#We have never truly heard his side of any of this ffs

[pleaseinsertwittyurl]

There are always 2 sides.

The discourse around Louis and Lestat being a victim and abuser and nothing more drives me insane.

Something i don't think enough people remember is that the very same reason the fight began in 1×05 (lestat grabbing claudia by the throat when she tries to "take louis away") we see Louis himself do to her in 1×07 when she tries to get Louis to burn Lestat.

They BOTH would harm her rather than live in a world without the other. They are both guilty of abusing her and each other.

There is an implication that a good deal of time passed between Louis and Lestat meeting and the church. Louis expresses that he shares himself with Lestat in a way he only had with Paul. I would assume that goes both ways, to a degree. We know Louis knows at least enough about Nicki to discourage Claudia poking that wound. He also clearly knows that the threat of leaving is his most powerful weapon against Lestat.

Mental abuse is abuse. And Louis abused Lestat mentally for years. Shaming him, ridiculing him, shutting him out, manipulating him into making Claudia (a traumatic moment for him, whether Louis understands the depths of it or not) by promising to give him what he's being denying him, promising to never put him through what he fears the most.

Louis admits to purposely making Lestat suffer. He admits he was warned that Claudia would suffer and he wanted her anyway because he needed to feel redeemed. He is not innocent. He is not a trapped, weak victim. He made choices to hurt both Lestat and Claudia time and time again.

Does this justify Lestat's actions in 1×05? Obviously not. But we now know Louis was not willing to stop the fight. He taunted Lestat the same way he taunted the Alderman. He was unleashing years of frustrations just as Lestat was. His priority was not to protect Claudia, it was to hurt Lestat, consequences be damned.

I hate the drop scene as much as the next person and Lestat has admitted he will never earn forgiveness for what he did. But if you view Louis as some squeaky clean victim who was manipulated, trapped, and abused by Lestat you are missing so much of what this show is conveying.

We will always tend to paint ourselves as the hero of our own story. It is hard to accept your faults or that you hurt people you love. It is much easier to shift that blame on to someone else, to frame them as the villian. But life is not usually that black and white. Claudia had harsh words for them both in her diary, even before they got to Europe, for a reason. They both made hurtful mistakes with her, both treated her like a pawn in their relationship instead of a person, both harmed her, took away her choice, never prioritized her.

That is the great tragedy. That she never had a choice and was not allowed to be her own person. And in the end, they both are responsible for her misery and her death. That's what makes the reunion scene so important. They have been grieving her and carrying that guilt alone, all the while longing for the comfort of the other for 70+ years. Louis has found clarity in his memories, he has accepted his role in their suffering, he has seen Lestat's perspective more fully. Lestat is broken, totally consumed with that guilt and grief. Both know that although they cannot change what they've done, they can forgive the other, even if they can't forgive themselves. They can love each other despite everything they've done to one another because they cannot stop loving each other. But now they can try to rebuild that love from the rubble.

[everybodysaynoooooo]

Save Me - Kim Taehyung ff [Chap II]

Synopsis: Two crowns are crumbling. One heir who won’t yield. And a bodyguard who stays just a little too close. In a world where masks fall faster than heads, he’ll have to decide who’s worth trusting —before everything falls apart. He wanted peace. He found war —and a bodyguard with more secrets than commands.

k.taehyung x f.oc

Words count : 9,3k

Genre : Kingdom AU, enemies to lovers, bodyguard x royalty, fluff, angst, smut

Chap content : Strong language, mild tension, Taehyung is kind of a dick, explicit violence (battle scene + side character's death at the end), no sexual content in this chapter but it might come later so minors dni !

Author Note : Chapter two's finally there ! Hope you'll like it (don't hesitate to tell me if so it makes my day :) Also I just wanted to say since I'm kinda slow writer, I'll try to update every two weeks at least, but I'll post sooner if I can !

Gentle reminder that all rights are reserved, so please do not copy, translate or repost my stories. Also I do not own BTS or their actions, the stories are fictionnal and does not depict real-life events or involve any actual member of BTS.

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When you live in the Kingdom of Irinian, even without being from there, you inevitably end up hearing about the royal family. Even I, a foreigner, had barely set foot on Irinian soil before people were already talking my ears off.

About how beautiful the Queen is. How angelic and adorable her children are. Every one of them a model for the people —each, without exception, a little perfect being.

How the two eldest princes make the maidens swoon all across the land.

How Princess Taeyeon is so radiant that no one can look away.

Then I got promoted, and the whispers changed.

People started telling me how some of the royal children treated their servants. I heard about Princess Taeyeon's frequent tantrums. About the arrogance of the two eldest princes. All the things the people would never dare to speak aloud.

When I was assigned this task, they kindly warned me about the Crown Prince’s temper. I gathered, vaguely, that he wasn’t too thrilled about being sent off to this northern estate.

What I didn’t gather, however, was that the moment we arrived —in the dead of night— he’d make me fight his strongest man in a duel to the death.

Charming fellow, to be sure.

Okay, maybe I went a little overboard. Maybe I shouldn't have been quite so insolent. Maybe.

But say what you want —His Highness is grumbling about being stuck in a magnificent castle just because he can’t be in the capital, blah blah blah— I've just spent five days on horseback without stopping, and I’d also very much like to go to bed. I can already feel the muscle aches I’ll wake up with tomorrow, so the only thing that truly matters to me right now is a soft bed and a blanket.

But no. On top of everything, I have to fight a duel because His Majesty is in a foul mood.

I knew I should never have agreed to guard the Irinian royal family. I only said yes because they promised I’d be looking after Princess Taeyeon —and I’m good with children. But a contemptuous twenty-five-year-old man who already acts like a king? No thanks. I’ll let Yoongi handle that one.

If only he didn’t already have his hands full with his own exuberant prince.

“So, Miss Min? What do you say?”

Prince Taehyung is watching me with that damned crooked smile I’d love to slap off his face —truly infuriating

I hold back from rolling my eyes, because that might well cost me my head. He looks so pleased with himself, it’s almost cute.

Instead, I nod.

“I don’t believe I’ve been ordered not to fight one of your men, Your Highness,” I reply in that polite tone he seems to loathe.

Bingo. That little smile disappears at once, replaced by a grimace and a dark glare. This close protection job is going to be a riot, I can tell.

Beside me, Yoongi stares at me wide-eyed. I don’t even have to look at him to know what he’s thinking: “Are you completely insane?!”

And maybe I am.

Accepting a duel when I’ve just dismounted after five days of travel, exhausted to the bone, might not be my brightest idea.

But the way the Prince implied I didn’t stand a chance —that irked me. I can’t stand not being taken seriously. And if I’m going to be insulted, I might as well treat it as a challenge.

Before I know it, the Prince is barking orders. We’re moved to the rear courtyard, hastily transformed into an arena by a few servants.

Improvised barricades form a large square, in the center of which the Prince’s knight and I now stand. A few torches are lit, casting a dim glow into the night —not enough to see every detail, but enough to fight, I guess.

Looking far too pleased with himself, the Prince leans casually against the barricade, a wolfish smile on his lips. He taps his golden rings against the wood as if to say, “You’re going to die, and I can’t wait.”

I answer with a glare. He chuckles.

If only it were him in the arena —I’d wipe that smile right off.

Yoongi hops over the barrier in one smooth motion and approaches me with my weapons in hand. I refocus instantly, already running through my options.

A sword, and the three daggers I usually hide in my boots and belt.

I grimace. I left my pistols packed with the rest of my things. With one of those, I could end this charade in two seconds —one bullet, between the eyes, done. But clearly, I’ll have to improvise.

“I didn’t find your pistols,” Yoongi mutters, like he’s read my mind.

We’re both trained fighters, but he knows as well as I do that marksmanship is where I truly shine. Too bad.

“This will do,” I say, offering a faint smile as I test the weight of the daggers. “Not sure His Highness would’ve allowed it anyway. Looks like he wants a show.”

Yoongi turns to observe the Prince, still watching with that infuriating smile.

“You’re completely crazy,” he mumbles, now sizing up the knight -Saer, If I remember well.

“What, you don’t trust me to win?” I tease.

“Of course I do,” he grumbles, wrinkling his nose. “I’m just saying you really didn’t need to piss him off like that.”

“He started it,” I retort with a raised brow, daring him to argue.

He doesn’t. Just shoots another glance at the Prince. I smile —he agrees with me, obviously.

I hesitate, hand hovering over the sword.

Yes, I can fence. And I’m not bad at it. But let’s be honest —when it comes to swords, reach is everything.

And this man is twice my height and like three times my weight. I’ll never get close without taking a hit first.

I’ll have to play this differently.

Gently, I push the sword away and instead grab one of the daggers, blade pointing down. The other two stay hidden —one in my boot, one at my belt.

Yoongi doesn’t ask questions. He just takes the sword back with his usual calm expression.

“I’m not wishing you luck,” he says as he walks away.

“That would be insulting,” I shoot back with a smile, which he mirrors with the look in his eyes. The scar over his right eye gleams brighter than ever.

Yoongi’s barely out of the “arena” when the Prince claps his hands.

“Well, now that everyone’s ready…”

I instinctively fall into position: back straight, feet shoulder-width apart, dagger gripped firm but flexible.

The knight does the same —straightens to his full, towering height (easily over two meters), and tightens his hold on his sword.

Right now, in the torchlight, he’s genuinely terrifying. His hand must be the size of my entire torso.

But I’ve faced worse.

“Duel to the death,” the Prince announces. “Anything goes, as long as it’s entertaining. I decide when it ends. No backing out. Questions?”

The knight glances at me as if asking whether I have any. I raise a hand.

“You said ‘anything goes’?” I ask when the Prince nods toward me. 

He chuckles.

“Getting cold feet already, Min?”

“I just want to make sure His Highness won’t mind if I damage his man.” I reply, tight-lipped.

He flinches. Behind him, Yoongi lets out the faintest smile —subtle enough that I’m the only one who notices.

“No risk of that,” the Prince scoffs, returning to his usual smug expression. Then he snaps his fingers. “Saer, whenever you like. Get rid of that eyesore so we can go to bed.”

I raise an eyebrow, unimpressed -did he really just call me “that eyesore”?— but I don’t even have time to reply.

The knight charges.

I barely dodge in time —his blade stops where my neck was a quarter of a second ago.

I see. Someone’s eager for sleep.

I take a few quick steps back, raising my dagger before me, tip aimed at him.

He sizes me up, eyes shadowed beneath thick brows in the dim light. 

“Let’s see what the special guard is made of,” the Prince hums behind us.

Saer and I size each other up.

One second.

Two seconds.

Then he strikes.

With a flick of my arm, I deflect his blow —the sound of his sword clashing against my dagger rings out loud across the arena, and even louder in my ears.

And just like that, I’m no longer in the mood for banter. One simple strike —frontal, no less— and stopping it already took more strength than usual. Worse: my arm is trembling.

With a sharp motion, I push his blade away and force my breathing to stay slow, steady.

This man is strong. Much stronger than me. I bet a single well-aimed hit to the head would be enough to knock me out. Not that I’m planning to let that happen.

I won’t last long if all I do is block. Sooner or later —sooner, most likely— he’ll figure out he’s got the upper hand when it comes to brute strength, and he’ll start swinging with real intent. And I won’t stand a chance.

So I need another approach.

And when strength fails, agility will have to do.

I let him attack once. Twice. Each time I parry with my dagger, just barely.

At the third strike, I fake an opening to the right —and when he shifts, fast, to aim there, I duck, push off with my legs, and dart forward— so fast he barely has time to react before the pommel of my dagger slams into his ribs.

He grunts, breath catching in surprise, and it gives me just enough time to step back —though not quite far enough.

As I retreat, he grabs the wrist holding my dagger. His grip is so tight I’m forced to let go, and with his other hand, he returns the favor: a punch to the jaw, delivered with the pommel of his sword.

I hit the ground hard, dazed by the sheer force of the blow. One more like that and he’ll shatter my skull.

I cannot afford to take another.

I get back up —not letting myself wince, not letting myself hesitate. I can’t look weak.

But instead of charging while I’m stunned, the knight waits. Sword still in hand, but unmoving. Watching me. Almost like he pities me.

And that’s when I hear it: the Prince, humming a little tune. Mocking.

Oh. I get it now.

Saer is putting on a show for his Prince.

Well. Let’s give them one, then.

In one smooth motion, I shift my legs into position, ready to spring back up —and just as Saer takes a step forward, I spin, grip tightening around my second dagger, and fling it hard.

His thick eyebrows shoot up as the blade sinks deep into his side.

Staggering, stunned, he clutches the wound by reflex —and that’s all I need.

I charge. A punch to the jaw. One to the stomach. A strike to the thigh, followed by a sweep to the ankle.

He crashes backward with a growl of pain —but not without dragging me with him. Reflexively, he grabs my sleeve, and before I can brace for impact, his arm is around my neck. He’s choking me.

I shut my eyes, hold in as much air as I can while hitting his arm with the flat of my hand, but it’s useless —his arm is the size of my thigh.

Just as I start to fade, I manage, somehow, to elbow him hard in the ribs —his grip loosens, and I don’t waste a second. A kick to the shin makes him howl.

I scramble away, breath ragged —but he’s faster this time, already charging with his sword. I can’t dodge.

Blood spurts from my wrist as his blade slices a clean, thin line through it. The skin blooms red instantly.

Another mocking tune from the Prince.

Instinctively, I cradle my wrist against my chest, but I stay upright. Fists clenched. Ready to hit him if he comes any closer —though I’m well aware my tiny fists are no match for his sword.

I have to face it: accepting a duel with a giant like him, right after a long journey and without so much as a warm-up, was probably the stupidest idea I’ve ever had.

Now my wrist is bleeding, and I’m about to embarrass myself in front of the Prince —and worse, in front of Yoongi. Who, of course, won’t let me live it down.

Saer advances, sure of his victory now that I’m disarmed. Instinctively, I back away, until I’m only a few steps from the arena’s edge.

And then —just as I’m starting to think I really put myself in deep troubles— I catch a glimpse of Yoongi on the other side of the ring.

Both of his black eyes fixed on me. His left eyebrow quirks in a silent question.

Something clicks in my mind.

Time to wake up, Harin.

Saer draws closer. I let him. One step. Two.

Then, just as he moves in range, I spin and leap toward the barrier.

Not to escape. To use it.

I push off it, vaulting high —right over Saer’s head.

He stares up, stunned, as I pull my second dagger from beneath my belt mid-flight and send it spinning into his other side.

His eyes widen, this time with pain, as I grab his head while soaring above him —and pull him down with me.

His skull and body slam into the ground with a deafening crash. Or maybe it just feels that loud because my ears are still ringing.

I land smoothly, knees bent, rolling to soften the fall —but as I rise, he grabs my ankle and yanks me down onto my stomach.

You’ve got to be kidding me. Is this guy unkillable?!

He tries to pin my arms. I roll onto my back to stop him. He tries to strike me; I knee him. Hard. Right where it hurts.

That finally stops him —but only for a second. Then he comes back, even angrier —and proving it with a punch to the stomach that knocks the breath out of me. It’s okay, though, I deserve it for being so stupid tonight. 

I can barely react before he grabs a handful of loose hair from my undone bun and holds me still by it. I wince —a small gasp of pain slips out, shamefully— and in one last desperate move, I reach for the dagger hidden in my boot and slash his calf.

This time he screams. Loud.

But he still doesn’t let go.

Desperation takes over. I grip the dagger tight and stab his thigh. Again. And again. Until finally, he releases my hair.

I’m up in an instant.

He tries to follow —and I kick him square in the face.

He groans, struggles to move… But I can already hear him getting back up as I bolt across the arena, legs burning, eyes locked on the only weapon still in reach: his sword, abandoned on the ground.

He starts running too —but too late.

By the time he reaches me, I’ve already got the sword in hand.

I spin, using the momentum to drive a kick straight into his chest. Right on the sternum.

He gasps, the wind knocked from his lungs, and collapses once more.

And then —I turn slightly, feet apart, arm extended, blade ready…

“THAT’S ENOUGH!”

The shout cuts through the arena like a blade.

Stillness falls.

Saer stares at me. I stare right back.

His Adam’s apple presses against the sword’s tip as he swallows, hands raised slightly, in surrender.

I glance at the blood already beading from the fine cut the blade has left on the side of his throat.

The look in his eyes isn’t the unreadable calm from earlier. Now he’s clearly startled. Frightened, even.

And —maybe I’m imagining it— but there’s a glint of admiration, too.

Then comes the sound of clapping.

I turn my head towards the sound —only to find Yoongi, lips curled in a subtle smile, applauding with measured approval.

The Prince, however, looks like he’s considering strangling me in my sleep.

“Your verdict, Your Highness?”

The Prince raises an eyebrow, jaw clenched tighter than ever. For a second, he seems almost more shocked that Yoongi would dare provoke him —when he’d always been the more respectful of the two of us.

The Prince presses his tongue against his cheek, pouring all his fury into the glare he sends me.

Then finally, he speaks.

“It seems the young lady is more capable than expected.”

He snaps his fingers.

Turns his back on us.

“Clean up this mess. I don’t want to hear another word about it.”

They say night brings wisdom.

All night ever brought me was time to stew in my own anger —and when that got too boring, sleep.

By morning, I was in a slightly better mood.

Yes, the decor in this castle is appallingly cheerful, but I’ll admit the welcome was decent —and the mattress was... passable. Though not nearly as comfortable as the one I have in the Capital.

But the key word here is slightly.

Maybe if the very moment I stepped out of my room, a servant hadn't rushed up to inform me my lieutenants were waiting in the war room to discuss the border situation, I’d have stayed in a decent mood.

Maybe if a second servant hadn’t chosen that exact moment to tell me I had an appointment the next day with Lord Ebonwick, I wouldn’t have started grinding my teeth before even having breakfast.

But most of all —maybe, just maybe, I could’ve kept a shred of peace of mind if I hadn’t learned immediately afterward that Miss Min’s quarters had been set up right next to mine, “in accordance with her new duties,” or some other absolute nonsense.

New duties, my ass.

Saer has always been my bodyguard, and that is not about to change. I don’t care if some random woman fresh out of nowhere managed to beat him in a duel by sheer dumb luck —it doesn’t change the fact that Saer is and will remain my bodyguard.

“What if we increased the guard detail, Your Highness? Perhaps it’s a question of numbers— ”

“The problem is not the number, Lieutenant. The problem is your men are dumber than headless hens.”

What did I say earlier? That I was in a better mood?

Yeah, let’s forget that.

“Your Highness...” Saer begins gently —but shuts his mouth quickly enough when I shoot him a look that could curdle milk.

I already know what he’s going to say. And, as usual, listening to him would probably be the wise thing to do —and that’s exactly what’s pissing me off.

Last night, after the duel, he joined me during dinner. First, to apologize for losing —which earned him a few sharp remarks on my part— and then to share his opinion about the woman. Min Harin.

I don’t think I’ve ever heard Saer speak about someone else’s combat skills with that kind of admiration —especially not an enemy who had just knocked him flat.

It’s rare enough to see women fight —they’re not allowed in the Royal Armies, though you do find them among mercenaries or in more specialized units, like the Special Guard.

But it’s even rarer to see one defeat a man like Saer.

Actually —it’s rare for anyone to defeat a man like Saer.

And yet when he described the fight, there was a flicker in his eyes. A flicker he tried to hide, but I saw it. Admiration.

And I get it —even if I’d rather die than admit it out loud.

I’ve been hearing stories about the Special Guard since I was old enough to understand words —hell, I wanted to join them once.

I used to spend days pestering every soldier I met, asking them to tell me everything they knew: what the Guard looked like, how they fought, what they wore…

None of it comes close to the reality.

What I saw last night —I’d never seen anything like it.

Saer described it better than I could: she didn’t move, she slid.

That’s how he put it. One moment she was in front of him, the next she was beside him, already striking, and he hadn’t even seen her move.

Every step was calculated. Every strike amplified by perfect footwork.

At first, she acted timid. I naïvely thought she was afraid, that she’d go down faster than expected—

And then she turned it up a notch, and I thought I was dreaming.

Her companion —Mr. Cat-Eyes— didn’t seem particularly shocked.

Every time I glanced over at him, he was watching the duel with this satisfied, sharp-eyed look.

The only moment his expression slipped was when she jumped.

As if she’d made a mistake —something so typical that it actually annoyed him.

And that’s what annoyed me.

Because from my perspective, she didn’t jump. She flew.

My ego would very much like to believe I could still beat her in a duel.

Throwing knives, vaulting over people —fine. But I was trained to be the best fighter in the Kingdom.

No woman, no matter how well-trained, is going to beat me.

But the annoying, rational part of my brain —because apparently, I do have one— keeps reminding me:

If she beat Saer, then all you’ve got, Taehyung, are hopes and delusions.

And I hate that. I hate that.

So yes. Maybe she belongs here. Maybe.

But as my personal bodyguard?

Over my dead body.

“Your Highness...” starts another voice —and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying not to growl.

When I open them again, I’m met with Saer’s gaze.

He’s silent, but there’s a pleading look behind it, just enough to push my irritation over the edge.

Last night, that idiot of an old man actually suggested I take her as my bodyguard.

He, who’s practically my bodyguard himself, told me I should replace him.

With the person who defeated him. In a duel.

I’m going to punch someone.

But the worst part?

The absolute worst was when he hinted that, since he’d be handling things at the border, he’d feel better knowing I was in Miss Min’s capable hands.

That I should maybe trust her.

Stupid Saer.

And stupid Father —he’ll pay for this circus, I swear it.

With a long sigh, I let my eyes drop to the border map spread across the ebony table.

And damn it, they’re right —the issue is the number of men.

If I send Saer’s regiment, we’ll have the numbers, and my best men will be there if things go wrong.

Which means I’m stuck here with the Special Guard...

“Figure it out,” I mutter. “Find a solution and inform me of the final decision.”

They all nod. Even Saer, who’s studying me like he wants to say something.

I can tell just by the way his eyebrows are slightly raised —he has something on his mind.

Not that I care. I’ve got bigger problems.

Like the one currently waiting outside, leaning casually against the wall. Hazel eyes locking on me the second I step out.

Peace? Never heard of it. Not in this castle.

“Your Highness,” Min says, clasping her hands behind her back and giving me a slight nod.

My eyes skim over her outfit —black again, simpler than yesterday. Just pants and a shirt, though I’d bet anything there’s a knife hidden somewhere.

Her hair’s simpler too —a bun still, but with loose strands framing her face.

I want to throw up.She’s already settling in.

“I told you to get lost,” I grumble, walking past her without another glance.

She waits a beat, then falls into step behind me. Five paces, just like etiquette dictates.

“I heard you, Your Highness.”

That falsely polite tone again. Almost makes me laugh —almost.

A bitter laugh, though. This woman really knows how to test my patience.

Instead, I stop, turn to face her, and plaster on a wolfish smile.

“Min?” I say, tongue pressing into my cheek to keep from snapping.

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“Just a bit of advice, if you care about that pretty face of yours. Stay far away from anywhere you’re not wanted. Which includes me.”

“You’re taking good care of my idiot, hmm?” I hum as I affectionately scratch behind the ears of Holly, Yoongi’s curly-haired mare.

“You do realize I’m right here, don’t you?” he grumbles, tightening the straps of a saddlebag.

“Oops.”

He grimaces at my smug little smile and rolls his eyes.

Yeah, he’s gonna miss me. No doubt about it.

“You gonna be alright?” I ask, a bit more seriously.

A few hours ago, they finally settled on the surveillance plan for the border, and picked the troops that’ll be deployed. Since Yoongi and his men were planning to head back to Hestidia to continue their search anyway, they decided to kill two birds with one stone and accompany the prince’s men to the frontier before splitting off.

Personally, I still think Prince Jimin would’ve been better off hiding here in Irinian —security’s tighter, and it’s a friendly kingdom— but Yoongi remains skeptical. Or rather, as he puts it, he ‘prefers to keep all options open and check out the more forgotten corners of Hestidia.’

Still, if I were Jimin, I’d have come straight here.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” he counters, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth. “Your Prince seems to adore you…”

“Oh, please.” I sigh. “Haven’t seen him since he found out his men were headed to the border, but I’d bet anything he’s currently trying to figure out how to get rid of me.”

Honestly, I’m still surprised the Prince allowed it. Just this morning, he looked dead set on keeping me as far from him as possible —and now he’s sending his captain off somewhere?

Saer came to tell me himself —supposedly so I could pass the message to Yoongi, but I’d put money on it being a not-so-subtle way of handing me the Prince. Like, here, take the problem off my hands.

“I’m almost disappointed I have to leave,” Yoongi snorts. “I would’ve loved to see where this petty drama of yours was going. My bet? He accuses you of spying for his daddy.”

“No worries. If that happens, I’ll send you a pigeon carrying my severed head.” I grumble, and Holly nudges me gently with her nose, like she’s offering moral support. Yoongi bursts out laughing.

He’s about to say something when one of his men comes jogging over.

“The Prince’s men are ready to depart, Lieutenant. We can head out.”

“Tell them to go ahead, we’ll catch up,” Yoongi replies, squinting at the sky, which is getting darker by the minute. “They need to leave before nightfall.”

The man nods and hurries off. Yoongi turns to me, lips tight in that way I know well —his face when he’s sad but trying not to let it show. Holly shakes herself out like she’s read the mood too.

“So I guess this is where we part ways?” I say, keeping my voice light, forced or not. It’s enough to make him smile, at least.

Before I can move, he pulls me into a hug and holds me tight.

“Don’t die on me, ‘Rin,” he murmurs into my hair.

“Not planning to,” I hug back, closing my eyes and soaking in his scent —the scent of home.

Shit. I’m gonna miss him.

“And you better not have a new scar the next time I see you, got it?” I mutter, pulling back just enough to glare at him.

He just smiles, of course. Why am I not surprised he’s proud of that stupid, ugly scar?

“Yes, ma’am.” He taps two fingers to his temple in a mock salute.

“Now go, soldier Min.”

He chuckles, watching as I give Holly one last scratch behind the ears. Then he swings into the saddle, and I follow them with my eyes as he and his men ride out of the castle courtyard, slipping into the forest the way Special Guard always does —like shadows dissolving into the trees.

I watch them until they’re completely out of sight.

There’s a bitter taste in my mouth. Like something’s off.

I trust Yoong —more than anyone— and I know how good he is at tracking.

So why do I have this unshakable feeling that they won’t find Prince Jimin in Hestidia?

Yoongi’s been gone for almost two hours now. Night’s fallen —much earlier here than it does in the capital, or even down south at Princess Taeyeon’s estate— and the palace staff is bustling from room to room, laser-focused, as they always are at this hour, getting dinner ready for the Prince.

Even the violinists sound off their game tonight. They’re playing with less energy, unsettled.

Apparently the Prince is especially cranky in the evenings —yeah, I’ve noticed, thanks— and now everyone’s walking on eggshells, terrified of provoking his wrath.

And the famous Prince himself, where is he while all this is happening?

Well… to be honest, I’ve been wondering the same thing.

When Yoongi and his men left, I figured maybe I should check in on him. Not necessarily to talk —those always end so well— but just to make it clear that Saer really is gone and I’m taking over from here.

Okay. Maybe to annoy him a little.

But when I tried to find him, he was just nowhere.

I checked every room in the palace. His study, his quarters, all four grand salons, and the three game rooms. I even went out to the back courtyard. Nothing.

So, with that special kind of desperation-fueled courage, I made my way to the stables. I’d overheard a servant saying he was particularly fond of his mare the other day —maybe he went to see her?

Imagine my surprise when I found the stall empty.

I just stand there, arms hanging at my sides, not even sure how to react. I haven’t even managed a single coherent thought before someone clears their throat behind me, and I spin around instantly.

My eyes land on a young man, can’t be older than me, with the most ridiculously red hair I’ve ever seen.

“Uh-I… Sorry to bother you, I just…” he stammers, hands lifted slightly like he’s showing he’s unarmed, save for the reins slung over his shoulder. “If you’re looking for the Prince’s mare, he already rode out with her a while ago…”

I gape at him, mouth half open.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“I’m sorry—what?” I snap, sharper than I intended, and he visibly pales.

“I-I swear!” he blurts, hands shooting higher. “He even asked me personally to saddle her up. I mean, I usually do anyway, but still…—”

He keeps babbling, and I rub at my eyes, biting down on my tongue to keep from cursing out loud.

I swear, I’m going to kill that idiot of a Prince.

A sigh escapes me —long, exasperated.

