#all these aus that go round and round in nightie's and my heads
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lordgrimwing · 7 months ago
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Fics Living Rent-free in my Mind Game
I was tagged by @runawaymun to talk about the stories/AUs I have loafing around inside my brain but haven't actually written any stories for yet (whether of not said stories made it to the light of day for others to see). You might notice a pattern with the kinds of things I think about but never write 😳. Also most of them are co-parented with Nightie.
Anyone can send me an ask about anything on this list and I will be happy to talk at great length about the insanity of what's in my head.
The Breeding AU - look, Elrond is a blurbo and the only way I got through my theriogenology class was by inflicting what I studied on blurbos... and sometimes I need an au where the elves are desperately trying to rebuild their population at the end of the 1st age.
Tiny Erestor AU - an au of the rarely talked about Tiny Elrond au (which I've written several stories for but haven't got around to posting yet), in which both Elrond and Erestor are two inches tall. Everyone else is normal sized.
Balrog Porno AU - Glorfindel, Turgon, and Ecthelion get hired to act in a high budget porn movie with balrogs. Ecthelion's the only professional actor of the three.
Gil-galad's stressed about being the king. what it says on the tin plus Elrond distracting him with being sexy and then they work together to create a government that doesn't needs a king so Gil can retire.
Art Therapy in Mandos, Feanor-style - Feanor, a box of crayons, a meditative coloring book, and nothing but time.
Stealthros AU - The Feanorians are dragons, the silmarils are eggs, and Elrond just hissed and bit Gil-galad's hand.
[edit, how did I forget!] Marsupial elves AU - everything's the same except the elves are marsupial and they all have pouches for their cute little kids to hang out in, oh and Celebrian, Elrond, and Gil-galad are together. Being part human and maia, Elrond doesn't have a pouch, a fact his children greatly resent.
Ask away!
here's some low pressure tags, and if you don't have fic ideas, how about just aus or art ideas? Tagging @nighttimepatrons, @curufiin, @aroace-moron
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luveline · 2 years ago
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For your kisses before dinner au, can I request a late night moment, not nsfw or anything just what their evenings are like? ty🧡
ty for ur request!! kisses before dinner ♡ pregnant!reader
You and Steve lie shoulder to shoulder in the dark. 
"You think they're sleeping?" you whisper. 
"I have no clue." 
You're both too terrified to move. Any noise at all risks waking up the girls. If you can avoid waking them up, there's a possibility that you and Steve might get some time alone. 
You have as many little ones as you do because you love them, everything about them, at all times of day. And sure, they exhaust you, but you wouldn't have had them if you couldn't handle it. If you couldn't manage the bad with the good.
You want to curl into a ball on top of him but the distension of your stomach makes it difficult. Baby bumps are made for homing and protection, they aren't super super fragile, but you've always been cautious and that isn't gonna change anytime soon. 
"I miss being able to lie on top of you," you confess. 
"You still could. Back to my chest," he offers. 
"Not the same." 
"If you loved me, you'd use me like a mattress topper." 
You fit together well when you're on top. Cheek to cheek, legs between his legs. Sometimes you hook a thigh up over one of his hips. It can't be comfortable for him and he's never complained, not once in all the years you've loved him. 
It's super Steve of him. He whines about all the wrong things. 
Case in point. "Are you gonna lie on me or am I dragging you?" 
"Can you? I'm too heavy." 
Steve scoffs. No matter what weight you are, pregnant or not, he insists that you're never 'too' anything. "Would you quit it?" 
"I don't want to lie on you like that. I miss being able to-" You shrug, tracing the barely illuminate line of his nose with loving eyes. "To cuddle like we're the same person." 
It's corny. Steve knows exactly what you mean. 
"We are the same person," he insists. He starts trying to turn your names into one, creating a hodgepodge of poorly strung syllables.
He has the unique ability to make you laugh at just about anything. He can get you giggling in the delivery room if he tries hard enough. 
You shift your arm where it's sandwiched so close to his and go searching for his outermost wrist, pulling it to your face for lazy kisses. His palm resting at your lips, you close your eyes and picture the face he's making. He's definitely turned his head to yours, giving you that "you're so crazy" expression he does, like he's startled you'd dote on him. 
"Wanna make out?" he asks. 
You're about to say yes when footsteps sound.
