma might have hoped. What was once a spacious couch now felt like a loveseat and she could feel his body heat radiating off of him. The scent of leather and sandalwood danced through the air around her. Even now, in the light of day he was still intoxicating, perhaps even more so now that she could properly see him.

Which is why Emma chose to sit facing straight out instead of turning towards him.

Ruby stood in front of them both, holding what looked like a full package of index cards. The top half were pink while the bottom half blue.

“I don’t want to bore you with the details on what we’re measuring here, but the instructions are fairly straight forward. In my hand, I have a set of questions. You ask each other the questions written on the cards and you must answer honestly. There is no skipping questions.”

Ruby finished with a pointed glare at Emma. Splitting the cards in half, she handed them to both Emma and Killian and started walking to the door.

“I’ll be in the next room and I can see and hear you, but please act as normal as possible.”

With that, she was gone, and Emma found herself stumbling over her words as she tried to read the first questions out loud.

“One. ‘Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?’ You’ve got to be kidding me.”

She heard him little chuckle, but continued to avoid meeting his gaze.

“What’s wrong, love? Not a fan of dinner parties?”

The lilt was just a strong as she remembered it, as Emma found herself unconsciously leaning towards him as he spoke, the lust filled fantasies of him jumped back into her brain.

“Love?”

God. How long had she been day dreaming?

“Not your love. And these questions are stupid.”

“Emma Swan!” Ruby’s voice rang through an intercom somewhere in the room. “The instructions said to answer the questions. The did not say to argue their purpose.”

Felling a mix between annoyed and properly chastised, Emma felt her walls climbing.

“How about I start then, Swan? I’d have to go with my brother.”

“Seriously? You can eat with anyone in the world, even supermodels, and you go with your brother? A man you’ve probably seen everyday of your life?”

She chanced a look at him and saw a storm brewing behind his eyes as he clenched his jaw.

“Aye, your right. I did see him nearly everyday of my life,” he paused for a second, “right up until he died four years ago. I’d give anything to share one last meal with him.”

Fuck.

Not knowing how to respond, Emma decided to press on. She didn’t normally ‘do’ people, and definitely didn’t ‘do’ feelings. Especially not with greek god level strangers that she once managed to jump in a bar, only to make a complete ass of herself twice later on.

“Arthur Koehler.”

“Excuse me?”

“Arthur Koehler. He was one of the pioneers in criminal forensics and actually responsible for catching the guy that kidnapped and killed the Lindbergh baby. He solved the whole case just using a sample of wood, tracking down where the wood had been harvested, milled, and sold even.”

She looked over to see Killian giving her the most quizzical of looks.

“Criminal justice major,” she said, hoping somehow that would explain her fascination with murder.

Killian nodded along before reading out his own card.

“Number two: ‘Would you like to be famous? In what way’?”

The second question was easier, both answering that they’d each be content avoiding the limelight.

The third question had Emma nearly giddy as Killian responded.

Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say? Why?

He hadn’t actually answered - not with words, anyways - but when his cheeks filled with a beautiful shade of rose, Emma knew immediately that the answer was ‘yes’.

“Oh my god. You totally do that don’t you!”

The questions became easier as they went on. There was an odd sense of comradery in having to spill your guts with a complete stranger, even if looking at him made Emma’s stomach do somersaults. It wasn’t until twenty minutes later that the questions started getting more personal, making Emma uncomfortable. If it weren’t for her loyalty to Ruby, she’d have gotten up and left.

“If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?”

Emma didn’t hesitate. “Body.”

She watched as Killian’s head tilted to the side, obviously surprised by her answer.

“I’m not vain or superficial or anything. It’s just, sometimes it might not feel like the worst thing to forget parts of your life.”

Parts like the ex who tried to frame her for theft, or the guy who cheated on her. Parts like the parents who dumped her on the side of the road. Parts like being bounced around from one hellish foster home to the next.

Killian didn’t seem to need her to explain though. Somehow, he just got it, like he could read her. She was an open book to him. His hand moved to rest over hers, and had Ruby not come in at that precise moment, she probably would have found herself in his lap. She’d allowed herself to get so wrapped up that she forgot where she was, or that she didn’t know him.

She jerked her hand back as Ruby informed them they’d have a five minute break. She took the time to wash her face off in the bathroom and recompose herself.

It wasn’t enough. Immediately after the break, the questions got even harder.

If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?

If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living? Why?

How do you feel about your relationship with your mother.

Emma could sense Killian’s hesitation each time he had to ask her a question, especially after she was forced to tell him about her past in excruciating detail. Each new detail she had to give him felt like a knife to the heart. For his part, he hadn’t had the picture perfect life either. His mother had died of cancer when he was seven, then his father took off in the middle of the night when he was twelve. But through it all, he’d had his brother. Emma hadn’t had anyone.

Ruby gave them another break after the second set of questions, and this time Emma chose not to leave the room. There was something calming about Killian’s presence, and although she’d never see him again after the experiment was over, the irony of it not lost on her, she wasn’t ready to give him up just yet.

So for the five minute break, they sat together side by side, thighs brushed up against each other. On more than one occasion his hand had found its way to her leg in an attempt to soothe her. Emma found herself surprised each time he did it, as she never felt the sense to brush him off like she had so many guys before him. Affection wasn’t something she found comforting in a man usually.

Ruby warned them that the final set of questions would push them even more. They’d have to look even deeper into themselves and reveal stuff they’d both kept hidden deep down.

If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven’t you told them yet?

Your house, containing everything you own, catches fire. After saving your loved ones and pets, you have time to safely make a final dash to save any one item. What would it be? Why?

Of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing? Why?

Emma had never felt so alone in her life. Before, she’d always told herself that if she didn’t let people in, she couldn’t be hurt by them, but as the questions continued, she realized that one day she would die, bitter and alone, and she’d only have herself to blame. It was a hard realization.

She hadn’t even noticed the way she’d drifted into Killian, resting her head on his chest as his arms wrapped around her. At least not until Ruby came in again and gave them the final instructions.

Four minutes. They’d have to stare into each other’s eyes for four minutes. No talking. No moving. No looking away. Just four minutes of getting lost in his eyes as she thought back over everything she had told him, and all of the things he shared as well.

He was studying marine engineering so he could build boats after graduation. He had his heart broken by a woman who didn’t tell him she was married until he’d proposed to her. He’d fled England to escape the memories of Milah and Liam. He was kind and loyal. He’d even sang to her in his angelic voice.

And as she stared into his eyes, all she could think about was what it would be like to give him a chance. To wonder if he was worth lowering her walls for. To wonder what could have happened between them if she wasn’t so damn broken inside.

“And that’s it. You guys are done.”

She wasn’t sure what to say or do, so out of instinct the wall rose once more, and Emma left, running away before anyone could stop her. She hadn’t meant to let anyone in, and she was terrified of the fact that she wanted him for something more than just one night. She wanted forever.

When Ruby returned to their apartment, it was hours later. Emma was slightly furious with her for roping her into something she knew was going to be so emotionally draining. They argued for what felt like ages. Emma had kept everything bottled up so tightly for years, that she didn’t know how to close the dam again now that it had been opened. They were barely even on speaking terms when they parted ways to go to bed that night, and when Emma woke again it was late in the morning to an empty apartment.

She had cried herself to sleep and the exhaustion of it all had lingered. Rolling out of bed, she started for the kitchen, but stopped short when she saw an envelope that had been slipped under her door. She didn’t recognize the looped handwriting, but there had only even been one person who called her Swan.

Dear Emma,

Please don’t be too cross with Ruby. This is actually my fault, you see. I’ve noticed you on more than one occasion with the lady Lucas, and having fancied you, I asked her to introduce us. She warned me that your heart would not easily be won, and I fear I may have pushed her too hard as a result. I hadn’t realized the purpose of Ruby’s study until we were half way through it and it was too late to back out. I never meant for any harm to come to you. Please accept my sincerest apologies.

Killian Jones.

It took Emma three days to muster up the courage to find him. Over those three days, thoughts of him had invaded every part of her being. She could still smell him on the top Ruby had loaned her. She could still feel his scruff against her cheek. And worst of all, she could see the way his eyes nearly pooled as she told him about her pathetic past.

It took some searching and some internet stalking, but she had figured out his favorite place was a small little harbor on the outside of town. He’d checked-in to a tiny seaside restaurant about a dozen times the previous month, and posted multiple pictures from the dock outside.

He was sitting alone on a bench overlooking the water. The sun was beginning to set, casting the sky in colors of pink and orange. It was a moment her mind wanted to capture for some reason.

“Mind if I sit?”

If she’d startled him, he gave no indication. He only gesture to the open spot next to him. They sat together, silently taking in the sunset until only the barest hint of a golden halo crested the sky above the water.

“So what was the purpose of the experiment?”

It wasn’t a perfect opening line, but it was safer than blurting out how much she missed him when she hardly even knew him.

“To fall in love.”

There was a pause that seemed to stretch to the end of time.

“It’s this thing I read about in a newspaper. Someone created this list of questions that are so deep and meaningful, that when two strangers answer them to each other, they’re supposed to form a bond. Some people argue that it only causes you to feel affection for the other person, but other believe that you’ll fall in love.”

There was another pause as the last hint of light dipped below the water.

“And did you?”

She felt him stiffen next to her.

“No.” She felt her heart beginning to crack. “No, I promise, I didn’t know that’s what Ruby’s experiment was about until it was too late-”

She cut him off, grabbing his hand in a moment of courage.

“I meant, did you fall in love?”

His tongue came out to wet his bottom lip as he stared out at the water before them.

“I felt affection for you the moment I first saw you. You were amused at something Ruby had said and your laugh was like music to my ears. But I think-” He turned to look her in the eyes. “I think I fell in love you the moment you kissed me. I felt something that I’ll never be able to explain, but I knew, Emma, that I only ever wanted to kiss you from then on out.”

She couldn’t say anything back. She couldn’t tell him that she’d fallen for him over the course of thirty six questions and four minutes. Her walls were still too high, but for the first time ever, she felt ready to start pulling them down, brick by brick. So when she kissed him again, it was to show him all of the things she couldn’t say just yet. It was to show him that she loved him too.

#36 questions #wellhellotragic #happy belated bday Salem #I can't write fluff #cs ff #thanks for eating the cut line tumblr

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maximumsuckage · 7 years ago

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Dreamscape

Description: Gabriel slumbers in the Empty for all eternity, and one day he dreams of Sam. Word Count: 2162 Link to Part 2: https://maximumsuckage.tumblr.com/post/167214892622/dreamscape-part-2

Sam had nightmares.

This was something he knew about himself and his brother, and he also knew there was no way to stop it, besides sleeping drugs. On a basic level, he knew investing in a prescription might be a good idea, but the idea of putting himself under artificially and being unaware scared him more than the nightmares, so he refrained. It was just the results of some undiagnosed PTSD, he told himself, something he could ignore. They weren’t real, after all. And he didn’t wake up screaming (like Dean did, sometimes), so he wasn’t disturbing anyone else, and he could generally put himself back to sleep after a brisk walk around whatever block they were staying on and a glass of icy water.

Normally there were faces from the past, Jess and Ruby and Bobby and Charlie… Castiel… there were demons and angels… Lucifer popped up all the time, with that stupid smug smirk like a cat looking at a mouse. They were blood-drenched images, disjointed, that left him breathless with tears in his eyes, unaware that he was sleeping and unable to help even as his loved ones screamed.

But this… this was different.

Sam stood in a darkened room. No… not a room. A cave, maybe, but a vast one, where darkness hid the boundaries. Underneath him was a floor, perhaps, but when he looked down he could see nothing, only a reflection of the darkness above him. It was as though there was nothing there. And yet, and yet he could see himself just fine, could see the details of his hands and legs looking down, like he was standing in a brightened room.

He was dreaming, he knew on a very fundamental level, but this was something he’d never dreamt before, or, if he had, he’d forgotten.

With lack of anything else to do, he began to walk. He was walking on a surface, perhaps, but if he looked, there was nothing there. He got the feeling he could just fall through the floor, like a paper thin sheet of ice, and that thought gave him a sense of vertigo so powerful that he swayed and fell to one knee. If he fell, who would catch him? Would he land, or simply keep falling?

Woah, there.

It was a voice that was many and none, that was and wasn’t. It was the hiss of a snake, the bark of a wolf, the whisper of death, and yet was a laugh and a cry and a world-weariness that encompassed the ideas of something very, very old.

Sam looked up, and had to look back down, for now he was looking at something vast, and island of fire and light in the darkness of this nothing-world, something, that, when he looked through eyes shielded by his hands, was slowly breathing. A great chest rose and fell so slowly it could have been his imagination, and the barest impression of ribs told Sam this was something vast and alive.