“...Is there a problem, ma’am?” the boy asks cautiously.

“Not at all,” I reply with a cheery tone so fake it should win awards. I even slap on a pleasant smile that seems to put him at ease. “Would you mind saddling my horse, please?”

"Another one," I mutter, slamming the glass down on the wooden counter a little too sharply, drawing the barkeep’s attention.

He eyes me, taking his sweet time polishing the glass already in his hand.

"That’d be your fourth, sir. I’d say it might be wiser to—"

"If it’s your coin you’re worried about, innkeeper, don’t be," I cut in, a smile stretched tight across my face. "I can more than afford your piss-poor excuse for wine. Another."

His features harden at that, and his cloth scrapes a little more roughly across the glass. But he glances at my clothes —clearly worth more than his entire tavern— and eventually grabs the bottle to pour me another, grumbling under his breath the whole time.

I barely take in the wine’s deep crimson before throwing back a generous gulp, letting it burn across my tongue. The taste is awful. Bitter, cheap. If I wanted quality, I’d have stayed at the palace. But it does the job —by the time I’ve swallowed, it hits me like a slap to the face. Like getting doused in ice water while you sleep.

It stings, but it wakes you up. Which is exactly what I need right now.

Everything’s moved so fast that —for the first time in my life, I think— I’ve felt out of my depth.

My father shipping me off to rot in Ebonwick, stripping me of nearly my entire personal guard, and to top it all off, assigning a spy to keep tabs on me, dressed up as a bodyguard under the pretense of protection…

I may have been careless these past few months. I knew Father was reactive —I just didn’t realize how much.

Clearly, we both saw the collapse of Hestidia as an opportunity.

I’m just a little insulted that he acted on it first.

Slowly —deliberately— I take another sip.

The bitterness scorches down my throat.

Everything was ready. The plan, the forces, the weapons. Every scenario was accounted for, every outcome considered. It was flawless.

Then the Council had to go and wake up —those idiots who only lift a finger twice a year, usually just in time to collect taxes— and the whole thing unraveled.

Jimin’s going to be furious.

But not as much as me.

I’m cornered. So much so that I don’t think Father even realizes just how well he’s played his hand.

If I’d had Saer and my trusted men at my side, I could’ve adapted. Closed the gap this sudden change created. But no. He had to assign me the royal guard —and a bodyguard who clings like a leech.

Now my inner circle is halfway across the kingdom, and I’m left with nothing but the leech keeping tabs on my every move.

Well —not every move. Main Exhibit: this absolutely vile wine.

We’ll have to start from scratch. Maybe even wait for another window of opportunity —but what better chance could we possibly get? The people are in crisis, the royal family’s paralyzed with fear… Even in the Irinian royal palace, which hasn’t seen a single threat or attack, the high ranks are jittery.

It was the perfect moment. And Father ruined it.

"You hear the news, barkeep? They say they’re sending soldiers to reinforce the border."

The gruff, gravelly voice to my left makes me wince. Some pudgy old man just dropped onto the stool beside me, spreading his elbows across the counter and invading a little too far into my personal space. Worse still, I can tell exactly where his spit landed —big, visible droplets splattered right there on the wood.

I bury my nose in my glass, clearly uninterested —but I seem to be the only one.

Because the moment the man speaks, the whole tavern leans in.

“Mmh, so they say,” the barkeep mutters, sounding none too pleased about the topic shift.

“I’d be curious to see them,” some toothless woman calls out, beaming. “Never seen one of the King’s soldiers up close. Wonder what they look like.”

The Prince’s soldiers —they’re the Prince’s soldiers, not the King’s.

I swirl the wine in my glass, now slightly less indifferent.

"You think it’s got to do with all that mess on the other side? Old Paul —the farmer— said he saw some men on horseback, dressed all in black, riding across his field..."

Mentally, I arch a brow. Cat-eyes must’ve taken a shortcut.

"I haven’t even kept up with that whole mess..."

"Well I heard from the guy who buys my cabbages —you know the one, across the border?" Everyone nods enthusiastically. "Well he said the next village over launched a full-blown revolt. Kicked out their Lord."

Gasps all around. Even the barkeep looks rattled.

And me? My eyes stay glued to the bottom of my glass —but my ears are sharper than ever.

One of Hestidia’s minor Lords has been overthrown? That’s… far quicker than expected.

None of us —neither Jimin, nor myself, nor anyone on the Council— had anticipated a revolt of that scale for at least several more months.

This information —handed to me by a bunch of lowborn drunkards, no less, to the shame of our own informants— changes everything. It speeds things up in a deeply concerning way. If we don’t act soon, these uprisings will spread like wildfire —before we’ve had a chance to prepare.

Because if one village had the courage to do this, it means others already have. Quietly. Successfully.

And it only makes me question how little we truly know about what’s happening in Hestidia.

Did Father hide it from me?

Or was he just as clueless?

"I’ll tell you what I think," the pudgy man from before chimes in again, loud and self-important. "I think those soldiers are nothing but damn hypocrites."

I freeze.

“They come out of nowhere, just when things start getting interesting across the border, and then suddenly they’re locking down the roads so tight Lars can’t even go sell his cabbages! If you ask me, they’re hiding something from us.”

“But… the King’s soldiers are there to protect us…”

“Protect us, my ass. They just don’t want us to see what’s happening over there —‘cause they’re scared we might get ideas.”

My fingers tighten around the stem of my glass.

“He’s right! Last winter, when that sickness wiped out half the region, it took them months to send help!”

“And when the vineyards went to hell and we had nothing left to sell, we had to go beg in the Capital —just to be treated like dogs!”

“They ignore us when we suffer, but when it’s time to take our sons for their worthless army, they’re right there! And it’s not like we’ve ever seen that army, have we?”

My jaw clenches —I don’t even notice it until my teeth start to grind.

“They don’t give a damn about us! We could die like rats, and as long as we pay our taxes, they couldn’t care less!”

That’s it. They’ve said enough.

The dull thud of my glass slamming onto the wooden counter cuts through the air like a blade, turning every head in the tavern toward me. I make no attempt to look composed, no effort to feign the gracious smile expected of a prince.

If they'd recognized me, none of them would’ve dared speak in the first place.

No —I let them see exactly what their gossip has stirred in me.

I’ll admit I don’t hold much esteem for my father.

I’ll admit I sometimes find him weak, too lenient, too passive.

And I don’t doubt for a second that closing the border is, at least in part, a way to prevent Hestidian rebellion from spilling into Irinian minds.

But I’ll be damned before I let anyone say my father doesn’t care for his people.

Especially when that’s nearly the only thing he does care about —and the only thing he’s always done right.

I won’t sit back and watch as everything he’s built —everything he’s given them— gets pissed on like slop thrown at pigs fattened for the slaughter.

“If you want to cross the border and die in Hestidia, be my guest. No one’s stopping you.”

The whole room stares. It doesn’t stop my voice from ringing out sharper, clearer, and far more dignified than any of theirs. Colder, too.

Silence falls. Thick. Heavy.

Broken only by the ticking of some old clock hung above the barkeep’s head. Then, slowly, the fat man turns toward me.

“And just who do you think you are, boy?” he growls, his voice like phlegm curdled in tar. There’s a hint too much menace in it for my liking.

I don’t answer. Don’t even look at him —I’d rather gouge out my own eyes than rest them on that mess of grime and lard he calls a face.

“Go on, be ungrateful,” I say, voice like ice over glass. “Keep whining about misfortunes no king on earth could control. Wallow in self-pity, if that’s all you know how to do. But know this —while you curse a neglect that exists only in your thick skulls, it’s the King’s eldest son who’s been sent in person to help you. And this” I gesture around the room “this is how you repay him. By dragging his name through the dirt.”

The man lets out a wet, wheezing laugh.

“The eldest son? The Prince?” he spits. “Don’t make me laugh. That spoiled brat can probably barely lift his silver spoon to feed himself. He came here? That’s a good one. Never seen him leave his golden palace.”

He scans the room and receives the eager nods of his fellow pigs —emboldened by the scent of shit they’ve all been wallowing in.

Fueled by their cheers, he leans over and shoves my shoulder, trying to force my eyes toward his.

“The Prince is nothing but a coward. Hides behind his title while we break our backs in the fields! Let him come here —we’ll show him what real life looks like. He’ll run back to his daddy’s skirts in tears.”

This time, I don’t look away.

I meet his gaze, steady, as he spews his filth. Insulting a man he doesn’t even realize is in front of him.

Insulting the Crown, directly.

Once upon a time —under other kings— people lost their heads for far less.

I don’t know if I’m furious, or just stunned.

No one has ever dared speak to me like this.

And I can’t quite tell if I find it thrilling… or insufferably irritating.

“Kneel, peasant,” I say through clenched teeth. The command sounds like a threat, even to me.

He chuckles. Tightens his grip on my shoulder in a mock-friendly pat.

“Well then,” he sneers, “you tell your coward of a prince this from me: Go fuck yourself.”

And that’s when I smile —slow and sharp.

Because his gall almost makes me laugh, even as it makes my skin crawl.

But it’s not the insult to my title that stings.

No, it’s that word.

I’ve been called many things in my life. Arrogant. Cruel. Condescending.

I’ve been accused of scheming, of injustice, of manipulation —often fairly.

I’ve accepted all of it —because a lot of it is true.

But I’ll never let anyone call me a coward.

Slowly, I lift a hand and place it against the side of his face —mirroring his false friendliness, still smiling like a wolf.

“Tell him yourself,” I say.

And the next moment, my other hand grabs the glass and smashes it into his face.

He crashes backward, blood pouring, screaming.

Not dead —unfortunately— but definitely regretting his life choices.

Chaos erupts. People are yelling, running  —some to help him, some for the exit, some straight at me.

With a disdainful sniff, I rise from my stool and brush off my shoulder where his greasy paw had dared to rest. I’ll need to wash this shirt when I get back.

The barkeep stands frozen, eyes wide like he’s seen a ghost. Without glancing at the man on the floor, I untie the small pouch at my belt and toss a gold coin onto the counter. It lands with a bright clink.

The barkeep’s eyes nearly fall out of his skull. That coin alone could probably buy the whole tavern.

A crowd forms around the man on the ground, now mercifully silent —thank the gods, my ears were about to start bleeding. One woman stands up, tears brimming in her eyes, and points a trembling finger at me.

“He killed my Joseph!” she cries.

Immediately, the place erupts again —louder this time. I can pick out the insults, the outraged shrieks.

I snort. Oh, please. Killed him? Sure, I knocked some teeth loose —maybe more than a few— but dead? Hardly.

I may be many things, but even I have limits.

I don’t kill my subjects.

I punish. I beat. I sentence.

But I’ve never killed one of my people, and I never will.

I guess I have some of my father in me after all.

Not that anyone here knows that.

Because the next thing I hear is some genius yelling, “Do the same to him!” and suddenly, the whole tavern is lunging for me —and what was indignation turns into a full-blown riot.

But honestly? I choose to always see what life brings me as an opportunity.

It’s been days since I’ve wanted to hit something.

Looks like today’s the day.

The first ones reach me faster than I would’ve expected, given they’re half-drunk, bone-weary peasants. But apparently the sudden commotion sobered them up —just not enough to be even remotely threatening.

Three of them jump me —three against one, how charming, the sense of fair play— and try to grab my arms while one aims a punch at my face.

Have I mentioned I’m pretty decent in a fight? Not that it matters here. Even drunk —which, I’d like to point out, I am not— I could’ve handled a bunch of sickly barflies trying to subdue me. I barely have to shake them off before two let go —one even topples backward without me touching him. When the third lunges with his fist raised, all I have to do is step aside and let his own momentum trip him up.

I look down at the trio trying to scramble back up, one brow arched. Funny, I’d been told I’d be in for a rough time. So far, this is just... disappointing.

More drunkards from the tavern follow, taking their shot, and I quickly resign myself to putting off my ‘unwinding session’ —there’s no way I’m hitting any of them.

I’m well aware the peasants in my kingdom don’t exactly live the healthiest lives —quite the opposite, really— but I hadn’t realized alcohol turned them into barely-functioning vegetables. Most of the time, I just need to wait for them to charge and sidestep. They go down on their own.

I don’t regret hitting that man earlier —he damn well deserved it— but I’ve got no desire to lay a hand on the others still trying to reach me. First, because that would mean actual contact with their skin —no thank you— but mostly because I’m afraid I’d seriously hurt them. Which would annoy me, sure, but would definitely land me in trouble.

So I do the one thing I’ve always mocked my father for: I stay passive.

I don’t strike, don’t even try. I just dodge and let them crash into beams, walls, or each other.

…At least, until one of them manages to reach me and slaps me. Just a light tap, really, barely audible. But it’s enough to snap me back to life, just like the wine earlier.

The slap I return across his face is probably ten times harder —but fair’s fair, I say.

They, in turn, snap out of it at the crack of that hit and all charge at me —and when I say all, I mean everyone. Even the old lady without a single tooth.

They grab at my arms, my legs, one gets an arm around my neck while someone else tugs on my hair —my hair, for fuck’s sake!— and one particularly brave idiot latches onto my waist like a leech.

It feels like I’ve gone back in time, like I’m wrestling my little brothers again —back when their idea of “fighting” was to hang off me until I stopped moving and then punch me wherever they could reach.

With a groan of exasperation, I twist, using the momentum to swing the three clinging to my arm directly into the massive wooden beam next to us. They take the hit square in the ribs, hard enough that I don’t feel a thing.

Now free, I grab the first head I can reach —somewhere near my stomach, gods— and hurl it away from me. The peasant screams, lets go, and rolls until he slams into a wall.

At this point, the ones clinging to my legs aren’t even trying to hurt me anymore —they’re just wrapping their arms around my calves like their lives depend on it. I’m forced to smash my right leg against my left in a thoroughly unchivalrous move to shake them loose. They crash into each other with satisfying grunts.

When I finally manage to shake them all off, a sigh escapes me —long and weary.

I dare anyone to say I’m not close to my people now.

Except I barely get a breath in —just long enough to start processing how borderline humiliating that was (thank the gods no one from the Capital saw it, I’d be the kingdom’s laughingstock)- when the tavern door slams open with a thunderous crash. A dozen peasants barge in, this time armed with pitchforks.

“There! That’s him!” yells a short man —one I recognise as one who escaped earlier— as he points directly at me. He’s addressing a taller man, a little older than me, the only one here actually wearing armor —leather, but still.

“In the name of the King, I’m placing you under arrest!” the man declares. His face hardens —and before I can even think oh no or notice the crossbow in his hands, he raises it, aims, and fires.

Straight at me.

There aren’t many things that scare me —and certainly not drunk peasants— but having a bolt fly toward your face at top speed would unnerve anyone.

Especially when it’s moving so fast you barely have time to flinch.

I think about dodging, about doing something, but even I know it’s too late. Fired like that, point-blank, with nothing between it and me, there’s no way he’ll miss.

And as my eyes lock onto the bolt and I nearly close them, breathing in sharply—

…—The bolt stops. Just inches from my face.

“I believe that was my line,” says a calm, restrained, unmistakably female voice that I know well enough to snap my eyes back open.

And I am stunned.

There, standing directly in front of me, is Min —looking more furious than I’ve ever seen her— her long, elegant fingers curled tight around the bolt that nearly split my skull in two.

And as the projectile trembles slightly in her grip, the heavy silence in the room gives us all time to process what just happened.

She caught the bolt. With her bare hand.

“What the…” mutters the crossbowman, stunned. He lowers his weapon slightly —just enough for Min to seize her opening.

He doesn’t even get the chance to say anything else before she pulls a pistol from her belt and shoots him. Clean, between the eyes.

Right where the bolt would’ve hit me.

The tavern is so quiet we can hear the exact moment his body hits the floor.

We also hear the soft crunch as Min slowly turns toward me, her eyes —usually hazel— now pitch-black with fury, and breaks the bolt between her fingers, never looking away.

The sound makes me flinch. It’s humiliating.

With a gesture that seems calm —but that, to me, radiates rage— she tosses both halves of the bolt to the ground and gives me a mock-respectful nod.

I’m not sure whether it’s the shame or the rage that burns the hottest in my veins right now.

What I do know is that I’ve never wanted to hit something so badly. If I could punch her porcelain-perfect face, I would. Happily. But I don’t hit women. So anything else will have to do.

And somehow, my beloved subjects seem to pick up on that right away.

“KILL THEM!”

What follows is too fast for me to remember clearly.

Min and I are swarmed. The newcomers —armed with pitchforks and makeshift spears— are more coordinated than the drunks from before. They know how to wield their weapons, how to throw punches, and dodging them all is a challenge. And I hate that just as I start thinking I’m doing pretty well, I catch sight of Min behind me.

She reaches out and grabs the hair of a man sneaking up behind me, then yanks him forward so hard his head crashes into another attacker coming for her.

If someone had told me I’d live to see a woman take down two men at once and cover my back in the process, I wouldn’t have believed it.

Seeing it in real time makes it so much worse.

I’ve always liked to think I’m a decent fighter. Ducking blows, landing punches, using the space and stray chairs to my advantage without taking more than one or two hits —it’s child’s play. Especially against peasants, weapons or not.

But watching Min for just one second makes it crystal clear she’s in a different league.

She moves like air —every strike, every dodge, is so fluid it looks like she's dancing.

Me? I grumble, simmer in my anger, and lash out at whatever’s closest. She? She watches. Analyzes. And then she dances.

When she spins and kicks a man straight in the gut —she dances.

When she drops backward to avoid a pitchfork and pulls it forward to disarm her attacker —she dances.

When she uses the bar counter to leap onto a man’s shoulders and slam him into three of his buddies —she dances.

And when she spots the biggest brute of them all heading straight for me —clearly deciding I need something to vent my rage on? She dances, eyes gleaming like she’s having the time of her life.

The giant takes my first punch to the jaw. Chokes on the second, a hard blow to the gut. Whimpers as I hit him again, square in the face. And finally collapses when I land a furious kick that sends him crashing backward.

The floor shakes under his weight.

Silence falls again, broken only by the sound of my ragged breathing.

But I’m not out of breath because I’m tired —no, this is the kind of panting rage leaves behind.

Gods, that felt good. I might feel guilty tomorrow for causing a scene —well, probably not— but either way, I can’t deny it: that was satisfying.

Right now, I almost feel… relaxed.

I need a bath. I need to scrub off the filth these peasants rubbed on me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot the innkeeper peeking out from behind the bar. When Min sees him, she pulls a pouch from somewhere and tosses him another gold coin. He doesn’t need to be told twice : he grabs it and vanishes without a second of hesitation.

Min turns to me, silent, her eyes still burning with that same fury —though a bit dimmer now.

Is she expecting me to thank her for saving my life? I sincerely hope not. The move may have been impressive —I didn’t even know that was physically possible— but I’d rather die than thank her.

I could be thankful she came just in time —because heck, I hate to admit it, but I don’t have a single clue what would’ve happened to me if it wasn’t for her suddenly spawning— but I don’t really feel like it. 

So instead, I glare at her.

“You just killed one of my subjects,” I say flatly, accusatory.

She bows her head slightly to slip the pistol back into her belt —and I swear I see her roll her eyes.

“I killed a man who attempted to murder the future King.”

My eyebrow lifts, surprised. Why, of all people, am I surprised she’s the one calling me that?

Her gaze locks back onto mine, voice perfectly steady as she speaks her next words:

“And I’d do it again if I had to. But next time, Your Highness? Just do me a favor —if you want a drink, ask me.”

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[clementinechatsshit]

money, power, glory - coriolanus snow x plinth!oc

description: rhea plinth wanted one thing more than anything in this world. power. this is her story of descending into the hunger for power. the addiction to it. and if she can love through this hunger.

tw: 18+ standard hunger games shizzle, strong language, spice, toxic relationships, power hungry bitches, rhea is just as twisted as snow

a/n: hi peeps, this is my first attempt at writing anything ff related, but coryo has been in my brain since i read tbosas. i didnt want to write him ooc but rather embrace the fact that he is bat shit crazy and create a character that also embraces and encourages that side of him. i dont think ive read any ffs that have a reader/oc that is also as fucked up as snow. pls be nice

What is the purpose of the Hunger Games? 

I used to think that they were to bring justice to Panem. To punish the districts for the uprising. We’d always been taught that, and I believed it. Yet, now I see things a little differently. I see things for how they truly are. I was eighteen when I learnt the truth about the Hunger Games. How they are played, and how they are really won.

‘Rhea?’ a voice echoes from behind me. I snap my head around to see my brother leant against the frame of my bedroom door.

‘Sejanus, what have I said about knocking’, he flinches at my response, my tone harsher than intended. 

He lowers his gaze to the blazer in his grip, cowering from the hardened stare I deliver his way. ‘I’m sorry’ weak, ‘we’re going to be late’. 

I turn to fully face him, lifting my face to a content smile. My heels clack on the marble flooring as I cross the room, I pause for a second in front of him, waiting. Sejanus holds his elbow out for me to link my hand through, my gloved hand brushes the soft thread of his shirt as an avox approaches and hands me my purse. 

‘Bye, mother!’, ‘See ya, Ma’ we shout as we leave the penthouse. Sejanus never stopped calling our mother ‘ma’, juvenile if you ask me. Sometimes I think he wants to be back in the districts.

The red silk of my dress grazes the bottoms of my calves as we make our way to the car, another avox our driver. I see avox’s as the perfect company, they know their place in this society, even if they did have to learn it the hard way. They know that they have no power, they have accepted that there are consequences to their actions. They don’t talk back either. 

‘The Academy’ a demand, not a request. 

‘Please.’ Sejanus adds

The Academy. Only the elites have the privilege of attending, and only the greats go on to study at the University. We may not be Capitol born, but we belong there more than anybody else. For ten years, I have been proving my place amongst my fellow students, before I even set foot in the Capitol, I knew I am simply better than them all.

I entered first. Shoulders back, chin up. Make them stare. The first thing I know about power. If you can’t command a room, you have none. I felt the eyes on me as I strode in, then I heard the whispers. I had power, you see, I have their attention when I give them none. I glance around the room attempting to find someone worth a morsel of my time, when I hear his voice.

‘Rhea Plinth’, that is a voice I would never tire of hearing.

‘Coriolanus Snow’ I acknowledge him, giving him a once over. The pinstripes of his dress shirt, dated, yet he made it look like an arising trend in the Capitol. A rose tucked into the formal vest. He was handsome indeed, a shame about the mismatched tesserae buttons. I placed my hand into his outstretched palm, watching him raise it to his lips as he leant down and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it in greeting. 

‘Rhea, can you just get it over and done with, Snow won the Plinth Prize, didn’t he?’ the bratty whine of Arachne Crane interrupted.

‘I can’t confirm anything’, power, ‘however, I can say things will get interesting this year.’ my voice almost sultry as I spoke directly to Coriolanus, not even bothering to turn to Arachne. 

‘Now, Coriolanus, walk with me?’ a huff sounds from beside us as we turn to leave the hall. 

‘Won’t people suspect something?’ I feel his breath on my neck as he hunches down to be level with my ear.

‘They’ll just assume I’m telling you about the prize’, I remain facing ahead, the doors to the adjoining hallway open. A rare smile hooks at the corners of my mouth as we round the corner, a pillar shielding us from the curious eyes of anyone passing. 

‘Ah yes, Miss Plinth doing her duty as the liaison for the prestigious Plinth family.’ His mocking tone forces my eyes to roll, as we slowly step backwards. I may be the representative of the Plinth family for all intents and purposes, but with Coriolanus, I don’t have to be. See, I know who he really is, I know that his family has no money, I’ve seen the apartment they live in. Deep down, I know that all he sees in me is District, but I am the one thing that stands between him and the power he craves. That’s why we have this arrangement. I secure his future in the Capitol, and he makes sure that no one will ever see me as district again. 

I’m drawn from my thoughts as my skin hits the cold wall behind me, a hand snaking its way around my waist. A hooked finger nudges my chin, lifting my gaze to meet the piercing blue eyes looking down at me. The intensity of his stare is almost intimidating. His grip changes as he strokes a fallen piece of hair behind my ear. 

‘You look pretty like this,’ he murmurs, leaning in. His lips graze mine and I feel him inhale. Like he’s breathing in my surrender. I crash my lips against his, our noses bumping against each other, but neither of us minding. His lips are rough against mine, more aggressive. You look pretty like this. I look pretty when you think you have control over me.

I reach my hands around his neck, tangling my fingers into the blond curls. I tug once, he groans, I tug again. Who’s in control now, Coryo. He squeezes my waist and I sigh into the kiss. Our whole exchange is a power play. His tongue slips into my mouth as he reaches his hand lower, and lower. Maybe I could give in this once.

The echo of someone clearing their throat shatters the tension between us. Coriolanus takes a few instinctive steps back as I swing my head around to look at who dared interrupt us. 

Dean Casca Highbottom.

‘Mr Snow, Miss Plinth. I assume you are heading into the hall to hear the announcement?’ He looked disgusted, disappointed. 

‘Yes, of course, Dean Highbottom.’ Coriolanus responded instantly, leaving me standing with the Dean, marching back into the grand hall, his hands reaching up to fix his hair

‘They can’t make the announcement without me, Casca. You know that,’ I give him a knowing look before following Coriolanus’ lead. I look back over my shoulder to see the Dean opening a vial and consuming the contents. 

I found Coriolanus standing with my brother and another girl from our class, Dovecote, Clemensia I believe. I give her a slight nod as a hello, not wanting to waste my breath on her. ‘Hello Sejanus, Coriolanus.’ glancing up at the boys, flashing a quick smirk at them.

‘Rhea, where were you?’ Sejanus queries, his brows furrowed, ‘you’re meant to be naming the winner.’ 

‘Brother mine, you worry too much. Besides, there's been a slight change in plan.’ This is power. Knowledge. Money. 

‘Can everyone take their seats,’ the instructions come from one of the teachers at the Academy.

I leave the group and make my way up to the podium, passing Dean Highbottom on the way. The room silences as I ascend the stairs. As I glance down to the crowd, I catch Coriolanus’ eye, he looks hopeful. He needs this prize. To anyone else, it’s about the title. To him, this is everything. 

‘My father, Strabo Plinth, has been gracious enough, over the years, to provide incentive to those at the Academy in the form of the Plinth Prize. An award bestowed upon the student who excels in every aspect of their education. An honour for any student who wins it.’ my voice strong, conductive, they are hanging on my every word. Power. I see Arachne glare over at the blond boy, they all think they know. They all think he has won. ‘This year, we want to make things harder, create more of a challenge. This year, myself and my mentor, Dr. Ghaul, want you. The top twenty-four. The elite. To become mentors yourselves.’ slight muttering begins to spread around the room. ‘This reaping day, you will be assigned tributes, you will guide them, make spectacles of them, and one of you. You will create a victor.’ 

The voices become louder, anger begins to bubble. Arachne is already complaining, Sejanus looks horrified. But Coriolanus, he is furious. And me, a large grin spreads its way across my face.

Now this. This is power.

[roll-da-credits]

A Day In The Festival - Reiner x Reader

Word count: 1k

What better way to spend time with your lovely boyfriend than a date at a festival? Though things don't go quite as planned.

A/n: This was ALL because of that one anon who made me think NON-STOP about Reiner. Like, I don't like this man AHAHAHAHAH I REALLY DON'T. But ffs, he deserves so much more than what life can offer ngl (FYI the reader is Eldian living in Paradis). I hope you guys enjoy this and requests are open so please send in your requests!!! Thank you!!!

🖤❤️🖤

With a festival coming very soon, you couldn’t wait to spend it with Reiner. He had been gone in Paradis for way too long, and even though he came back somewhat different than what he was before. You truly didn’t mind it.

Reiner was still Reiner. He must’ve seen terrible things back in Paradis, whether it being the swarms of Titans there, the death of Marcel, or even facing the fact that he killed that many people. Even if they were considered Devils, you realized all those years of lying, killing, and spying really took a toll on his mental health.

So, what better way to relax, than a festival. Smiles and cheers everywhere, food as far as the eye can see, not to mention the unique sights. It was a beautiful event. Unsurprisingly, people around you were also excited, this included the new warrior candidates, and Reiner actually. Hence you had decided on a small date walking around the festival and seeing what it has to offer.

“Uhm, this is for you.” Reiner awkwardly held out a small bouquet of beautiful flowers when he met you, “You look amazing.” Here he was the man you fell in love with. Already flustered, just because of you dressing up.

You laughed before taking the flower from him, “Thank you, and you look the same always.” He looked at you with a stunned expression, “Handsome as always.” Reiner chuckled at your remark, feeling his nervousness slipping away from your lighthearted comments.