Steve eases up onto his elbow to kiss you sweetly, too quickly, before he takes the end of the blankets into his hand and pulls them over your heads. 
You know exactly who it is from the footsteps alone. Avery pushes open the door, and she sounds almost shy as she whispers, "Are you still awake?" 
"We're sleeping," Steve says back. You laugh as quietly as you're able to, tummy trembling under his hand with the motion. 
"I want to talk to you." 
That's not so funny. Steve moves the blankets back down. "About what, Avey-bear?" 
She's hard to make out in the dark, not with the light from the hallway at her back. You can see her hair, it's bed head frizz, and the ruffles of her nightie at her knees. 
"About anything." 
You snort. All your worry turns to amusement, and affection, and you make space between you and Steve immediately. You move too fast. 
"Be careful," Steve says to you softly, prompted by your little breathless sigh. Lately, your back has felt super sore, like somebody's taken to it with a meat tenderiser. 
"Come and sit with us," you tell Avery. 
She races around to your side and waits for you to pick her up. You would, of course, and you'd hug her to death as soon as she was in your arms, but you'd really hurt yourself somehow and you don't want to make it worse. 
"Come round to my side," Steve says. 
You smile at her unimpressed expression, "I can't move too much. Baby's kicking my spine." 
She gawps at you, tiny white teeth shining like pearls. "She's what?" 
It's important to note that you don't know the baby's gender. Avery says 'she' because her dad does. That, and it must make sense to her — Avery has felt the little kicking feet of two sisters before. It's sad, and silly, but for a split second you feel sorry that the only people who'd ever felt her kick were you and Steve. It had been one of the best (and then quickly one of the most agitating) feelings in the world. 
Avery, big sister extraordinaire, and biggest, bestest eldest daughter they ever made, climbs up onto the bed by herself and positions her face carefully over the hill of your baby bump. "You have to be nice," she whisper passionately, "you're hurting mom." 
You stroke her forehead. "Baby can't help it. She's growing." 
"You said 'she,'" Steve coos. 
"It's easier." You're not sure at all what the baby is. You have no premonitions. No inkling of one guess or another. 
"She," Steve says, "really can't help it Avery, but you're a good girl for trying to protect mom." 
"Thank you," you say, cupping her cheek. 
"You're welcome," she says. 
You're the kind of mom that some little kids can't abide — all you want, all the time, are hugs. You steal them at breakfast and lunch and dinner, in the car, in the garden, in the supermarket. You love to move in behind them and cuddle their unsuspecting shoulders. Lucky for you, they've all grown to return the same affection. Avery, amazingly careful of your stomach, crawls the rest of the way up the bed to the pillows and lays down curled toward you, pulling your arm to her chest for a hug. 
Steve moves onto his side and sidles up behind her. He moves his arm over your two bodies, his hand over your shoulder, his eyes glued to your face. 
"We've done this before," he murmurs. 
You and Steve and Avery and an unnamed baby. 
"Do you think your sisters are sleeping?" you ask. 
"Mm, Beth is snoring again," she complains. 
"Dove isn't this quiet when she's awake," Steve says. 
"Guess it's just you with us tonight, beautiful," you say, pulling the covers over Avery's shoulder. Swimming in bed sheets, she beams at you, really smiles, and her face seems like it's nearly too small to hold a happy that big. 
"What did you want to talk about?" you ask. 
"Everything." 
Steve closes his eyes and pushes his face into the back of her head. You wrap your arm over Avery to bracelet his arm with your fingers. If you're clinging too tight, he doesn't complain. 
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stuckysbike · 2 years ago
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I’ll Be Your Prize
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A/n: All mistakes are my own. Written on my phone.
Bucky x Reader
AU: Bucky is a boxer, and you have a surprise for him.
Warnings: filthy smut, slight angst, soft!Dom Bucky, anal sex, friends with benefits situation, idiots in love, presumed unrequited love.
The sound of the shower stopping caught your attention and you paused, listening for movement. After a few moments you went back to your phone, reexamining once again the pictures of you and Bucky posted on Instagram from earlier tonight.
Or last night, it was three hours past midnight now. Last night was the fight of Bucky’s career, and you had a front row seat to the ninth round knockout. Despite the beautiful women who had been crowding and flirting with him all night it was you he had chosen to take back to his luxury hotel suite.