He stumbled back a few steps from the being, and then looked again. His eyes were beginning to adjust to the light now, which was dimmer than it should have been, Sam decided. Great wings curled around the body, which itself was curled into itself. He could see the tips of ears that suggested something canine in the face, but the snout and eyes were tucked under a wing. A great paw was stretched towards Sam, the only limb that stuck out, and feathers fine as hair glimmered in dull shades of gold all over the foot. A forked tail, scaled in gold leaf and feathered at the end, curled around the body, resting over the paw.

Sam tried to circle the body, but it was too vast, too convoluted and curled up like an animal sleeping for him to make out details. There were oddities about it, extra limbs that bent and folded underneath, bits that shimmered and vanished and reformed, odd slits reminiscent of closed eyelids that seemed to reappear in different places. It hurt Sam’s eyes, and he had to look away every few minutes.

He should have been afraid. This was something purely inhuman, so unnatural, that it should have made his stomach turn, and yet he only felt… nothing.

Samuel William Winchester.

It was the voice again, and this time, Sam thought it came from the giant, slumbering beast, and yet it still didn’t move. Except-

Near the neck, there was a movement, and the head of a golden serpent appeared, poking its nose out from under another wing. It blinked blearily at Sam, shook itself a moment, resting atop the wolf ears, which flicked in irritation.

Sam decided that he should run, except now his feet were stuck in place, like now his brain remembered that he was dreaming, and froze him.

“That’s me,” he said, and his voice was impossibly tiny next to the slumbering form, which he decided was a good thing. Though he felt no fear, he had a sense that he should, and waking the beast wholly was definitely a bad idea. Probably something Dean would do.

The snake slithered, clumsy and drowsy, closer to him. Different parts of the creature shimmered, wings moved like something underneath was moving them. It seemed the golden serpent was wrapped around the wolfish beast, and yet Sam had no doubt that it was all one creature, with the certainty that was granted only by a dream.

It paused, head near Sam, golden eyes drifting shut again, and then shook itself. I am dreaming.

Sam frowned. “Hate to break it to you, but I’m the one dreaming here.”

No, no, I’m definitely asleep here. It’s hard… Look, I’m trying, okay. Shut up.

Shocked at being told to shut up by an eldritch thing big as an island, Sam shut up. The serpent slithered closer, and Sam could see that there were horns of feathers on its head, great intelligence in those golden eyes. But something was wrong- the scales around its eyes were warped, twisted, discolored. Burned. The marring burned Sam’s eyes as well, and he had to look away.

Now it was close enough to smell, though there was still a distance of half a football field between them, which seemed impossibly small next to the girth of the being. It was the smell of ozone, the same acrid aroma that hung in the air each time an angel took off or landed, but it was also the smell of snow on a sunny winter day, of a burnt marshmallow at a campfire surrounded by friends, of metal and blood on the battlefield. It was a smell that simultaneously brought Sam back to childhood nights with Dean, and made him want to run as fast and far away as possible.

So he tried, but no matter how much his head screamed, his legs wouldn’t move. The closest he came to was falling to his knees.

The snake paused, still struggling to stay awake, and the visible wolf ears flicked in irritation. The snake shook itself again, and said, Wait… don’t be afraid.

Sam stared at the ground, at the emptiness far below him.

Don’t be afraid, the snake said, and this time the wolf stirred, though it didn’t open its eyes. For I bring you tidings of great joy… fuck, I forgot the lines, but you get the memo.

Sam did not get the memo. Sam remained where he was kneeling, brain screaming to run but body disregarding. Dream physics kept him glued where he was, under the snake. Adrenaline swam through his blood and made lights flash in front of his eyes and his heart pound.

C’mon, Dream-Sammy, don’t be like that. That’s so human. There was a pleading to the voice, but also a tone of mocking, that seemed to only come from the feelings in Sam’s head. You know me. I mean, granted, you probably hate me, but hey, we had some good times, didn’t we?

“I don’t know you.” Sam’s voice came through clenched teeth, addressed to the ground. He could not look up. He could not bear the horrible scars on the snake’s face. “I’ve never met you. I would have remembered something…” As great? As terrible? He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to offend the beast, or wake it completely.

There was silence, and a general emotion hung in the air… something deep, a sadness that brought tears to Sam’s eyes. That’s cool. Whatever. I get. Humans today aren’t what they used to be.

Sam remained silent, mouth open, trying to get air into his lungs. This was too much. This was so far over his head that he couldn’t comprehend it…

This dream sucks. I liked the ones with the hot chicks and the candy. Let’s go back to that one.

Something clicked. A pathway in Sam’s brain triggered.

No, like, this seriously blows. I mean, you’re hot and all, but if you’re just gonna cower in fear… The snake drifted back towards the body, eyes already closing. Sam felt the world tilt. The light began to fade. The being was dreaming him, and it was going into deeper sleep, and he was disintegrating. Already, he could feel the heaviness of blankets as he returned to his own body…

“Gabriel.”

The empty darkness shot back into technicolor darkness, and now both the snake and the wolf and something that had been buried under a wing and was vaguely human shaped by had too many eyes were looking at him. It was bright, and Sam had to blink away tears of pain, but he didn’t break eye contact. Silence hung in between them, and then the human-esque head buried itself under a wing again, back to sleep, while the wolf struggled to keep its gold eyes open.

Wow, that only took you, like, a thousand years. The not-voice was mocking.

“It is you.” Sam bit his tongue, and stood. His legs were still wobbly, but-

Mmf, get back on your knees.

And it was such a suggestive, lewd statement, accompanied by the raise of scarred, snakey-eyebrows, that there was no way that it wasn’t the Trickster.

Feeling a bit bolder, Sam took a few steps closer. “This is your true form. You, as an archangel.”

The snake was silent, and wings curled tighter around its body, looking almost embarrassed. Feels naked without a meat suit, after this long.

There was a shimmer, and the being vanished, replaced by a smaller, golden eyed man who kept rubbing his eyes, like he was going to fall asleep where he stood. The sudden empty space hit Sam’s head like a bag of bricks and he swayed, but didn’t fall this time. “Hey, kiddo,” the man said, tilting his head as he tried to focus on Sam’s face. “Welcome to my final resting place.”

“Gabriel, I…” Sam didn’t know what he meant to say. He was sorry? He was still pissed? “You’re dead,” he finally said.

Gabriel shrugged. “Angel blade’ll do that to a guy.”

Sam hesitated again, not sure. He got the sense that they didn’t have much time- Gabriel was rubbing his face, trying to stay alert, and Sam’s dream sense told him that if the archangel fell asleep again, he would vanish, back to the world of the living.

“Thanks,” he finally decided on. “For fighting your brother for us. It helped… I mean, he’s back now, and now he’s gone again, but we have his kid-”

“His kid?” That jerked Gabriel more awake. The darkness around Sam became more vivid as Gabriel took greater control over the dream. “There’s a Nephilim?” He swayed slightly, and shook his head. “I need… I should help him…” His voice trailed off, and he looked like he was about to faint, eyes going unfocused. Then he shook himself again. “Hey, look… kid needs to learn his powers. Um… look for Hel. She’ll help.” He swayed again, stumbling, and caught Sam’s arms for support.

Sam looked down at the archangel, who was now leaning against his chest, eyes closed. The darkness seemed to fade, and if Sam squinted, he could see the details of his bedroom. “Gabriel! Who is that?”

Gabriel gave him a dull-eyed look. “Not Gabriel. Loki.” He swayed, eyes closing again, and then gestured at Sam to lean down, like he was about to whisper a secret.

Sam obeyed, and, with a sudden outburst of strength, Gabriel tangled his fingers in Sam’s hair and pulled him down more, kissing his mouth hard and hungry, a kiss of teeth and tongue that made Sam gasp in surprise.

He woke up, the imprint of a mouth still on his, and lay staring at the ceiling, gasping. And then he got up, threw on a sweatshirt, and hastened to the library, keywords bouncing in his mind. Gabriel. Loki. Hell- or Hel, with one L.

A death goddess. Daughter of Loki.

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yoongihime · 8 years ago

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for husband yoongi, how about him trying to distract you or get a lil naughty (eyes emoji) when you're trying to do something important or your daughter is asleep? ily sassiboo

(3/?) Husband!Yoongi Drabbles Just a tad bit more naughty fluff for my sinners Word Count: 938Recommended OST: (x)(a/n): they don’t want me to be a fluffy pure, cinnabun& ily2 darling (O///O)

Yoongi loves calling you his.

He loves it when you’re dressed to the nines, scarlet dress hugging the curves of your body tight and ruby lips just begging for him to ruin and smear with a firm kiss. He loves it when you’re simply lounging at home in nothing but an oversized T-shirt and one of your many running shorts, chasing after Min Ah because she’s too stubborn for her nap time. But perhaps most of all, Yoongi loves it when you’re immersed in your work, your hair sitting delicately in a messy bun and your posture balanced despite the hours of toil sitting on your shoulders. He’s currently pretending to be occupied with his novel, but his mind is elsewhere as his orbs greedily drinks in the image of you typing away at your laptop. Lips caught and eyes drooping, you’re still a picture of perfect beauty for Yoongi whose desire to interrupt your work seems to only augment as the hours tick by and he’s just at the end of his rope when-

“Momma, Min Ah is sleepy.”

Min Ah is standing by the door frame of his and your shared bedroom, her hands in tiny fists, vigorously trying to rub the tireless out of her eyes. You dressed her in her white and purple stripped pajamas tonight, which drags on the ground slightly since the pants are still a bit too big on her petite frame. Tucked in between the crook of her left arm is her favorite teddy bear, the cream colored fur already dingy from years of use.

“Okay darling, Momma will put you to bed. Go give Daddy a kiss goodnight.” you reply, smiling softly at her as she patters into the room, giggling at her tiny oomph of effort as she tries to climb up the tall mahogany bed frame. Yoongi places his novel down and pulls the struggling toddler up to join him on his lap, puffing out his left cheek and closing his eyes as she leans in to kiss him with a loud smack. He generously returns the kiss on both her cheeks and picks her up princess style, running out out of the room with her squeals of delight trailing behind him. By the time you join Yoongi in her room she’s already tucked in her bed, forehead sticking out just enough for you to place a kiss goodnight on the tender skin.

“Goodnight, honey bear.” you murmur, her lids already dropping shut. Her wispy lashes kiss the peachy skin of her cheeks as she enters Dreamland. You’re admiring them and the way they remind you of Yoongi’s lashes when the man himself laces two arms around your form, pulling you closer to his body.

“Baby…” he drawls, the raspy quality of his voice colored with hints of neediness and you can already feel your heartbeat accelerating—you’d know this tone anywhere. Funny how you still feel like a giddy adolescent every time Yoongi is remotely intimate with you, years of marriage never wore out the honeymoon lust from your system. Yoongi seems just as affected, his soft breaths turning labored when you press yourself into him in return.

“Hmm?” you hum, amused at the way he groans and kisses his way up the base of your neck, up and up until he reaches the lines of your jaw. He pauses there for a playful nip and continues upwards to place yet another nip at your earlobe, “Don’t play. Please. I need you.” he sighs. However, his whine of dismay follows you into your shared bedroom when you pull away from him, arms searching to fit themselves around you again.

You let him sulk as you jiggle the cursor around, rousing your laptop to quickly hit Control+S, saving whatever you were working on for later and slipping the screen close with a quiet click. Yoongi immediately perks at this, smug smile already tugging at his lips and god, you’d be lying if this cocky smirk doesn’t make your head spin and your stomach fill with butterflies without fail every time.

“Are my eye bags that much of a turn on Min Yoongi?” you laugh into the kiss he hungrily steals from your lips, messy and rushed.

“Yes,” he replies, dead serious, “I love them because it means you’re working hard for your dream and mine.” he places a kiss on both your eyelids and laughs at your surprise.

“You’re incredibly sexy. When you’re dressed up or dressed down, I still want you nonetheless.”

Speechless, you let his hands on your hips guide you closer to him and press your lips against his, feeling the sincerity between his whispered confessions.

Yoongi manages to flip you onto the bed, his frame hovering above yours when you find your voice again,

“You know you don’t have to try so hard to get into my pants Min Yoongi, I’m your wife.” you giggle when his breath tickles our bare stomach, kissing the marks left there from your loving daughter.

“Nothing wrong with a man telling his wife she’s the hottest thing on the planet Min (y/n).” he chuckles, feeling your hands card through his strands as his kisses lower towards your thighs, so close yet so far from where you need him the most.

“Were you always this cheesy?” you keen when his slips your panties to the side, his tongue roughly swiping at your dripping entrance.

“Only for you, sweetheart.” Yoongi replies with the most boyish grin and let himself get lost in lust and lost in you.

You love being his.

He loves calling himself yours.