The morning went on rather peacefully, you bought some breakfast from some booths and ate them happily with Reiner. You were about to walk around even more and maybe even find him a gift, but the two of you ran into four kids you recognized pretty well. Zofia, Gabi, Udo, and Falco.

They were in awe at the festival sight before them, “I wonder what they’re up to.” You spoke before pulling Reiner up towards them.

A small twinge of guilt hit your chest when they opened their bags, only to see them empty without money. As if sensing both yours and Reiner’s presence there, the four of them looked up to both of you with the best puppy eyes they could manage. Begging the two of you silently to buy them food and some goods.

You looked to the side to your lover and saw his usual stoic expression cracking, he was weak towards these four kids after all. You laughed out loud, before wrapping the four kids in a hug, “Pick whatever food you guys want. Reiner and I'll pay.”

With that, the four kids cheered and dragged the two of you towards different kiosks. On your way to the first kiosk, the two of you ran into Porco.

“Oy, what are you kids doing???” Porco questioned them with an amused look. It wasn’t every day seeing a warrior and a soldier getting dragged around by four kids.

Gabi beamed at the question, “Reiner and Y/n are paying for our food!!!” Reiner visibly groaned beside you, knowing exactly what Porco’s reaction will be.

“Waaaa???? Oy Reiner! Pay for me too yeah?” Porco smirked rather devilishly towards your lover. Once again, laughter spills out your lips like sweet honey, “Give him a break, I’ll pay for you Pock.”

“OY DON’T CALL ME THAT!”

In the first kiosk the, now 5 people, bought some bread. All of which paid by you and Reiner, though you did buy one for yourself to share with him too.

After they were finished, Gabi and Falco quickly dragged the two of you back to a different kiosk. Porco, Zofia, and Udo following suit not too far behind. Yet on the way, once again you’re met with a familiar face, Pieck.

“Good morning Pock, what are you doing following a couple on a date and these kids?” Gabi snapped her head towards the two of you in feigned disgust, “You guys were on a date?!”

Reiner shrugged, “We were.” He said a little flatly. “Reiner and Y/n are paying for everyone’s food.” Porco spoke towards Pieck, “Well then, mind if I join in?”

Reiner agreed knowing for a fact, that even if he refused, you’d either insist that it was okay or Pieck would follow along. At the next kiosk the kids bought a sandwich (ik it’s not a sandwich but calling it a sub would be weird, so bear with me), Porco and Pieck didn’t want any. Much to the relief of Reiner.

But in the next kiosk, all six of them wanted to buy pizza. And again, both you and Reiner were the ones who paid for it. You saw him sulk even more now, most likely less due to the fact of him having to spend a lot of money, but losing time he wanted to spend with you.

“Hey don’t look so down, look at how happy they are.” You nudged his sides after he finished paying, motioning to the now laughing kids. “I don’t remember even being THAT happy when I was a warrior candidate.” You spoke to him.

The both of you met as warrior candidates, though he was lucky enough to actually become a warrior, whilst you settled with a soldier position. “Well yeah, festivals don’t come very often.”

Reiner wasn’t even looking at the kids you were so intently watching at this point. He was staring at you. Observing the little details in your face, the way you lightly scrunched your eyebrows when Udo tripped, or when the sides of your lips twitched upwards ever so slightly whenever you saw them laugh.

When you got tired of him not responding to anything you were saying, you looked in his direction. Only to lock eyes with him almost immediately. “Why are you looking at me? You dork!”

You smirked towards him, wrapping your arms around his waist in a small hug. “You’re too incredible.” Reiner’s straightforwardness quickly made you flustered and looked away. But one of his hands reached towards your chin to make you face him again.

He leaned in closer, and so did you. When your lips did touch a few groans of displeasure suddenly resonated. The two of you pulled away and looked towards the source.

Zofia, Udo, Gabi, and Falco were watching the two of you and made fake gagging noises to show their displeasure. “The both of you are gross,” Gabi remarked before taking Reiner’s hand in hers and pulling him towards another kiosk.

You laughed once more when Zofia took your hand as well, and dragged you, albeit softer than Gabi, towards where they were going. Even from in front of you, Reiner heard your small laughter and chuckles. He cherishes them, around him right now were the sole reasons for his happiness. An incredible lover who always wishes for the very best for him, and a few humorous children who never fail to create trouble.

He wished he could pause this moment in time and forever live in it.

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Love or Duty by GleefullyCaptainSwan - Chapter 7/8

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @deckerstarblanche

Chapter 7: The Gift of Nobility

Emma stared wistfully at the horizon from her place on the balcony. The last week had been a whirlwind affair, they had made the trek from Misthaven to Jonesboro immediately after Prince Liam’s arrival. Regina’s forces were advancing closer to both Kingdom’s, the destruction she was leaving in her wake was causing the villagers to panic. Both King David and King Brennan realized that they needed to act fast if they were going to unite their people against the cause.

Emma looked down at her dress, the white fabric flowing onto the floor as she spun around. It should be the happiest day of her life, her wedding day. The tears slid down her cheek as she thought about giving herself to Prince Liam, knowing that she would forever belong to Killian. The pair had been separated once they arrived at the castle in Jonesboro, and Emma was cautious not to be caught alone with the younger brother of her betrothed.

“I found it.” Her mother entered the room with her tiara in her hand. “This will look perfect with your…” She paused, taking in her reddened cheeks and swollen eyes. “Emma, are you quite alright?”

The tears fell quicker down her face as she tried to take a deep breath. “I’m fine. I just…” She sucked in her breath. “I always thought I would be doing this with the man I loved and now…” Sobs escaped her throat as she threw herself down on her bed.

She felt the bed shift behind her, and her mother’s fingers slipped into her hair. “My dear sweet Emma don’t cry. I’m sure you will learn to love Liam, maybe not today, but one day.”

“But he’s out there, the man I love, waiting for me, he’s real.” She said through her tears, knowing how hard it was going to be today to walk out there and marry the brother of the man she loved. “I can feel my heart breaking knowing I can’t be with him.”

“Emma, maybe Liam is that man.”

“The man I love is not Liam Jones.” She said angrily. “My heart belongs only to the man I love.”

“Then you should follow your heart.” Her mother sighed, causing Emma to sit up and stare into her eyes with hope. “Instead of following this thought of yours that Liam could not possibly be the one you love, perhaps you can follow your heart and it will lead you right to him after all.”

Emma groaned and threw herself back onto her bed. If she followed her heart she would walk straight into Killian’s arms! “You do not listen.”

“Oh Emma, you are being childish, it’s time to grow up and become a woman.”

“I am a woman.” She stated angrily. She wanted to shout at her that she was a woman in more ways than her mother realized but she knew it was pointless. She needed to follow her duty, her responsibility and appease her family. She stood from her bed and walked over to the window. “Can we just get this over with?” She said dryly, her mother moving behind her to place the tiara on her head.

“One day, you will look back on this day as the day when your entire world changed. The day you blossomed into a beautiful woman, a wife, and the future Queen of Jonesboro.”

Emma rolled her eyes as she faced away from her mother. “Of course, you are most wise.” She said sweetly. “Thank you mother.” She turned and wrapped her arms around her mother. “I’m sure you need to prepare; I will be alright on my own.”

“Are you sure?”

“I promise.” She smiled, and her mother hesitantly walked away, leaving her alone in her room. One day, she would look back on this as the day hope died and light faded to black. She heard the door open behind her and she exhaled. “I told you I was fine, mother.”

“You look stunning.”

She spun around quickly at the sound of his voice. “Killian, what are you doing here?” She rushed toward him, her hands burying themselves in his hair as she pulled him toward her, their lips crashing together in a heated kiss. When they broke apart, he was staring at her with blue eyes that looked through to her soul, as if he were memorizing every part of her.

“I had to see you one last time before…” He shook his head. “I’ve been trying to be right with this all evening. This duty you must uphold, but Emma you can’t go through with it…”

“Killian, please don’t do this.” She pleaded through tears-stained eyes.

“I cannot bear to witness you joined with my brother, not when you are all I long for. Marry me, Emma, marry me and we can run away together, and I will always, always be by your side.”

“I want nothing more than to marry you.” Her voice shook. “If we were any other people, if this were any other time, I would never leave your side, but we aren’t other people, I can’t turn my back on everyone who needs me. I have to go through with this.”

He stepped away from her, narrowing his eyes. “Then you do not love me.” It was like a dagger to her heart.

“I love you more than anything.” She whispered. “I’m doing this because I love you. Marrying Liam will allow us to defeat Regina, it protects you as much as it does them.”

“Don’t…” He said loudly. “Don’t use that as an excuse. If you loved me, you would stand up for us, as your mother did when she refused to marry my father.” Emma felt as if she had been slapped. “The Emma I know, the one who stabbed through the heart of a bandit to save my life, that Emma is brave. That Emma would choose love, she would choose to find another way to save our kingdoms without sacrificing her soul.”

“That’s not fair. How dare you put this all on me!” She said angrily. “Everything I have done is because I do not have a choice.”

“You always have a choice, love. And apparently, you’ve made yours.” He bowed to her. “I’ll take my leave and my place beside my brother, my future King. All hail Queen Emma.” His eyes did not meet hers as he turned and exited her room.

Emma stared at the wooden door standing between her and the man she loved, the tears falling freely from her eyes. How did he not understand that she had to go through with this? She wiped her face, a new determination overtaking her as she squared her shoulders, straightening her dress and taking a deep breath.

The door opened once more, and her father stepped into the room. “Oh Emma, you look beautiful.”

She smiled at her father, ignoring the pain in her heart. “Thanks, daddy.”

He stepped toward her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I’ve been looking forward to this honor for so long.” He said reverently. “I know this wasn’t what you wanted…perhaps you’ve settled on the idea?”

“Liam is a good man.” She said softly. “There are worse men I could have been matched with.”

“Can you be happy?”

“I’ll learn to be.” She said with a sad smile.

“It’s time.” A man entered the room announcing the start of the ceremony. Emma took her father’s arm and walked down the large hall toward the ballroom. With each step she got closer and closer to her eventual fate, Killian’s words continued to echo in her ear.

If you loved me, you would stand up for us, as your mother did when she refused to marry my father.

When they turned the corner, her mother was standing waiting for them. Emma paused her steps once they approached her. Her heart was beating out of her chest. She stared at her parents, the way they smiled at each other.

“Mom, why didn’t you marry King Brennan?”

Her mother stared at her in confusion, “What?”

“Your duty was to marry King Brennan and yet you chose daddy. Why?”

“Emma, now is not the time for this, we can reminisce after the wedding.”

“Mom, please.”

Her mother sighed, taking her father’s hand. “I loved your father from the moment I laid eyes on him. I was already promised to Brennan when we met, but I knew that I would never be able to survive a day without your father. I tried to deny my feelings, but he never stopped fighting for me, he never gave up.” She said with a smile.

“I need to speak to Liam.” Emma announced.

“Emma, the wedding has already started, you can’t just stop the ceremony to speak to…”

~*~

Killian paced the room as his brother readied himself for the wedding. After speaking to Emma, his last plea to try and convince her to leave with him failing, he realized that the only thing left for him to do was to support the union and then join the fight against Regina, getting as far away from the castle and Emma as possible.

He watched his brother standing at the window, he was the perfect picture of royalty, he had the build, the height, the posture, Liam was everything that Killian was not. He knew that his brother would be a good King one day, and Killian would follow him anywhere. Being loyal to his brother was never the issue, but was it really fair that Liam could embody perfection, wear the crown, and possess the only thing that Killian had ever truly loved? He could never hate his brother but in this moment he had thought about tossing him off the balcony, but only for a moment.

“You are deep in thought.” His brother’s voice brought him away from his thoughts.

“Aye, it’s a big day brother.”

“Come now little brother, one day you will become a man and take a wife of your own.” He teased. “A woman who will interest you for more than a single dalliance.” His hearty laugh made Killian’s jaw tense in anger.

“As I have told you before, your younger brother is capable of enjoying a woman’s company outside the bedchamber.”

“Come now, Killian, don’t take offense. I am merely teasing.”

Killian exhaled loudly. “What makes you think I have not already found a woman I wished to take for my bride?”

His brother’s brow rose as a smirk grew on his face. “Have you now, do tell? Who is the lucky lass? Is it Matilda from the Boars’ Nest, or perhaps Bertha over by the Rusty Anchor? Come now brother, do not keep me in suspense.”

Killian crossed the room angrily. “You jest as if you know anything about love. You do not marry for love; you marry because of your duty. You are not about to take a wife, you are merely enlisting a hostage to take as a trophy to sit by your side.”

His brother laughed again, “What’s gotten into you? You are behaving as if you do not understand the situation we find ourselves in.”

“And you are behaving as if the situation has no other alternatives except to thrust a ruse upon our people.”

“This decision is not my choice; it has been willed by better men than me. You would be wise not to question them.”

Killian scoffed. “How bloody horrible for you that your duty leads you to Emma’s bedchamber.”

“What on earth is this about, brother?”

The door to the room swung open and a man entered with a bow. “I’m terribly sorry to interrupt, but Princess Emma has sent for you.”

Killian’s heart pounded in his chest as he stared hopefully at the man, only to have it shatter the moment he watched his brother step forward. “But the wedding is about to begin.”

“Understood, she only stated that she needed to speak to you before the ceremony began.”

“I shall return in a moment.” Liam said with a nod. “We can continue this conversation then.”

Killian turned away from his brother, wondering what had caused Emma to summon him right before the ceremony had begun. Perhaps she had changed her mind and was calling this sham off. He didn’t dare dream of it, yet as he leaned against the stone wall, his eyes pinched closed, his only thoughts were of Emma and a possible future.

~*~

Emma paced the stone steps of the spiral staircase in front of her, she had no idea what she was going to say to Liam, she just needed to speak to him.

“Emma, is something wrong?”

“Liam, I’m so sorry, I needed to see you before…” She closed her eyes. “Before you and I.” She groaned. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

He stepped toward her and took her hands in his. “Relax, Emma. Remember, we are in this together.”

Emma looked up into his eyes, so like his brother. “I’m in love with another man.” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them, a tear forming at the corners of her eye. “I know what everyone wants me to do, but my heart is breaking.”

He exhaled softly, his chin dropping as his eyes stared at the ground. “I am truly sorry, lass. I was not aware you had a previous suitor.”

She laughed lightly. “Fate is cruel.”

“Emma, I know this isn’t easy. It is hard to reconcile the cold responsibility we both bear, especially when you crave the warmth of another. I’m afraid I must confess, I too am in love with another, yet the law of the land forbids our relationship.”

Her mouth dropped. “You have a mistress?”

“I have been in love since I was a young boy, yet she is not of noble blood and thus, it is forbidden for us to be together. Please understand it was not my intention to deceive you and once we are wed, I will not take my mistress into our bed.”

“You’d give up this woman, your heart, to save your people?”

“It is my sworn duty, and yours.”

Emma bowed her head in resignation. He was right. They were born to protect their people, to honor their lands, their King, and their duty. “You are right. I am sorry for speaking out of turn.” She said softly. She felt his hand on her cheek, brushing away her tears.

“I promise you, whatever we are to become, let us at least be friends.”

“I think I can do that.” She said with a sad smile.

~*~

Killian stood at the front of the large hall, anxiously awaiting word from his brother. Secretly hoping that they would burst into the room and declare that the wedding had been cancelled.

He looked around at the people sitting happily in their seats, smiles all around at the happy occasion. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs that the entire affair was for show, a fake excuse to gain their loyalty.

His eyes met Elsa’s and they exchanged a knowing glance, one that told her he was there for her, that he knew her heart was breaking. He only wished he could share with her how much he understood her pain. That his heart was torn apart knowing this his brother was about to destroy his only chance for happiness.

The door opened behind him, and his brother stepped from the room, an apologetic smile on his face as he took his spot next to him.

Call it off, announce that the event is over… he pleaded silently with a clinched jaw.

Harps began to play, a tune for some that was melodic and joyous, but to him the melancholy notes tore his heart asunder. He stood rooted to the ground as the woman he loved entered the hall, the pale see-through material covering her face, concealing the look of sadness behind her eyes that he had seen earlier when they had spoken in her room.

Her eyes did not leave his as she made her way toward his brother, the slow and steady pace that tortured him with each step. When she finally reached them, each breath he took was labored and full of grief as he tried to hide the emotion threatening to overtake him. She glanced sadly in his direction as she was handed off to his brother, taking her place in front of the priest.

“Blessings and merry meet. Gentle lords and ladies, we are here today to join the fair Princess Emma and the Noble Prince Liam together.” He paused and turned toward Emma. “Princess, art thou here this day in pledged troth of thy own free will and choice?”

He watched as she swallowed, staring at the man in front of her. “Yes, Father.” She said as her tiny voice cracked.

“In as much as this Noble Prince and Fair Princess have pledged their troth to be married this day, we call upon Heaven to bless this union. Therefore, if anyone can show just cause, why they may not be joined together, by God's Law, or the Laws of the Realm; let them now speak, or else hereafter keep silent for all time.”

Suddenly the door was flung open as a handful of armed men stormed the room, at the center of the men a menacing woman stepped forward into the crowd.

“Imagine my surprise when I found out there was going to be a wedding between the heirs of Misthaven and Jonesboro and no one invited me.” Regina swirled her hands around her as she stalked toward the couple.

Killian reached for his sword at his side, gripping it in his hand.

“Regina, you are not welcome here.” His father barked as he met her in the middle of the room.

“Brennan, has it really been so long since we last saw each other, I can hardly believe how much Liam has grown.” She winked in Liam’s direction. “And David, your daughter is simply gorgeous.” She walked closer to Emma, grabbing a lock of her hair in her hand and tugging.

“Get away from her.” David growled from his wife’s side.

“Where are my manners?” The woman shrilled, “I came to bring a gift for the happy couple.”

“Try giving us your absence.” His brother responded calmly; his arm wrapped protectively around Emma’s back. Killian turned his attention to the woman in front of him.

“You aren’t welcome here.” He said, stepping toward her.

“Oh, my Brennan, is this scrumptious little treat, the baby? My, my, how much you have grown.” She mewed as she ran her hand against his chest. “Aren’t you just a delicious little morsel.” She squeezed his chin with her finger and Killian jerked away from her.

“Leave Regina.” His mother shouted as she stood from her bench. “Now.” She added, a fire burning in her eyes which brought Regina’s full attention toward her.

“Oh Alice, you must be so proud of your son, plugging his nose in order to drown out the stench of Nolan blood.”

Turning toward Emma’s mother the woman pounced. “Mary, Mary, Mary, the sins of the mother.” She taunted. “Your indiscretion saved you from the fate of becoming a Jones, but you doomed your daughter to that dreaded fate herself.”

“We aren’t afraid of you, Regina.” Emma screamed causing the woman to spin around, advancing on the blonde as Killian held his breath.

“You dare open your mouth to me, Princess?” She seethed, her eyes glaring into Emma’s as Killian took a silent step toward the woman, his hand clinching around the hilt of his sword.

“You said you brought a gift.” King Nolan interrupted, stepping closer to his daughter.

The woman flung her arms theatrically into the air. “Ah yes, how could I forget my present to the happy couple.” She gestured toward her men who scattered around the room, weapons at the ready as they surrounded and separated the King and Queen of both families. Strong arms were suddenly on him, grasping him from behind as he struggled to break free.

Regina stood in front of his father, a grin across her face as she reached out and caressed his cheek.

Turning around she glared at Liam. “I bring you the gift of nobility.” She said with a smirk, “For on this day, you will be King.”

The rest happened in slow motion as he realized the woman’s intent, with a swift jab of his elbow, he scrambled out of the guard’s grasp, rushing toward his mother before the sword plunged into her from behind. Her face crumpled, the blood spreading across her chest before her eyes met his, the light leaving them as she hit the floor.

“No.” He screamed, struggling to get to her in time, feeling his chest constrict with both sadness and an untamed anger as he watched Regina turn and cut down his father where he stood. He fell to his knees, crawling the last few feet until he reached his mother’s side, his parents lifeless bodies lay side by side on the rock floor. They were gone, slain by a Queen most evil.

He took one last look at his mother, brushing his hand lightly against her face before turning a murderous glance toward the object of his anger. “You’ll pay for this.” He growled, climbing to his feet, his weapon held firmly in front of him, biting back tears of anger as he set his sight on his prey.

[sugamontana93]

Tony Montana (18+) BTS FF Chapter 1

You can also find this story on wattpad @SugaMontana93 

https://www.wattpad.com/user/SugaMontana93

"Highly Elusive and Dangerous Chinese Mafia Boss, Yong Go Sil, was found murdered four days ago in ShangHai. It is rumored that he had ties to Seoul via family, but nothing has been confirmed. He has been wanted by the Chinese Government, along with South Korean and American agencies due to the wreckless drug sales, senseless acts of violence and murders spanning from continent to continent over the last twenty years. Police believe that another crime family, also known as Blood Kings, were responsible for the mafia leaders' demise. If you have any tips leading to The Yong Mafia and The Notorious South Korean mafia 'The Blood Kings', please call our hotline at XXX-XXX-XXXX. This is Park Reina with Seoul Now News."

Yoongi smirked as he turned off the news and settled down on the leather couch in Hybe's conference room. The other members smirked at each other before their manager, Bang Si-Hyuk, entered with a stern face. Their manager, no matter how wholesome and sweet he was in the public, knew exactly who and what BTS were behind the scenes. He was the one who passed it on to them. Yoongi's knowledge of Daegu sealed their fate the day they signed the contract with Big Hit. At the beginning, not a single one of the seven knew what was happening until Bang approached them with more opportunities that life as simple idols wouldn't be able to give them. Namjoon may be the leader of BTS, but it was Yoongi that dealt with the rest.

"I see you went through with it," Bang said as he sat down at the head of the table. "Mind telling me how you managed to find him in such a short amount of time?"

"I did it," Taehyung smirked as he looked at his manager. "Yoongi gave myself and my soldiers access to some of the things you left behind. The asshole was slick, I give you that. If it wasn't for Jungkook's keen eye, I would have never gotten Hyunsoo to tail him for as long as I had. Seokjin-Hyung pulled the trigger himself."

"And you managed to go to China to do that," Bang lifted his brow. "I don't see how that's possible."

"We didn't go to China. He was here. In Seoul," Seokjin added. "We don't know why he was here, but he knew he had been made. It was actually quite easy to get rid of him."

"How'd you get his body to Shanghai?"

"Jungkook's soldiers. Most of them are based in China to keep an eye out for other mafia that may come as a threat to us."

"For him to not fight is strange to me," Bang murmured. "Yoongi, are you going to look into this?"

"Already on it, sir," The mafia leader smiled back. "I should have some results by the end of the week."

"Even though I'm not the boss anymore, please keep me informed. I want to keep the authorities away as much as I can."

"Of course, sir."

"Now," Bang said while clapping his hands, "let's move on to more calm matters. Yoongi, your stylist Jaenie has put in her notice to leave the company. She and her husband have just found out that they're expecting twins and she'll need to be on bed rest due to her pre-existing health conditions."

"Aw, babies," Jungkook cooed, making the others laugh. "Good for her. I heard her telling Yoongi-hyung that they were trying."

"I'm happy for her," Yoongi grinned. The stereotype that surrounded Mafia leaders wasn't how Yoongi was. How you saw him on stage and on candid footage, that was him. Truly him. He wasn't mean or heartless to people that worked with him, his elders, his family or anything of the sort. The only time people knew how dark he was, was when the mafia side kicked in. He had his own persona. He was the infamous 'Tony Montana of South Korea' afterall. He only made people fear him when they needed it. That's why no one was brave enough to cross The Blood Kings.

"Which brings us to our next point," Bang said while pulling out a file. "Your replacement stylist will be starting tomorrow."

"But I thought Jaenie Noona would be here for two more weeks?"

"I told her to take these extra two weeks early. I'm paying her quadruple her usual salary and a hefty bonus to help with any things she needs for the babies. I also started them a trust fund because Jaenie has been one hell of a good employee."

"She dealt with Yoongi's hormonal early teenage years. You should have just given her the presidential medal of honor," Seokjin snickered. Yoongi shot him a go to hell look and then sighed.

"Yeah, you're probably right," he chuckled. "So, who is she?"

Bang opened the file and pulled out her resume.

Name: Grei Romano

Age: 29

Birthdate: January 1st, 1992

Born: Sicily, Italy

Parent's: Luca and Soleil Romano

Graduated Seoul School of Arts 2010, Licensed Cosmetologist and Esthetician 2011, Bachelor's Degree in Communications 2015.

IQ: 148

Current Residence: Seoul, South Korea

Languages: English, Cantonese, Italian, Korean, Japanese, Spanish and French.

Marital Status: Single

Children: 0

Bank: Seoul National Bank

Bank Account Balance: 1,425,504.00₩

"Damn. Are we hiring a stylist or recruiting someone into the mafia," Namjoon whistled as he looked down at all of the information. "She's smart."

"And broke," Taehyung said while crossing his arms. "She has two licenses and a huge degree. Why so little money?"

"She lives in Hannam, so it's all got to be going to normal bills. Relax, Taehyung. I checked her out and did a thorough background check. You know how I am about hiring people that know who you are as BTS." Bang pulled out her photograph and slid it across the table. "This is who will be coming tomorrow. I've given strict instructions to the staff if anyone else comes and does not match this picture, we'll be calling the police. I can't have you all exposed to crazy fans coming in here again or have anyone snooping in BK business."

Yoongi stared at her photograph and his mouth watered. She was exquisite, breathtaking. Nothing could come close to describing how beautiful she was. Her eyes were what drawed him in. They were beautiful...but somehow familiar.

"Hyung, pick your jaw up." Jimin bursted out laughing and snatched the picture from Yoongi's clutches. "She's hot."

"Coming from you, I know not to worry about you getting yourself in trouble with her," Bang said as he looked over his glasses. "Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi possibly. But not you."

"How do you know I won't try anything with her, Bang-ssi?"

Si-hyuk crossed his arms and lifted his brow. "I've known you for eleven years, Jimin. I also know that you and Hoseok are dating." Jimin and Hoseok are still in their chairs and look at the other members with wide eyes. "I also know that Namjoon and Jin and Taehyung and Jungkook are dating. You boys trying to hide everything from me has been a sight. Now stop pretending." Bang motioned from them to speak while six of the members looked like their manager had just shot their dog. "Look, I don't care what you all do. Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook, I know you're gay. I'm your second father. I know these things. Just like I know that Hoseok is bisexual, Jin and Namjoon have never thought about dating the same sex until they met each other and Yoongi's pansexual. You all know this about each other. I'm sure you've all had your private talks. It's my job to know these things, boys. I don't care. You're all happy right?"

They all nodded in response.

"Great."

Yoongi's phone began to ring, jerking everyone out of the awkward atmosphere. "Fuck," Yoongi growled as he answered his phone. "What is it, Han?" Yoongi's hand gripped the table as Han related valuable information to him. His knuckles were white, face as cold as stone as he listened to Han break down everything that has happened over the last hour. He slammed his phone down and closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. When they opened, Yoongi was gone.

The Mafia Boss was standing still as stone in his place, eyeing the members and his manager as he tried to steady his breathing.

"What is it, son," Bang said while standing up.

Yoongi chuckled and adjusted the rings on his finger.

"Seems like Yong Go Sil has someone taking over his mafia."

"Who?" The rest all stood waiting for further instruction.

"His daughter."

[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

Hello! If you don't mind me asking, are you planning on watching House of the Dragon? I'm personally unsure about it. I was cautiously optimistic about it since D&D are not involved, but the recent casting news have been ugh disappointing imo. What do you think?

Hey anon! Sorry to say I kind of mind you asking because my inbox is still closed (to everyone except my secret Santas, which is why the ask page is accessible at all), but then I realized it’s possible if you’re on the mobile app only, you haven’t seen said note in my askbox, or my FAQ, or anything of the sort. And with older metas of mine being reblogged recently, it’s possible you may be confused. (I hope you’re on mobile only and not just ignoring my requests.) So I wanted to inform you of that... but also, y’know, I kind of wanted to make a post about the HotD cast anyway? And this ask is as good a prompt as any... so, you’re lucky, but please don’t push your luck. ;)

So, straight up: I currently have no plans to watch House of the Dragon. HBO is not getting any of my goddamn money, I don’t trust like that. And hunting down illegal livestreaming sites is a pain in the ass and I regret ever doing it for GoT, as well as regretting getting drunk every weekend enough to dampen my senses to ever tolerate that show. Yeah it’s different showrunners and writers, I know. It’s still (mostly) the same executives at HBO and even if the pervert producer is gone (or is he?), you know they still just want to sell sex and violence and dragons to an audience that thinks fantasy is for geeks.