You were reclining on the bed, body among the plush pillows when he stepped out of the bathroom. Water droplets were still clinging to his chest and disappearing below the towel slung low around his waist.
“Hey Champion,” you teased.
Bucky smirked at you, his eyes raking your body, appreciating the silky teddy you wore that enhanced your curves. “Are you my prize?”
You bit you lip, turning coy. “Yes sir,” you breathed.
Bucky’s smirk turned to a smouldering gaze and you squeezed your thighs together hoping to relieve some tension but you tingled even more. He licked his bottom lip as his eyes raked over you shamelessly. “Are you going to be my good girl?”
You nodded eagerly and he smiled. “Words Sugarplum,” he warned.
“Yessir,” you blinked at him.
His corded muscles bulged as he stalked towards you. Watching him earlier in the ring you saw not only his opponent flinch but the contingent of potential future challengers shifted uncomfortably too. Bucky was a force to be reckoned with, and now his attention was solely on you.
Fighters needed confidence and cockiness and Bucky had that in spades. He didn’t brag and postulate the way most others did, his quiet confidence was conveyed in an unnerving and unwavering stare.
Yes they would probably challenge him, convince themselves they could and would beat him, they would even give it their best shot but Bucky was steadfast, smart and swift despite his massive bulk.
As he dropped the towel you licked your lips, admiring his thick thighs and tapered hips. His hard leaking cock curved upwards and you thought about crawling forward and wrapping your lips around the tip but you had other plans tonight.
Bucky was in top form and despite the bruises and marks from the opponent on his body he was eager to claim his prize, and that prize was you.
“Will it fit?” You teased, keeping up with the little game.
Bucky nodded thoughtfully and tilted his head to the side to examine you, and you felt your cunt flutter again as he stalked closer.
The bed dipped as Bucky knelt on it, and one big hand curled around your ankle, thumb brushing the smooth skin as he followed your leg to where the satin rested on your thighs.
“So beautiful,” he murmured.
You preened at his praise, proud that you were the one in his bed, the one he wanted in his bed. Bucky was a popular man, a ladies man, and when he finally decided to settle down hearts would break; you just hoped your heart wasn’t one of them.
You pushed the tiny gnawing feeling away as Bucky settled over you, his mouth going straight to your neck. He kissed and marked your skin as you ran your palms down over his impressive pecs, pausing to scrape his nipples with your nails.
Bucky hissed in pleasure and rocked against you leaving a wet spot on your thigh. He moved to the other side of your neck, nipping the sensitive flesh and you moaned, your eyes rolling back in your head.
Long fingers played about with the hem of your nightie, his warm hand sliding over your soft belly. He used his teeth to tug the satin from your left breast then licked over your nipple. “Love these tits,” Bucky mumbled as he licked your nipple then drew it into his mouth.
His hands played under your satin nightie and thick fingers explored your soaked pussy, parting your lips and brushing your sensitive clit.
“Bucky, feels so good,” you sighed to him. “Need more.”
Bucky chuckled and pushed two fingers into your channel. You knew the drill, Bucky had a system, an unspoken kink that you were prepared to explore, he loved to tease your tightly furled hole with his pinky as he fucked you with his fingers.
You felt almost smug spreading your legs as Bucky’s finger drifted lower, and you couldn’t help but sigh as he discovered what you had done.
“Sugarplum? What have you done?” He voiced your thoughts as he sat up on his haunches and gripped your ankles in one hand. The other slid under your butt and he lifted you easily to get a better view of your asshole. Or of the plug peeking out from between your cheeks.
You spent a long time exploring your options, but in the end you chose one with jewelled base for tonight. You had spent weeks preparing for this, stretching yourself with toys. Given your friends with benefits relationship you took a chance wearing it for him tonight, but he invited you to the fight and he had yet to discard you on a fight night.
You blushed at his manhandling of your body, moving you about as if you weighed nothing. “Your prize,” you breathed.
You felt suddenly nervous, you were about to give Bucky every single piece of your body, he already had your heart, with no idea if he felt the same way. You chased that little voice away as you watched him scan you with his eyes.
“I want you to fuck me in the ass,” you whispered softly.
Bucky’s eyes darkened and you felt your cunt flutter again. “Filthy girl,” Bucky groaned. He draped himself over you, kissed you hard then sat back up spreading your legs. He wasted no time in sliding two pillows underneath your hips and settling between your thighs.