#kwritersnet #btswriters #bts scenarios #yoongi scenarios #yoongi #bts #suga #my sugar #yoongi bear #HAHHAHHAHAhHHAHAHa IM GONNA COMBUST #THESE SCENARIOS ARE GONNA FWEDKBF3KJWEDFEJW DROWN ME IN FLUFF #husband!Yoongi drabbles #SCREAM WITH ME #IDK WHY IM LIKE THIS BUT I AM OH MY GOD I NEED TO WORK ON OTHER S #BUT I LOVE HUSBAND YOONGI #I HAVE SO MANY DAYDREAMS OF HIM IM GONNA DIE

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c-rankin93 · 7 years ago

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SHE'S NO YOU - Ch.3

A/N: This chapter is more about family as you soon will tell. And you get to see a sneak peek into Finns head. --- CHAPTER THREE: SMILE FOR THE CAMERA --- RAE POV: "He did what!" I was currently at my parents house in Hoboken, New Jersey lounging out in the family room with my eldest brother Robert. My parents were playing in the backyard with the grandkids except my eldest nephew Tomas who was in the kitchen with his mother Maria- Robert's wife of 20 years. Robert was the only one of my three brothers that still resided in New York, as a Family Lawyer he took his job very seriously. He help me with my divorce and the custody battle I had to endure during Finn and I's separation. He was (and still is) overly protective of me. He and Finn had been great friends, and over the years we took family vacations together. But the moment I finally revealed what happened between Finn and I, he became even more overbearing, and even vengeful towards a certain someone. I guess he was hurt, a friendship destroyed and a little sister broken. It was a beautiful disaster. Julian the second oldest is currently living in San Francisco with his four year old son Parker. He went through a nasty breakup from his ex-wife Becca 6 months ago after finding out she was embezzling money into an off sore account of her estranged lover. His small doctors practice nearly went bankrupt due to the money loss but our parents stepped in and helped him financially to stay afloat. Becca was currently serving an 8 Year sentence in prison and her mysterious lover disappeared with nearly $500,000. He decided to stay in San Francisco and continue on with the life he built with his son, but frequently visited New York. Mark, the youngest of my brothers was also over the other side of America as well, pursuing his dream in Los Angeles. He packed up and left straight after high-school with the families support to become an actor. Over the years he has done well for himself, after staring in small commercials, then he moved on to TV drama, before getting his big break at 26. He stared as the supporting roll in one of Hollywood's greatest movies. He got noticed, then got famous. He kept to his bachelor life style, and I didn't ask him about the different women he was photographed with. I had just explained to Robert what had happened this morning over breakfast and what Olivia had said to me. To say he was mad was an understatement, he had practically choked on his beer the moment I told him about my uninvited guests. "Yeah well I can't stop him from seeing Josh on his birthday can I? But did he really need to bring her?" Robert understood my emotions. He was the only one out of my entire family that knew what really happened, between Finn and I. "Yes you damn well can Rae! That is your house, your property and if you don't want someone there you can tell them to leave. Invite Finn in sure but kindly remind him to leave his baggage at the door" Robert fumed and I couldn't help the laugh that escaped my lips. "I'm seriously Rae, don't let him walk all over you! That asshole needs to be taken down a peg or two" I sighed knowing that the more I talked about the situation, the more angry my brother would get. So in true Rae fashion I changed the subject. "So anyways! Are you excited about Tomas starting collage next year?" My eighteen year old nephew was a prodigy of his old man. I knew one day he would be a brilliant lawyer and husband, it was just a matter of time. Robert beamed and the mention of his eldest boy. "Of course! The kid got into Harvard for fuck sakes" he laughed, "not even I did that well. I tell you what, I can't wait to see him successfully one day". That was just typical Robert, he was the kindest man you would ever meet but if you messed with his family he would back hand you quicker then a women at a black Friday sale. "You know Elissa and Emery are going to be artist just like there momma" his daughters Elissa, 15, and Emery, 10, were splitting images of there beautiful mother Maria. Both had dark chocolate hair and golden brown eyes, they could never do anything wrong in Robert's eyes because they looked to much like their mother. Who was a pretty well known artist in New York, both girls had talent but in different areas. Elissa enjoyed painting faces and was brilliant at it, she has won numerous awards at school. And Emery loves mixing colour, some would call it abstract but to her it was just pure fun. "I've got my work cut out with them don't I?" Robert mused taking a long swig from his beer bottle before sitting it down on the coffee table. "No, more like you've got your work cut out with Robert junior over there" I pointed wards the glass doors that looked out into the backyard just as the Feisty little 7 year old crash tackled his grandpa with the help of Ruby who was laughing along. "Military school" he mumbled. I laughed, little Robert had always been upto no good, but he did it in the most innocent way. "Come on" I slapped Robert's leg then stood up to stretch, "we better go join the others instead of having our bitch and moan session. I'm sure mom is running around out there with her new camera trying to take photos". Laughing, we reminst about the first few weeks after Karim had brought her the camera, let's just say she went through two 16 gig memory cards, and hundreds of dollars worth of prints. -- I kissed the top of ruby's head, her eyes were already fluttering shut which didn't surprise me. Flicking off the light, then walked out of the room. Goodnight my princess. I walked down the hallway to Josh's room and poked my head in. He had already passed out, soft snores echoed in the room. I quickly tucked him in, kissing his soft brown hair. Goodnight my little man. Today was a big day, after the little spat I had with Finn the rest of the day went off without a hitch. Ice skating was a blast with Chloe, and her kids, Harry and Stephen. It was the first time in years I had stepped foot on ice and having two little humans depend on me to keep them upright was quite amusing. After that we had a nice long walk through central park before dinner and cake at mom and Karim's house. They kids had enjoyed the company of their 4 cousins, and I couldn't help but smile at how close they were. It made me wonder if they were as close with Finn's family as they were mine, especially Finn's 4 year old neice Sophia. I grabbed an ice cold beer out of the refrigerator and possistioned my rear end nicely on my plush couch. I chose to leave on whatever TV show that was already on, and continued watching without paying attention to what was happening. As the credits rolled by I heard a loud knock on the door. Sighing, I took the last few sips of my beer and shuffled towards the door. Gregory was standing there with a dopey smile on his face and a large blue box in his hand. He bent over and gave me a peck on the lips. A smile curved on my face the moment he wrapped his arms around me. We walked back toward the couch, not leaving an inch of space between us. He bent forward placing the blue box on the table quickly and wound is arms back around me. "How was your day beautiful?" Gregory whispered nibbling on my ear lobe. "It was good! Joshua had a great day and passed out as soon as he got back home. How was your day?" I replied choosing to keep my encounter with Finn out of it. "Oh it was fine, sold a penthouse in Manhattan today. It came with a nice fat commission to which I plan on spending on you. Maybe a weekend to Hawaii?" He continued to kiss my neck. "Oohh... well maybe one day we can enjoy that lovely vacation. And thank you again for today! I know you wanted to enjoy Joshua's birthday with us but thank you for letting me have this time with th-". He kissed me softly on the lips to shut me up, no doubt I was rambling on once again. "Its fine sweetheart. I got a sale and you got time with your kids, Plus we have tomorrow. And tonight..." he wiggled his eyebrows and licked his lips. My body was dragged upon his and our lips crashed together. It had been weeks since we had last had sex and I was more then ready for him. I needed him right now, I needed to forget for a moment, I needed to feel that earth shattering orgasm. I needed to feel human again. -- FINN POV: I had dragged myself from the comfort of my silk sheets at 5am this morning. Olivia had managed to stick to her side of the bed last night thank God, I hated waking up with her short blonde hair tickling my face. Putting on my joggers and a t-shirt I laced up my sneakers and walked towards the kitchen to have a quick shake before heading to the gym down stairs in my apartment. This was my Daily accurance, I needed to exercise before I sat in my office all day behind paper work and my laptop. Running my own company was hard work, long hours and no sleep. I had been living this way since I graduated college, the only balance I once had in my life were my kids and wife. But now that had all changed because of Rachel. We had just gotten back from Aspen Monday night after I had taken Olivia and her God awful family away for her birthday. I had nearly cancelled after the ruckus Olivia had caused with Rae in front of my kids on my son's birthday, but I knew if I did that the nagging would increase and i wasn't in the mood for that. I stepped onto the treadmill and started off at a walking pace, letting my muscles warm. Her beautiful face flashed though my head, her creamy skin, the hairpin curve of her plump lips, her button nose, her silk like hair- fuck! My body tumbled to the ground hard, I had missed a step which caused me to trip all because I was thinking about her. Not my girlfriend that laid asleep in my sheets, but my ex-wife. Pulling my legs to my body in frustration and leading my elbows on my knees I looked to the ceiling still thinking about her. Over two years since I had touched her intimately, kissed her lips... My heart still ached everytime I saw her, but I couldn't show her how much she ruined me. No, instead I channelled that built up frustration into pure hate towards Rae. I couldn't help it, she took away my kids, my life, my fucking air. I groaned picking myself up of the hard floor and turned off the treadmill. I made my way over towards the boxing bag, forgoing the gloves I collided my fist hard into the bag. Memories of the night my world came apart washed over me, it was a disease I couldn't fight. 'Rae, honey. I'm home' Smack! My fist collided with the solid leather. I felt nothing. 'Rae?' Smack! 'Kids?' Smack! 'Hello? Anyone home?' Smack! Smack! Smack! Then I distinctly remember the words scribbled on a yellow post-it note in Rae's hand writing, along with the divorce papers. 'Fuck you' Smack! --- Grimacing I looked at the paperwork that had piled up in front of me, red tags with sign here scribbled across them poked out. It would take me all day just to read all the new contracts I was taking on in the new year and according to Olivia my deadline was only 4 hours away. "Olivia" I buzzed through the intercom. "Can you ring Archie and tell him to come to my office immediately". "Of course Finny" she replied. A grimace shuttered through me. It was a nickname she had picked up just after we started dating, it was a habit I thought she would break but I was beginning to loose hope. No more then 15 minutes later Archie lazily strolled through the door not even bothering to knock. "I was summoned" he announced grinning. "Yeah, clear your schedule. I need you to help me read through these contracts so I can sign them off. Apparently Liv decided to leave this to the last minute and I have-" I looked towards my watch. "3 hours and 44 minutes to get them done before they are sent to your department to be organised into financial groups" I signed. It was only 9am and I was already exhausted, I had no idea how I was going to finish this in the time frame I had. There was atleast 40 small business contracts to sort through, but if there was anyone I knew that could help me it would be my brother, Archie. "Fuck man! Why do you let her do this shit?" He groaned typing away on his phone, no doubt messaging his assistant Charleene about the turn of events. "Don't start" I growled flipping a page before signing. "I'm just sayin-" "Enough!" I yelled slamming my hands down on my desk. "Christ Arch, I know Ohkay... I know". "Look I'm sorry I shouldn't of said it, but your not happy man. You haven't been since-" he stopped before he finished, no doubt he saw the pain flash through my eyes. Archie picked up a contract and started to flick through it, awkward tension permeated the air. To say my family where welcoming of Olivia was an understatement. They had all adored Rae, especially my parents who treated her like a daughter. When they asked me what caused the divorce all I could do was shrug, I had no fucking idea so what was I to tell them. They took my silence as an admission that I had fucked up somewhere, that I had wronged her but all I did was love and cherish that women. Of course Ma and Archie had tried to contact Rae but she had obviously blocked their numbers, after 4 months they gave up trying just like I did, when bent Olivia over my desk and fucked her. That was the night I finally understood that my marriage was over, the life I knew before was gone and the women I loved more then life itself had left. "Since my wife left me?" "Finn" my brother sighed, rubbing his hand through his hair. "Have you even asked her why she left?". I shook my head in honesty. I had tried to talk to her but my pain turned into misery, my grief turned into anger and the only way i could express myself was by yelling at her. "Maybe you should" Archie replied, picking up another contract. "You don't think I have? I tried for months to get her to talk to me. The most I got was a slap to the face and her repeating how vile I am. Fuck, I don't know what happened. I-... It been 2 years and I still love her..." "You have the kids tonight right?" I nodded. "Well when you drop them off talk to her..." Thats better said then done I thought. --- @i-dream-of-emus @milllott @eveerez @lily-pop-2 @arathewallflower @hey1tskat1e @I88cym @mmfdfanfic

#MMFD #mymadfatloveforfinn #mymad fat diary #my mad fat diary #my mad fat fandom #fan fiction #mmfdfanfic #fanfic #Rae #Finn

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the-awkward-writer · 8 years ago

Text

No One Like You

Pairings: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k (including lyrics)

Warnings: so much fluff it will give you cavities, a tiny, tiny, tiny bit of angst, swearing

A/N: This is my entry for @impalaimagining‘s 3k Followers Challenge/Sam Winchester Birthday Challenge! You don’t understand how much I giggled while writing this. It’s so fluffy you’re gonna die. The song I chose was No One by Alicia Keys, and the quote is in bold in the fic, so it is easy to find. Any and all mistakes are mine.

A/N/N: I wrote this while watching the Harry Potter weekend on Freeform, so that would be the reason for the references...

Song: No One: Alicia Keys

Quote: “There’s something about this girl that I can’t quite put my finger on.”

I just want you close Where you can stay forever You can be sure That it will only get better

You knew you were in for the long haul when you felt the butterflies fighting each other in your stomach whenever you saw Sam Winchester walk into a room.