Also, considering that Fire & Blood’s story of Dance of the Dragons has very little actual narrative or dialogue, and the historical record is deliberately untrustworthy, that gives them pretty much full rein to do whatever they like with the story and characterization and words without even being slightly obliged to GRRM at all. Furthermore, since the story is wholly political with virtually none of the magical side of ASOIAF (excepting dragons), and honestly does not have much in the way of themes or depth that main ASOIAF or even D&E has, I think it will be very hard for an adaptation to show even those brief sparks of quality that used to make me wistful GoT couldn’t be that good all the time and eventually just made me frustrated and depressed. Note I do like the history and characters of the Dance despite myself, despite its many many many textual issues, but I don’t need to see an adaptation, I have a very visual imagination. I don’t watch a lot of television to begin with, I don’t see why I should start again with this.

However, I’m not going to avoid spoilers or discussion, and I’ll probably follow the show the tumblr way, through gifsets and video clips and people bitching on their blogs etc. If, somehow, by some miracle of good screenwriting and acting, the show manages to transcend its source material, I’m sure I will be informed. And then, if and only if then, I may try watching. (Without, of course, giving HBO any of my goddamn money.) We shall see.

(Though I certainly don’t know why anyone in Targ standom would ever watch a Dance adaptation considering almost every Targaryen and everyone else in the story is terrible except Helaena and the kids, and considering how the story ends, unless y’all are gluttons for punishment? (I do not comprehend hatewatching, sorry.) It’ll probably be fun at first to see the adventures of those “precious silver douchebags” (to borrow a friend’s tag), but eventually rocks fall, everyone dies, including the girlboss you know you’ll hope the story will be changed enough that she succeeds. Just letting you know now, she won’t.)

That said. I’ve been following the casting news and I think the hate/fear/wild screaming is entirely overblown. Yeah, I know, but wait, just listen. On Friday I officially welcomed @naomimakesart to the “favorite character is now played by an actor who looks nothing like most fanart and is mostly known for wildly different roles” club. I still remember that day in September 2009 when my brother texted me “yarp”... and that right there is the thing. Yeah. Rory McCann looks very little like most pre-GoT Sandor fanart... but many fans grew to love him anyway. (There are some who never did, of course. And yeah the character went off the rails by the end, but truly, who didn’t. Having seen his audition, having spoken to him and heard him wistfully talk about book scenes he loved, I’m convinced if Rory had only been given Sandor’s actual scenes and such, he would’ve killed it. Sigh. Deep, deep sigh.)

And Rory isn’t the only one. Neither of the actors for Jaime and Cersei were considered “beautiful” enough at first. I recall very clearly people bitching about Nikolaj Coster-Waldau (about his nose particularly?) because they had wanted Tarzan-era Travis Fimmel to be Jaime. (Seeing people bitch because current-Fimmel isn’t playing Daemon made me laugh out loud for both BEYONCE?! meme -type “why would you ever cast him omg he doesn’t fit my headcanon Daemon at all”, and amazing amounts of fandom flashbacks.) Lena Headey was “too square-jawed”, “too mean-looking” (since at the beginning you should never be able to guess she’s evil), “too dark-complected”, “too mannish”, not at all attractive enough. (Tricia Helfer was the most common “but I wanted” for Cersei, btw.) And of course “they don’t remotely look like twins, ugh!” Note, there’s receipts for all of this, none of it is made up. (Unfortunately.) Those two actors are just the ones whose casting wank I recall most clearly, particularly because oh how the turn tables.

Also. You know, there’s a post with Matt Smith and Mark Simonetti’s TWOIAF Daemon going around with shrieks of horror... and I’m finding it maddening in a “am I crazy? am I  the crazy one???” way, because Matt looks like the painting. Their features are not that dissimilar.

Same deepset eyes. Same cheekbones of doom. Same thin lips. Same protruding chin. Same high forehead. Same invsible eyebrows ffs. Matt has a squarer jaw, and a longer more rectangular face, and a wider nose, but considering that Daemon’s features are not described in the text, and this is the only official ASOIAF artwork that shows Daemon’s face straight on, I can for sure see why he was probably shortlisted to begin with. And that’s not even getting into to his role in The Crown, which I’ve heard is very well played with politics and palace intrigue... and if you doubt Smith can play seductive/roguish and/or evil (depending on how you LARP as a Westeros historian), or look good with long hair... well. I do not want to watch the movie, but this trailer is disturbingly enlightening.

And as for Rhaenyra... y’all know this show is starting at the beginning of the story, right? When she’s a teenager? Not a voluptuous MILF? Yeah, Emma D’Arcy doesn’t look like a Magali Villeneueve painting (though who does, good lord), but you know who she does look remarkably like? Harry Lloyd.

Same jawline. Same nose. Same thin lips. Same sharp cheekbones. Notably, same kind of sharp cheekbones and deep-set eyes as Matt Smith. HBO evidently has a concept of a “Targaryen look” that’s a little bit quirkier than supermodel-Greek statue-gods on earth, yeah, fine. But it’s consistent, and they look like family, and that-- that is good casting.

And yeah, in a few months to a year or so, you’ll see them in costume and wigs and makeup, you’ll see them in motion and speaking lines, and go Oh. That’s different. Never mind. And while people will make fanart of the show depictions of the characters and those will probalby get popular, they’ll also keep doing fanart of their pre-show headcanons, and those too will be popular. (God knows when I draw or visualize book!Sandor, Rory does not come to mind, lol.) Either way, there’s no reason to panic. We’ll live.

(Though will we live well? Got to wait on the writing and showrunning for that, alas.)

[seriouslyhooked]

Can’t Say No (At Christmas)

CS one-shot set in the future. Hope is three and Emma and Killian are still very much in the throws of a happily ever after, but Killian wants to do something special for Emma for Christmas. With the help of their family and the town, he manages to fulfill a Christmas wish for his wife in exactly the kind of over-the-top fluffy and sweet way you’d expect from me. Includes holiday surprises, Christmas cheer, and a healthy dash of true love. Rated T. Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey all! I really did not know if I was going to be able to get this drabble done, but I am so happy to say that I did and to share it with you all tonight. I know that this Christmas is going to be so different for so many of us, and that it has been a hard year of uncertainty and stress. My gift to our little fandom is this story, focused on Emma and Killian a few years after we got to see them in the show. It’s inspired by the spirit of Christmas, the cheesiness that only Hallmark movies can provide, and the song ‘No Problem’ by Dylan Schneider. I love the idea that Killian cannot deny Emma anything, and that at Christmas he has to make Emma’s wishes come true. I hate to spoil any more of this, but I will just say thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

“I don’t know how the hell you pulled this off, mate, but I got to hand it to you, this is really something special.”

The words David uttered from the bottom of the ladder were high praise, despite the dig at Killian’s favorite endearment. Tonight though, Killian would let the jab slide. He simply didn’t have the time or energy to pretend to argue with Emma’s father. Instead he hustled down the rungs and back to solid ground beside his friend. He took stock of the room once more, running his hand through his hair and tracing each corner of the barn with his gaze. There was very little about the place that was recognizable. It had been sufficiently transformed, from an old, dusty tomb of farm equipment, to a space fit for the evening ahead.

“It pays to be a good guy in the end,” Killian joked. Playing up the early days of their knowing each other when Killian was anything but a hero. “Turns out I’ve helped quite a lot of people these past few years. They were eager to return the favor.”

“That’s true enough, but I think the fact that you did this all for Emma plays a big part too.”

There was no doubt about that, and the mere reminder of his wife brought a smile to his lips. She was going to be surprised by this, and there was nothing that he loved more than surprising his Swan. Killian could hardly wait for the look of excitement that would spread across her face, and the light that would appear in her jade colored eyes. Her cheeks would flush from realization, and her hands would move unbiddenly, as if she couldn’t quite contain the excitement or suspense. Emma was always the most beautiful of women, and a miracle to be sure, but when treated to a gift that was truly worthy of her, she was transcendent, his own personal star and tempting taste of heaven.

“Any word from Snow?” Killian asked, checking his watch and seeing they had made good time, despite the hecticness of the day. He had enough time to catch a shower and prepare himself, but he needed to be sure that Emma and Hope were sufficiently occupied in the meantime.

“Better – she sent a video while you were hanging the last of the garland.”

David offered his phone and Killian laughed at the sight. Snow and Emma had taken Neal and Hope out of town to a nearby ski resort that was hosting all sorts of winter activities for kids. In the video Emma, Hope, and Neal were all making snow angels, until Neal gave the signal and he and Hope pivoted to throwing snowballs at Emma. The only problem was Hope was far too little and bundled up in snow gear to be effective. She was having the time of her life though, and at the end of the video, Emma scooped their daughter up and nuzzled her close, bestowing a kiss on her curly brown hair, which had escaped its winter cap. Hope was a dazzling blend of him and Emma, but her goodness and ability to inspire love was totally her mother’s doing.

“Perfect. You good here for the time being?” David nodded, pivoting from his assistant role to commander in chief with the quickness of one-time prince. Content that his tasks were in good hands, Killian headed out, eager to put the next parts of his plan in place.

Things moved quickly from there. He showered and readied himself for the kind of night his Emma had imagined, ignoring the strangeness of his reflection as he did. He would never feel quite right in these damn tuxedos, but Emma’s wish was specific and it included the blasted suit. It also included a number of gifts for Emma and for Hope, which he pulled from the one place in the house Emma never ventured to – the garage. From the back of the storage space there, he grabbed a number of boxes that he’d stuffed away last week, and brought them all inside. After checking the contents were free from any water or dirt, he was convinced things were as they should be, and he left the gifts underneath the Christmas tree.

The only thing left to craft was the note for Emma that would set her surprise in motion. He hadn’t dared to write it out before, wanting to save it for this moment. It felt right to speak from the heart and to put in words exactly how he felt tonight. Still, it took time to get the letter exactly right, and he must admit he grew a bit sentimental when crafting it. A time or two he fell into recent and more distant memories of their lives together, feeling the warmth in his soul that could only ever come from the truest love. Luckily, he had enough of his wits about him and time was on his side. Soon he heard the sound of a car pulling up the drive just as he closed the envelope with Emma’s name and placed it on the tree, and with the stealth accrued in his past life, he slipped out the back door just before his girls came in.

“Mama, look! Santa came early,” he heard Hope say as he quietly rounded the side of the house. For a moment he was truly tempted to steal a look and watch this scene play out, but he reminded himself that there was still more to be done, and instead headed down the street to where a not so patiently waiting Snow was parked.

“Killian, thank God! I thought you’d never get here!” she exclaimed as he opened the door, but before he could reply, young Neal let his own thoughts be known.

“Mom, it’s been like sixty seconds. Literally. Look, I timed it on the stopwatch Henry gave me. 63 seconds.

“No, has it only been a minute? I’m so excited I can’t tell. It feels like forever. I was waiting for this all day. It was so hard not to spill the beans.”

“But you didn’t, right?” Killian checked, pivoting to Neal for the truth. When the boy gave him a thumbs up, he let out a breath. “Good. But it all might be for not if we don’t get a move on.”

“Oh, right. We’ve got to go. We’ve got a Christmas miracle to deliver.” Neal groaned at the words and Killian remained quiet prompting Snow to ask the question, “Sorry, too cheesy?”

“For tonight? No, strangely it’s just right.”

And with that, they pulled away from the curb, headed back towards the barn and the long-awaited surprise.

……………….

“Mama, look! Santa came! Santa came!”

At first Emma didn’t understand the words from her daughter. She was just trying to get her bearings after peeling the snow clothes off of Hope and discarding her own jacket on the hook by the door. Her boots were barely off and her scarf was still wound around her neck. She couldn’t imagine how Hope still had so much energy, but then she remembered – three year olds were like comic book characters, with a super power of endless energy.

“Christmas Eve is tomorrow, honey,” Emma said, righting her clothes and letting go of a big breath, before walking towards the living room. “Two more sleeps until Santa.”

“But look, Mama, pwesents!”

Emma followed her daughters pointing finger across the way, and low and behold there were gifts under the tree that had not been there this morning. Her curiosity was peaked, but when she saw the white envelope secured in the branches of their evergreen tree, she had an inkling of what was happening.

“Killian,” she murmured walking forward, and running her fingertips across the delicate paper.

“Daddy?” Hope asked excitedly, and Emma nodded as she opened the envelope, only to fight off tears of love when she read the letter.

My Dearest Emma,

There are no gifts that I could ever give you that compare to all you’ve given me. I know and accept that, but this time of year is different. It’s a season predicated on love, light, and yes, even a bit of magic. So I had to try, for your sake and for mine.

Christmas is about showing the people you love what they mean to you. It’s about giving love and feeling love, and knowing that even in the dark of a winter night, there is hope and light ahead. It’s about reminding loved ones that you care, that you’re rooting for them, and that their dreams are your dreams too. You taught me that, you and Hope and Henry, and I swear to you that all I could ever want is to make you happy, and to grant the wishes you carry in your heart.

“Ooo, pwetty,” Hope said, dragging Emma’s eyes down to where her daughter had already begun opening the parcels below. Inside the white garment box was a gorgeous crimson colored dress, breathtaking in its elegant design. The satin and the beading were exquisite, and the color was to die for, and like something from a dream. Hope offered the box to her, knowing even at age three that it wasn’t the right size for her. “For you, Mama.”

“Thank you, princess,” Emma said, taking the box in hand, wanting to look at it in full, but knowing the letter was still more important.

You are everything to me, Emma. Everything and so much more. You and our children hold my whole universe in your hands. Tonight, I hope to take your hand in mine, and remind you that in life, all you really need is the perfect partner.

“He didn’t,” Emma whispered, looking down from the letter which had been signed with love by her pirate. Then she looked at the other presents Hope was opening. A beautiful pair of heels, a white fur muff, and a necklace that sparkled, along with all the same things for Hope that were more their daughter’s style and perfect for her size. The last gift was another envelope, with a card. On the top in cursive script it read ‘Selected Suitors for Emma Jones’ and the only name was Killian’s. “Oh my god, he did. It’s a dance. He planned a Christmas dance for me.”

“Dance?” Hope asked and Emma crouched down to help her daughter really open her own garment box, where a beautiful princess-style dress was waiting for her. As soon as she saw it Hope let out a sound of pure delight, clapping her hands together at a hastened clip. At that moment, the front door opened, and Emma looked, expecting to see Killian but instead seeing her son, dressed up in a tuxedo and looking downright dashing. It would have been a shock either way, but this year, when she’d been bracing herself for her son being away for the holiday, it felt like an even greater gift.

“Henry?” she asked, as Hope bolted for her brother. Instinctively, Henry scooped her up, accepting all her hugs and kisses before turning his eyes back to Emma.

“Surprise! Well, part of it anyway. But we’ve got to get a move on, or we’ll be late.”

“Where are we going?” Hope asked. Henry responded by whispering in her ear, low enough that Emma couldn’t hear. Whatever he said made Hope gasp. “Really? We’re going there?”

“Sure are. But we have to get ready. Don’t worry, Mom, I’ve got Hope. You do what you need to do.”

Emma was spurred into motion, grabbing the gifts marked for her and heading upstairs. In thirty minutes, she and Hope were both ready for whatever awaited them, and though Emma had her suspicions, she was in no way prepared when they arrived at the old McDonald farm. Pulling around back to the barn, there were dozens of people milling around. Everyone in town was here tonight, dressed up and partaking in merriment, but when they left the car and walked inside, Emma was truly stunned.

“It’s beautiful,” she said aloud, taking in the gorgeous decorations. The space was totally transformed, a perfect blend of rustic refinement. The colors were vivid and vibrant, the air was warm and filled with the scent of cinnamon and honey, and the joy here was palpable. There was a buzzing electricity that crackled in the air. This was what all those Christmas movies strove to recreate but could never quite capture, and Emma took it all in knowing that her husband had made this just for her.

Scanning the room for him, Emma was first greeted with the sight of her Mom and Dad and brother. They came forward immediately, hugging her and Hope and Henry and extending their thoughts.

“Oh, honey, you look spectacular!” her mother exclaimed with tears in her eyes, holding her hands and looking at her red dress. It was a truly wonderous design, that hugged every one of Emma’s curves just right while still feeling of the season. It was classic and timeless and more than a little sexy, but it was appropriate for the night, when everyone was dressed to the nines.

“So do you guys,” Emma said honestly, taking in her mom’s sapphire ball gown, and her Dad and brother’s tuxes.

“I’m a princess, Grandpa,” Hope said happily and Emma’s father immediately agreed as the band began to play a slower melody.

“There’s no denying that. Care to dance with me, Princess Hope?” He asked, bowing to her daughter. Hope giggled but took Emma’s hand instinctively, looking at her for permission and clarity.

“What about you, Mama?”

“Don’t worry, sprout,” Henry said nodding across the room and using his favorite nickname for his sister. “Dad’s got her taken care of.”

Emma’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Killian, as if this was a first date and not years into their marriage. She couldn’t help the butterflies swarming within her, and then, like magic the crowd of people parted, and there, across the room was her man. It should have come as no surprise how handsome he would look. Emma was well versed in how roguishly hot her pirate could be, but in a tux it was a whole other story. Maybe it was the rarity of seeing him like this, or maybe Killian was just one of those men who was born to wear a tux, but either way she was struck by him. Everything seemed to stop around her, and all she could sense was the man who completely owned her heart.

A few moments later they were together again. Emma hadn’t even realize she’d been walking towards him, and him to her, but when he took her hand she felt her blood hum in anticipation. She was caught in his eyes, sensing the mixture of love and desire that was so intoxicating, and waiting for him to speak, because words in this moment truly failed her.

“You look stunning, Swan,” he said to her, the gravel of his tone washing over her and sending a shiver down her spine in that delicious kind of way. “The fantasies I’d conjured in my mind’s eye could never do you justice.”

“So you were fantasizing about this, huh?” she asked, her voice thready as she turned, purposefully taunting him with a view of all her best angles. This time he let out a low growl that spiked her desire to tease him. God damn, there were people around! How could she be this hot and bothered? Oh right, she was married to a sinfully attractive and impossibly romantic man. This was par for the course.

“Aye, love, and I promise those musings will prove more than satisfactory when we get home.” His voice dipped low and she swallowed hard, trying to tamp down her own building need. Then something shifted in his eyes, and she knew before he said a word that something immensely thoughtful was about to be shared. “I hope it’s everything that you wanted, love. Those blasted ‘Hallmark towns’ have a lot more built-in Christmas cheer than Storybrooke, but all it took was a hint that this was what you wanted, and everyone came together.”

It dawned on her that the wish he was referring to was one that she’d made a few weekends ago when they were laying in bed watching TV. She usually skipped the Hallmark Christmas extravaganza, but this year she was feeling sentimental. Maybe it was the fact that Hope was finally hitting an age where she was starting to understand the season, or more likely it was the pregnancy hormones from their little one on the way. She was only twelve weeks along, and wasn’t even showing yet, but her self-coined pregnancy induced crazy brain was in full swing, and had been from the start. The only thing getting her through most days was Killian, and then he went and did something like this… it was too much for her, she couldn’t take it.

“I love you,” she confessed, blurting it out like it was some big secret instead of established fact. “Like a lot. A lot a lot.”

“A lot a lot,” Killian parroted with a grin, pulling her with him out to the dance floor before taking her in his arms. She melded into his muscled physique, trying not to swoon as the melody carried them away.

“You know I’m not as good at the whole poetic declarations thing as you are.”

“Few can be, love,” he joked. She raised her brow at him in quiet consternation, and he only laughed before turning her into a low dip on the dance floor and reminding her that he was in total control of himself out here. “But where words might fail you, action is your strong suit. You show me every day how much you love me, Emma. And every day I thank my lucky stars to have that love.”

He made a fair point. Emma was, after all, a woman of action, and so she decided to take some now. Though they were dancing, she stalled their moment to pull him in for a kiss, giving them both a taste of what was to come when the night drew to a close. The sparks between them ignited instantly, and without looking, Emma knew some of her magic was radiating from within. When they pulled apart she was almost dizzy from the delight, but Killian was even more effected. He had that boyish grin of his in full display, and that tiny hint of bashfulness that came when he’d done something really well. Only when she heard the oohing and aahing of the people around them did she realize their magic had created stars along the ceiling of the barn, making it appear that they were all dancing under an inky black sky bursting with constellations.

From a distance, Emma heard her daughter ask if it was ‘magic time’ now, but before she and Killian needed to step in, Regina told her ‘Not tonight, kid,’ and Henry whisked her off for her another dance. This gave Emma and Killian time, time to enjoy the fruits of all he’d done, and to revel in this moment for as long as they could.

“Merry Christmas, Killian. You’ve made it so perfect, I never want it to end.”

“What is it they say in those movies, love? Oh right – every day is Christmas when we’re together.”

And even though it was horribly corny, and she should have rolled her eyes at such a lame joke, Emma found that she couldn’t. She was simply too happy and grateful to feign otherwise. Instead she savored every moment of their Christmas dance, and the night they shared thereafter, knowing this would be one of the best days she’d ever had, and that somehow, some way, her pirate would find other means of making the future just as bright.

……………………

Girl I got a no problem Yeah, it's a bad habit, the way I gotta have it With or without you around All ya gotta do is call me, and tell me that you're lonely You're always stringing me out Yeah, they say the first step to quitting it Is admitting it, so here it is Girl, I think I got a no problem On my hands, 'cause I can't say no to you Once you start you know I can't stop it Even if I wanted to Yeah, I get tongue tied every time I try To do what I oughta do Girl, I got a no problem Yeah, 'cause I can't say no to you Girl, I should know better, yeah, I should know never To let you in just to leave If it's just two letters, then why can't I ever Find a way to piece 'em together Let's say the first step to quitting it Is admitting it, I'm admitting it, here it is Girl, I think I got a no problem On my hands, 'cause I can't say no to you Once you start you know I can't stop it Even if I wanted to Yeah, I get tongue tied every time I try To do what I oughta do Girl, I got a no problem Yeah, 'cause I can't say no to you Those smokey blue eyes staring back at me Yeah, you already know if you're asking me What the answer's always gonna be It's gonna be, yeah Girl, I think I got a no problem On my hands, 'cause I can't say no to you Once you start you know I can't stop it Even if I wanted to Yeah, I get tongue tied every time I try To do what I oughta do Girl, I got a no problem Yeah, 'cause I can't say no to you Those smokey blue eyes staring back at me Can't say no to you Yeah, you already know if you're asking me Girl, I got a no problem That the answer's always gonna be 'Cause I can't say no to you Girl, I got a no problem 'Cause I can't say no to you

Post-Note: So, what did you think? Hopefully you enjoyed this little dose of holiday cuteness and none of this is offensive in any way or to any story line. Most of you know I never watched the last season of the show, so I don’t know what they say happened to Henry and everybody. I only knew Emma and Killian did eventually have a baby girl named Hope. Anyway, I want to wish all of you a very Merry Christmas and healthy holiday season. I am grateful for you all, from the ride or die readers who comment on every post, to the people passing by who just wanted a little bit of Christmas cheer. You are such a force for good in my world, whoever you are, and I thank you for your light and kindness in these trying time. I wish you all the best this Christmas and in the New Year, and more than anything I wish you love! Sending my best vibes your way now and always, xE.

The Captain Swan Mixtape oneshot series:

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9,Part 10,Part 11, Part 12,Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24,Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31,Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37, Part 38,Part 39,Part 40, Part 41, Part 42, Part 43, Part 44, Part 45,Part 46,Part 47, Part 48, Part 49, Part 50, Part 51, Part 52, Part 53,Part 54,Part 55, Part 56, Part 57, Part 58, Part 59, Part 60,Part 61,Part 62, Part 63, Part 64, Part 65, Part 66, Part 67, Part 68,Part 69,Part 70, Part 71, Part 72, Part 73, Part 74, Part 75,Part 76,Part 77, Part 78, Part 79, Part 80, Part 81, Part 82, Part 83,Part 84,Part 85, Part 86, Part 87, Part 88, Part 89, Part 90,Part 91,Part 92, Part 93, Part 94, Part 95, Part 96, Part 97, Part 98,Part 99,Part 100, Part 101, Part 102, Part 103,Part 104, Part 105,Part 106, Part 107,Part 108, Part 109, Part 110,Part 111, Part 112,Part 113, Part 114, Part 115,Part 116, Part 117, Part 118,Part 119,Part 120, Part 121, Part 122, Part 123,Part 124, Part 125,Part 126, Part 127, Part 128,Part 129,Part 130, Part 131,Part 132,Part 133, Part 134, Part 135, Part 136, Part 137, Part 138,Part 139,Part 140, Part 141, Part 142, Part 143, Part 144, Part 145,Part 146, Part 147, Part 148,Part 149, Part 150, Part 151,Part 152, Part 153, Part 154, Part 155, Part 156, Part 157, Part 158,Part 159, Part 160, Part 161, Part 162, Part 163, Part 164,Part 165, Part 166, Part 167, Part 168, Part 169, Part 170,Part 171,Part 172, Part 173, Part 174, Part 175, Part 176,Part 177, Part 178, Part 179 , Part 180, Part 181, Part 182, Part 183, Part 184, Part 185, Part 186, Part 187, Part 188, Part 189, Part 190, Part 191, Part 192, Part 193, Part 194, Part 195

[btsslowburnfic]

Chthonic Love Ch. 16

Series Summary: A Greek Mythology AU featuring Yoongi/Suga as Hades and reader as Persephone. Olympian ruler Namjoon has delivered you, Persephone, as a gift for his brother, lord of Death, Yoongi

Previous Chapter here

Sidenote: Someone at BH reading this FF?  This is literally Lord Yoongi.  Just imagine some black sand. 

You thought you would have difficulty finding people given how unpopulated the castle usually felt. However, the tremors had roused most of the servants who were milling about nervously in the hallways and in the Great Hall.

As you entered the Hall, Lethe came running over. “Lady Persephone. Thank goodness. I went to your room right after the Earthquake and you weren’t there. We can’t find Penthos or Lord Yoongi either.”

“It’s alright,” You reassured her, giving her hands a gentle squeeze. You looked around and saw the same concerns etched on the faces of the other servants. “Help me gather everyone  in here and I’ll explain what I can.” You pressed your lips together into a firm line and went out in the hallway to gather people. Once you returned to the Hall you walked over to the front of the room and stepped up onto the small dais. You waited a few minutes for people to file into the room and to collect your thoughts. Once it seemed like people were ready to listen, you began.

“Thank you everyone for gathering here. I understand you are concerned about the Earthquake. Earlier this evening there was a small cave-in in the tunnels beneath the palace. Lord Yoongi and Penthos are investigating. At this time, there is no reason to worry. If these tremors happen again, please remain calm. We have evacuated the tunnels for the time being and several of the creatures who lived there are seeking refuge in the older part of the castle. They are subterranean and require dirt. I need help carrying sand from the desert into the abandoned throne room. Once it is there, I can transform it. Thank you.” You stepped down and walked over to Lethe. “Was that ok?”

She laughed, “I don’t think anyone has ever addressed the staff of this castle ever. You did great. Let me show you where we keep the buckets and barrels.” 

The two of you led the way to get containers for the sand. Before long, there was an assembly line throughout the castle from the desert to the abandoned throne room as you and several servants began to spill black sand onto the ground.

“Watch out little babies,” You cood to the spiderlings who had come over to see what all the noise was about. “It’s not dirt yet, but I’m sure we can do something with it. The repetitive task went on for hours. Your bandaged hands ached and your back was beginning to hurt as well. Finally, when most of the floor was covered in three inches of dirt, you told the staff to go rest for the remainder of the day.

You had removed as much clothing as was appropriate as you took a seat on the stairs. You heard Lethe sit down next to you.

“I am so sweaty.” You said.  She laughed and handed you a glass of water. “Thanks.”

“You did a great job earlier, rallying the troops. Took me back to my Athenien days.” She said, dusting sand off her hands and onto her apron.

“Yeah, thanks. I just hope this works and that Lord Yoongi is ok.” You started to remove the bandages from your hands. You picked up a jar you had saved and stood up. “I’ll be right back.”

“What can I do to help?” Lethe asked.

“I’ll probably need a stiff cup of tea when I’m done. And a bath. I stink.” You wrinkled your nose.