“First I’m going to eat this ass, then I’m going to fuck it,” Bucky said. His mouth was hot on your thigh as he kissed the skin, and then the plug was shifting and twisting. “Is that what you want Love?”
“Yes please sir,” you said. Bucky’s chuckle was dark as he teased your hole. When the plug popped out his mouth was right there, licking your skin. He circled the rim, sucking at the puffy skin and making the most obscene slurping noises. He rested a hand over your tummy, and his thumb circled your clit. His other hand strayed up to tease your breast and nipple and you grasped at his thick wrist.
Bucky was determined, his mouth hummed against your rim and his thumb became more aggressive against your tight bundle of nerves and you tried to arch against him, but his arm anchored over your hips held you tight to the bed.
“Gonna’ come for me darlin’?” Bucky asked. You looked down into his lust blown eyes and squeezed his wrist tighter. He shifted, lacing his fingers with yours to anchor you as you felt your muscles begin to contract. “Come.”
You felt that burn in your hips snap and you cried out as you tried to grind against his face. Bucky groaned and humped against the bed as he worked you through your orgasm. He kept hold of your hand, and somehow that felt more intimate than his tongue probing your hole.
Your eyes fluttered and you watched in a daze as Bucky sat back and fisted his cock. He was dripping, and the bulbous head was nearly purple. “D’you got more lube?”
You nodded and reached underneath your pillow. Bucky leaned over you to kiss you, catching both of your hands and pressing them against the headboard. “Keep em’ here for me Sugarplum,” he ran his fingers through your natural slick and drew it down to your hole, and then added a generous dollop of lube to his cock, hissing at the cool temperature.
Big hands turned you over and you went easily, glancing back over your shoulder to watch him. Bucky pushed the bottom of your teddy out of the way, baring your rump to him and then used three fingers to test the stretch of your hole, adding lube and being careful to warm it. When he was satisfied you were stretched enough he made a pleased sound and pressed a kiss to the small of your back.
“Oh god Bucky,” you sighed as he positioned himself at your entrance and pressed forward. You had never taken anyone there and you already felt gone for him, desperate to have him in you.
You gasped, the stretch burned but it was a pleasant feeling and Bucky took his time, easing back and pushing in an inch at a time until his heavy balls rested against your pussy lips.
You grasped at the sheets, your teeth biting into your bottom lip as Bucky shifted getting used to your body. He slipped an arm beneath you and squeezed your tit, nipping the skin of your shoulder between his teeth then soothing it with wet kisses.
You rutted up, clenching around his length. “Bucky please move,” you panted unable to take the tension. He kissed your neck one last time, his tongue sneaking out to taste you before he drew his hips back and pressed forward slowly.
It wasn’t long until you found a rhythm, and Bucky’s moans mixed with your cries and the sound of skin on skin was the only sound in the room. His chest rested on your back as he pumped his hips, his thighs rested on yours pinning you down and his arms caged you in trying to keep his weight off your body. You felt safe and protected, and the haze in your mind started to clear out as he fucked you.
“So fucking tight Sugarplum, so good for me, good to me,” he said. “Your tight ass is the most amazing feeling. Like my cock in your ass huh Doll, I think you do?”
“Yeah, I can be your girl, your good girl,” you replied desperately. The hand between your breasts drifted lower and Bucky pressed two thick fingers into your channel.
“Fuck I can feel me inside you,” Bucky gasped as he moved his fingers. You felt so full, your thin walls between Bucky’s fingers and cock were burning and you whole body was buzzing. You could barely breathe, and at this point you weren’t sure you needed to. All you needed was Bucky.
You clenched around him and Bucky cried out. “Strangling my cock Sugarplum,” he moaned as he nipped your earlobe. You turned your head to share a messy kiss, all tongue and no finesse. The action made you giggle softly and Bucky kissed your head fondly.
You could soon feel his hips stutter, and he curled his fingers just so inside your sopping pussy while pressing your clit with his thumb at the same time. You cried out as you came and Bucky groaned, biting your skin lightly between his teeth. You felt his warmth a few moments later, ropes of his come filling you up.
You both lay in a haze, his hips occasionally rocking slightly. Your clit still twitched under his thumb with tiny aftershocks and you knew that you wanted to do this again.