Although, you technically couldn’t be in it for the long haul, considering you weren’t even dating him.

You were sitting in a dingy motel room on a thin and lumpy bed, trying to gather any information you could about the case.

You had been searching for over six hours, but you weren’t able to come up with anything.

“I’m telling you Dean,” Sam said as he burst through the door, “You really should start eating healthier. It’s much better than the awful bacon cheeseburgers you always eat.”

You didn’t miss the butterflies that were fighting a third world war in your stomach when Sam arrived.

Dean looked disgusted, “Who are you?”

“Sam fucking Winchester,” Sam shot back, making you snort slightly.

Sam sent you a smile, silently thanking you for laughing at his sad attempt at a joke.

Dean dropped two white paper bags on the table, ignoring his brother, he turned to you and said, “I brought you some food.”

You gave him a soft smile, “Thanks, Dean-o, but I’m not hungry right now. I’m just going to go to sleep.”

Dean scowled at the nickname, but nodded in understanding. You had been working on research for hours on end with no break.

“Sweet dreams,” he said sarcastically as you closed your laptop and settled under the covers, quickly falling asleep despite how uncomfortable the bed was.

Sam looked over at you and chuckled. You passed out immediately, sprawled out on your stomach, lightly snoring.

Dean chose that moment to look at his brother. He instantly noticed the heart eyes Sam was shooting in your direction.

“You’re in love with her,” Dean said flatly.

Sam almost gave himself whiplash with how fast his head snapped in Dean’s direction. “N-No I-I’m not.”

Dean almost laughed at his brother’s sudden inability to speak properly. “Even I can tell you’re in love with her, and according to her, I’m the most oblivious person on the planet.”

Sam ran his hand over the back of his neck, something he did when he was stuck in an awkward situation, “I don’t know if it’s love, Dean. It’s just that there’s something about this girl that I can’t quite put my finger on.”

“You need to tell her,” Dean said, trying to catch his brother’s eye.

“She probably doesn’t feel the same way. She barely even looks at me.”

Dean scoffed, “That’s because ninety-eight percent of the time you aren’t looking when she’s staring, and vice versa.”

Sam sighed and turned his attention to his food, “There’s no need to lie to me to make me feel better,” Sam said with a grimace.

Dean threw his hands in the air. He was so close to shaking you awake, leaving for the night and not coming back until you and Sam had worked things out.

“Fucking idiot,” Dean grumbled as he shoveled a few fries into his mouth. “The both of you.”

You and me together Through the days and nights I don't worry 'cause Everything's going to be alright People keep talking they can say what they like But all I know is everything's going to be alright

Unlike Sam and Dean, you didn’t grow up in the hunting life. You entered the life when your entire family was killed by a group of 5 djinns.

You were only 16.

You met Sam and Dean when you were 19. Sam was 22 at the time, and Dean was 26. You bonded easily with both boys, quickly becoming a part of their team.

Although you loved Dean like a brother, you felt differently for the younger, taller, Winchester brother.

Sam was different in so many ways. He was someone that you could share all of your insecurities, problems, and secrets with. And you trusted him to not tell a single soul. And vice versa. He confided in you when he was struggling with Jess, and the trials, and Ruby.

You would never dream of telling anyone about the things he told you.

Another way that Sam was different was because of generally how comfortable you were around him.

Not only were you able to confide in the man, but you could always trust him to be your best friend. He would be there when you needed him, and give you the advice you needed when you were at a loss.

However, even though you were a grown ass woman, you did watch your family die, and your mind still insisted on replaying the image again and again every few nights. Those nights you would would need more than just advice to help you through the night.

When you would wake from a nightmare, your clothes would be soaked through with a cold sweat, your heart racing in your rib cage, and your chest heaving with the effort of keeping up with your racing heart.

No matter the day, things you did before bed, amount of exercise you got that day, to the things you ate, you’d have the same nightmare. Your parents and siblings dying over and over again right in front of your eyes, and there was nothing that you can do about it no matter how hard you tried.

In those moments, you’d untangle the sheet from your legs, get on a fresh pair of pajamas, and make your way down the cold hallway to Sam’s room.

You’d open the door slightly, a beam of light coming in through the door would land on Sam’s face pulling him from his light slumber.

He would jump and grab the gun under his pillow; he could only see you silhouette.

You’d put your hands up, “It’s just me, Sammy,” your voice would crack from sleep.

He would immediately stuff the gun back under his pillow, “Same nightmare?”

You would nod and make your way over his bed. He’d turn on to his side and make room for you and open his arms for you to settle into.

Tucking yourself into his side, you breathe in deep, finally getting your heart rate to slow. “Yeah.”

Sam would wrap his arms around you, creating a barrier between you and the outside world. While in Sam’s arms, you knew that you were safe. While in Sam’s arms you knew the nightmares couldn’t reach you. You know you’d have a dreamless, restful sleep.

The two of you wouldn’t say anything else unless you initiated the conversation. You would just listen to his steady heart rate and breathing, falling asleep quickly.

The next morning you would thank Sam at breakfast; you wouldn’t see him before hand because he would be out jogging. In response he would kiss your forehead, “Anytime,” he’d say.

Those nights were what made you fall even more in love with him.

When the rain is pouring down And my heart is hurting You will always be around This I know for certain

Not only did Sam help you through rough times, but you helped him.

For example, the rather nasty break up he had with Amelia.

It wasn’t exactly nasty per se, but it sure did do a number on the strong hunter’s heart.

Sam would toss and turn all night only getting an hour or so of sleep once his body finally shut down from exhaustion. He would be thinking about Amelia and the dog he left. Boy is he glad that her father can’t find him.

When thee little voices in his head became particularly rude, Sam would find you to help calm him.

Most times, he would be on the verge of tears with the things his own mind would saying to him.

He would shuffle sluggishly down the hallway to your room and open the door, much like you would do to him.

Much like Sam’s initial reaction, you would sit up, gun pointed at Sam’s chest, “It’s just me, Y/N. It’s Sam.”

You would throw your gun on the nightstand and scoot over.

During the nights that Sam sought out your comfort, his head would be on your chest while you ran a hand through his hair.

“You having trouble sleeping?” you would whisper.

Sam would nod. He would talk if he wanted to, but you usually didn’t press the subject. You would just hold him, letting him know that you were here for him if he needed you.

You would curl your legs up slightly, and if Sam was having an especially rough night, he would bring his legs up under yours and wrap his arms around your torso, almost as if he was trying to escape into your body.

Your heartbeat would lull him to sleep, and his steady breathing would help you settle back down.

In the morning, it was usually you who woke up first. However, most times, during the night Sam would shift himself to be half on your body, half on the bed, making it impossible for you to move without waking him up.

Instead of waking your best friend, you would simply wait there, and run your hands through his hair.

Since Sam was an early riser, he would be up not long after you, “Thank you for last night, he would mumble in your ear.

“Don’t mention it,” you would say. But in reality, it was the hardest thing you ever had to do, watch him leave your bed and not come back unless he needed you.

Those were the nights that Sam fell more in love with you.

“Harry Potter,” is all you say as you head into the bunker, making a beeline for your room.

Sam looks confused and drops his bag at the bottom of the stairs, “What about Harry Potter?” he calls out to you, but doesn't get an answer.

Dean sighs heavily, “If you two are going to nerd out all day, then I’m leaving,” Dean pointed to his little brother.

As if on cue, you walked down the hallway in your pajamas, with three blankets and the entire Harry Potter movie collection in your hand.

“Yup,” Dean said and grabbed his keys, “I’m leaving. Feel free to sing Hedwig’s Theme as loud as you want,” Dean grumbled.

As the bunker door clanged shut, you turned to Sam. “How did he know it was called Hedwig’s Theme?”

“He’s a closeted nerd,” Sam shrugged before scurrying off to change into a pair of his own pajamas.

Every once in a while, either you or Sam would be very stressed about the outside world, so one of you would suggest a Harry Potter movie marathon. Dean always left the two of you to pig out on junk food and nerd out to your hearts content.

As Sam made his way back down the hallway, he smelled popcorn coming from the kitchen.

He stopped in the doorway, “Are you ready to spend the next nineteen hours and thirty eight minutes crying, fangirling and nerding out?”

“You bet your ass I am,” you said and turned around to empty two bags of popcorn into the giant salad bowl on the counter.

Sam laughed as he grabbed the bowl from your hands, leading the way to the couch.

Sam settled down n the couch, grabbing the fluffiest blanket and throwing it over his legs. You inserted Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone into the DVD player, racing back to the couch and snuggling up to Sam.

Sam laughed, throwing some popcorn into his mouth.

“Let the marathon commence!” You exclaimed.

Halfway through Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire Sam looked over to see you snoring lightly against his side.

You were never able to make it all the way through the marathon.

Sam leaned over and placed a kiss to your forehead, “I love you, Y/N.”

Sam had never said it to your face while you were conscious; that task was just too daunting. Saying it to you while you were asleep was a lot easier to handle.

Sam shifted your body slightly so your head was on his shoulder.

Sam closed his eyes, falling asleep quickly.

No one, no one, no one Can get in the way of what I'm feeling No one, no one, no one Can get in the way of what I feel for you, you, you Can get in the way of what I feel

"C’mon Y/N!” Sam yelled at you, “You need to stay awake!”

You cried out as Dean ran over a pothole, “I’m too tired, Sammy.”

“I don’t care, stay awake!”

Dean sped down the highway toward the nearest hospital as you bled out from a stab wound in the backseat.

You closed your eyes, you ere just so tired.

“No, no, no,” Sam’s large hands captured your face, “Stay with me, please!”

You winced, “You’ll be fine without me, Sammy. Don’t you worry your pretty little head,” you tried to joke, but only end up in a miserable coughing fit.

Dean swung into the hospital parking lot. Before he even had Baby in park, am was jumping out of the car with you in his arms. He ran to the emergency room door, frantically searching for a nurse.

You groan at the jostling, pain radiating through your entire body.

“I need you to save her, please!” Sam yelled desperately as he laid you on a gurney.

“What’s her name?” a tall, male nurse asked Sam.

“Y/N Brown,” Sam said, using the fake last name the three of you had agreed on years ago.

The nurses started yelling things that Sam couldn’t understand as they wheeled you down the hallway. Sam fell to his knees in the middle of the emergency room praying harder than he ever has that you’re okay.

“Next of kin for Y/N Brown?” A nurse in rainbow scrubs called out.

Sam shot up out of his seat, slightly off balance from the lack of sleep and the amount of tears he had shed. “Is she okay?”

Dean had left half an hour before to get a hotel and food.

The nurse gave him a tight smile, only slightly intimidated at the giant man lopsidedly lumbering his way towards her.

The small woman held up her hands to make sure Sam didn’t run into her, “She’s going to be fine There was minimal internal bleeding. I’m afraid there will be a nasty scar, however.”

Sam almost laughed in her face. Almost. “I’m sure she’ll be fine with a scar.” Sam felt as if a huge weight had lifted off of his shoulders once he knew that you were okay. “Can I see her?”

“Are you family?”

Sam nodded, “She’s my wife,” he lied easily.

The nurse only smile and turned around, leading him down the hallways and to an elevator. The pair went up three floors to the ICU, walked down three brightly lit hallways, and down four doors.

“She’ll be in here for the next 24 hours. Just to make sure that there are no complications. From there she’ll be moved to recovery and spend a few days there. She may be a little loopy or sleepy for the next few hours. The anesthetic is still wearing off.”

Sam thanked the nurse before opening the door. The sight in front of him almost made him break down yet again.

You were laid on your back. A breathing tube was down your throat and at least four IV’s coming out of each arm.

You looked like hell.

Sam’s boots made almost no noise on the polished linoleum floor as he walked over to your bedside.

He pulled up a chair and sat down, taking your cold hand in his. Sam sucked in a deep breath, “God, Y/N. You scared me shitless back there.”

You didn’t answer, but Sam didn’t expect you to.

“I’m so sorry that this happened to you. It was supposed to be me that got hit, but you stupidly pushed me out of the way. I wasn’t looking at hat was happening. This is all my fault,” Sam’s throat started to close with emotion as tears started to fall down his face. He laid his head down on your arm, careful of the tubes.

Your eyes fluttered open, your heart rate accelerating slightly. You tried to talk, but the giant breathing tube in your throat made it hard. You lifted your left arm, pulling the tube out, fighting back our gag reflex. “C’mon Sammy, self deprecation is Dean’s thing.” Every word felt like you were swallowing seventeen knives.

Sam jumped, looking at your bruised face. There was a small smirk present on your lips. “You asshole.”

“Eh, you love me,” you teased, but coughed as the words caused too much strain on your vocal chords.

Sam poured you a cup of water from the pitcher on your bedside table and brought it up to your lips so you could drink.

Once you drank the whole cup, and three more, you laid your head back, “I’m sorry for scaring you, Sammy.” Sam blushed, knowing that you heard him, “It’s okay, Y/N. I was just worried that wouldn’t have had the chance to tell you that I’m in love with you.”