“I’ll get the tea started and come back. Be careful. Don’t push yourself, your hands are still wounded.”

“Too late.” You sighed looking at the lacerations. “Thank you.” You were truly grateful for Lethe.

You walked down the steps and into the tunnels. You knew that Yoongi had told you to stay out, but you needed a sample of the soil so you could try to replicate its composition. Without Yoongi’s powers to illuminate the steps, it was slow going as you felt your way through the darkness. You hoped he was alright. 

-------------

Yoongi stood with his hands on his hips, assessing the rock pile that had collapsed. While he had remained calm earlier, his mind was now racing. You could have died. What would he have done? He knew he cared for you but he hadn’t realized how much until the moment he threw his body on top of yours, terrified you would be crushed by the dirt collapse. What would he do if you were gone? But weren’t you going to leave anyway. No. He didn’t want to think about it.  He wasn’t going to let that happen, he resolved.

He heard footsteps approaching and recognized the footfalls as Penthos’. Centuries together could do that to people. He turned slowly.

“My Lord.” He bowed slightly, “What happened down here?”

“There is something out there. On the other side of the mountain.” Yoongi gestured towards the wall Penthos had resealed just yesterday. “Lady Persephone says it’s something big. But we don’t know what it’s purpose is.”

Arachne and the other adult spiders continued to dig through the rubble. The path to the golems had been cut off. Yoongi was trying not to worry about it, but he was beginning to feel extremely vulnerable. He turned around to face Penthos.

 “How on earth would she know that?” Penthos scoffed.

Yoongi narrowed his eyes, “Because she can read life forces and she detected something behind that wall. You seem to forget that Lady Persephone is an Earth Goddess.”

Penthos noticed the gash on Yoongi’s head, “My Lord, you’re bleeding.”

Yoongi waved his hand, annoyed. “It’s nothing. It will heal soon anyways. I need your ideas. The path to the golems is cut off. There’s a mysterious something on the other side of this rock and I can’t leave to investigate it or else corpses will pile up on the beach.” He let his irritation with the situation show. 

“My lord, we could always appeal for another God to travel there. Jungkook travels through the sky all day, every day. Ask him to gaze upon that part of the underworld.”

“No.” Yoongi almost snarled.  “I will not be indebted to any of those Gods.” Yoongi quickly dismissed the idea. He hated ingratiating himself to anybody. 

Penthos sighed. “I could travel there my Lord if you wished it. I do not like leaving the castle unguarded, especially with how things have been lately.” 

That last sentence was a mistake. Yoongi didn’t miss a thing when people spoke. Being a God who chose his own words so carefully, he appreciated and noticed the nuances with which people spoke.  “Lately.” Yoongi paused for effect. “Lately? Now what is that supposed to mean exactly?” 

Penthos grew slightly rigid. “I would be happy to travel to the other side of the Mountain my lord, if it pleases you.” He looked down.

Yoongi clicked his tongue and wrestled with himself about if he wanted to push the issue or not. “Yes. You will travel and investigate.”

“Yes my Lord. Thank you.” He seemed to know he had avoided a severe tongue lashing.

“But you should know,” Yoongi’s voice grew dark, “don’t return unless you are willing to pledge yourself to Lady Persephone as Queen.”

Penthos eyes snapped up, “Lord Yoongi you barely know..”

“I wasn’t asking you.” Yoongi closed the distance between them. He grabbed Penthos’ face, holding his chin in his hand and squeezing his cheeks between his thumb and forefinger. . “Do you understand?” He applied minor pressure.

Penthos nodded his head, “Yss Yss.” 

Yoongi held on for a few more seconds and then pushed back, causing Penthos to stagger. “Good. Seal the tunnels again. You will leave tomorrow.” Yoongi gave him one last look before heading back to the main antechamber. His jaw was clenched still in irritation. Penthos was lucky he had so many years of service under his belt, Yoongi thought, or else he would be in charge of guarding Tartarus. He felt himself growing angry once again as he rounded the corner to the main room.

His gaze and thoughts immediately softened when he saw you, crouched down on the ground, gathering dirt into a jar. Your hair was haphazardly cascading out of a loose bun, you were covered in sand, and you looked sweaty. He had never seen you look so beautiful. 

He felt his anger towards Penthos ease momentarily  as he thought back to a few minutes ago. He didn’t just say what he did to threaten Penthos; he would make you his Queen if you would have him. He cleared his throat, "I thought I told you to stay out of here." 

You turned suddenly, surprise you let out a small cry at first. "Oh it's you. I was so worried." You stood up, holding out your jar of dirt . "Sorry. I know you said to stay away but I've been busy and I need a dirt sample so I can finally finish and take a bath." 

Yoongi sighed, there was really no telling you what to do. He walked over and took the jar of dirt. "Fascinating. Tell me more."

You smiled, "it's more of a showing thing. But you'll see soon enough. Are you done down here?”

“Yes. For now. Let’s go.” He illuminated the sconces lining the stairs. The two of you made your way back to the old throne room.  Yoongi abruptly stopped at the top and turned to look at you. "Is there any sand left in the desert?" he asked, his eyes bugging out slightly. 

You cackled, removing the jar from his hands You pushed past him, "Don't worry, your precious desert is safe. Be careful not to step on the babies." 

Yoongi looked down and noticed a bunch of the spiderlings had come to see what the commotion was about. 

You dumped the jar of dirt into the middle of the room and took a deep breath. You placed your hands on top of it and began to concentrate. You felt the durst react to your touch as you focused. Be dirt be dirt be dirt.

"Hey. Your hands are still injure,d stop it." Yoongi said, his voice filled with concern. 

You looked up at him defiantly and pressed your hands down further into the soil and sand. 

"Dammit Y/N.”  He cursed and walked over to you. For a moment you thought he was going to yank your hands off the dirt, but instead he placed them gently on top of yours. You felt your powers become amplified as the dirt began to root into the sand. Sand turned to dirt. Slowly, the transmutation worked. Once every grain had been converted you stopped pressing your hands down. You felt so weak between carrying sand and using your magic. You started to sway.. 

"Come here," Yoongi sat down next to you. You let yourself fall against him. 

"Sorry. I just want them to feel safe." you whispered. 

Yoongi moved some of your hair out of your face. "I know. You're a good person.You felt him press a kiss into your hair and all you could think was how much you needed a bath. 

Lethe walked in. It was quite the sight. The lord of the castle sitting in a pile of dirt with a filthy lady half-collapsed on him. Oh dear. 

"My lord are you ok? Is she OK?" she asked from the stairs. 

Yoongi normally would feel embarrassed being seen so casually, but at this moment, you were his most pressing concern. He stood up and then crouched down to pick you up. 

"Yoongi, that's not necessary," you quietly protested against his chest. 

"By the time you walk to your room I'll be late for my reaping." He teased. 

“Lady Persephone needs to rest.” He walked over to the stairs.

“And a bath.” You said.

“And a bath. And her hands redressed.” Yoongi added as Lethe carried the tea back towards your room with Yoongi following her. 

You tried to keep your breathing calm as you were pressed against Yoongi’s firm chest. You could hear his heartbeat racing. IT had been quite the day. Your mind traveled back to the kissing from earlier. You had been so busy you hadn’t thought of it since then but now...your face grew red. The three of you arrived at your room.

Lethe sat down the tea and excused herself to draw your bath. Yoongi sat you down on your bed. Your face was still red, you were sure of it.

“Are you ok?” Yoongi asked, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead.

“I’m just tired. It’s been a long day. Did you find anything in the tunnels?”

“No. Penthos is leaving tomorrow to investigate.”

“Is that safe? For him to go alone”

“Are you worried about him? I thought you two didn’t like each other?” Yoongi raised an eyebrow

You shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t like him, but I assume since he’s been your Steward he must have some redeeming qualities.”

Yoongi pushed some stray hairs behind your ear. “You really are too kind.” You saw a brief look of sadness cross his face. Before you could ask, it was  gone.

“I have a reaping to attend to.” He stood up. “I’ll see you later.Make sure you rest up.”

“Ok, thank you.”You responded quietly. 

Yoongi exited your room feeling his heart beating in his ears. You were too kind for the underworld. For him. You deserved to be on Earth where it was warm, and happy, and full of good things. But you had kissed him earlier. That had definitely happened. So maybe you wanted to stay. He should have asked you about it, he chastised himself, but you were so tired. He resolved to talk to you about it the next time he saw you. NEXT CHAPTER

[out-of-this-town]

The trouble of owning a dragon

Fairy Tail, Nalu, friendship, romance & fluff

Lucy ends up becoming the owner of a small, troublesome dragon. However, owning a dragon is not a simple matter -especially when the dragon turns out to be not a dragon.

Chapter 3 (ao3) (ff)

Lucy felt her hand shaking as she held the key in her grip, ready to summon Virgo. Before leaving yesterday, the spirit had assured her mage that she wouldn’t mind being the first to test out meeting Natsu. Still, Lucy was beyond nervous about how this would go.

She had fed Natsu a big breakfast and spend a good while petting him while blabbering about how amazing her spirits were, hoping that that would get him in a good enough mood to not pick any fights.

Lucy had wanted to summon Loki first, but on second thought, so far Natsu hadn’t reacted well to any man that got too close, so it might be best to start with a female spirit.

Quick glance told her that Natsu was still sitting by her feet. She knew he was getting bored with waiting on her to call a spirit, but damn she was nervous. What if Natsu didn’t get along with her spirits? No way was Lucy even capable of imagining giving up her keys for the dragons comfort. The spirits were her family, the magic learned from her mother.

But giving up Natsu didn’t seem right either. She hadn’t had him for longer than a few days, but he seemed already attached to her and handing him over to someone else just didn’t sit right with her. And given his size, setting him free into the nature seemed like a death sentence. Poor thing was far too tiny to look after himself.

Leaving him behind any time she left for a job would be the only option left. She was sure he wouldn’t be happy about it, and her apartment would pay the price for that.

“Remember to behave. It’s very important to me that you get along with my spirits,” she reminded Natsu for the thousandth time that morning. He looked up at her and Lucy swore he rolled his eyes.

Swallowing down her nerves, Lucy focused on her key. She had been very anxious about taking them out in front of Natsu. She knew that dragons were drawn to anything that was shiny, and her keys fit that description. It would be a nightmare if he decided to get possessive of her keys. Though so far, he hadn’t seemed too interested in them.

Once more, Lucy looked around to make sure there was nothing and no one that could get hurt if this went wrong. She had decided that an isolated spot on the beach was the best place for this -there was nothing that could catch on fire.

Before she could chicken out, the mage took a deep breath and summoned Virgo. 

As soon as the spirit appeared, Natsu was on his feet, the spikes along his back standing up, wings spread wide open and a low growl vibrating his body. He looked like an angry kitten, and Lucy felt bad for finding it to be amusing. The little darling was doing his best to be intimidating. Wasn’t his fault that he was far too small and adorable to strike fear into anyone’s heart.

“Good morning, Princess,” Virgo greeted her, completely ignoring the dragon.

“Hi. Thank you for doing this.” Lucy smiled at her, before kneeling on the ground and carefully setting her hand on Natsu’s back, hoping it would either calm him or stop an attack.

Virgo followed her example and sat down on the sand, avoiding making eye contact with the angry dragon in case he would take it as a challenge. “Of course, I’m always happy to help. Just tell me what you would like me to do.”

Lucy nodded at her friend in acknowledgment, before focusing on Natsu again. “Natsu, I told you that the my spirits are friends and not threats, so don’t be mean to them.” She rubbed her fingers gently against his side, trying to get him to shift his attention to her. 

After a minute of Virgo sitting in silence and not moving an inch, he seemed to relax enough to stop growling. When he glanced at her from the corner of his eye, Lucy gave him a soft smile. “This is Virgo. I know her entrance might have startled you, but that’s just how it is with Celestial Spirits. I promise she isn’t going to hurt either of us. In fact, Virgo has saved me plenty of times during my missions.”

That last part was what seemed to get Natsu to relax some, his wings and spikes lowering a little. Lucy scratched his head as a reward, before gently nudging him towards Virgo, who was holding out her hand for the dragon.

Natsu was slow to approach. He watched the spirit with distrust as he drew closer, looking for any reason to get defensive. Lucy encouraged him softly and drowned him with praise when he sniffed and poked at Virgo’s palm. He didn’t stay near the spirit for long, clearly wary of the otherworldly presence. Once he had enough of the new person, he rushed back to Lucy. Climbing into her lap, he sat down but kept his sharp eyes on the stranger. Lucy spent some more time chatting with Virgo while also petting Natsu, thinking that it would be good for him to see her interacting with the spirits. Maybe that way he’d realize there was no danger. And it worked. After a while he was far more focused on rubbing himself against Lucy’s hand than he was on watching Virgo.

Once the gate was closed and they were alone again, she spend a good while complimenting and scratching the dragon. He was happy to bask in the attention.

“Okay, now, Natsu,” at her serious tone, he looked up at her with curiosity. “Next up I’m going to call on Aries. I haven’t met her before, but I would like to start working with her, so we can’t spook her.” She was pleased to see that he looked very focused and was obviously listening to her. “She’s had it rough with her past mage, and from what I’ve heard, she is very timid and shy.”

Lucy lifted Natsu up to her shoulder and he was quick to take his favorite place around her neck as she stood up. “It would mean the world to me if you would help me with her.”

She tried hiding her anxiousness about meeting a new spirit by focusing on brushing the sand from her hands and clothes. She was startled to feel a warm snout nuzzling against her cheek. When he had her attention, Natsu clicked at her, and Lucy was sure that he had picked up on her panic and was trying to calm her. Moved by the gesture, the celestial mage gave him a quick scratch as a thanks before grabbing the key of the Ram.

After the golden glow of the gate had faded, in front of her was standing her new spirit. Aries was shifting on her feet nervously and biting her nails, doing her best to avoid eye contact. Lucy wasn’t surprised by the shyness, Loki had warned her, but her heart still broke knowing why the spirit was so wary of a new mage.

“Hi! I’m Lucy and you must be Aries,” she kept her tone as light and breezy as she could, wanting to appear friendly. “You have no idea how excited I am to meet you, Loki has told me so much about you.”

Aries stilled and glanced at her quickly before averting her eyes again. “I hope I’m not a disappointment.”

The spirit sounded so scared and ready to cry, that Lucy truly wished that Aries’ former mage was still around so that she could deal out some punishment for terrorizing this spirit so badly. She couldn’t stand the thought of a celestial mage abusing their spirits. No one should be forced to live under shuts conditions.

“Oh not at all, you seem great!” Lucy hoped she wasn’t coming on too strong, but the light blush on the spirit’s cheeks seemed like a good sign. “Actually, I was hoping to make a contract with you. No pressure though, if you don’t want to, I totally understand. I can either keep your key safe or pass it on to another wizard if you’d prefer.”

To be honest, the thought of handing out the key after spending so much time and effort -and acquiring a damn dragon- to get it was not a pleasant one, but no way was she going to keep the spirit hostage if she didn’t agree to a contract. That would go against everything Lucy believed a good celestial mage to be.

Aries’ head shot up, panic in her eyes as she shook her head feverishly. “N-no, please don’t give my key away. I’ll make a contract with you!”

Lucy frowned at the frightened voice. “I’m not giving the key away if you don’t want me to.” She tried reassuring. “But I’m not making a contract either unless it’s what you want. My spirits work with me only if they want to.”

Blinking away tears, Aries shuffled in her spot but didn’t respond.

“If you want to take more time to consider it, I’m okay with it. You can have all the time you want to decide and come up with conditions for a contract, I won’t pressure you for one now.”

After a long moment of silence, in which even Natsu seemed to hold still, Aries looked up at her with determination.

“I want to make a contract with you.”

Feeling her heart skip with happiness, Lucy forced herself to take a breath and ask again if the spirit was sure.

Aries nodded, pink curls pouncing. “Yes. The others have only said nice things about you, and I know you helped Loki. I...I want you to be my mage.”

Lucy couldn’t hide her smile. “Okay then, let’s make a contract!”

She was very meticulous with establishing the things and conditions with which Aries was comfortable working with. Luckily Natsu seemed to be able to hold himself from acting out while she was distracted. Growing bored of hanging from her neck after the first ten minutes, he spend his time climbing along her body, probably making some horrible holes in her clothes, and rolling around in the sand. Though he never wandered far from her and he kept giving Aries suspicious glances.

Only once the contract was completed and Aries seemed happy, did Lucy call Natsu over for an introduction. The little dragon rushed over with a puff of sand and clicked with excitement when the mage scooped him into her hands and held him towards Aries. The spirit was a little hesitant, her hand trembling when she held it out for Natsu.

Lucy was very relieved when all he did was sniff a little before nudging the fingers with his snout. It only took a few careful pets on his head for the ram spirit to melt and start cooing over how adorable Natsu was.

“Isn’t he?” Lucy couldn’t hide the silly grin that took over her face when she thought about the dragons antics. At her words, his head snapped towards her. By the spark in his eyes, Lucy assumed that he was pleased to hear her praise. 

The dragon seemed to have had enough of the petting after that, because he scampered his way back to her shoulder where he spend a good while rubbing against Lucy’s cheek while she was saying her goodbyes to Aries.

Once the gate was closed, she couldn’t contain her delighted scream as she grabbed the startled dragon into a tight hug.

“She agreed to work with me! And you did so well!” She couldn’t resist pressing a sound kiss on his small head. “I’m so proud of you.”

Natsu didn’t seem to mind the somewhat rough show of affection judging by the way he pressed into her face and clicked cheerfully. Lucy took a moment to enjoy the feeling of success before getting serious again. She needed to prepare Natsu for meeting Loki, after all.

It was crucial that the two of them got along. Loki was the one she called on most often, and since the spirit could come through the gate on his own, there were bound to be some surprise visits.

“Okay, Natsu, the next spirit is going to be a little more difficult for you, but I’m sure you can handle it.” She lifted the dragon to be at eye level with her. He tilted his head with curiosity. “Loki is a dear friend and the leader of the zodiacs, so as far as my spirits go, he is the strongest. But just to warn you...he is quite...flirty.”

At that, Natsu narrowed his eyes and growled, and Lucy continued to be surprised at how intelligent he was. To understand words as well as he did, seemed unbelievable. And yet, here he was, glaring at her keys and hissing at them, as if to warn away the offending spirit. How on Earthland did he comprehend so well what she was saying?

Sure Happy could hold a conversation perfectly well, but he wasn’t a regular cat. And as far as Lucy knew, dragons weren’t supposed to be this smart. She couldn’t wait to get to the research part in order to figure this out.

Lucy forced herself out of her own thoughts so that she could poke Natsu’s snout to gain his attention.

“None of that,” she said firmly once his dark eyes were on here. “Loki is not your enemy and I will not have the two of you fighting.”

Once the worst of the growling had calmed, Lucy wrapped the dragon into an one armed hug, grabbed the lion key and summoned its spirit before she could talk herself out of it. 

She already knew that this meeting wouldn’t go as smoothly as the previous ones, but there really was no avoiding it. She knew she’d have to go on another job soon since paying for Aries’ key had taken a massive chunk out of her savings, and going on a job meant using her spirits. And using her spirits meant that half the time she was summoning Loki since he was the best at adapting to a variety of situations and the least likely to ditch her in the middle of a battle.

At first it seemed like this might actually work. Natsu was tense and his claws were digging into her arm, but he wasn’t trying to wriggle to freedom or spitting fire. Even Loki seemed to behave himself, greeting her politely and keeping his distance.

But the whole thing went to hell when Lucy adjusted her hold on Natsu so that he was pressed more firmly against her. At that point, Loki couldn’t resist making a comment about wanting to switch places with the dragon. Truly, she should have seen that one coming.

After hearing that, Natsu wasted no time freeing himself from her hold and flying towards the lion spirit with astounding speed.

Luckily the spirit knew better than to start fighting back. He dodged the dragon’s claws with skill, while Lucy tried her best to talk Natsu into calming down. I didn’t work though, and eventually she saw it best to just close the gate and try again later.

To say she was disappointed would be an understatement. With the way the first two encounters with the spirits had gone, she had really started to hope that this too, would go well. But now, as she looked on while Natsu flew in circles and spat fire, searching for the enemy that had disappeared into thin air, she realized how dumb that hope had been.

No matter how intelligent he seemed, Natsu was still just a dragon with a dragon’s instincts and behavior. There might never be a day that he got along with all of her spirits. At least not while he saw those spirits as a threat to himself and the things he considered as his, and she knew Loki and Taurus would be especially challenging.

It took a good while before Natsu was calm enough that she dared to take him back to the guild, where she hoped to meet with Levy. If anyone could help her figure out how to deal with owning a dragon, it would most definitely be the solid script mage. No one had better problem solving skills than Levy.

Lucy was very nervous while walking through the guildhall. This time around there were lots of people around and it was putting Natsu on edge. She was gripping him so tightly in her arms, that it was a small miracle he didn’t pass out from the lack of oxygen.

She had nearly made it to the library doors when she heard her name being called by a familiar voice, instantly making dread gather to the pit of her stomach.

“Uh... Now’s not the best time, Gray,” she warned over her shoulder, not wanting to turn in case actually seeing the ice mage would make this worse for Natsu. As it were, he was already struggling for freedom after hearing Gray’s voice, clearly wanting to pick up the the battle from where it was left off.

“Yeah, just wanted to make sure you’re okay. Mira filled us in on the whole situation and I kinda got worried. From what I’ve heard, owning a dragon can get really dangerous.”

Lucy glanced at him with narrowed eyes. “I’m fine. Though Natsu could’ve been seriously hurt from the way you smacked him.”

At least he had the decency to look ashamed. “Sorry about that. I just kinda freaked and reacted after seeing that thing hissing and aiming for my face.”

Lucy regarded him for a moment before nodding in acceptance of his apology. She wasn’t one to hold grudges and she understood reacting before thinking when under an attack. Still, she didn’t think Natsu was going to let this one go just yet. 

“I forgive you, but it’s going to take a while before Natsu is friendly with you.” That was putting it too lightly. The little dragon was frantically trying to get away from Lucy’s hold in order to exact his revenge. She could feel his body starting to heat up in preparation to spitting fire. Little bastard was going to burn down the guild if this kept up.

“Not like I want hang out with your lizard either,” Gray scoffed.

“That’s too bad, since he’ll be around from now on.” Lucy was determined to keep the dragon. Her heart couldn’t take the idea of throwing him out on the steer to fend for himself. No matter how much trouble he would cause, Lucy would figure this out. 

And for that, she needed Levy and her books ASAP.

Gray opened his mouth to say something, but the sound of Juvia calling for him across the hall had the wizard scrambling for a place to hide, leaving Lucy the chance to slip into the library before anyone else could delay her.

She made sure that the library doors were firmly closed so that Natsu couldn’t slip out to cause havoc, before making her way between the shelves until she found her best friend sitting at their favorite table.

“Lucy!” As soon as Levy saw her, she jumped up to give her friend the normal greeting hug, only to flinch back when she noticed the small creature, still in Lucy’s arm, glaring up at her. “Wow, I half expected that Mira was joking when she said you got yourself a dragon, but I see it really is true.”

“To be honest, I’m still half hoping that this isn’t real.” Lucy shook her head with a soft smile to her friend before instructing Levy to hold out her hand for Natsu to sniff.

He seemed to be very suspicious of the new person. Taking his sweet time with the smelling process and squinting up at the blue haired mage. When he was done with that, he just huffed out a puff of smoke, wrinkled his nose and turned his face away from her.

Levy pouted a little at the obvious rejection. “He doesn’t like me. And I really wanted to pet a dragon too!”

Lucy gave a sympathetic smile, hoping to cheer her up. “Maybe he’ll come around with time. He doesn’t dislike you nearly as much as Gray.”

That seemed to appease the short woman enough to get her back on track. Levy indicated for Lucy to take a seat at the table that was piled high with books, all seeming to be about dragons. Natsu seemed very interested about crawling over the piles once he was given the freedom to do so, making both women worry about the damage his claws could cause.

“So, have you found anything that might help?” Lucy asked while keeping watch on the dragon from the corner of her eye.

Levy beamed and nodded with excitement. “Oh yeah! There’s plenty in these books. I don’t know why I haven’t thought to researched dragons before, they are so fascinating.”

“Don’t let Gajeel hear you say that, he might get jealous,” Lucy chuckled and watched as blush started to crawl on the other woman’s face. She didn’t understand why those two didn’t just get together already. It was obvious that they were head over heels for each other but refused to acknowledge their feelings. It was truly frustrating to watch. “And speaking of, what did he do to piss you off yesterday?”

Instantly, Lucy could see her friend’s temper rising. The embarrassed blush from earlier turning to one of anger. “Ugh, can you believe that jerk? He said I shouldn’t go on missions with Jet and Troy because I’ll get myself killed! It’s like he thinks that I can’t take care of myself!”

“Did you consider that maybe he doesn’t wan’t you going on missions with those two because he wants you to go with him?” Lucy had to bite down on her lip to stop herself from smiling. “Maybe he wants the chance to play the hero for you on jobs.”

After watching Levy sputter for an answer for a minute, Lucy let her out of her misery and asked what she had found so far. Levy seemed very grateful at the chance to avoid talking about the dragon slayer.

“Okay, so, from the color and his body shape alone, it’s clear that he’s a fire dragon. So you might want to check your fire alarm and get some more fire extinguishers. Maybe keep aquarius’ key close, I’m sure she’d be happy to help you but out the inevitable fires.” Lucy was not too pleased about Levy’s amusement at the notion. “Mira also said that you were worried about how small Natsu is despite being supposedly an adult.” At Lucy’s nod, she went on. “And while he is the size of a baby dragon, looking at him now, he has all the signs of having reached maturity.”

Lucy frowned at that. “How is that possible? He’s so small that I find it hard to believe he’s already an adult.”

“And I completely understand the confusion. It’s highly unusual for a dragon not to grow past this point. But if you look at the spikes along his back, the length of his claws, as well as how deep red his scales are, it’s obvious that he’s done growing. Dragons that are still considered fledglings, haven’t developed the spine barbs, their claws are short and soft, and the color of the scales is closer to pastel. Believe it or not, Natsu is an adult.”

“Then why is he so tiny? Don’t tell me he’s sick!” The celestial mage felt the worry starting to gnaw at her. Natsu seemed to pick up on the distress in her voice, since he immediately clambered over to her. He stood up on his hind legs and leaned his front paws on her chest so that he could inspect her face, before turning accusing eyes towards Levy who he assumed had caused her upset. Lucy set her hand on his back, hoping to stop an incident before it happened.

“If you haven’t noticed him showing any symptoms of sickness, I don’t think so.” The blue haired mage pulled a book closer to herself, as if to use it as a barrier against the dragon. “A dragon’s growth is wholly depended on the environment. They grow as long as they have space to fly and stretch their wings, as well as practice hunting and eat their fill. They also need to feel safe and secure, meaning staying with a fully grown dragon that protects them while they are still developing.”

Lucy looked down at the small dragon, feeling her heart ache. “So what you’re saying is that Natsu was probably separated from his parents when he was young, kept in a too small space, starved and living in fear.”

She would not cry at the thought. She would not.

But when Levy gave a sad nod, Lucy felt the tears gathering in her eyes and she couldn’t resist crushing the dragon with a fierce hug.

After Lucy took a minute to cuddle Natsu and gather herself, Levy tried telling her more about dragons and their behavior, but she found it difficult to focus. Her thoughts were too busy running around what could be a very dark past of her new companion. So what if he tried to murder Gray? The poor thing had probably been stolen from his mother while he was still a baby.

Was the one who stole Natsu the same wizard who had sold him to that shopkeeper? And did that person go around stealing baby dragons to sell? If so, Lucy would be all too happy to track down that bastard and show them just how angry that kind of business made her.

“Hey, Lu,” Lucy glanced up when she heard Levy’s voice, mortified to notice that she had spent a good while in her own thoughts. Levy had been nice enough to waste her morning helping her and she didn’t even have the decency to listen. 

“I’m so sorry! What were you saying?”

“Just that you don’t seem focused enough to do this now, and since I’m pretty sure that Natsu is about to chew that book, it’s totally fine if you want to go home for the day.” 

The blonde glanced over to where the dragon had wandered off to while she was lost in thought, and was horrified to realize that yes, Natsu was sniffing and licking a leather bound book in a manner that told her he was getting ready to sink his teeth into it. With a startling speed, the celestial mage grabbed him back into her arms and smiled apologetically at her friend. “I’m sorry. You’ve gone to all this trouble to help and I’m not even paying attention. But I’m fine and listening now, as well as keeping a better track of Natsu.”