“Next time on my back so I can kiss you proper,” you said quietly.
“Oh fuck,” he said as he heaved himself off you and collapsed back onto the mattress beside you. He gathered you into his arms and pulled you close, his hand cupping your ass. “You’ll be the death of me you beautiful menace.”
“I look ridiculous,” you giggled. You had one boob out of your nightie and your hair and face were a mess. Not to mention the sticky mess between your legs.
“Beautiful,” Bucky praised. “Thank you.”
You pressed a kiss to his lips and then Bucky was on his feet. He grabbed a wash cloth and after wiping you and himself clean he helped you off with your nightie. You snuggled in next to him as dawn began to break outside.
“You’re amazing,” you couldn’t help but say.
I love you.
“Thank you for being here, I love it when you watch me fight,” Bucky said as his fingers played with your hair. You snuggled into his broad chest and draped your leg over his thigh.
Bucky always bedded you after a fight, spent the days afterwards with you, as his adrenaline settled and he allowed himself to indulge in the pleasures that he denied for so long leading up to the bout.
“Thank you for bringing me along to your fight.”
Tell me you love me.
“You’ve been here from the start, only fair you get to see the biggest one so far,” Bucky murmured against your head. “Besides, your my best girl.”
“You’re so needy,” you rolled your eyes playfully, hiding your disappointment behind gentle teasing.
I may be your best girl, but I’m not your only girl.
“Let’s get some sleep Sugarplum,” Bucky said.
You nodded and kissed his chest but sleep was slow to come as your mind whirled and studied every word you had shared with Bucky tonight, but you settled down knowing that at least for now he had chosen you.
—————
As you lay awake your mind whirling with thoughts so did Bucky.
It’s was getting harder for him to give you up, to let you go back to your life, and he hated how far gone he was on you. Other girls were an easy distraction for a time but all he wanted was you and they were becoming less satisfying.
It was an offhand comment you had made years ago, the first time you hooked up, that kept him from confessing his feelings. Even then he was hung up on you, the quiet granddaughter of his mentor and the man who owned the boxing gym he first trained at.
I’m not looking for anything serious and neither should you be, you’ve got a career to think about now. Besides, your not the kind of guy a girl like me deserves.
He could still hear your voice clearly almost a decade later. The words still cut. He wasn’t good enough or smart enough for you, he wasn’t what you wanted in a husband.
Bucky wondered if he should give it a chance with you, put his heart on the line one last time? He turned his head, curled his arm across your tummy and snuggled into your side.
His actions settled both of you, and unbeknownst to each other you both fell asleep with each others comfort.
Part 2
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clairecrive · 4 years ago
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"Rock my world" - Sirius Black x reader
A/n: I was thinking of making this a series but idk, let me know what you think. The band in the picture, Maneskin, are my inspiration for the marauders' band music and aesthetic. Check them out cause they're really good. They're going to represent Italy at the next Eurovision contest.
Here's their Instagram and Spotify.
Tags: Muggle AU, so ofc no magic, no Hogwarts, Marauders in a rock band, no Peter but Regulus instead, jily
Warnings: none
Word count: 2.2K ish
Summary: When y/n finally agrees to check out this band that her best friend was always talking about, she's in for a pleasant surprise and one hell of a night.
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It had all started in the cheesiest and most cliscé of ways, really. Y/n had made a bet which had made you go out of your comfort zone that one night and for your bravery, you were rewarded with the most amazing boyfriend ever. It sounds like a story out of a rom-com or a romance novel, doesn't it? Well, yeah, it felt like a main character moment but, unlike what we see in those stories, it wasn't always fun and games.
But let's start from the beginning, shall we?
Y/n's best friend Jules had been nagging her about this rock band who was apparently the new sensation of the year according to her, for the longest time. So, one Friday night, when Jules had informed her that that very band was playing in a bar not very far from her workplace, she agreed to go for drinks there.
Worst case scenario, she thought, the music will be terrible but at least I get to tease Jules about it.
Still clothed in the floral dress she had chosen this morning, but adding a few glittery touches and graphic eyeliner to make her look more nighty, y/n headed towards said bar where Jules was already waiting for her.
"Finally," she huffed when y/n rounded the corner and entered her field of vision. 
"Sorry, it was my turn to close tonight," y/n shot her an apologetic smile before hooking their arms.