You gasped, “Y-you’re...”

Sam laughed, “I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you, Y/N,” his hand came up to rest on your cheek.

“The feeling’s mutual, Winchester,” you whispered.

A huff of air left Sam’s body, “Thank god,” he said and crashed his lips to yours.

You only pulled away when you were in desperate need of air, “God you don’t know how great it feels to finally be able to do that.”

Sam smiled at you, “I think I know.”

You turned on your side, trying to make room for Sam’s giant frame, “Come here,” you beckoned him over.

Sam kicked off his shoes and climbed in with you, careful not to bend the tubes.

Sam placed a kiss on your forehead as your head settled into his neck, “I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too, Sammy,” you said as your exhausted mind and body shut down, sleep taking over.

I know some people search the world To find something like what we have I know people will try try to divide something so real So till the end of time I'm telling you there ain't no one No one, no one, no one Can get in the way of what I'm feeling No one, no one, no one Can get in the way of what I feel for you, you, you Can get in the way of what I feel for you

Your hands shook violently as you smoothed out the invisible wrinkles in your white sundress.

You turned away from the mirror and started pacing across the floor.

You were getting married to Sam Winchester.

The loud knock didn’t even register in your mind as you continued to wear a hole in the carpet.

“Y/N?” Dean called out to you. He pushed open the door and chuckled slightly as he saw you practically chewing off your nails while pacing the floor.

Dean walked over, the stiff dress shoes cutting into the side of his feet, and placed a hand on your shoulder.

Without a moments hesitation, you grabbed Dean’s hand, twisting it behind his back.

“Shit, Y/N!” Dean yelled in pain.

You immediately dropped his arm as you recognized his voice, “Sorry, Dean.”

Dean shook out his arm and turned to you, “In hindsight, it wasn’t smart to sneak up on a hunter like that,” he smirked.

You laughed, “Probably no, Dean-o.”

Dean rolled his eyes at the stupid nickname. “You ready to go?”

You swallowed, “Um...”

Dean rolled his eyes and took your hand, leading you out the door. “You are ready, whether you like it or not.”

You huffed out a breath, but let him drag you to the Impala.

The closer you got to the wedding chapel, the more nervous you felt. “I’m getting married, Dean-o.”

“Welcome to the party, Y/N. You may have arrived little late, though,” he said with a small smirk as he parked the Impala.

You let out a short giggle, “I’m nervous, Dean.”

Dean looked at you. Your eyes were as wide as saucers as you stared at the chapel. The two of you still had ten minutes before you had to walk down the aisle, so he turned his whole body to you, “Care to explain?”

Taking a deep breath, yet still not taking your eyes away from the daunting white chapel, “What if we get married, and he finally realizes that he’s stuck with me? What if he realizes that he wants to get out of our marriage, but he doesn’t know how. What if he just wants to leave period. What if I’m not good enough for him?” you mumbled quickly.

“Whoa, whoa whoa,” Dean raised an eyebrow, taking your shoulders and forcing you to look at him, “First, I have never seen Sam look at anyone like he looks at you. That boy is completely and utterly in love with you. Secondly, there is no doubt in my mind that even if both of you were immortal, Sam still wouldn’t leave you. And third, any man would be lucky to have you. you are so compassionate, strong, caring, bad-ass, you’re everything anyone needs in a woman, and Sam knows that. If Sam were to ever let you go I would a) beat his ass, and b) blame him for letting a girl like you go.”

By the end of Dean’s little speech you were tearing up, “Thanks, Dean-o.”

Upon hearing the stupid nickname you gave him, Dean knew that he spoke the right words. He brought you to hi chest in a quick hug. “Let’s go get you hitched.”

You let out a giggle and carefully wiped under your eyes. “Let’s go get me hitched.”

Both you and Dean climbed out of the Impala and hooked arms with each other.

You had asked Dean if he would be the one to walk you down the aisle since your own father had passed. Dean happily obliged, almost tearing up when you asked.

You took Sam’s hands. His were as clammy as yours were.

As the officiant began his speech you took a deep breath.

You are going to spend the rest of your life with Sam Winchester, apple pie life and all.

tags: want to be added or removed? send me an ask!

@evyiione

#Sam Winchester Birthday Celebration #Taylor's 3k Followers Challenge #happy 34th birthday sammy #sam winchester #sam wincehster x reader #sam winchesterxreader #sam x reader #samxreader #reader insert #sam winchester fluff #sam fluff #sam one shot #sam winchester one shot #no one like you #my writing

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just-tinkabelle · 8 years ago

Text

Come,Night

CS Lieutenant Duckling

Summary: Princess Emma loves waking past the Jewel of the Realm just to catch a glimpse of Lieutenant Killian Jones. One day while out by the docks she is told news that upsets her and makes a decision that changes her relationship with Killian forever.

Rating: S because this chapter got smutty.

Part 7 of 8 (?)

A/N: Thank you so much to the wonderful Becky for being my beta even though I haven’t written in forever. You are the best. I would be lost without you.I know I say this all the time but it’s true. Only you know how to read my two thoughts at once moments when I write. For those still reading this fic, if anyone still is, here is chapter 7. I know I said 6 was the final chapter of the fic but things changed in my mind for it. I never intended to go past 6 but oh well. I hope you have enjoy the chapter and how I have continued it. I think chapter 8 might be the end but who knows. Thank you for reading it. It means the world to me.

Chapter 1,2,3, 4 ,5 and 6 plus the prequel can be found on FF.net with 7.

Now on AO3.

The air around Emma was thick and suffocating, there appeared to be a mist slowly engulfing her feet and rising up around her. Opening her mouth Emma tried to call out to see if anyone was there but she knew right away she was alone. Looking around in hopes of finding a door or a person dim lights suddenly flickered all around her as they fought to stay on. Like light breezes from the wind, Emma was hit by words said in a whisper.

"Love it's the lark."

"I promise to return with your suitor in one piece Princess Emma."

"I was scared you would die."

Slowly an image came to form under the flickering lights. It was her and Killian but what seemed from a different lifetime. Their clothing seemed like they had come from a BBC production of a Jane Austen novel. Emma smiled as she caught of glimpse of Killian in what appeared to be a Naval uniform and herself in a simple muslin nightgown. They were in a room at night and she was happy to see him even though her cheeks were tear stained. Killian's forehead was pressed against hers. Emma could see his lips moving but not the words. Tip toeing over she watched the beautiful scene play out as it started to fade. She caught Killian's last words "True love lives through death."

"Especially the one with the stone balcony"

On the opposite side of Emma another image appeared it was of a garden she had dreamt of many times before. Once again she saw herself standing there with, Neal. He had the same disgusting sly grin and arrogant demeanor that she knew all too well. Emma ran as she watched her body twitch in disgust as he touched her, trying to imprint his fingerprints in her skin but by the time she reached them, they were gone.

"It's a cinquefoil"

Emma touched the small silver pendant that hung from neck as the danced by her. For as long as she could remember, she had worn the pendant but never knew, or had asked where it came from.

"I heard there was to be a ravaging."

"Emma"

"Killian"

The image of two bodies tangled in sheets appeared before her. Emma could hear their moans and pleas to the other. Not knowing whether to close her eyes or move closer she stood still and watched. There was something familiar about that moment. The more she watched the more she realized it was her and Killian. Suddenly, a wave of emotion hit her as she knew in that moment what it felt like to be with Killian even though she never had.

"I love you"

Not wanting to experience anymore Emma ran through the darkness and the mist. Desperately she needed to find a way out. The images came at her faster. She saw her parents in royal dress, Ruby transforming into a werewolf, Killian and his brother Liam in Naval uniforms, Neal aimlessly talking to her as he vied for her affection and worst of all herself. Multiple images of her life formed as she ran past. Crying and broken when Neal spoke to her, scared as she watched Killian leave her room and happiness as she saw the two of them asleep under her sheets. Emma couldn't take it any longer and collapsed to the ground. The words "As you Wish" blanketing over her as they repeated themselves but they were not strong enough to protect her.

"Let me put it on you."

Through the mist Emma could see the Swan Charm necklace hanging from Neal's hand, but they were back in the garden. The background was different but the necklace was the same. Emma remembered it clearly since she had placed it in a box on top of her dresser. How was this all possible?

"He is a pirate in a military uniform.......dead mother.........fugitive father........a brother who begged your father to allow him into the navy as a teenager...... He's nothing compared to me and you being a smart girl would always choose what's best for her kingdom..... I hope you are just as passionate in other activities...... Remember how she took pity on you one night because from now on the only name Emma will be calling out is mine....Make no mistake you will be mine."

"STOP IT" Emma screamed as the cruel words bombarded her. Every last word was in Neal's voice.

"Emma" A different voice called to her.

"Killian?" Abruptly Emma got up from the ground and looked around hoping that he was close by.

"Emma" It called to her again.

"Killian, where are you? I can hear you but can't see you?" Believing the voice was in front of her Emma ran towards it.

"Emma" It seemed to be getting closer.

"I'm almost there. Just wait for me." Emma yelled back as she could see the blue of Killian's eyes in the darkness. She was getting closer to him. Killian's hand rose from the mist and extended towards Emma. His fingertips inched toward her. "I can reach you Killian." Emma's fingertips reached out to grab his own. "Almost there."

"Emma" Killian called out as the world Emma was in seemed to crumble around her.

"NO!" She shouted pushing harder to reach him. "KILLIAN!"

Emma shot up in bed as her parents opened the door to her room. It was still dark only moonlight lighting the room. Cool air had filled her room but Emma was dripping with sweat, and strands of hair clung to her face. Her mother pushed the hair out of the way and grabbed her cheeks to make her look in her eyes, but it was of no use. Emma stared at the window and watched the curtains dance. Every fiber of her being hated those curtains because they reminded her of something and now the dream was making her want to rip them down and burn them.

"Emma look at me" Mary Margaret breathed out with panic in her voice.

"Emma please look at your mother. You had another nightmare." David said as he sat on the bed trying to help as best as he could.

"I'm sorry." Emma whispered out as she snapped from her trance like state.

"You have nothing to be sorry for." Mary Margaret pulled her daughter into a hug. "It was another nightmare."

"Emma why were you calling out for Killian?" Her father asked with concern. "Did he hurt you because..."

"Dad no." Emma broke from her mother's hug and looked directly at her father. "It was probably because of something in the nightmare." She wanted so much to tell them everything she saw, but they would think she was crazy. "I don't really remember it, but why else would I call for him."

"I think the stress of school and college is getting to you. Maybe a visit to Dr. Hopper would be good for you." Her mother suggested as she tucked Emma's loose strands of hair behind her ears.

"I don't need to see Dr. Hopper. It's just a little stress." Emma attempted to reassure her parents. "I just need some sleep and I'll be fine."

"But Emma..."

"Mary Margaret let's let her go back to sleep" David said as he got up and grabbed his wife's hand. "We love you and we'll see you in the morning." He kissed the top his daughter’s head and with his wife in toe left the room.

Emma laid back down and pulled the covers up trying to find sleep again but it was impossible. The dreams, now nightmares, were coming more frequently. She was unable to stop or escape them, and what frightened her the most about them was the familiarity of the images she saw. More and more, the strange, foreign moments of her dream were beginning to feel more like real memories that she’d only forgotten. Knowing that sleep was her enemy Emma got out of bed and walked to her window. The view from her room was the best in the house. Emma could see the ocean and the docks clearly. The scent of sea salt filled her room on the nights that she kept her window open, which was most nights. She loved the scent as it comforted her and reminded her of Killian. Moving her line of sight to the tiny house by the docks that Killian and his brother Liam lived in, she wondered if Killian was awake. Emma wondered if she consumed his thoughts, or if he craved to feel her skin like she did his. Taking deep breathes Emma was hit by a sudden urge to see Killian. Quickly, she turned from the window and grabbed jeans and a t-shirt from the basket of clothing she needed to fold. She doubted Killian would mind seeing her in ducky pj’s but she knew she had to change.

"Where the hell are my keys?" Emma whispered as she searched frantically around her room. "Actually" Remembering the trellis her father had just put on the side of the house for her mother's roses Emma gave up the search for her keys. "Please don't let me kill myself climbing this thing." Emma recited as she climbed out the window and down the trellis.

With a thud Emma's sneakers hit the ground. Before making her way to Killian's, she looked around to make sure her parents hadn't heard her and that there were no late drunks stumbling down her street after a night at the Rabbit Hole who might catch her. In the clear Emma climbed over the tiny white fence and made her way to Killian's house. The streets were quiet and the traffic lights blinked yellow as she briskly walked down them. Storybrooke was eerily quiet, almost if a fairy tale curse had hit the town and she was the only one left. As she neared Neal's house Emma looked up at his room window wanting to make sure that for some odd reason he wasn't standing there waiting to catch her. There appeared to be no movement but a creepy feeling of being watched fell upon her. Emma looked closer at the room’s window but no one was there. Feeling uneasy Emma picked up her pace from a brisk walk to a sprint. The faster she ran the harder it was to shake the feeling that someone had been watching her from the Gold house window. She tried to convince herself it was just the fear of being caught and having to explain where she was going, but deep down she knew that was not the cause of her fear.