Levy shook her head and smiled kindly. “No it’s fine, Lucy. I know you well enough to know that you are going to worry about what happened to Natsu for a good while. So how about you take some of the notes I made and few of the books I found very helpful, go home, cuddle and spoil your dragon in order to feel better, and I’ll drop by your place in a few days so we can go over everything.”

Lucy agreed to Levy’s suggestion far too easily. She hated to admit that she was relieved at the chance to ditch her friend, but Levy did know her too well; all she wanted to do was fuss over Natsu in hopes of filling some hole that was probably left by whatever trauma he had experienced. 

Without thinking, she let go of Natsu and went around the table so that she could give her friend a hug, but as soon as Levy’s arms went around her, an angry dragon screech could be heard. The women jumped away from the sound and looked over to where the culprit was crouching like he was getting ready to pounce, wings opened wide and spikes standing up from his back. The faintest glow of fire could be seen coming from his open mouth.

Levy was far quicker to catch on to what was happening, instantly stepping away from Lucy and dropping her arm from where it was still around her friends shoulder.

“It’s okay, see?” Levy held up her hands and took a few more steps back. “I’m not hurting her or trying to steal her away.”

Lucy looked between the two, uncertain on what she should do. She was upset at the idea that Natsu wouldn’t let her near her friends and wanted to tell him off for it, but at the same time she wanted to reassure him that everything was fine. 

Though it wasn’t. 

Lucy was a very affectionate person and, after the way her childhood had gone, the idea of never again being able to hug or be close to her friends chilled her to her bones.

“Lucy, I think you should take him home now and see if that would get him to calm down.” 

Nodding at Levy’s words, Lucy stepped closer to the table where Natsu was still situated. Holding out her hand, she let him climb on to her shoulder where he remained tense and watching the other woman.

Lucy was feeling truly anxious as she picked up Levy’s notebook and the two books that the script mage suggested. They were both very aware of the way Natsu’s eyes remained glued to Levy as they said their goodbyes from a distance, before Lucy slipped out of the library.

Thinking it best not to risk a trip through the guildhall, she used the backdoor exit that led to the alleyway where the guild’s trash was taken. It wasn’t the most pleasant way to leave the guild, but it was far better than another brawl started by her dragon.

Lucy tried do convince herself that the tears stinging her eyes were the result of the stinking garbage around her, and not from the fear and sudden sense of loneliness she was feeling.

[joa-quin-phoe-nix-fan]

I AM ALIVE Charlie Sisters FF/imagine

I AM ALIVE

You had begun to worry. Charlie had been gone for 6 months, with only 7 letters even giving you any proof that he was still alive. You sat near your window, in the open prairie, worrying away like you did every day, thinking about how he could be dead, he could be lost, he could be kidnapped by one of his targets, he might not see his baby be born. You rubbed your belly sadly, the time was drawing close, and you really wanted your baby to see its daddy. More than anything you wanted Charlie to see his baby. You couldn’t imagine life without Charlie, who would take you hunting every Sunday that he was home? Who would make you the best baked beans in the entire west coast? Who would make funny, rhyming names for things like a Mean-Bean or a Dorsie-Horsie? Who would help you with the baby? Who would love you like Charlie did? You sat there silently, wracking your mind of reasons why he hadn’t written in 2 months. All of them more worrying than the last, when you heard a knock at the door.

You jumped up as fast as you could in your condition, rushing to the door, hoping and praying to see Charlie’s smug face looking back at you, holding the money he earned from the Commodore, ready to sweep you off your feet, covering your face with kisses. Sadly, it wasn’t him. It was Rex, a colleague of Charlie’s that you knew to avoid most of the time, Charlie said he was a sleaze who took married women away from their husbands while they were away. Normally, when he came over, you could almost smell the desire coming from him, but this time he looked genuinely concerned, his eyebrows furrowed close together. “Hey there, um...Missus Y/N. Hav-have ya heard from Charlie recently?” you moved closer to the doorframe, hoping it was one of his womanizing schemes “Uh...no Rex, I haven’t.” You started to panic, “Why do ya ask? Did somethin’ happen to Charlie? Oh Lord please tell me this is just another plot of yers!” Rex waved his hands in front of him, defensively, “Woah, woah YN, please don’t get ya bloomers in a bunch! The commodore has just been askin’ ‘cus he ain’t heard from him in a while...and the last thing we recieved from him was this...” he handed you a leaf, and your heart jumped you knew that even if he ran out of paper, he was known to send leaves with letters written on them. You turned it over and gasped. On the other side of the leaf was written, in now dried blood; ‘I AM ALIVE” Rex sighed and held your shoulder gently, “and I promise ya darlin’ this ain’t no plot...we’re all worried about him, and by association, you.” Your stomach dropped. This was the worst situation you could’ve imagined for Charlie, him MIA in the dangerous wilderness, after some bloodthirsty criminal, with the last message from him being vague and written in blood. You breathed in sharply to hold in the tears, “I-I ain’t heard nothin’ from him, Rex...I’m sorry.” Rex sighed sadly and shook his head, “I’m the one who should be sayin’ that to you, Missus...I’m real sorry...” he bowed slightly, tipped his hat, and left. Looking sadder than a dog left out in the rain.

You closed the door, putting your back against it when it had shut. Tears filling up your eyes as you held you hand up to your mouth in shock and slid down slowly to the floor, the weight of that news hitting you like a ton of bricks. It was one thing for him to not update you on what was happening, but he never forgot to message the Commodore. Where was he? Maybe he was too far to send letters...yeah maybe that was it. He couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t be.

You woke up much later, still by the door, your eyes still stinging from crying yourself to sleep. It was dark out already. You grabbed the nearby stairwell railing to pull yourself up. You knew that the cows sure as hell were not gonna be pleased with how late you were but it’d be better if you milked them tonight, rather than have a cow-riot tomorrow morning. After you heaved yourself up again, you grabbed your gun, your bucket and a lantern, you walked outside, ready to vent to the cows about your day. It was a rather silly habit, but a habit that was strangely therapeutic and one that despite you being rather upset, seemed to calm the cows down...maybe they just liked hearing you talk.

As you walked to the cows, you saw what you assumed was a figure riding a couple acres away. You took no notice, thinking it was a lonesome hunter going back home after a long hunt. It was only after the first three cows that you realized that the sound of hooves hitting the dusty ground had gotten much closer. ‘It’s someone looking for Charlie!’ you thought as you jumped behind a bunch of hay bales, cocking your gun before they got close enough to hear you do it. You had no idea how much time had passed by the time you heard the hooves stop by the stables, the rider jump down, and hitch up his horse. ‘Why would a killer or a robber do that?’ you wondered to yourself, with your finger drifting off of the trigger as an impossible thought passed through your head, ‘is that Charlie?’

You heard him walk slowly and tiredly up on the porch, shuffling his feet as if removing them from the porch would mean that he would instantly tumble over. If this was Charlie, you had never seen him this tired and sad before. Then you suddenly heard the man drop to his knees, at this point you thought it wouldn’t hurt to just peek at the man, you looked up, seeing a man with significantly longer hair and a smaller build than Charlie, kissing your porch! At this point you knew for a fact that it wasn’t your husband so you jumped up, grabbing your gun and aimed it at the man as you quickly walked towards him. “You best be getting off ma porch! My husband’s a bounty hunter and if he were here, he’d kill you quicker than I gaddamned will!” You knew it was a bad idea to tell this stranger that you were home alone but because he looked so small and sickly, you knew you could hold your own in a fight against him. The man crawled back, his hands in front of his head, shaking like a leaf in a tornado. “please...listen to me. I ain’t who ya think i am...” he whispered, hoarsely. Even with the hoarseness, you knew that voice as if it was your own. You dropped the gun, running close to him and cupping your hands around his angular face, “Charlie? Oh my god, is that really you, honey?” Charlie nodded weakly, tears now running down his face like a waterfall. “yeah, it’s me darlin’...”

After a long moment of hugging each other and crying, you brought Charlie into the house, sure that he was cold and hungry. As he sat in his armchair, you truly saw the difference, the crease where the top of his head usually ended was miles above the small, unshaven man sitting in the chair. He looed like a tiny scared puppy in a doghouse built for a doberman. It would almost be hilarious if the situation wasn’t so serious. After giving him some bread, butter and chicken, that he scarfed down, almost choking as he did it, you started talking with him.

“W-where have ya been? I was worried sick...” you asked, hugging yourself and barely being able to even look at him in this situation, suddenly you remembered, reached into your pocket and pulled out the leaf letter and handed it to him, sitting down next to the chair, “and what...what is this?” he held the leaf weakly and sighed, defeated “I...was robbed...” he sighed, his voice only slightly less hoarse now, “My horse, my gun, my money, my paper and pens, my food, everything.” He stared off to space as he told his tale. “I barely begged hard enough to keep my clothes and the tiny shreds of my dignity that I had left. So I had to walk or crawl my way home. I ate wild animals and random leaves and berries I found. I got myself poisoned that way twice. I never took you out of my mind. When a man on a horse came past me and offered his help in exchange for my shoes, I didn’t ask for his horse, I simply asked him to send a letter to Oregon for me. That was the leaf. After he left me I realized my mistake and i kicked myself right there, but much further on I saw a horse lying on the ground, it honest to god looked dead. But it weren’t. I fed it half of the food I had scavenged and somehow it survived the last month of the journey. That’s the horse that’s outside, could ya maybe feed him? I named him Savior. He really helped me when I was at my worst.” This story was terribly sad, it rocked you to your core that he had gone through this all this time while you were at home, moping about how lonely you were. “I’m so sorry...if I had known I-” Charlie shushed you gently, stroking your hair, “You had no way of knowin’...I’m just glad you’re safe and alive, and that the baby hasn’t been born yet.” You giggled. Despite how sad the situation was, you were incredibly grateful that he was home and you loved how he could easily make a morbid situation even slightly humorous.

He stood up slowly, pulling you up at the same time. Once you were both standing fully (which took a while) he held you close to his chest. Despite him being much skinnier, he still stood quite a bit taller than you, he held your head up to his heart, it sounded much stronger and healthier than you expected. “It’s so loud...” you whispered to him, he chuckled lightly “It’s singing to you, ‘cause it knows you’re here...”

sorry if the ending is kind of short XD I still have no idea how to end stories correctly lol

[aquariuscurly94]

Being a Roommate with a Half-Demon

Chapter One

Summary: All she wanted was a new beginning at her dream city of Tokyo. She didn't think that she'll meet a hot headed hanyo (apparently those exist) & be his roommate. She also didn't think that both of their pasts would collide and haunt them both in ways they even they couldn't imagine. SLOWBURN! AU!

Disclaimer: I own nothing from Inuyasha just the plot Warning: this story will contain mentions of domestic violence throughout the story please don’t read if you are not comfortable with it.

Roommate Wanted

Single male looking for a roommate, rent is $800 a month. Must be okay with me working nights and returning early mornings. Must know how to clean and cook for yourself. Also, you must be okay with me being a half-breed.

Kagome Higurashi leaned back on the chair that she was sitting on, her finger pressing lightly on the mouse pad on her laptop, chewing her lower lip thoughtfully as she reread the Craigslist ad that she had stumbled upon earlier.

The ad was quite interesting to her because she’s been looking for a place of her own for quite sometime now ever since she had moved to her dream city of Tokyo. However, it would’ve been harder on her if she lived by herself so she decided to scroll through this website Craigslist in hopes that someone would post an ad about wanting a roommate. Sure enough, she found an ad within minutes of her search.

“What did he mean by half-breed?” She wondered out loud, wondering why he would put that on his ad. She doesn’t understand what could it mean. She never heard of that term before.

She shrugged her shoulder as she continued to scroll down the roommate ad, trying to find some sort of phone number but instead all she could find was an email that was attached to the bottom of the ad.

Kagome sighed heavily underneath her breath, turning around to look over her shoulder at her medium size hotel room, thinking long and hard about what she should do. She stared at her half unmade bed, her belongings that she managed to get were laying on the foot of the bed. It has only been a couple of months since she started staying at this hotel. Meaning it’s been a couple of months since she had escaped.

Escaped.

The young raven haired woman still feels like she was on edge, wondering each and everyday if he’ll somehow come back and find, forcing her to come back to him, or worse.

Her whole body started to shiver violently at the thought, trying to remind herself over and over that he’s in jail and won’t be able to see the light of day again after what he had put her through. All that mattered now is that she’s safe, she’s alive, she’s in the city of her dreams and was finally starting over for the better.

Kagome closed her mahogany eyes as she took several long deep breath through her nose to calm herself down at the thought of starting over. “Your safe,” she whispered quietly, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. “He’s not here. He’s in jail. You. Are. Safe Kagome.”

She sighed in relief when her shivers had finally settled down and glanced at the ad once more, debating if she should respond to it and send this Inuyasha guy a email.

She knew from the email that was attached to the ad the person’s name was Inuyasha. However, there was no mention of a last name.

Kagome noticed a date that Inuyasha had wanted the person to move in by, smiling when she saw that it’s near the time range for when she starts her new job as a full time medical records specialist at Tokyo University Hospital. She laughed at the fate and about the opportunity that’s sitting in front of her like Kami knew that they were looking out for her.

Her small fingers drummed lightly on the mouse pad, trying to do the math inside her head. The email specifically stated that the person that’s interested should have the first month’s rent. Kagome should have plenty of money that she had stashed away in her savings account. Just enough for the first month’s rent and she’ll be starting her new job soon after!

Again, she strongly believes that Kami’s looking after her.

“Alright,” Kagome muttered, clicking the reply button at the top of the email before she changes her mind. “Let’s do it!” She smiled warmly at the screen, pursing her lip while she typed out a response, hoping that he would respond soon and quick after she had pressed the send button above the screen.

It was the sound of a loud bleeping noise that was coming from a phone that sat laying face down on a small black night stand that awoke a sleeping silver haired hanyo from his sleep.

One of his ears that sit on top of his head flickered at the sound, making one of his golden eyes open up slightly when the annoying sound made that bleeping noise again, telling him that there’s a email that needs to be open.

“Could’ve swore I put that damn thing on fucking silent.” He muttered groggily, reaching over with a clawed hand to grab his phone, wondering who had sent him a email.

He moaned when he had checked the time on the screen and muttered out a few curses underneath his breath when he saw that the time had read 5:30PM, not even close enough for him to be up which would be around eight before his club that open opens at 9:00PM.

He used an elbow to prop himself up on his bed, lifting an eyebrow with interest when the email had caught his eye.

It seems like it was a response to his roommate ad that he had posted from about a week ago from that website Craigslist, a website that his long time friend Miroku had talked to him about one day. You could literally post any type of ad you want. No questions asked.

“Huh, someone’s actually interested?”

He used a clawed finger to click on the email so he could fully read the message, cocking his head to the side which made his long mane of silver hair cascade down over his shoulder.

Hi Inuyasha!

My name is Kagome, and I’m sending out this email in regards to your roommate ad that I saw on Craigslist! I am highly interested in being your roommate! And I can definitely give you the first month’s rent right away! Please respond as soon as you can!!

Inuyasha narrowed his eyes at the email, slightly taken aback that someone’s actually interested in being his roommate after he had read it several times to make sure that he was reading it correctly.

He growled lowly, thinking that it has to be some sort of trick. There’s no way that someone would be willing to live with someone that was a disgusting half breed like him. He made it specifically clear that whoever responds to the ad had to be okay with him being a hanyo and couldn’t believe that someone actually responded.

Again, it had to be a trick.

Inuyasha hummed when he looked back at the email, wondering if this *Kagome* person was a human woman or a demon, frowning when he couldn’t find any description of her in the message. Should he even respond to her?

Inuyasha placed his phone back down on the night stand and stood up from his bed, yawning loudly as he stretched out his arms above his head, making his muscles pop from the tension from sleep. He grabbed a random shirt that was laying randomly on the floor to slip over his head and made his way over towards the kitchen.

“Might as well make some dinner.” He said quietly, turning on the stove and went underneath a cabinet to grab a small pot so that way he could make a quick bowl of ramen noodles.

After his ramen was done cooking, he made his way back to his room and sat down on his bed, using a pair of chopsticks to scoop up his delicious noodles that he loves so much into his mouth.

It took him about eight bites before he finally place the empty bowl on his nightstand, burping after the last noodle went down his throat, sighing when he side glanced at his phone that’s next to the bowl.

It has been a full week since he had made that ad about wanting to find a roommate. Truth to be told, he honestly didn’t think that someone would actually respond to it or even be interested. He was actually going to delete it once he had woken up. However, it could really help him out, especially since the recent events that had happened this past month.

Inuyasha snarled angrily when he thought back of a heated argument that had transpired between him and his elder half brother Sesshomaru. He still couldn’t believe that he had cut him off completely! All because he didn’t want to join him and the stupid corporate lifestyle by working at their dad’s company as Sesshomaru’s right hand man.

Inuyasha had never saw himself working at Taisho’s Inc. He had always dream of having something of his own without his last name being attached to it. Thank Kami he had managed to open up a club using what he had left in savings, thanking Kami again that it’s actually doing quite well despite being a new night scene.

Even so, a roommate could really help him keep his lights on and indoors.

“Damn it,” he huffed out, reaching over to grab his phone and clicked on the email to send out a quick response before turning off his phone completely so he could shower and get dress for the evening, getting mentally prepared for work in hopes for another packed night.

“Thank Kami its fucking Friday.” He said out loud while he was washing off the suds of soap from his body. “Hopefully she’ll actually show up.”

Kagome,

If you are truly interested in being my roommate, I need to meet you before we can make final arrangements. Meet me at Club Tessaiga at 11:00PM. Don’t be late.

~Inuyasha

A/N: Here is chapter one of my story!! I’m mainly going to post it on my A03 and FF account! My user name on both of those are CurlyBookWriter94 :) please let me know you guys think of it :)

[karmathecat]

Firewhiskey is Not the Best Mixer | Part 5

The next installment of my next gen/marauder time travel fic! 

FF | AO3

After the quickest lunch of their lives, the group made their way up to the seventh floor. Lily was doing all she could to not break out into a full run up the moving staircases, which were thankfully in position for where they needed to go as if the castle knew the importance of their journey. 

“If the room is on the seventh floor, we’ll have to be careful it’s out of bounds because of construction after the fifth years blew a hole in the wall fighting and burst a pipe. Apparently magical sewer systems can’t be fixed with a repairing charm. If we get caught up there we’ll be in deep shit, so be quick about getting into the room.” Lily thought it was amusing that her grandmother wasn’t necessarily against breaking the rules, but against getting caught. A trait that she definitely saw in herself.

“I just can’t believe that we never knew about this, we’ve explored this castle, how many times? And we never came across a room that could give us anything we wanted?” Sirius seemed almost insulted that the castle had never revealed such a secret to the Marauders. Lily couldn’t help but think that it was a good thing that these boys didn’t have access to a room that could supply them with countless inconveniences for the rest of the school. She knew that her brother would have used his knowledge of this room on countless occasions to make her life miserable whilst they were both at school if it had been available to him.

“Maybe you just never needed something enough.” Al shrugged his shoulders as they stopped at the stretch of wall that Lily knew the room was. She had heard the stories about the DA so many times, demanding her dad tell her about all the times that he had taught the rebellious group. 

I need a room with a time turner that allows me to travel years forward in time. 

I need a room with a time turner that allows me to travel years forward in time. 

I need a room with a time turner that allows me to travel years forward in time. 

Whilst Lily was pacing, James took out the Marauder’s Map. He knew that not adding this room’s discovery to the map would bother his completionist side, he knew it was here now so it needed to be added. He found the seventh floor on the map, saw the group standing around and was about to mark the section that Lily was pacing in front of to add the room later, when he froze. He felt the heat start in his toes and rise limb to limb until he knew for a fact that his face and ears were so red heat could be felt without touching his skin. 

“James?” 

He ignored the other, staring intently at the map, watching the name pace back and forth as he knew the girl, Lily’s granddaughter, was doing to access the room. Then the name stopped, and James looked up to see the younger girl looking at him in confusion, behind her a door had appeared in the space where a blank wall once was moments before. He could also feel the eyes of his three best mates, the girl he loved, and his grandsons on him, probably questioning his weird reaction. 

“Lily Potter.” 

Lily’s eyes widened as she drew in a sharp breath. The map. How could she forget the map? 

“It says here your name is Lily Luna Potter.” It wasn't a question, they both knew that the map never lied and that was her name, she couldn’t deny it. 

Before James could question her, or Lily could open her mouth, a noise was heard at the end of the corridor. 

“Filch! Quick everyone in.” Remus rushed forward, opened the door that Lily’s pacing had conjured. The momentary surprise evaporated and as one the group charged into the room just as Filch rounded the corner. The door slammed shut behind them and the caretaker was none-the-wiser. 

Once the shock of running into the room wore off, all of the Marauders turned to look at Lily. 

“You’re a Potter then?” It was surprisingly Peter who addressed Lily, as he was someone who had skirted around the three time travellers as if he didn’t quite know what to make of them. 

Lily blew out a breath, and knowing what she needed, two sofas that looked identical to those in the Gryffindor common room appeared in front of them. Lily took her grandmother and the Marauders to the sofas to sit. Lily noticed her two brothers did not join them, but knew that this conversation was more pressing than looking for them. 

“It said it on the map Pete, you know the map doesn’t lie it’s linked to your magical signature.” 

“Let me see then.” James went into his robe pocket to pull out the map, but felt nothing. He started patting his other pockets and looking around him, but to no avail. 

“I must have dropped it! If Filch saw it outside in the corridor he’ll definitely have confiscated it!” James swore and looked at his friends apologetically, distraught at having lost such a precious item through carelessness. 

“If it makes you feel better,” Lily spoke up, “you losing the map to Filch is how my dad ended up with the map in the first place. So, if you think about it, you losing it now was actually the best thing that you could have done.” The four boys seemed to consider this, exchanged a heavy look between them and nodded in silent communication. Lily was certain that this was what people meant when they said that the three Potter children could communicate without words and it was very disconcerting to watch. However, when growing up the children of the most famous man in their society with every eye on them at all times, they had to be able to say the things they were truly feeling without it getting printed in that evening’s paper. Each of the Potter children had learnt the hard way who they could trust and what they could say when. The constant secret keeping and trouble making that these boys got into was another example of high stakes communication, so she understood better than most the importance of the exchange that had occurred in front of her eyes. Without having spoken out loud, it was clear that James was chastised but Lily’s words were considered and he was forgiven, the entire exchange had taken no longer than 30 seconds. 

Lily watched as her grandmother eyed the boys, she could tell that the Head GIrl understood that a communication was occurring, but not what was being said. It must be exhausting to be around such a tight knit group but not being privy to the information and exchanges that passed between them. Lily Evans was staring at James without any embarrassment, she knew the conversation that was about to occur and she was determined to get her opinion across if it was the death of her. 

James nodded and then directed the conversation back to Lily, “So you are a Potter? Lily Potter.” 

Lily looked towards the Head Girl before nodding. “Yes, James and Al are my older brothers.” 

“So what does that mean?” Sirius looked Lily up and down and for the first time since yesterday eyed her with slight distrust. 

“Well, it means that my parents' surnames are Potter.” 

“Don’t be cute, we’ve come this far now you might as well tell us.” Sirius shook his head and a ghost of a smile appeared as Lily blew out another breath and knew she’d been caught. What was the harm anyway, one half of her grandparents already knew it wasn’t like she was changing the course of history, she was just being honest. 

“Okay, well, James and I are named after my dad’s parents: James Potter and Lily Potter nee Evans.” 

Lily let her words settle over the group. The redhead sat beside her was running her hands up and down her thighs in anxiety staring intently at James whose eyes were fixed solely on his granddaughter. 

“We all owe you five galleons.” Remus’ words were unexpected, but seemed to break the tension that Lily’s words had left. Sirius let out a loud laugh and clapped James hard on the shoulder who seemed to still be in a state of shock. Lily hid her giggle behind her hand and glanced over at Lily who was still intensely staring at James who was still let to look at her. If Lily was honest with herself it looked like James was in a state of shock. 

Lily cocked her head to the side at the other Marauders, and as four they stood to allow the two Heads to talk about Lily’s revelation. 

“Let’s go and find my brothers yeah?” The boys nodded and Lily looked around at the room for the first time. It was one long room with shelves on each side. On both shelves there were various devices which Lily presumed were variations of the time turner based on her request to the room. Beneath each device there was a plaque describing the device's name and a brief summary of how to use it. Lily walked over with the three Marauders to her brothers who were both standing at a section of shelf and were in deep discussion. 

“Hey Lil, finally revealed our familial bond?” James laughed as Lily hit him on the arm. 

“Noticed that you two were conveniently absent for that conversation!” 

“We thought that you had it handled, and why put myself in an awkward conversation when I don’t have to!” Al laughed as Lily’s glare was directed towards him next. 

Remus laughed at the siblings’ antics, and now that he knew he couldn’t believe that he hadn’t realised their relationship purely based on their interactions, the playful banter and closeness that he had only seen in the Marauders who were described as brothers and not friends. But, Remus mused, it was easy to realise these things when you knew the information vital to understanding. 

“Anyway, what have you found?” Al explained that whilst they were chatting they’d started looking at each of the time devices and were able to quickly dismiss the first few devices based on the fact they were theoretical prototypes and had never been used before. James explained that they weren’t to be trusted as something that worked in theory very rarely worked in practice without a bit of trial and error and they shouldn’t risk more errors with time travel. Lily couldn’t help but agree with their assessments, it was a rare treat to see both of her brothers in work mode as James never brought work home and Al was in another house.

“We’ve narrowed it down to this one here. The name on the plaque, she’s an Unspeakable that I studied for my exam. She created a lot of time manipulation devices and her success rate was very high. So if I was going to place my bets on any device that has been presented by the room it would be this one.” Al picked up the device that he was referring to. It looked like a standard time turner that she had seen in her textbooks but with my dials. It was a beautiful rose gold colour which she knew differed from the traditional gold. 

James explained that there were three dials on the turner, days, months and years. Lily had to admit that it seemed simple in comparison to all of the intimidating devices that surrounded the simple one that her brothers had selected. 

“There’s one more thing,” all of their attention was directed towards Al again, “we can’t take the devices out of the room. We’ll have to use the device here.” This made sense to Lily, the room created all of the devices so they only existed in the room so logically could only be used in the room. 

“Okay then, shall we report back what’s going on and talk about how to go forward?”

X-X-X

Lily watched her granddaughter walk away with the Marauders and looked towards James. He was staring down into his lap, and didn’t look up when Lily slid into the seat next to him. 

“James?” 

He still didn’t look up and Lily felt a clenching in her chest, she thought that the knowledge that she and James were meant to be together was set in stone but now looking at him not acknowledging her she wasn’t so certain anymore. 

“I’m sorry.” 

James had spoken to softly that Lily wasn’t certain that she’d heard him. Why was he apologising to her?

“I’m sorry you were blindsided like that, I didn’t mean to put you in that position, I was just taken aback by seeing her name. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I’m so sorry Lily. If you need space and stuff I understand, I obviously love talking and being with you but finding out about Lily, well that must have been a shock for you right now, and I know you don’t feel that way about me, so yeah, I’d understand if you need some space.” 

James hadn’t looked at Lily the whole time he spoke, but delivered his speech to his lap where his hands twisting around themselves.

“James, I knew about Lily,” James’ head shot up to look at her for the first time, “she told me last night.” 

James frowned at her and stared intently, “you knew?” 

“I knew.” 

“And you’ve still been around me all morning and acting normal?” 

Lily sighed, she knew that this was the time to put all her cards on the table, but now the time was here she felt the anxiety settle deep in her stomach. 

“James, I wanted to know if our lives were intertwined through our grandchildren because our children happened to get together, or whether it was you and me. I wanted to know from my granddaughter whether I was wasting my time falling in love with you and if I’d missed my chance with you. Because I am, falling in love with you I mean.” 

“What?” James had never been so shocked in his life, he had no idea. He thought that the time that they had spent together this year had been amazing, they had been getting closer but he hadn’t let himself hope for something more, he went to bed every night telling himself that friendship was enough. 

“I’ve been falling in love with you since last year, I thought you might have gotten over me and I’d missed my chance, but hearing that from Lily well I let myself believe that maybe I still had a chance, but if that isn’t the case and you don’t want to be anything more than friends then-” Lily was abruptly cut off my James’ mouth on hers. The kiss was urgent but soft and exactly what Lily imagines kissing James would be like. 