Finally reaching Killian's house Emma stopped for a moment to catch her breath but it was pointless. Being there had caused her heart to race and become breathless for a new reason. Taking a deep breath Emma walked to the side of the house and to Killian's window. To her surprise it was open. When she had last seen it from her bedroom window it was shut. Silently she climbed through and into the dark room. A small of amount of moonlight had filled the room but only enough to make out shapes. Unsure of what she was really doing, Emma stood there, half tempted to climb back out the window. While she was contemplating her next move, a hand reached out for her. Any normal person would have screamed or at least jerked their hand away, but not Emma. Familiar with the touch of the callous fingers and the sensation it created on her skin, Emma grabbed on the familiar hand as it pulled her in.

"Shouldn't I be the one climbing through your window?" Killian whispered as he wrapped his arms around her.

"That was last lifetime. This time it's my turn." Emma answered, not knowing what possessed her to hint at the dreams she was having.

"So did this happen often last lifetime?" Killian asked as he moved one hand from her waist to sweep the hair off her neck.

"I would say a few times." Emma's answered. "Sometimes it was just to see me and sometimes other things would happen." Slowly her hands slide up Killian's chest and her fingers tangled into his chest hair.

"Did we enjoy the other things?" Killian breathed out against the skin of her neck before pressing his lips into a pulse point. Emma's skin was hot despite the cold night air.

"Yes" Emma moaned out responding not only to Killian’s question, but his touch on her skin. She didn't realize how much she needed to feel him on her. It wasn't because she needed to know what he felt like but she needed the familiar feeling. The ones of calm and passion she knew from her dreams. It felt strange for Emma to think of it that way but she didn't care.

"Are you here to kidnap me, take me back to your ship so you can ravage me before asking for a handsome ransom from my brother for a safe return?" Killian teased as his lips hovered over hers. The words seemed so familiar to Emma but it felt if she had said them.

"I'm here to ravage you now, Killian." Emma responded after licking her lips. "If you will have me?" Emma added as she stared at Killian's mouth.

Even through the darkness, Emma could see the little smirk Killian had on his face from her words. Next she felt his fingers bunch the hem of her shirt and the bottom of his palms glide over her skin as Killian moved her t shirt off her body. Feeling a cold breeze push through the room, Emma had remembered in her rush she had forgotten to put a bra on. There she stood almost bare in front of Killian. Not once did she think to cover herself up, in her mind Killian had seen her before even if his expression of awe said otherwise.

“You’re…you’re so beautiful Emma.” The words briefly caught in Killian’s throat as his eyes drank in the sight of Emma’s body. The moonlight upon her back created and a glow only reserved for the most admired goddesses.

Gently, Killian’s fingertips moved across the top of Emma’s jeans. He fiddled with the tiny pointed corner of the fly. Killian was excited and scared for what the moment would bring, and he looked into Emma’s eyes for reassurance this is what she wanted as well. With a nod, Emma gave Killian the permission of trespass he sought after. Nimbly Killian undid the button and zipper before using the palms of his hands to slide them past Emma’s hips. Wanting to be a gentleman got on his knees to follow the jeans on their journey to the floor. When they reached their destination, he lifted Emma’s leg to slide the legs off one at time. Emma watched amazed at the amount of care and tenderness Killian was showing her.

Looking up to Emma like a pilgrim worshipping at the feet of his goddess, Killian slid his hands slowly up her thighs prickling her skin and began to remove the simple cotton panties Emma had on. Once removed and feeling worthy of Emma, Killian stood up and once again admired the beauty that stood in front of him. He wanted to speak, tell her how gorgeous she was, but he couldn’t find the words that could express a tenth of what Emma deserved to hear. Instead he took Emma’s hand and placed it on his heavily beating heart. Every thump telling her a new vow and thought. Feeling the emotions course through her body like rough waters, Emma impatiently pushed down Killian’s boxers with her free hand. At that moment Killian was a gift and she needed to tear away at the wrapping to get to the present she had long waited for inside. With the fabric gone and nothing between them, Emma took the lead and moved them to Killian’s tiny twin bed.

“You would have anchors on your comforter.” Emma teased as positioned herself on Killian’s bed. Her eyes wondered around the bed shyly as Killian quickly put on a condom he pulled from his nightstand.

“And I bet you have ducklings on yours.” Killian quipped back as he hovered his body above Emma’s. She could feel his hard cock throbbing against her thigh, begging for entrance inside of her.

“Nope.” Emma breathed out as she lined herself up with Killian. “They are on my pj pants.” And with that Emma grabbed the back of Killian’s head and brought his lips to hers. Hard, she pressed her lips onto his before invading her tongue into his to taste his.

Lost in the passionate kiss, Killian slowly began to enter Emma. With each push further inside Emma, tiny moans escaped her mouth. Wanting to enjoy every moment and not hurt her he took his time to fully finding his way inside her. Emma’s nails dug deeper into his skin the deeper he went. The feeling of pain and pleasure was just too much for her to take and so familiar. Every fiber of her body knew she could handle more because she already had a lifetime ago. Needing all of him, Emma grabbed Killian by the hips and pulled him into her. With that he filled her. Emma’s body raised off the bed for a moment as pleasure seeped into her bones. Seizing the opportunity Killian removed himself from the kiss and placed his lips in the valley between Emma’s breasts. He kissed every inch of her that he could before her body sank back into the bed.

Craving more of the rise of Emma’s body, Killian began to move in and out her. The slickness of her core made it easy for the pace to go from slow and offbeat to perfectly in time with Emma’s own rhythm. Like the bow of the violin moving across the strings, Killian’s cock scrapped against Emma’s inner moans which created the most melodic of sounds as she moaned against his ear. Music so sweet to Killian’s ear he yearned for more. Ever so slightly Killian bent his head and carefully placed kisses along Emma’s neck, collarbone and chest before reaching the perfect peak of her breast. Killian’s mouth covered her nipple as he began to suck on it. The intensity of Emma’s pleasure increased, causing her to wrap her legs around him, to steady his thrust as he focused on her breasts. Not wanting to play favorites, Killian moved to the other nipple and began to repeat his earlier actions. Emma could feel the fire build deep in the pit of her stomach but she wasn’t ready for it to end. They had all night and she intended on using the night.

“I thought I was here to ravage you.” Emma breathless spoke as her tiny frame managed to flip them to where Killian was on his back and she on top.

There was a slight shock and amusement on Killian’s face. “By all means Emma take what you want.” He replied wanting to see what she had in store for him.

At first Emma was uncertain how to move and where to place her hands but as she closed her eyes she remembered the images of her dreams. Leaning forward Emma kissed the crook of Killian’s neck before delicately dragging her teeth across his chest and playfully biting him. A pleasurable hiss escaped Killian’s lips as he grabbed a tight hold of Emma’s hips. Straightening her back, Emma anchored her hands on Killian’s chest and began Killian’s descent into madness. Muscle memory suddenly took over and Emma rocked her hips slowly at first. She could see the pleasure in Killian’s eyes and feel it in his touch as he pressed his fingers harder against her skin. Uncertain of how she remembered this was what drove him crazy, Emma ground herself harder into him. The short strides of her hips grew longer in length with every movement of her hips.

“Emma.” Killian moaned under his breath as he watched Emma.

The sound of her name stumbling out Killian’s mouth ignited the fire building in the pit of her stomach. There was something about the deep raspy sound of his voice that made Emma want to ride him harder to make him speak again. Emma closed her eyes again and thought back to an image she had once seen of her and Killian together. Placing her a hand on each of Killian’s thighs, Emma leaned backwards and arched her back. Again she took her time finding the back and forth rhythm that pleased them both. The feel of Killian’s cock inside her fueled the orgasm that seemed to be instantly building. Emma moved faster and more erratically. Desperately she needed to feel that wave of pleasure come over her body and it was granted to her the moment Killian’s rough thumb feverishly rubbed the tiny bundle of nerves.

“Killian” Emma yelled through her teeth that clamped down on her bottom lip.

Emma’s spent and sweaty body fell forward onto Killian’s chest. The thumping of Killian’s heart pounded in Emma’s ears. Each beat played a familiar lullaby Emma swore she had heard before. She could stay in the moment forever and not care. Killian pressed a kiss into the top of her head and swept strands of hair off her back. His calloused fingertips glided across her skin like the cool breeze Emma had just noticed in the room.

“Don’t think that is the end of it. You still need yours.” Emma said through her wolfish grin as she popped her head off Killian’s chest.

“Oh do I need now love” Killian responded gleefully.

“Yes I need to still ravage you. That was just me teasing you on what I, we can do tonight.” Emma teased as she whispered into Killian’s ear.

“Then by all means my princess ravage me for real this time.” Killian breathe as he flipped Emma on her back.

“I don’t think I can while you’re on top of me.” The words were drizzled with a slight laughter as Emma spoke them.

“Oh what a pity. I may need to ravage you.” There was a lustful tone in Killian’s voice. Emma could feel the hard tip of his cock making its way into her.

“That’s not how….Oh god Killian….this works….yes like that.” Emma stuttered as Killian slide his cock in and out of her.

The pleasure from Killian inside Emma was nothing new in her mind. This was just another encounter to the long list that had already happened. Emma was familiar with the stretch his cock caused while deep inside her and the dragging against her walls when he pulled out slowly to drive her mad. Muscle memory took over and Emma began to dig her nails into the middle of Killian’s back. Just like the countless times in Emma’s dreams, Killian moaned out the words bloody hell. Not knowing whether to laugh or fear the familiarity of it all, Emma bit her bottom lip so she could say nothing. She didn’t want to ruin in the moment or scare Killian with the crazy images of them in an oversized bed and crispy cotton sheets in a distant land swirling through her head as he thrust inside her and filled her with pleasure. Emma moved her hands up into Killian’s hair and entangled her fingers with the hair at the nape of his neck. With a gentle pull she lowered his ear down to her lips.

“You know what I like” Emma whispered into his ear before she could stop herself.

“As the princess commands.” Killian responded firmly to the command.

With his left hand he slid it under Emma’s lower back, slightly raising her ass off the bed. Then his right hand found Emma’s nimble fingers and interwove his with hers. Emma could do nothing more but watch him intently. Somehow Killian remembered the night he snuck into her room, the night she told him to never leave her. An intense urge came over Emma and with all her strength she pushed her body off the bed and slammed her lips into Killian’s. Her tongue not waiting for admission she seized his with her own. Lust and passion filled the kiss as Emma deepened it. There was a fire burning not only in the kiss but in depths of her belly.

“Now harder” Emma demanded and she broke the kiss.

As Emma’s body found the softness of Killian’s bed, like a man worshipping his goddess, Killian did as she wanted. Pulling all but the tip out Killian with a smirk on his face slowly pushed every last inch of his cock into Emma until he could not tell where he ended and she began.

“Is this what you wanted?” Killian asked knowing full well it was.

No more words were exchanged after that moment. Doing as he was told Killian began to thrust into Emma with such a force that his bed began to sift. He was thankful that Liam was not home because he would have surely heard the bed scraping the floor and Emma screaming Killian’s name at the top of her lungs. How he loved hearing her call out for him.

Wanting to hear this name pleasurably screamed from Emma’s mouth, Killian had an idea. Slowly he slid out of Emma and moved further down the bed. Killian caught a glimpse of Emma’s face. There was a mix of confusion and excitement written all over it. Not wanting to give too much away Killian smirked and lowered his mouth onto a different set of lips. Killian wasted no time putting his tongue to good use. First darting his tongue to tickle the small bundle of nerves before pushing his tongue further into her warm center. Like a boy licking frosting off his birthday cake, Killian curled his tongue and lapped the juice that flowed from Emma. Suddenly, he felt a hand gripping at his hair and pulling with slight force. Killian looked up and could see Emma biting her lip so he began to sucking gently on her clit. The simple action made Emma dig her heels into the bed and push Killian’s mouth harder into her. Killian knew if he continued he would make Emma cum into his mouth but it was not what he wanted. Abruptly Killian stopped and with one swift movement of his body, he moved back on top of Emma. Having Emma’s full attention Killian licked his lips and thrust himself back into Emma. Killian could feel Emma’s body ready for its well deserved release and he would give it to her.

Killian slid in and out of Emma, each time a little harder and deeper. The cheap bed moved further away from the wall with every movement. Throbbing inside of Emma as her walls clenched around his cock tighter and tighter, Killian could now feel that at any moment he would burst. Wanting to see Emma’s orgasm, Killian locked eyes with her and pushed his cock inside her in such an angle he was able to reach the spot deep inside her that made her body melt. Within moments Emma arched her back in profound pleasure and screamed Killian’s name into the night air. Following suit he held onto her hip as his own orgasm followed and poured into her.

“I love you Emma Swan.” Killian professed as her collapsed his tired body next to her.

“I love you Killian Jones.” Emma replied trying to catch her breath.

The two lay there in silence trying to breathe and think. Heavy panting echoed the room. Feeling the breeze make its way into the room Killian grabbed the blanket somehow still attached to the end of the bed and pulled it up towards them. Emma snuggled in closer and fit her body into his. Emma knew she could only lay there a few minutes before needing to leave or she would fall asleep and risk both of them getting in trouble. Killian pulled her in closer and pushed the hair off her neck to kiss the tiniest freckle he could spot on her skin. Both could have lived in that bed forever. There would be no worries of family or boyfriends, of crazy dreams and an even crazier reality. Time would stand still for them for just one night if they begged hard enough.

“Never leave me” Emma murmured half asleep.

“Never.” Killian whispered as pulled her tighter.

“I need you, always.” Became Emma’s last words as she drifted off into sleep.

“And I you.” Became Killian’s before he went to meet her in his dreams.

#captain swan #lieutenant duckling #cs fanfic #lieutenant duckling fanfiction #ld ff #emma swan #killian jones #the things i write #thinking out loud

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drunkdragondoes · 8 years ago

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Summoner AU - Petals and Boots

It’s also on ff.net and AO3, though under a different fic of their own. AO3 and FF.net.

Freedom was comprised of two facets for Weiss - authority and power. Authority was the ability to enforce, to give orders and direct others. Power was the proactive choice to do something. Living in the Schnee Manor had given her an early example of both cases at work, and for all that happened under the roof, she wanted to believe that she had freedom. With a few choice words, a five-star meal could be prepared on a whim. Servants would fetch her almost anything under the sun that lien could buy.

Yet while she held this over others, Weiss felt like she had no agency in regards to herself. There were certain things she had to conform to. Her father dictated her every waking hour, from the moment she left the breakfast table to the moment she entered her room for the night. Singing lessons. Etiquette and business.

Failure to participate and meet her father’s expectations were, as he described, unfortunate. Perhaps it was driven out of survival or need, but Weiss did her best to perform to her father’s goals. And as she grew older and the days passed by, she found herself watching and waiting for the moment where she could break free.

So when she was given the opportunity to train and become a huntress, she eagerly followed after her sister’s footsteps. The look of surprise on her counselor’s face when she came in and asked about how to become a huntress was not a look she would forget anytime soon.

But bringing that home to her father was something else, and she realized that he didn’t let Winter become a huntress because she wanted to. Instead, he let Winter be a huntress because it benefited him - her skills were better off in that area, and her face and name in the field was more valuable than her actual enjoyment of it.

Weiss becoming a huntress didn’t benefit him. It was the first time she had ever fought for something directly with her father. Years of watching and carefully avoiding his words had left her with trepidation, never fully secure in him. There was a lack of trust from both sides, and some said the fighting lasted about a week, Weiss stubbornly refusing to back down.

But each time their argument ended, Weiss always found herself sequestered in her room, heart pounding in her chest. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she knew just how terrified she was of him. Sometimes she needed to work out the energy in her veins and she paced her wide room, trying to breathe and slow herself down. But other times it was too much, and she buried her face in her pillow, unsure if she was crying from relief or from the unfortunate words she heard or nearly avoided.

And then one morning she was at the breakfast table and realized that her father, instead of dictating her schedule to her, had simply left a syllabus on her scroll. And at the very bottom of the list, were two words - hunter training. Weiss had never finished breakfast so tquickly.

The first day was just the introductory course - to explain what was expected, to their roles in society, and how the danger was far more real than what the movies and stories say. Everyone knew who she was and some gave her more than just an odd stare. But she wasn’t scared of them and pushed back - they were all smaller than her father after all, and no one was going to take this victory away from her.

And while some walked away from the class, she drank it in. She learned that the style a hunter fought with was determined by body size, weapon choice, and abilities, but it was ultimately within the hunter’s power to decide what was best. Hunters also had authority in certain cases, such as directing civilians in the lack of other figures like the police or military.

It was freedom, and no matter how much she sweat or had to sacrifice in the name of discipline, (creme brulee, her one weakness!) it was a way out of the Schnee Manor to pursue her own choice, and she relished every moment she had.

But as training went on and she excelled in her classes and she grew older, a strange dread crept into her heart. Winter had finally gained her summon, and something her father had said put her in a state of quiet panic.

“Death sounds like it is a powerful entity. I wonder what you’ll be able to do with it in the end.”

She recognized this line. She had heard it in many instances when she was younger and it fueled her at the time. But knowing now that her father was interested in using Winter’s summon, fear coursed through her heart again. Taking out her scroll, she saw that she would be seventeen and a half in three weeks.

Every Schnee that ever had a summon gained it when the were seventeen and a half. The only exception was Winter.

And so for three weeks Weiss feared and yet dared to dream at the same time. She had hoped that pursuing the career of a huntress would be her way to escape the manor. But a voice in the back of her mind wondered that, just maybe, this was all something her father let happen. Was he still in control, valuing her image more than her ‘disobedience’ to him at this time? Was this truly escaping her confines?

But there was also the excitement in her heart. Even if her father found a way to leash her, he couldn’t keep an eye on everything. Perhaps her summon would be so diminutive at first glance that he would overlook it. Or perhaps it would be so powerful that it would punch a hole in the manor and she could flee, like a princess freed by a knight.

Weiss feared and yet wanted the power and authority that having a summon commanded. She would be on the final steps to being a fully-fledged huntress, and her father would have to relinquish his hold upon her. She wanted the authority to wield and direct for something beyond just a goal of financial wealth. She wanted the power to make change and become her own person.

Freedom.

That was the last word in her mind when she stood at the center of the summoning hall, Myrtenaster drawn and pointed at the center. Her eyes were closed, concentrating, breathing deep, trying to remain as calm as she possibly could.

It was finally happening, she reminded herself. Several years of training both her physical body and mastering her glyphs, and now she was at the cusp at being a true huntress. And then she would be called upon to take on missions, to fight, to save, and to explore the world outside of the Schnee Manor. It was everything she had hoped for.

And yet she hesitated. The draw was there, pulling at her heart, but she didn’t answer it just yet. The four walls of the manor were all she knew. She had lived in this castle all her life, following the directions of her father to the letter. And though she had field training, things would be different. What she had taken for granted wouldn’t be available. And ultimately she would be in an area that she was unfamiliar with. And communicating with others had always been… terse. Outside of office talk and the chats with her sister, her word choice was, at best, prickly.

And there was her father. There was always her father.

But she scrunched her eyes shut and took another breath. Weiss needed this. She bit back her thoughts, her concerns, her fears. She would adapt. She would learn.

After all, freedom was worth it.

She opened her eyes, and light began to gather in front of her.

Whoosh

Staring deep into the light, swirling behind its varying hues, refusing to turn away, she hoped her summon would be great. She hoped it would be strong, that it could tear down walls, reach past barriers. She hoped it would be a guide, for both herself and for those who might follow her through the now-open world.

When the lights faded, and the hall was once again still, a man or teenager, perhaps not much older than she was, stood before her. His body stretched tall, hands shoved into his pockets, clothes made of blacks and grays.He looked no different than a hunter, but Weiss could feel something different about him. What stood out the most were his boots. Made of steel and perhaps something beyond the makings of man, they carried a strange weight to their look, as if his feet could puncture the thickest of hides.

But the most intriguing part were the wings sprouting from the top of its sides.

When his gray eyes looked into hers, she licked her lips once, tried to speak, then tried to speak again.

“What is your name?”

“Mercury.”

A god, or at least the essence of one, stood before her.

But before she could say more, a higher-pitched voice came from behind Weiss, freezing her in her tracks.

“Umm, e-excuse me!”

Her head whipped around and she felt her jaw drop. In front of her was a young girl, dressed in a matching black faux corset and skirt with a trailing red cape tied sewn to the shoulders. In her arms was a scythe longer than she was tall, with gears and machinations and contraptions, meant for transforming into who-knew-what. As the girl traced her eyes around the room, taking in the fact that every Schnee was staring at her, seas of white hair and curious eyes looking her way, she began to shrink a little.

“Sorry, umm…”

One hand released her scythe, letting it collapse and tucking it behind her. Then with both hands she began to play with the hem of her skirt, clearly nervous. With any luck the girl probably hoped that she would shrink and disappear into nothing.

What was this girl even doing here? “Who are you?” Weiss nearly snapped, and the girl became even smaller.

“I’m… I’m Ruby Rose… How, uh… How did I get here?”

“How?” Weiss felt her eyebrow shoot up. “Clearly you snuck in during my summoning rite.”

“B-But the last thing I remember was-” a hand went to her head, scratching through her hair and trailing down just the top of her neck a little. “I mean, there were Dominus-class Grimm around me, and they, one of them-” her face suddenly paled. Her hands flew to her chest and stomach, patting herself down and grasping for something that wasn't there.

Placing Myrtenaster away, she stormed up to the girl and was rearing to bite her head off, but a hand clapped onto her shoulder. Turning, she saw that it was Mercury who had caught up with her.

“Easy, now, Weiss. Ruby’s here with me.”

“... What?”

Did…

Did she just summon a girl? A girl who had gone missing three weeks ago?

A/N: Welcome to my OT3 trash. I ship White Rose, but I think I ship Weiss x Mercury harder. As for tie-ins and whatnot, this is sort of a side story that occurs at or around the same time as Winter's story in this AU. It didn't really belong in it, though, so I thought it was best to load it as a separate fic in this series. This is also especially driven by how Weiss might get her own story for now.

Also, before you bite my head off, given how I've written Weiss, Mercury (and even Ruby) DO thematically match her. I did my research (kinda? kinda).

#rwby #summoner au #ruby rose #weiss schnee #mercury black #White rose #whiterose #OT3 #this is my trash #might become its own story instead of a oneshot #cold feet

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projectrejects · 7 years ago

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LONG POST - is long?

„асть 1. √лава 2 →

The courier presses his forehead against layers of glass, argon, high-impact plastic. He watches a gunship traverse the cityТs middle distance like a hunting wasp, death slung beneath its thorax in a smooth black pod.

Hours earlier, missiles have fallen in a northern suburb; seventy-three dead, the kill as yet unclaimed. But here the mirrored ziggurats down L C flow with the luminous flesh of giants, shunting out the nightТs barrage of dreams to the waiting avenidas-business as usual, world without end.

The air beyond the window touches each source of light with a faint hepatic corona, a tint of jaundice edging imperceptibly into brownish translucence. Fine dry flakes of fecal snow, billowing in from the sewage flats, have lodged in the lens of night.

Closing his eyes, he centers himself in the background hiss of climate-control. He imagines himself in Tokyo, this room in some new wing of the old Imperial. He sees himself in the streets of Chiyoda-ku, beneath the sighing trains. Red paper lanterns line a narrow lane.

He opens his eyes.

Mexico City is still there.

The eight empty bottles, plastic miniatures, are carefully aligned with the edge of the o-rock.ru coffee table: a Japanese vodka, Come Back Salmon, its name more irritating than its lingering aftertaste.

On the screen above the console, the ptichka await him, all in a creamy frieze. When he takes up the remote, their high sharp cheekbones twist in the space behind his eyes. Their young men, invariably entering from behind, wear black leather gloves. Slavic faces, calling up unwanted fragments of a childhood: the reek of a black canal, steel racketing steel beneath a swaying train, the high old ceilings of an apartment overlooking a frozen park.

Twenty-eight peripheral images frame the Russians in their earnest coupling; he glimpses figures carried from the smoke-blackened car-deck of an Asian ferry.

He opens another of the little bottles.

Now the ptichka, their heads bobbing like well-oiled machines, swallow their arrogant, self-absorbed boyfriends. The camera angles recall the ardor of Soviet industrial cinema.

His gaze strays to NHK Weather. A low-pressure front is crossing Kansas. Next to it, an eerily calm Islamic downlink ceaselessly reiterates the name of God in a fractal-based calligraphy.

He drinks the vodka.

He watches television.

After midnight, at the intersection of Liverpool and Florencia, he stares out at the Zona Rosa from the back of a white Lada, a nanopore Swiss respirator chafing his freshly shaven chin.

And every passing face is masked, mouths and nostrils concealed behind filters. Some, honoring the Day of the Dead, resemble the silver-beaded jaws of grinning sugar-skulls. Whatever form they take, their manufacturers all make the same dubious, obliquely comforting claims about viroids.

HeТs thought to escape the sameness, perhaps discover something of beauty or passing interest, but here there are only masked faces, his fear, the lights.

An ancient American car comes creeping through the turn, out of Avenida Chapultepec, gouts of carbon puising from beneath a dangling bumper. A dusty rind of cola-colored resin and shattered mirror seals its every surface; only the windshield is exposed, and this is black and glossy, opaque as a blob of ink, reminding him of the gunshipТs lethal pod. He feels the fear begin to accrete, seamlessly, senselessly, with absolute conviction, around this carnival ghost, the Cadillac, this oil-burning relic in its spectral robe of smudged mosaic silver. Why is it allowed to add its filth to the already impossible air? Who sits inside, behind the black windshield?