James pulled back and looked Lily in the eye for the first time, “I never want you to say something as ridiculous as me not wanting you, ever again. Do you know how long I’ve wanted this, how long I've hoped this could happen.” 

This kiss was slow and steady, and melted Lily from the inside out and she felt at home. 

“Go out with me Evans?” 

“Always.” 

Lily looked over her shoulder when they heard the others approaching. Lily was smiling at the new couple with joy. 

“Come on you two, we have a lot to discuss. Let’s go back to the common room.”

[queencarolinemikaelson]

Rootless Tree II

Hello lovers, here is a short second part to a drabble I wrote for a fandom event I think in April! Hope you like! You can read part one on AO3, FF, or here! 

/

Fifteen Years Later

Klaus was in a bar. It wasn’t a particularly uncommon occurrence for him, but he usually wasn’t completely alone, as he was that day.

He finished work, some meaningless hours before, and joined a couple of colleagues for an after work drink.

When they left for their homes, he stayed; waiting at his home was more of the same melancholy loneliness that had been nipping at his insides for a few months now.

He wasn’t there to drown his sorrows, by any means; he wasn’t particularly sorrowful for anything. Nor had he been having a rough trot of it. But the fact of the matter was he was staring down the barrel of thirty-five, and he wasn’t all together too sure what he had to show for it.

He had a family and group of friends who loved him – he was lucky. A well-paying, rewarding job – better than many around him. A house – check. With a mortgage – double check.

He had nearly all of the things a thirty-five-year-old should have, he supposed.

But Klaus was not a naïve man. He knew for all his bluster over the years about singlehood, he did want someone to share his life with.

His baby sister was to be married in a few months, and then it would be just him and his 21-year-old brother who were unmarried. Even Kol was tied by the ring finger to someone, and he barely stood still long enough to brush his teeth.

And it was fine, of course it was fine, but on that day, in that moment, Klaus knew he wanted something more.

Something real.

As he called for another drink, a smattering of applause broke his concentration on his own plight.

About an hour before, a folk singer and her guitar had become the soundtrack to Klaus’ musings. She really did have a beautiful voice, and the few lyrics he tuned in to hear were quite meaningful. Though he couldn’t see her, closeted away in a dark booth as he was.

She began speaking softly to the audience after the clapping was silent again.

“This will be my last song…” she said, a little nervously. “It was written by a truly incredible songwriter, and I strive daily to craft stories, and weave emotions the way he does.”

Klaus took a sip, and decided to tune in fully for the final song.

“I’ve been really feeling this lately,” she continued. “A lot has been happening in my life, and this song… really grounds me. Maybe because I heard it for the first time when I was still very young. Maybe because it has the kind of energy I want to convey. Maybe just because it expresses how I’m feeling. Anyway… here it is.”

The woman began to pluck her guitar strings in an effortless rhythm, and familiar notes washed into Klaus’ ears, and he could hardly believe it.

What I want from you, is empty your head

He grabbed his beer and left his booth.

But they say, be true, don’t stain your bed

He settled on a stool by the bar, and had a clear line of vision to the source of the voice.

And we do what we need to be free

And it leans on me, like a rootless tree

Klaus watched saw the light crease in the woman’s forehead as she sang through the words, and he could tell she deeply connected with what she was singing.

What I want from us, is empty our minds

He watched her fingers pick furiously, though noted how her eyes remained firmly closed the whole time. He wondered just how many times she played that song, to be so comfortable with it that she didn’t need to ever look at what she was doing.

But we fake, we fuss and fracture the times

Her voice was truly remarkable, Klaus thought, and he wished he paid more attention to her earlier in her set. 

We go blind when we needed to see

And this leans on me like a rootless

She shook her head from side to side as she played, causing her bob-length blonde hair dance around her face in such and enchanting way.

Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, and all we’ve been through

The harsh words falling from her lips didn’t seem as wrong as he thought they might, for once again, he was struck with the emotion she was weaving into the song.

I said leave it, leave it, leave it, it’s nothing to you

He gazed on her face, still transfixed by the small crease in her brow that he noticed earlier. It signalled to him that she felt the song in the same way he did.

And if you hate me, hate me, hate me, hate me so good

It was almost liberating to know someone understood it. Someone knew what he felt so many times.

That you just let me out, let me out, let me out it’s hell what you’re around

Klaus listened in a trance for the remainder of the song, and couldn’t help but stand to applaud her when she finished.

“Thanks for coming, have a good night now,” she said, almost abashed into the microphone, before leaving the stage.

Klaus sat back down, feeling strangely empty.

He had gone to the bar that day to feel connected to something, and he found that connection. For it to be so fleeting, and for it to be now over…

He turned his back on the now empty stool where she once sat, opting instead of stare into his beer despondently.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting that way when he heard a soft voice order a glass of wine next to him. The voice was familiar enough for Klaus to glace up.

It was her.

He gave her a smile, one which she returned almost slyly.

He was a little taken aback, she had seemed far too demure to slyly smile at him.

“Well, fancy seeing you here,” she said, and Klaus was suddenly awash with dread. Was he supposed to know her?

“I don’t know love, I’d say the same about you,” he said, cockily, hoping if he blustered through confidently enough he could give himself time to place her face. It was familiar, now he saw her up close he could see that, but didn’t know why.

She let out a tinkling laugh in response to his comment.

“You have no idea who I am, do you?” she giggled, her whole face alight.

“Is it that obviously,” he replied, grinning sheepishly.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, I think the last time we spoke I was like eleven, you played me Rootless Tree in your 1970-something Corvette!”

“Caroline?” he asked.

She nodded kindly, and took her place on the stool next to him.

“Has it honestly been fifteen years since I spoke to you?” Klaus said, bemused.

“Pretty much,” she replied.

“Time really does have a way of getting away from us all, doesn’t it?”

He tried to say it without the wistfulness he felt, but didn’t quite manage it.

“It sure does,” she replied, and Klaus was comforted to hear she too sounded wistful.

They both sat in silence for a few minutes, taking sips from their drinks, lost in their own thoughts.

“What have you been doing with yourself these past fifteen years, Mr Mikaelson?” she asked, pulling his mind away from more sombre things.

From there, the two of them began chatting away, as though they were old friends. Which really was at odds with what they really were – which was barely more than a much older brother who met his much younger sister’s friend once over a decade ago.

He shared everything from why he chose to go to law school in London, to his favourite breakfast cereal, all the way to the existential dread he had been dealing with over the past few months. She in turn told him about her career, her music, her fears of the future and everything in between.

Klaus had forgotten that, yes, it could just be instantly easy with someone. That someone could actually fully capture his attention.

He wasn’t sure what he would do when she inevitably had to go. No matter how much it felt like there was no world beyond them, the hours had marched on. How could he go back to a world where he wouldn’t see her.

“So will I see you at Bekah’s wedding?” he asked, hopefully.

Maybe she would be there, and they would dance. He could hold her, whisper into her ear, and everything would feel alright, just like it did now.

But, Caroline stiffened, her contentment dissipating, causing his heart to sink.

“I’ve been invited,” she said, simply.

Klaus turned his body so he could study her face. It was truly beautiful, but had well-covered sadness suddenly pinching at the corners of the mouth.

“Will you attend?” he probed.

She looked down into the depths her wine glass, taking a moment to answer.

“Bekah and I aren’t really as close anymore,” she said, carefully, still maintaining eye-contact with her wine glass. “I haven’t spoken to her much in the last few years.”

“Oh, really,” Klaus said. “I wasn’t aware.”

He supposed he had lived away from his family for a very long time, and of course people changed. But it stung somewhat that things couldn’t be easy, just this once.

“The two of you always seemed so close, and she and Stefan still talk about your college days often… I just assumed.”

Klaus caught an infinitesimal flinch on Caroline’s face as he mentioned Stefan, and suddenly wondered whether it was less of a losing touch between two friends, and more of a rift.

“Oh you know, life happens,” she replied, vaguely. “I feel as though I’m a bit of an obligation-invite. So I guess we’ll see how I feel on the date of RSVP.”

Caroline let out a tinkling laugh, and downed the rest of her wine, making a move to stand up.

“I better get going anyway,” she said, and it was Klaus’ turn to flinch, as he wished he never mentioned Rebekah, and that their moments together could continue. “Early morning.”

“Same here, love,” he replied, disappointment niggling at his insides.

She placed her hand on his arm and gave it a little squeeze.

“It was really nice to see you, Klaus,” she said earnestly. “You gave me such an important gift back then. My music can be linked so strongly back to that car ride with you. And I think my life would look a whole lot different without it. Bye for now.”

He smiled at her, the kind of genuine smile he didn’t know whether he still had.

Their eyes locked, and for the most fleeting of moments, Klaus’ heart filled and his mind flashed through the life he could have with Caroline if things had been different, if she wasn’t his little sister’s friend, if he didn’t feel like his best years were gone, if they could be in the same place at the same time. 

“I hope to see you around, Caroline.” 

/

This is the song Caroline is singing. Listen, and love Damien Rice.

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

It’s The Avengers (02x11)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 2 Episode 11: Oh God! They were Fake Dating!

Warnings: oh shit! I wrote fluff! Aaaah! Also, I’d suggest you guys listen to the two soundtracks added in here so that it’s better to imagine what our precious goofballs are truly up to.

Word Count: I didn’t realise when my medications were over. And now I’m not feeling that good. I was supposed to make an appointment for this weekend to meet the new doc but I am so exhausted mentally that it looks like such a huge effort to travel to and from another city for four hours in a single day and talk to someone from freaking scratch. *falls in the floor face down*

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

Scott's voiceover: I don't feel like they're going anywhere.

The camera showed you sitting in the lounge, your hair a hot mess, your reading glasses nearly falling from the bridge of your nose. Pietro, with quite possibly the biggest sandwich he could make along with a tall glass of iced tea, passed you, sniffing the air of the lounge before scrunching his nose.

"Mh, haven't showered for two days, huh? Let me guess. Your finals are from tomorrow."

You didn't even acknowledge what he just said, too engrossed in the pile of notes and books kept in front of you.

"How could this bitch of a scientist ever think this could work?!" He heard you exasperate before wishing you luck and walking to his room.

The camera shifted from the lounge to the library where Loki sat engrossed in a book only he knew the theme of. Mainly because it was a hardback with nothing but the blackness of the fabric covering it.

I know! I know! This is finals week and I could not possibly let Y/N have any distractions but that doesn't mean Loki can't be distracted?

The camera shifted from a very engrossed Loki- who didn't so much as flip when Clint walked by, calling him all sorts of names, or when Stark quite literally peeped into the library, telling Rhodey to let Loki just sit there and maybe bring him some snacks and let world rest in peace till that book lasts- to a very curious Peter by the library door.

Scott: *concerned* But looking at the way Y/N looks like right now, the only way she's going to distract Loki is with the exam stench coming from her. *very concerned*

Scott sat by the kitchenette and watched as Tony brought you a cup of coffee to keep by your side.

"I can't drink coffee," you mumble, scratching your head with your pencil, "it does something to my heartbeat."

And without any word, Tony took away the coffee to the kitchenette, dumped it in the sink and made a jug full of iced tea with lemon and mint and placed the jug and glass at your table, pouring one for you.

"Thank you," you muttered, scratching your face this time.

"You better study hard or I'll cut your phone time," he announced.

Tony stood there, shifting his weight on his legs before walking out of the room. Your eyes followed him, your smile growing bigger with every passing second at the sweetest little gesture before gulping down the glass of iced tea and feeling drained power return to you while Scott followed Tony, all the while saying, “You know I could’ve had that coffee.”

 The Next Day

Scott: Okay, so I may have done a little something today. And by something I mean I took advantage of Y/N's sullen mood because she doesn't know how her first exam went.

The scene shifted to you sitting in the library this time, a soft playlist on as you sifted through your notes while sitting in your PJs at three in the afternoon.

Oh yeah! I told her library would be so much better to work in. No distractions. *chuckles*

Scott, proud of himself, walked out into the lounge to have all the pride drained from his face as he saw something he wasn't supposed to. "What are you doing here? You were supposed to be in the library!"

The camera swerved from his shocked face to look at Loki lounging in Tony's favourite seat, deeply engrossed in his book.

The God looked up from the pages, only to furrow his brows at Scott. "First the spiderling drags me out of the library saying it's better in the lounge and now you come out of nowhere to push me back in there. What is going on?"

Scott: Dammit! We should have synchronised! *flails his hands in defeat*

Peter: I know! *groans*

Scott: *turns to Peter* don't you have exams, mister?

Peter: *shrugs and droops* I finished all my revision when Aunt May grounded me for hanging out with Mr Brock.

Scott: Who?

Peter: *tired sigh* Venom.

Scott: Oh! OH! Ohh, kid. No.

Peter: I know *nods*

*silence*

Scott: Will she allow you to meet him under adult supervision?

Peter: *stares blankly at the camera before turning to Scott*

Both Scott and Peter give a knowing smirk to the camera before doing a fistbump.

 The Night Before the Last Exam

A soft wail like a note rising from a broken guitar rose from the library, forcing Loki and Peter to stop on their way to the roof to fly Peter's final science project.

Exchanging confusion building on their faces, they entered the space- with the camera following them right at their toes- to find out you slouching into your knees in a corner surrounded by scattered notes and books.

"Y/N?" Feather-like lightness left Loki's lung as he called out your name, "are you okay?"

You raised your head to show the audience the mess that was your face smeared with tears and snot along with the hair sticking in the waters of despair- only the strands that managed to not go wild over your head. "Umm-nna~ff~aal 'marro-"

Loki's brows furrowed at alien language you spoke.

"She said 'I'm gonna fail tomorrow'," Peter tried to help with the translation.

Peter: Of course, I know. I'm an expert in tear-translation. Thanks to all the A-holes who broke Aunt May's heart. *squints in anger at the camera* Especially you, Charles. *camera pans in* You are on my black-list. *forces out a low husky threatening voice* It is so black it can compete with vantablack. Oh, yes! That is exactly what I'm gonna do to you if I ever see you get out of Apartment 24, 75th block, Myrtle road.

"I've been trying to learn the observations and conclusions and their downsides but nothing is going inside my head," you sobbed, your eyes closing up and the tears running down thicker and faster than all the waterfalls you visited in your life.

Loki looked at you before shifting his gaze between Peter and his winged bot in his hands. Coming back to you, he gave you his hand. "Come with us," his words more of a command and less of a wish, "we're going to fly Peter's invention."

You looked at him with third-degree confusion crinkled between your brows, about to burst out but not doing so for the God's hand was still out for you. Waiting.

Peter took one- not so discreet- step towards you, breaking the silent conversation of whatever sort of understanding was going on between the two of you to hand you a tissue.

Wiping your tears, and clearing all nose blockage, you dunked the used tissue into the nearest waste bin before taking Loki's hand. Those long and slender fingers wrapped over the back of your palm, helping you up quite effortlessly- not to mention, gracefully.

The camera recorded the two of you walking out, going to the rooftop and testing out Peter's work. Just as time passed, both men could see the difference in you. By the end of the evening, you were laughing your heart out when Peter tried to explain Loki what was the urban meaning of the sentence 'Word'.

Loki was seen smiling as he watched you cackle without care.

Loki: Y/N has no idea how horrendous she looks when she laughs. *chuckles* her mouth open wide, her tongue on the edge of coming out to catch heaven-knows what while she tries to hold her stomach as if it's going to dash somewhere. *chuckles again* And to think that silly woman was worried about some unworthy test that's not even going to matter in the future. *shakes head and rolls his eyes*

Peter was enjoying watching the two, happy and content, playing with his science project when suddenly he felt his brows crinkle right when Loki and you are standing less than a foot together.

"No, dummy, that wire is the reason it is grounded," he heard you tell Loki, who looked at you with shock in his eyes.

"This dummy created a grounding spell when he was twelve. You better start to learn a thing or two about the God you live with, woman."

You looked up at your 'God' with a tilt. "Damn, son. No wonder you're so single with the ice you spit."

"Learn some better metaphors too," Loki quipped without even taking a breath, feeling a slight nudge in his torso as you punched him.

The crinkled brows turned into narrowed eyes looking at the camera.

Peter: Why have we even been trying so hard? *infuriating whisper*

 Next Day

"I did it! I *bleep* did it!" You stormed into the conference hall with the biggest grin slapped on your face, watching the grim faces of the Avengers turn to you and transform into the warmest smiles. Even some hoots and applause.

"That's my girl," Natasha declared, pulling a chair next to her for you to sit down, the smile never leaving her face till you planted your ass in the cosy leather.

"Oh, wait," you suddenly felt your body sit too straight for your comfort, "am I interrupting something?"

"You mean apart from your biological father going on and on about how incompetent everyone in this room is?" Loki added from where he sat, which was the far corner with a witch-hat that had dunce written over it. This did not seem to bother him for he looked two comfortable with his feet resting on another chair as he read a book- this time with a red hardcover. "No, not really."

"Dum-e," Stark's voice announced, making the robot squeak and stroll towards Loki before gassing him with an extinguisher.

You tried your best not to let the laugh escape your mouth.

"We are having a meeting regarding this latent threat. So, if you don't mind please walk out of the door where you came from," Tony ordered you, swinging his fingers towards the door before turning to look at the screen.

"Wait a minute," Scott nearly jumped off his seat, "that's it! Y/N can help us with the mission!"

A whole bunch of 'excuse me', 'wait what', 'you gotta be shitting me,' and 'do you want me to kill you's rose up around the table, definitely taking you by surprise.

"How could I possibly help in a mission?" you stressed the last part so Scott would know what he was talking about.

You: I can barely lie to myself about how much ice cream I’m gonna have in a day and Scott expects me to lie to professional liars and criminals? *raises his arms in disbelief* What?

"No, seriously, just hear me out," Scott stood and begged out loud, trying to calm everyone. "The target knows us all. He has seen our faces and one whiff of us near him and he'll disappear from here before we get a chance to retrieve the shiny thing."

"The pulsator," Steve helped Scott.

"Yes, that thing. Thanks, Cap. So Y/N can be our eyes and ears at the restaurant that we know he is definitely going to visit tonight with his wife, thanks to his crush on the bartender that works there. All she has to do is go there, enjoy and observe while Peter and I take care of the extraction."

"Why can't you two be the eyes and the extraction?" Pietro asked the most obvious question.

"What we if he sees this and develops a crush on me?" Scott pointed out at his bod while Peter pointed at him with a 'true fact' expression.

"Y/N is not going and that's the end of the discussion," Tony declared. Or at least tried to.

"I agree with Scott on this one," Natasha broke the low buzz, nearly giving Tony a stroke. "But," she raised a finger while sitting up straight, stopping whatever dad-rage was about to come out from his mouth, "I'd rather ask Y/N if she'd be open to the idea of doing it."

That's it. All pair of eyes were on you now. Especially Tony's trying to wear you down.

Y/N: And I thought studying basic psychology was mental murder.

"Oh, I'm in," you simply shrugged, taking away twenty years from Tony's life. "Just give me a test run before you send me out in the field."

"You're grounded," Tony announced, making you furrow your brows at him with a layer of pure judgment.

"Oh come on, Tony," Steve smirked, "she's your daughter after all."

"She is not going in there. Not alone at least."

"Loki can go with her," Scott added without skipping a beat, getting the God's attention. "They can uhh...they can play it like they're on a date!"

Clint: *twists his jaw* *narrows eyes* Is this another one of those bets or is Scott just trying to get on my nerves?

Tony: *gazes right into the camera* Right now I am searching ten thousand ways to slowly murder an ant. *taps the phone without looking at it* *phone chimes* *still stares at the camera* Oh look! It says suffocate them in their sleep.

"I'm extremely interested in knowing why Loki and why not Pietro or Wanda?" Tony was genuinely curious, never seeing the coherent groans and shaking heads that filled the room. Even you stretched the corner of your lips and gestured him to cut the topic.

"Pietro had a crush on a Y/N. Y/N didn't like him. I knew all of that the entire time." Wanda practically picked up the baggage and threw it smack into Tony's face."

Tony: *shocked eyes looking at a distant void* Suddenly I feel Pepper saw what I could never see. And to think *pause* all this time I was worried about frat houses.

Pepper: Oh! Don't put this on this me! *raises her hands in question with crinkled brows* I was worried about her staying with people sharing three brain cells that are solely made for fighting. And those brain cells belong to Natasha, Wanda and Steve. *nods* Probably.

He gave Pietro a 'the audacity of this bitch' look. "You know what, I'll go with Y/N," he finally concluded. According to him.

"Tony, stop being such a whiner," Natasha broke the wave of authority Tony clearly was riding on, justly, "Y/N is an adult who can act her age during the mission and that's all we want her to do. We will obviously be standing by in case anything goes wrong. Loki will be going with her because thanks to you and Fury no one has any shred of evidence of his existence now. No one would even look at them twice while you have a tendency to be a magnet in the crowd."

Loki: She's wrong. *scoffs* *nods his head in his defence* clearly she doesn't know how many heads have turned to look at me twice when I twisted them off their shoulders. *smiles contently*

*camera pans out to show Natasha sitting with him, looking at the God with a judgy brow*

Natasha: Only you could interpret that phrase in such a way. *pauses before breaking into a sly smile* I respect that.

Everyone could feel how hard Tony was trying to refrain from breaking his own jaw by the veins showing all over his face and neck. "I'll be keeping an eye on them."

"No," Steve and Natasha blurted in unison. "You are staying out of this one before you start making it personal," the black widow, announced.

"I'll be fine, Mr Stark!" you stressed, "Loki'll be with me all the time."

Tony: *nearly breaking the glass with his voice* “flailing his hands wildly* THAT'S EXACTLY THE *BLEEP* SHIT THAT I'M WORRIED ABOUT!!!

"That's if he's okay with it," you interrupted yourself, turning to Loki- forcing others to look at him too- to find out his thoughts.

Loki: *counting on his fingers one by one* Going on a covert mission, getting out of this godforsaken place, getting the chance to finally at least punch someone in the face, *faces with camera with innocent wonderment* all the while getting to piss off Stark and Barton because I will be with the former's daughter? *slowly wrecks up the evilest grin* Well, isn't that a ball!

Tony: *his hand on his heart* Friday! Check my vitals! *turns back to camera* I can feel him scheming right this second. *turns his gaze away to the door* there is no way I'm leaving my daughter alone with him.

*camera pans out to a very calm and very pregnant Pepper reading something*

Pepper: *clicks tongue, still engrossed in her Tycoon magazine* Sweetie he's alone with your daughter practically every time you aren't in the room.

Tony: *eyes go white while he turns seven shades whiter before looking at his wife* What, are you trying to kill me?

Pepper: *still doesn't look up* oh, get over yourself.

 Mission Night

"Everyone check your comms," Natasha's voice crackled in Steve's ears, who was dressed rather casually for himself in a black leather jacket over a white shirt and blue jeans. Wanda, on the other hand, was all black, laid back in her seat inside the surveillance van.

Wanda: *smiling* Ooooh! Someone's dressed to hold hands!! *giggles*

"Is the Raven and kitten ready?" Steve asked in the comms.

The click of the door turned the camera to show Natasha stepping in. "They're ready," she announced before checking Steve out. "Oh!" she whistled, "looks like someone is buying a lady some Virgin Mojito tonight."

Steve crinkled his brows before realising what was going on.

"Really?" he flatly spewed at Nat.

"And then maybe ask her if he could get her a cab since she didn't have a car," Wanda added matter-of-factly.

"Oh, yes," Nat continued, sitting down on the empty chair, "and then leaving her at the front of her house and telling her to lock all the doors and windows because ‘this ain’t the good neighbourhood ma’am’, giving her a salute and walking away."

Giggles burst out through Wanda while Steve twisted his jaw and rolled his eyes at his ladies.

"Shut up," he simply cut, looking at nothing in particular in the screen in front of him.

"Okay, but why am I the kitten? Kitten?! Really?" your voice broke through the comms, making the captain smile eventually.

"'Cause you are cute but dangerous," Nat spoke with a motherly intent. "Now go get those bad guys for us." And just like that, she switched her warm tone to a freezing one, "Loki."

"Icy," Loki's voice commented monotonously before clearing his throat, "Are you sure you want me to go in, Captain?"

He almost brought the worry lines over Steve's forehead. "I might kill a few men, women and allies with just my looks."

A crssh and crash followed by barely audible curse echoed through the comms.

"Did he crash into a bin?" Steve whispered to Nat, who shook her head. “Must be our extraction guys. Wait, is Tony listening into this?”

"Scott, Peter. What's your twenty?" Steve posed the question.

"Yeah, sorry," Scott answered, "I think that was me. We're in position. Playing the best servers at the minimum wage we're being paid."

"He's here," Steve announced it more for himself, "all right. Positions, everybody. Y/N, Loki...go."

.

*The cameras planted inside the restaurant captured everything in HD because Tony wouldn't want anything less than a 4k resolution for watching bad guys being taken down by his team*

The subtle light bouncing off the bricked walls inside the restaurant gave it a quaint touch, something way too sophisticated and warm for what they were about to witness.

The speakers playing soft jazz crackled without a warning to softly go 'la la la' before breaking into the heavy beats accompanied by the two figures entering the space.

And suddenly, everything went slow.

*When I popped off then your girl gave me just a little bit of lockjaw

Baby so cold, he from the north, he from the Canada

Bankroll so low I got nothing else that I can withdraw

Ran out the door*

Loki entered the space in his most casual yet somehow scintillating apparel of a black henley hugging him, showing away the muscles no one thought he had.

The cameras caught Wanda and Natasha's brows going up as they leaned in- quite in sync- towards the screens to see the perfect cuts on his biceps that were teasing every looker. Steve really had to look at them twice to believe they were looking at Loki in a new light. Now that henley would have been enough, but the black jeans perfectly curving his toned ass really added to the mix, making both the red-heads turn to eye each other and give a knowing smile, all the while Steve pressed his lips, sighed and let his head drop.

*I shine my wrist it go like shashasha, shashasha

I got your bitch singing like lalala, lalala*

You walked by Loki's side, the camera panned in on you to show your thigh-high sundress painted in yellow flowers drowning in red, your legs exposed to lights, soaking them in, your arm locked in Loki's while the other one let your hair fly free.

Eyes flew towards the two of you- well, mostly Loki- as glasses tipped, spoons clattered, women forgot to breathe, men bonked themselves into walls and the allies drowned in that dapper energy the God just threw off like breathing out carbon dioxide.

*I shine my wrist it go like shashasha, shashasha

I got your bitch singing like lalala, lalala

How I stride like that?*

The music suddenly died, the cameras panning in on Peter standing by the audio controls in one corner while Scott stood next to him with the plug in his hand. "He deserves better than that. They deserve better than that," Scott stressed in a whisper to Peter, who was still stunned by the intro song cut short, "not that this wasn't...kewl."

 Peter raised his brows at Scott. "Kewl? Really? Kewl? That's how you think the youngsters talk?"

The manager walked by glaring at the two dressed as servers. Scott giving him a 'hey how ya doin' smile.

Scott shushed him to see what Loki and you were doing.

The God was clearly basking in the attention he was getting. You, on the other hand, seemed...

You: Of course, I love attention. Who doesn't? *smiles before licking her lips and feeling that smile disappear* Who doesn't love it when people keep staring at you to question if you have something on your face? *smiles again, but this time it's forced* But then it turns out it's just your face!

"Wow," you muttered as you sat down by Loki's side, the camera panning over to your target right behind you- a man in a blue suit, clean-cut beard and soft blonde hair going back- showing the close proximity in which you were sitting, "people are really not buying we could be together."

Loki settled beside you, looking at you in some deep thought before asking, "Would you like to sell it?" You shrugged. "Sure. I always wanted to be an actor," you whispered, leaning in close and touching his chin with your finger, making Loki smirk devilishly. The camera did not miss the woman and man sitting at two separate tables looking at the two of you with such intensity- and quite possibly, jealousy. While the man practically stabbed the table with his fork, the woman cracked the glass of champagne in her hand.

Loki- it seemed- could see everything going around him without even seeing. "Well, Miss Girlfriend," he sang softly, leaning closer to you, his cold breath tickling the hairs on your face, "you seem to be getting a lot of negative attention just by breathing right next to me."

"Hmm," you tilted your head and hummed, taking a swig of water without increasing the distance, "I can surely feel their stare on my back, boyfriend. They are willing to kill me just to get a whiff of you."

"Well, why don't we give them more reason to spell murder on their hands?" he spoke softly before extending his arm behind you, wrapping you in his side.