Trembling, he watches the thing pass.

УThat carЕФ He finds himself leaning forward, compulsively addressing the broad brown neck of the driver, whose massive ear lobes somehow recall reproduction pottery offered on the hotelТs shopping channel.

УEl cocheФ says the driver, who wears no mask, and turning, now seems to notice the courier for the first time. The courier sees the mirrored Cadillac flare, once, and briefly, with the reflected ruby of a nightclubТs laser, then gone.

The driver is staring at him.

He tells the driver to return to the hotel.

He comes awake from a dream of metal voices, down the vaulted concourses of some European airport, distant figures glimpsed in mute rituals of departure.

Darkness. The hiss of climate-control.

The touch of cotton sheets. His telephone beneath the pillow. Sounds of traffic, muted by the gas-filled windows. All tension, his panic, are gone. He remembers the atrium bar. Music. Faces.

He becomes aware of an inner balance, a rare equilibrium. It is all he knows of peace.

And, yes, the glasses are here, tucked beside his telephone. He draws them out, opening the ear pieces with a guilty pleasure that has somehow endured since Prague.

Very nearly a decade he has loved her, though he doesnТt think of it in those terms. But he has never bought another piece of software and the black plastic frames have started to lose their sheen. The label on the cassette is unreadable now, sueded white with his touch in the night. So many rooms like this one.

He has long since come to prefer her in silence. He no longer inserts the yellowing audio beads. He has learned to provide his own, whispering to her as he fast-forwards through the clumsy titles and up the moonlit ragged hillscape of a place that is neither Hollywood nor Rio, but some soft-focus digital approximation of both.

She is waiting for him, always, in the white house up the canyon road. The candles. The wine. The jet-beaded dress against the matte perfection of her skin, such whiteness, the black beads drawn smooth and cool as a snakeТs belly up her tensed thigh.

Far away, beneath cotton sheets, his hands move.

Later, drifting toward sleep of a different texture, the phone beneath his pillow chimes softly and only once.

УYes? Ф

УConfirming your reservation to San FranciscoФ someone says, either a woman or a machine. He touches a key, recording the flight number, says goodnight, and closes his eyes on the tenuous light sifting from the dark borders of the drapes.

Her white arms enfold him. Her blondness eternal.

He sleeps.

IntenSecure had their wagons detailed every three shifts. They used this big specialty car wash off Colby; twenty coats of hand-rubbed Wet Honey Sienna and you didnТt let it get too shabby.

That one November evening the Republic of Desire put an end to his career in armed response, Berry Rydell had arrived there a little early.

He liked the way it smelled inside. They had this pink stuff they put through the power-washers to get the road film off, and the smell reminded him of a summer job heТd had in Knoxville, his last year in school. TheyТd been putting condos into the shell of this big old Safeway out on Jefferson Davis. The architects wanted the cinder block walls stripped just this one certain way, mostly gray showing through but some old pink Safeway paint left in the little dips and crannies. They were from Memphis and they wore black suits and white cotton shirts. The shirts had obviously cost more than the suits, or at least as much, and they never wore ties or undid the top button. Rydell had figured that that was a way for architects to dress; now he lived in L. A. , he knew it was true. HeТd overheard one of them explaining to the foreman that what they were doing was exposing the integrity of the materialТs passage through time. He thought that was probably bullshit, but he sort of liked the sound of it anyway; like what happened to old people on television.

But what it really amounted to was getting most of this shitty old paint off thousands and thousands of square feet of equally shitty cinder block, and you did it with an oscillating spray-head on the end of a long stainless handle. If you thought the foreman wasnТt looking, you could aim it at another kid, twist out a thirty-foot rooster tail of stinging rainbow, and wash all his sunblock off. Rydell and his friends all wore this Australian stuff that came in serious colors, so you could see where you had and hadnТt put it. Had to get your right distance on it, though, Тcause up close those heads could take the chrome off a bumper. Rydell and Buddy Crigger both got fired for doing that, finally, and then they walked across Jeff Davis to a beer joint and Rydell wound up spending the night with this girl from Key West, the first time heТd ever slept beside a woman.

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sathemsart · 7 years ago

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Fijit Oddloom

Bellow is my full backstory for Fijit, my little Magenta Bloodlust

Fijit is 2'5", 35 pounds, and it is all fucking muscle. She has dark red skin, bright magenta eyes, and cheery pink hair that she keeps in a short, controlled hairstyle under her incredibly fancy hat. Her scars stand out light on her skin, one above her left eye, several nicks in her ears, and one through her lip and chin (and those are just the visible ones). Her nose has been obviously broken several times and didn't set right. Her fingers have several oil burns and she would never admit it but they are from early cooking accidents and not something badass. She usually lies about where they came from but the story is different every time.

She's got a sturdy body type, more so than most gnomes, often having a heartier diet. Her teeth are slightly pointed and she sometimes files them to be more so. Her facial features are round cheeked but pointy chinned, wide eyes and large pointed ears. Her intimidation tactics have been honed with an unsettling, unblinking stare and a slowly widening, sharp toothed grin that would look right at home on a shark. Because she’s worked so hard to build up the image she has it’s not something she can just turn off. So she’s not very diplomatic.

Fijits father was never in the picture and her mother died early on in her life, to something Fijit doesn't remember. She was raised by a friend of the family who was unfortunately human and unfortunately single and was not quite sure how to raise a precocious gnome, let alone a girl-child. He has no idea how to do her hair and she had the unfortunate propensity to become tangled in it causing him to keep it cut short. This is in direct opposition to her gnome quirk of having elaborate hairstyles. She never grew into that particular quirk, deciding instead to go the more masculine route of having a really, really cool hat.

Her dad, Ven Haven was a kind, curious man, which made him distinctly ill-suited to life in Riddleport. He came to Riddleport after being disowned by his own family and needed somewhere to eke out a living away from their influence. He was a wizard who specialized in creation of magical items. Living in that household, with Ven who did not properly childproof his spell making equipment, exposed Fijit to a variety of magical items and their uses and backfires. One particularly volatile gadget seared part of her face, her left eyebrow, forehead, and part of her hairline leaving her with permanent burn scars.

Fijit learned young that her adopted dad was more of a dreamer than a practical guardian. She started getting jobs to help pay for household expenses. Since she was young and small she mostly took courier jobs and the occasional heist job. But what she saw were the fighters, they had the most opportunities and the highest paychecks. That's what she aspired to be despite her racial limitations and radically un-intimidating, shockingly pink coloration. She picked up the hammer because it's the only weapon kept around the house and the most satisfying to take to some big dudes kneecaps. The crunch really makes it worth it.

In her tweens she often fought with her dad, wanting him to work harder and make them more money. He was too nice, too giving in a cutthroat town that would as soon kiss him with a snicker snack as look at him. He was ninety pounds soaking wet and had an abysmally miniscule book of offensive spells. She worried for him constantly and it came out as anger. It was only after a bad mugging that he started to see her side of things. He didn't pick up offensive magic though, he turned to healing and defence. He also despaired of her picking up odd jobs, thinking it too dangerous for one so small and young and...pink. His constant overprotective nature forced her to keep secrets from him no matter how she hated it. They never ended up seeing eye to eye on the matter and it was a source of contention between them until the day he died.

She has lived in the Leeward District for her whole life in the house her mother bequeathed to her. The downstairs shop front she rents out to a human candlemaker, Evan Lacegrave, who also lodges there and takes care of the place when Fijit is busy with various jobs that take her away from the town. She's had to threaten away a number of far too interested buyers which really helped her develop her intimidating personality. She is, while not friendly persay, on congenial terms with her neighbors but hears most gossip through Evan. She keeps to herself and certainly causes her fair share of gossip in the neighborhood.

Fijit is more serious compared to other gnomes because she puts more effort into intimidation and can't afford to show levity in front of the regular denizens of the city. She doesn't have a close family or friend group that she can let her guard down around so she is more defensive and aggressive. She will always resort to puns and nicknames though, they are her favorite way to let loose her giggling inner gnome. Not having grown up in a gnome household she feels even less of a connection to the gnome "community". That plus her odd choice of wearing a hat instead of braids and tails makes her an oddity to other gnomes, though not for the same reasons other races see her as an oddity.

While she did recently make the major purchase of a brand new Lucene Hammer; Fijit is generally a penny pincher. She saves whenever possible because you never know when the jobs will dry up or something around the house will break. After Ven died it all went to Fijit to take care of the house and herself thought she was barely 30. She is practical as much as she is whimsical, carrying with her rope as well as cool rocks. She's got a thing for all things shiny, she doesn't feel compelled to collect but damn if she doesn't think about it. 'You can't carry thirty pounds of cool looking rocks with you, BUT WHAT IF I NEED THEM' She managed to talk herself down to a single pound of rocks. (YOU NEVER KNOW, MAN).

Her house is covered in rocks and carpets and tapestries. Her favorite colors are gold and ruby. She can't cook well but knows a guy who makes good rations for cheap so that never stood in her way. She also likes to decorate with mirrors of varying sizes and shapes and tables staggered so she can climb about. She also knows there is at least two cats living with her but she has never been formally introduced to them, the sneaky bastards. She likes cats though, often wishing she had claws herself and that her teeth were pointier than they already are. It's the dream for close combat fighting when you're knee high to a butterfly.

Fijit generally takes bouncer jobs or works as hired muscle but sometimes she has to turn to competing in arena sports to make enough money to get through the week. She dislikes them not for the sake of the sport but for the jeering she tends to attract and how mad gamblers are when her "sure thing to lose” fucks them over. She's had to deal with many a drunk trying to take her on after she wins her match. She's been out of work recently, with the influx of physically larger races coming in from the sea and the general mockery of her coloration.

While she doesn't pray regularly or give offerings to any of the gods she does send up a quick prayer to Desna, the goddess of luck, when she is in a spot of trouble. It can never hurt to have a little divine luck on your side but she's not the type to put all her eggs in one basket or even bother with a basket at all. Surprisingly to some, Fijit actually adores how she looks and loves the color pink. She thinks it makes her that much more unsettling to humans and the like who associate it with sweet things. She's basically a horror movie in a hat.

Despite her chosen profession as a fighter, Fijit enjoys using her gnome magic on a daily basis. The spells make her remember her dad and come in handy for pulling pranks or acting as distractions as she may need them. She especially enjoys talking with animals, though she mostly sticks to birds, always having dreamt of flight herself. It's not a goal in her life, she has just always had dreams at night of flying on wings of silver over green water. No idea what that's about.

When she has extra money she either squirrels it away, gets some new rocks, or buys long lasting trail rations because, while more expensive than rations for other races, gnome trail rations keep her belly full on hard times and keep through the good times. She always has a week's worth on hand for emergencies. She can make that stretch three weeks if she budgets properly and supplements with a couple stolen items like bread and apples.

Fijits sweet fucking cavalier hat is a wide brimmed leather piece, one side folded up to show off her rad scars. It’s got some fabric hanging off of it to obscure her neck and to hide the scale mail under it that has protected her neck from many a cowardly blow to the back of the neck. She’s had this hat for a long while, through thick and thin and she’s not about to let it fall by the wayside on some foolhardy (and fun!) adventure. She would literally trade a teammate for her hat back. Don’t worry, she’d go back for them. Eventually.

Her outfit is made to bulk up her form so it includes padding on the hips, shoulders, and chest. Her boots include lifts that bring her up a couple inches to a whopping 2’7”. She has fingerless gloves to look cool and cut down on friction burn when doing stupid shit like clothesline ziplining or high fiving an orc. She wears scale mail lined leather breeches tucked into knee high armored boots. Her socks are alpaca wool and one of the loftier purchases she’s made in her lifetime. Her shirt is plain but her coat/vest combo is canvas lined mail and covered in pockets. Several of which contain cool rocks.

As a kid Fijit used to be close to her cousin, Vex but lost contact after his family moved away from Riddleport. They corresponded briefly but with her mother as an invalid she found less and less time for someone not directly in front of her. This sort of thinking proved to be true for her later friendships as well. If they weren’t the one to show up at her door and she hadn’t seen them for a few days they were out of sight and out of mind. Despite this she’s fairly personable and is good at insinuating herself into groups.

Fijit enjoys getting into wacky hijinks with a bunch of patsy's she’s never going to see again. Because of this Fijit rarely if ever gets caught since she is so small and good at hiding and is in good standing with the local gendarmes. Some knew her mother and came around to tea when she was a wee thing. They still give her a friendly nod in passing but nothing more than that. She luckily kept out of the eye of the worst of the crime bosses by sticking to more lawful work. This crippled her job prospects though and is now sacrificing her lawful good mothers strong ethics to try and find work from Saul Vancaskerkin.

#a sathem origional #text #fijit oddloom

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