"Comfy?" he asked. You nodded, trying to suppress a smile. "Smooth raven," you muttered.

A thwack was heard followed by Loki cursing under his breath as he retrieved his arm from behind you for both of you to watch the back of his hand go through a light bruise before quickly disappearing.

"Oh, I am sorry, mister," an old man with a grey beard, fine lines and judgy eyes, dressed in a funky beach shirt and jeans. "I thought you were trying to strangle this beautiful dame."

"No, he wasn't?" you shook your head in confusion at the old man.

Old man: *looking directly at the camera* *in his authoritative old man voice* that's what all men want you to think. *camera starts panning in* don't zoom on my face *stops and slowly pans out*

"Okay, kitten," Natasha's voice crackled through the comms, "the ant and the spider are approaching the target."

You turned towards the man in question, observing him for a good second before turning to the woman sitting with him. "That is one stunning piece of jewellery you have there."

The woman turned to watch your gaze right at her sapphire bracelet. "Why, thank you! My husband bought it from me," she cooed, looking at their target.

"Too bad my darling isn't amused by stones," Loki chimed in, shifting his hand over yours before grazing it softly and letting your fingers intertwine, "otherwise I would have gotten her something...out of this world. Something worth...infinity and beyond."

You: *evidently not being able to breathe* *licks her lips* *tries to talk normally but all that comes out is a whisper* damn! He's a pro!

 Scott: Is it just me or does Loki look effortlessly hot tonight? *turns to watch Loki planted casually in his seat, leaning towards your ear to say something that makes you smile so wide that you have to bite down on your lips* *camera pans out to show Scott glowing* So hot! *creases brows* Of course, full homo! Even Hope knows that.

"Your wife is a very lucky woman," the man finally spoke, taking you by surprise.

"Son of a beee-" a staggering shout came from behind your table. Both you and Loki- along with your target and his company- turned to see the same old man making quite the ruckus, pausing only when he realised all eyes were on him and pointing to the stage.

The piano and trumpet introduced a beat and in came a man in full leather on the stage with his back to the audience, the microphone on ready.

I went down to the river and lost my mind

I said Lord won't you save me just one last time

Thought I told ya'

I was looking for a sign

"Wait, I know that voice," you uttered loud enough for only Loki to hear.

"Son of a-" Nat's voice crackled over the comms before the lights shone about the slick face of Clint Barton swinging and singing on the stage all the while glaring at Loki with a death stare, almost hissing the song through his teeth.

Had it once wonder if I would get it twice

Peace of mind only comes in the afterlife

Thought I told ya'

I was looking for a sign

"Oh," Loki rolled his eyes, "you have got to be joking. Romanoff!"

"Ignore him," Steve ordered, "eyes on the prize. Y/N."

You got up just when Peter the server was 'passing by', to collide with him and have your dress ruined by whatever liquid he was carrying.

Like any villainous gentleman, Mr Target got up and offered his handkerchief to you, asking you if you were okay. Mrs Target, just as quickly she'd gotten jealous, felt sparks when Loki took her hand in assurance.

"It's all right," Loki reassured her, "I'll take care of her."

The woman was growing ten shades of red as she watched Loki give her his signature smile, making her melt right there.

What neither part of the target couple caught was Scott taking advantage of the dim light, you and Loki to swap the man's phone and wallet, hiding it no-one-knows where.

.

The Red Velvet Van

"I got it! I got it!" Scott barged into the van wheezing.

Nat took the phone from him, already cloning it. "You look like you ran a marathon."

"Yeah," Scott huffed, standing straight finally, "my manager's gonna fire me any second so...woah! Do you have a date tonight, Cap? Gonna hang out at a diner? Grab some shakes and do the twist?"

Wanda did a really loud ‘ha-haaa’ while Nat just gave Steve an 'I told you so' look.

"Here, take it back and keep an eye on Clint," Natasha ordered Scott, getting a salute in return before the van's door closed behind him.

.

Inside the Restaurant

The old man too had joined the little mayhem caused on Mr Target's table, accidentally smacking his hand when he tried to grab your arm and ask you if you were okay.

"Hey grandpa," Mr Target nearly shouted in the old man's face, "are you blind?"

The old man looked at him with subjective eyes before muttering, "Not yet, no. I can still see your wife trying to flirt with her friend."

You and Target turned to watch Mrs Target laughing out loud while grabbing Loki's arm every chance she got.

"Babe," you raised your voice just enough for Loki to hear you over Clint's aggressively teasing music, "I'll go to the washroom to clean this out."

The camera caught Scott coming back, smoothly keeping the phone on the table before grabbing the old man. "Let me help you back to your seat, sir," he stressed, nearly running into Loki's back, pushing him into you.

Loki grabbed you by the waist in order to not fall over you- neither of you noticed the shriek that left Clint and the bewildered 'what? WHAT?!' that left the old man- wrapping his other arm around your upper back.

"You want me to come with you?" he asked rather seriously.

"No, I'm good," you assured him with a nod and a smile, all the while the camera capturing the hesitant jealousy steaming up inside Mrs Target as she watched the two of you get so intimate.

Loki let his hand drop from your back to take your hand in his, never losing his eye contact with you. Bringing your hand closer to his lips, he planted a light kiss on the back of your hand. "Come back fast," he requested ever so softly, leaving you without words for a few seconds before you remembered how to blink.

Neither of you noticed Clint's 'son-of-b****' off the mic as he jumped off the stage, walking towards the two of you before being carried away but a young brunette boy soothing him with a 'there, there. Shhh, let's go outside and shoot some arrows, okay? Yes, the spider is clearly stronger than the hawk tonight."

.

The Lounge

"We got the location of that Pandora's box Pulsator. Friday is checking out the geography of the location where it's stacked. Vision said he'll pick it up on his way back from another mission."

"Wait," Sam interrupted Natasha, stopping in his swivel chair with a dramatic pause, "when did Vision go on a mission?"

Peter arched his brow before leaning towards Scott. "Can you say that fast? When did Vision go on a mission?"

And so began the whispering battle of saying the phrase as fast as possible.

"Last night," Wanda joined the conversation, "he wanted to get some special paprika," she ended with a knowing smile, clearly meant for the boys to stop talking and start smiling.

"Dayum," Sam stressed with his little high pitched voice, "that AI is finally getting the hang of it, isn't he?"

"Speaking of getting the hang of it," you spoke from the couch, sprawled on it lazily while Loki sat on the floor, curiously looking at Peter trying to teach him, Steve and Bucky how to play Cards Against Humanity, "somebody looked like they were ready to take their first date to second base."

Steve looked up to watch every set of eyes looking at him with a devilish smile.

"Sure, if by second base you mean eating greasy burgers at a hilltop and talking about how expensive the nearest city is," Clint added as he entered the lounge.

"Says the man who kept being a cockblocker the entire night," Steve did not even miss a beat, leaving everyone to gasp and shriek senseless.

Sam: *Bucky and Peter sitting next to him* I don't know whether to hoot for that comment Clint throw or shriek at Steve throwing a f*****g perfect comeback.

Bucky: *guffaws* I'm just surprised he knows what cockblock means!

Peter: I know!!!! *laughs*

Sam: *looks at Peter in confusion and laughs at him*

Bucky: *pauses mid-laugh* *tilts his head to look at some invisible void, his face still plastered with that paused laugh*

Sam: *looking at Bucky* you don't know it either, do ya?

Bucky: *without missing a beat* Nope.

"What?" Clint nonchalantly poured himself some whiskey, "I was a distraction. Or should I say...main attraction," he grinned at the eyes rolling at him.

"Hey, great job tonight, Y/N," Natasha scruffled your hair, gathering affirmed 'yeah's through the lounge.

"Thanks, guys. It wasn't much though. All I had to do was...be there."

"Cool," Nat smiled at you before morphing her face into a serious one, "now tell me honestly. Did he do anything inappropriate with you? 'Cause I'll drive to his place and break his bones right now if he did."

"Wow, no, thank you so much, Nat. I really appreciate it. But no, he didn't do anything. Loki was there with the whole time. He was a good distraction for our bi target."

Scott: *suggestively sings* Distraction? Or should I say 'Main Attraction'! *arches his brows repetitively while smiling hella wide*

"All right, now you off you go," Nat patted you on your back, forcing you to get up and walk towards the dorms, "go get some sleep and remove all the tiredness from your exam week."

You went off to the dorms while the rest of the gang sat down on the floor to play Cards Against Humanity.

"Javier," Nat pointed at the boy behind the camera, "come with me for a sec."

Both of them got inside the elevator, rode to the first underground level and got out to walk into the direction where the overhead dim lights led them.

"Sir, you have company," the duo heard from across the glass wall where Tony sat amidst an ocean of holograms of information.

Nat clicked the door open to let the camera see Tony swipe away everything with a wave of his hand.

"Hey, you're not allowed here," Tony said, not looking at Nat or camera. "This is my holy ground. So, off you go."

"Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just gathering evidence. Next time wear a better disguise," Nat dropped the bomb on Tony, who sat there puckering his lips at the air for what could be said was a considerably long while for Tony Stark.

"I was gonna go for something Sherlock-y but Pepper says I get very method and it destroys the mood," he finally spoke.

"She's old enough to take care of herself, Tony. Not to mention she had me looking out for her all the time," Nat had her arms crossed across her chest now.

"Why is Javier here?" he looked behind the camera.

"Like I said, gathering evidence to blackmail you in the future. She is just starting to get to know you, Tony. Do you really want to sabotage the father-daughter relationship even before it begins?"

Silence falls over the wide space that is broken only by Dum-e's whirring as he looks between Nat and Tony before turning towards the camera.

"I just want to protect her, Nat," Tony sighed, dropping his hands on his lap. "I just want to protect her from all the bad in this world. And you know why."

"I know," she replied softly before sitting down next to him, "but that doesn't mean you won't let her experience anything out of your comfort zone. And Loki is not bad. You know this better. You travelled to space and met some really weird creatures."

"That's true actually."

"Give him a chance too. He's done nothing yet that would tell us otherwise. And if he ever would, I have stacked up on that alien juice in my poison dart for a reason."

"Sometimes I truly wonder why do you hang out with Rogers. He doesn't deserve a friend like you."

Natasha chuckled and got up.

"Yeah, yeah. Steve tells me the same about you," she commented as she walked away, signalling Javier to follow her.

"Find that old man a date, Nat."

"Go back to your wife, Tony. You need to sleep."

"Right."

.

"For the last time, Peter, the Leaning Tower of Pisa isn’t an example of erectile dysfunction," Scott stressed as him, Peter and Loki walked back to the dorms with their respective cups of hot tea.

"Is this another one of your meme things?" Loki asked.

Before Peter could answer, your door opened and you came out devoid of makeup, your hair tied up- still messy- dressed in your overused shirt and shorts.

"Oh, yes!" you whispered in content, taking Loki's mug from his hand to blow on it before taking a careful swig.

"Hey," Loki ordered, "that's mine!"

"But what's yours is mine, fake boyfriend," you sang ever so innocently, never catching the fistbump that happened behind Scott and Peter's back.

Loki looked at you with furrowed brows before arching his good brow at you. "Oh, if that's the case then you're mine, fake girlfriend."

You looked at him for a moment before going 'cool'. "I've got two assignments, one mini project for the break and three appointments to make. Do them by the end of the day tomorrow since I am all yours, fake darling," you suggested, taking another swig.

Loki opened his mouth to speak something to shut you up and get your cup back while simultaneously you got on your toes, turned to his one side and planted a light kiss on his cheek.

"Good night fake babe," you signed off softly, giving him back his cup and walking back into your room, leaving Scott and Peter more notably befuddled that Loki.

Scott: *water at the edge in his eyes* *whispers* this is it. Peter, this is it.

Peter: *nods at Scott and turns to the camera* *whimpers* why is this so much better than a Disney movie?

Scott: *sniffles* Because it ain't canon. It's real life baby!

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Void of Extinction by GleefullyCaptainSwan Chapter 9/9

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9

Or on FF

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Notes:

I can't believe this is the end of another story! I truly hope you enjoyed this odd little world I put them in. It was a joy to write something different and share it with all of you. I want to thank my husband for supporting me in all of this weirdness I write about and helping me with the creativity process.

Chapter 9: Merlin

Killian felt like shards of ice had punctured his chest the moment he breached the water, desperately reaching into the depths for anything he could touch. The water was dark, his eyes could barely see in front of him as he swam through the current.

Ahead of him a flash of white tumbled before him, he reached out, his fingers clutching for anything he could grab onto. He yanked the material closer to him only to find the blanket empty. He released it, diving deeper until he saw him sinking below him.

He desperately reached out, grabbing the boy, and pressing him to his chest, he waved his other arm to propel him back to the surface. As soon as he breached the water, he looked down at the infant’s ashen face, his eyes closed, his body unmoving.

He climbed onto the metal landing, the child in his arms. “You just won’t fucking give up, will you?” He looked up to see Neal standing a few feet away, a dagger digging into the side of his captor.

Emma.

He looked down at the boy in his arms, his son. Henry. He wasn’t breathing, lying almost peacefully at his side.

“Don’t move.”

Killian ignored the order, instead lying the boy on his back on the ground, rubbing his palm against the boy’s chest.

“I said don’t move.”

“Sod off.” Killian yelled.

“I’ll kill her.” He growled and he heard Emma squeal in pain, causing his hands to freeze as he looked up to see the blood on the dagger, a cut against Emma’s neck.

“You hurt her, and I swear to you Neal, I will kill you.” He said angrily.

“Save Henry.” Emma shrilled as Neal yanked her against him. She didn’t need to ask him twice, he continued his work on the boy, desperate to hear his cry again.

Killian breathed into the boy, sending all of his care and devotion for the child into his lungs.

Breathe, please breathe.

He could hear Emma’s sobs across the room, further away than they had been previously, his eyes were watching the tiny boy laying lifeless in front of him. He pressed his mouth against him once more, breathing as his heart pounded. “Please, Henry…”

A soft sputter caused his eyes to open as he looked down at the boy, his eyes suddenly open. Killian tilted the boy to his side allowing the water to flow from his mouth as the boy started to cry weakly. “Come now lad, get it all out.” The child squirmed uncomfortably in his wet clothing and Killian cradled the boy against his chest, looking up to reassure Emma only to find her gone.

Ruby came rushing into the room with David hot on her heels, covered in a dark ooze. “I don’t ever want to see what one of those things looks like from the inside ever again.” He complained. When they saw Killian they both ran forward.

“What happened? Are you ok? Is Henry….” Ruby asked without waiting for any response as she looked around. “Where’s Emma?”

Killian pressed his lips to the boy’s forehead and handed him to the woman. “Look after him. I need to go after Emma, Neal has her.” Ruby took the boy and David followed him as they both rushed toward the pier on the other side of the large opening.

“What happened to you, Mate?” He asked as David got closer and the stench of whatever remained on him reached his nose.

“Regina.” He said disgusted. “Or whatever the hell that thing was that looked like her.”

“Up there.” Killian pointed, as two figures moved in the fog. “That has to be them.”

“Be careful.” David warned as they rushed forward.

They approached the end of the dock just as he heard Emma’s angry voice. “If anything happened to my son, I swear to God Neal…” She screeched in pain.

“I said stop fucking talking, dammit why do you always have to talk.” Neal growled. Killian leapt onto the boat, landing with a dull thud. “Is that you lover boy?” He heard Neal taunt from the front of the vessel.

Killian stilled his movement, crouching behind the open door to the bridge.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are.” Neal sang.

Killian waited in his spot as the man’s footsteps approached. “How’s that bastard kid doing?” He sneered just as Killian rushed forward from his spot, colliding with Neal’s body as they crashed to the deck.

Rolling on the ground, he grabbed the man by the collar, smashing his head toward the wooden planks. Neal kicked his feet, catching Killian off guard as he was pushed toward the wall. Killian grasped for the man’s arm that held the blade, lunging forward and sinking his teeth into the skin at his wrist causing the man to release his hold on the blade and dropping it to the ground with a thud.

The man’s eyes widened, the fear of losing the upper hand overtaking him as Killian’s fist landed punch after punch against the man’s face. “Stay down.” His voice growled in a tone that he didn’t recognize as his own. The man beneath him had tried to take away everything he loved, Emma, Henry, who he was. He had tried to destroy everything simply for power.

“You’ll never win.” The man taunted. “My father will destroy you all.”

Killian stilled, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him toward him. “We’ve already won.” He smirked. “You’re over. You’re nothing.”

Killian pulled the man to his feet, yanking him toward the front of the boat to find Emma. She was tied to the mast, tears pouring from her face. “Killian.” She cried, hope seeping through her desperation.

“Isn’t this heartwarming…” Neal started beside him.

“Would you bloody shut up.” He hissed and Neal smiled.

“You really think you can just move on now? This town is doomed. The plague will spread and destroy you all.”

Killian turned and punched the man square in the jaw, sending him spiraling backward against the wooden planks. Killian turned back to Emma, untying her hands, and pulling her into his arms. “Henry?” She pleaded.

“He’s with Ruby, he’s alright.” She sighed and closed her eyes, tears still falling against her cheek.

“I thought I had lost you both.”

“Haven’t I already told you love, I’m a survivor. It appears the lad gets that from me.” She laughed against his chest, leaning heavily against him. “Come now, let’s get back to our boy.” She leaned back and looked at him, a smile on her lips.

“Our boy. I like that.”

“Aye, me too.”

She started to walk away before her eyes got wide. “Killian…”

Before he could turn he felt pain in his shoulder, turning to see the end of a dagger and Neal’s face in view. He shieled Emma, taking the brunt of Neal’s body as the man crashed into him, slamming them against the wooden mast. Killian kicked with his feet to bring him crashing to the ground as he reached behind him, yanking the blade from his skin with a haunting howl.

He brandished the weapon in front of him as Neal stood once more, dancing from one foot to the other. Suddenly there was a crash as Emma sent a crate smashing against Neal’s body and he turned with a murderous glare at the woman on the other side of the boat. Killian watched in horror as he advanced on the woman he loved, a fist catching her across the face and Killian rushed forward, the blade in his hand.

Neal was on top of Emma, his hand pulled back to strike another blow when Killian plunged the dagger into the man’s back causing him to arch into him, a scream leaving his lips. Killian pulled him backwards, away from Emma and onto the decking. His eyes were open, staring at the fog lit moon, but there was nothing beneath his pupils. Blood was dripping from the sides of his open mouth. Neal was dead.

“No! My son!” A shot rang out causing Emma and Killian to freeze in place, the ricochet of the bullet sparking just at their feet. Shadows exiting the fog approached as Mr. Gold drug a limping David beside him. “You killed my son, you stupid bastard.”

“I’m sorry…” David began as he got closer, but Killian brushed off his guilt, it was not his fault that these men were here.

“You will all pay for this. This town is doomed, all of its people will beg me to save them.” He raised his gun toward Emma and Killian stepped in front of her, his arms pulling her back behind him as he closed his eyes and waited for death to come.

A shot rang out and he clenched his fist against the fabric of Emma’s jacket, but when the pain didn’t come his eyes sprang open. Mr. Gold lay at his feet, red spreading across his back.

“You must be Emma Swan.” The man approached the boat, a gun smoldering in his grasp.

Emma stepped out from beside him, cautiously glancing in his direction. “Who are you?”

“Why dear child, I’m Merlin, I believe you summoned me, did you not?”

~*~

Emma paced the room as she waited. “It’s been hours.” She complained as Ruby looked on nervously. “Shouldn’t we have heard something by now.”

“It takes time.” Killian reassured from his seat in the corner. “We don’t even know if it’s going to work yet.”

Emma groaned in frustration and David stood to place his hand on her shoulder. “Whatever happens, she’s very proud of how you fought for this.” Emma smiled at him, an offer of reassurance that she appreciated his words, but so much was riding on this experiment.

It had only been 12 hours since Merlin arrived outside the walls of Storybrooke, saving them from Mr. Gold and bringing their group back inside to the laboratory held within the bowels of their underground headquarters. If Henry’s blood could be used to cure J2, his people would be able to use it to save Mary Margaret and Will.

If.

The word stuck in the roof of her mouth as she ran over the events in her head. They had no idea if the fact that Emma and Killian had both survived the plague, meant anything for their son’s chances at having what they needed to cure it from their world. It could be a game changer, but it was a dangerous vision.

Henry had given The Resistance something they had been seeking since they began.

Hope.

And Emma dreaded what would happen if that tiny piece of sunshine turned out to be nothing. Just a light that burned out before it could destroy the darkness.

The doors opened behind her, and Merlin stepped into the room.

“The boy is remarkable, truly a bundle of joy.”

“Did it work?”

He laughed. “It’s too early to tell. His blood does show signs of reducing the cells in the J2 variant, we won’t know more until tests can be done back in Camelot, but…” He turned toward David. “Your wife was insistent that we test it on her. As was the stubborn man that accompanies her in that room.”

Emma laughed at the mention of Will, her indeed stubborn friend.

“When will we know something?” David asked.

“In a few hours, we will retest, determine if there has been any change in their situation. You should all get some sleep; we will wake you in the morning.”

“What about Henry?” Killian asked anxiously.

“Ah the boy, yes, he was quite tired, you are free to retrieve him from our nurse.”

Emma grasped Killian’s hand and drug him past the group into the wing behind him, searching for their son. Her heart sped up as they reached his room, stopping in front before it swung open, and the nurse met them at the door. “He will probably sleep most of the night.” She offered before wrapping him in a blanket and passing him to Emma.

Her smile grew when she gazed at the sleeping boy’s face, peaceful and unaware of the events he had just experienced. They returned to their room and Emma carried him to her bed, lying him down as she snuggled in beside him, not wanting to keep him from her sight for a moment. She felt the bed move as Killian flanked the child from the other side, his hand brushing the boy’s cheek.

She looked up and met his eye, a soft smile residing on his lips. “Survivor.” He whispered and Emma felt the tears release from her eyes.

“I’m never letting either of you go, ever again.” She cried.

“Aye love, you won’t need to.” He clasped her hand in his and rest it atop the small boy’s body.

“My boys.” She said softly, watching as Killian kissed their child’s forehead and then rest his against the pillow.

~*~

Killian chased Emma through the halls, cradling his son in his arms as he rushed after her. “God’s woman, he’s not going anywhere.” He joked, but she simply continued her pace until she reached the door.

She pushed through the door, entering the room with nervous anticipation.

“Will!” She said with a smile, seeing the man sitting up in his bed, a bandage around his waist but a smile on his face.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Emmie. Have you been sleeping alright?” He teased.

“You know damn well I haven’t.” She chuckled, wrapping her arms around his neck as she attacked him on the bed. Killian felt as if he were intruding on the moment, his eyes focusing on his son instead, the soft smile of the child staring up at him.

“I’m fine, woman. You can stop inspecting me.” Will complained and Killian couldn’t hold in his laughter. “Can’t you keep her occupied?” He snorted. “I expected the two of you to be still locked in a bedroom as you…Ow.” He winced as Emma pinched his bicep.

“’Fraid there was no keeping her from you, Mate.” He winked stepping closer to run his hand against Emma’s back.

“There he is.” He said with a smile as Henry was brought closer to him. “My hero.” He reached out and Killian lay his son in the man’s arms, stepping back to watch them. “Always knew you’d be special.” Will cooed to the giggling child.

“How are you feeling?” Emma asked.

“Like I could run a marathon.” He paused. “I’m not, because that sound bloody awful, but if I wanted to, I think I could.”

“Merlin’s team is working fast to prepare all the supplies. The Resistance teams are heading out into the foglands to deliver as many crates as they can.”

“How’s it feel to be the bonafide savior of Storybrooke?”

Emma laughed. “Stop. I didn’t do anything.”

“Emmie, you risked everything for this whole town, to get the truth out. That makes you a savior to a lot of people.”

Emma chuckled nervously. “You helped too.”

“Yeah, I did, didn’t I?” Will grinned widely. “And this one.” He gestured toward him. “Well, I guess he had somethin’ to do with it.”

“Thanks, Mate.” He said sarcastically.

“I mean besides making a baby that saved mankind.” He said with a shrug.

“William.” Emma slapped teasingly at her friend.

“How’s Mum?” The man asked of the woman who had taken them all in.

“She’s already up and about, working with Merlin to organize the destruction of the wall.” Killian responded, thinking of the way that the woman had refused to rest, immediately started planning and working to gather her troops to ensure that everyone was accounted for and ready to help.

“Yeah and all while you’ve been sleeping in this bed.” Emma smirked.

“Cheeky git.” Will swore.

After the wall came down, the town nervously reunited with loved ones who had been exiled beyond the wall, mourned those who never returned, and celebrated a cure to the disease that had caused so much destruction in its wake.

Remnants of the Hive, lost boys who followed Gold beyond his demise were slowly being brought in by the Storybrooke PD, Killian and David fought tirelessly to ensure the safety of the town and its people. Merlin remained long enough to ensure that they could rebuild on their own, returning to Camelot once the new Mayor had been elected.

“Have you seen Henry’s blue shirt?” Emma asked from the other side of the apartment. “I can’t find it.”

“Aye, it’s on the bed.”

She walked into the room with a flustered look on her face. “How did I miss it; I was just in here.”

He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into his lap. “Perhaps it’s time to take a break.”

She laughed. “You just want to make out with me.”

He bit his lip and his brow raised. “You’re not wrong, love.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she squirmed on his lap.

“I have to dress Henry.”

“Is the lad even awake yet?”

“Of course not, you know he sleeps like you. I need to wake him so that we can get ready to leave, otherwise we are definitely going to be late.”

“Mmm.” He grinned, brushing her hair from her neck. “While I do enjoy it when we’re late, I generally prefer the act of making you come on any occasion.” She blushed red.

“Killian.” She slapped playfully at his chest as he gripped her hips with his fingers, pulling her against him.

“Yes love?” He questioned with a smirk. “There are many ways I enjoy hearing my name fall from your lips, perhaps a tour of some of my favorites is in order.”

Her teeth nipped at his lips, a soft moan escaping her lips as she ground against his hips.

“Minx.” He teased, flipping them over on the bed as she giggled in excitement.

“Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Jones, it’s 9:30 am, pollution level 15%, you have an event at 10:30 am today.”

“Not now.” He groaned, lifting Emma’s shirt to expose the skin as her waist. “I have my own event to tend to right now.”

“We’re going to be late.”

He lifted his head, locking eyes with her. “Mrs. Jones, your body is like an expensive watch. He pushed the material at her waist further up her body, exposing her bare breast. He slid his hand against her flesh, pinching at her pert nipple. “A few twists here,” He pinched, and she moaned appreciatively. “A tweak there.” Her head fell back against the bed. “I know this body better than anything in the world, I’ll have you singing with time to spare.”

“Then why are you wasting so much of it.” She smirked.

Killian lowered his head, his hand roaming his wife’s body, worshiping between her legs until she screamed out his name, the satisfying smirk remaining on his face as he plunged himself inside of her, causing his name to fall from her lips over and over again in a way that he would never tire of.

“I told you we would be late.” She complained over an hour later as they arrived at the station.

“I’m not the one who insisted that we shower.” He grinned.

“Did we actually shower?” She teased.

“I seem to recall there was water. And a very enticing sexy vixen who was worshiping at my feet.”

“Stop that, we’re in public.” She blushed. “And he’s listening to everything you say.”

Killian stared at his son in his arms, the boy giggling and gurgling as he grasped Killian’s chin with his tiny fingers. “Aye, your mother is a marvel lad, very talented indeed, one day you’ll understand.” Killian said in a soft voice, almost singing at the young boy as the child grinned.

“Oh Lord, you’re impossible.” Emma said, rolling her eyes before she was wrapped up in strong arms as Will met her at the door.

“You’re late.”

“Blame him.” Emma thumbed toward him. “He needed a cold shower.”

“Cold and bracing.” He winked.

“I don’t believe either of you. Now get in here, it’s about to start.”

Killian followed them into the hall, nodding to David who was standing near his wife. The man smiled appreciatively as his wife was sworn in as the new mayor of Storybrooke. A large photo of Regina Mills hanging on the wall behind them.

“Our town has faced much darkness in the last few years, a time where hope was far from our sight. But we never gave up, we climbed back to the light, and now together, we face a strong and prosperous future. Regina Mills gave up her life in protection of this town, for her people, and today I am proud to continue that fight. Storybrooke stands today because of family, triumph, and love and I intend to ensure that it always will.”

The town erupted in cheers and Killian proudly stood by Emma’s side, his son in his arms, and hope in his heart.