They made their way inside looking for a place to sit. The bar was already crowded but not in an unusual way. Maybe it was the hour or the fact that it was a weeknight, y/n didn't know but felt grateful that it wasn't packed. She really wasn't a fan of crowded places.
They got their drinks and caught up as they usually would about their week. They were almost finished when the band walked up the stage and music started playing. Even before the first note, one look at their outfits made clear what kind of music they were going to play. 
They had an interesting aesthetic, y/n had to admit. They wore the same colour but each member had their own style. The band was made up of four guys, the bassist had long straight hair and he looked a lot like the singer who instead had curly hair, the drummer had short curly light brown hair and y/n couldn't see what he was wearing past a black vest while the guitarist had black hair that was all over the place and wore glasses. 
They had an androgynous aesthetic, each of them with beautiful makeup in tones of black and grey and the ones y/n could see clearly were wearing a sort of body. They looked stunning. Y/n had decided she liked them based on this alone. She had to admire anyone who had the guts to express themselves freely especially when it was in such an open and unapologetic way of going against gender norms.
After half an hour, the music stopped and after the singer wished everyone goodnight and they all climbed down. As she expected, they played rock music ranging from soft rock edging pop to hard rock that made her think a lot of ACDC. Y/n wasn't an expert in music but she had liked what she heard and wouldn't mind listening more from them. She was sure that she was going to catch some of their songs on the radio in the future. 
However, Jules picked up the conversation where they had left it before the concert and decided that it was the time where she'd complain about her recent love interest. Each of their weekly meetings had one of this moment. Unfortunately, it looked like Jules didn't have a lot of luck when it came to guys. And as it always would, she wondered if she was the problem asking y/n if the reason every one of her relationships failed because she was unlovable. As if.
"That's not true, I truly believe that you can learn to love anyone. Lest you get to know them, of course."
"Of course you'd say something like that."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"If you truly believe that, then you're not going to say no to this." Jules wriggles her eyebrows suggestively and y/n knew that the night is either about to become very interesting or about to go very wrong.
"The expression on your face is telling me that I should definitely say no to what you're about to say."
"Oh c'mon, it's just an innocent dare. Nothing too crazy, I promise."
"Which is?"
"You see that guy leaning on the bar? Long black hair with the black leather jacket?" Y/n turned around indulging her friend and eventually spotted the guy she was talking about. She took her time to look at him until she realized something that made her whip around to face Jules again.
"You mean the singer of the band?" y/n asked incredulously.
"Isn't he handsome?" Jules smiled wide completely ignoring the look y/n was giving her already knowing what was going through her friends' mind. "I want you to go to him and ask him out."
"What?" 
"C'mon", Jules complained reaching out to y/n over the table, "didn't you say that it was possible to love anyone? Can't you see yourself loving him?"
"That's not the point," y/n exclaimed still not believing that her friend was suggesting something so outrageous. "Can you see him loving me?" Because that man over there had "heart breaker" spelt all over him. And okay, y/n had to admit that this was a rush judgment she was making and it wasn't exactly fair but there was no way that a guy like him could be interested in a girl like her.
And yes, we could stay here and discuss all the reasons why that statement is wrong but still, if she were to put herself out there -something that was not like her at all- she wasn't going to go over someone so out of reach for her. And that was that.
"Listen, do you remember that video you sent me the other day?" Jules squared her shoulders, now looking fully serious at y/n. Unfortunately, y/n did remember the video Jules was talking about. She would have never guessed it would come back and bit her in the ass otherwise she'd never sent it.
Sighing, y/n looked down at the drink in her hands and thought about it. The video basically encouraged the viewer to go up to what they believed was the most beautiful person in the room and tell them exactly that. It may sound a little silly but at the time y/n had appreciated the sentiment. Going out of one's comfort zone. Challenging yourself. Because, what was the worst that could happen? That person shotting you down? That didn't sound life-threatening. Now though, y/n wasn't so sure. 
"Worst case scenario, just tell him I'm calling you and head back here." Jules offered, almost as if she could tell exactly what her best friend was thinking.
Looking at her best friend, something snapped in her. Jules was right. What's the worst that could happen? She already knew that the guy was going to shoot her down. She was prepared. It was a dare, a silly thing that could give her a story to tell to her nephews one day. 
What the hell, y/n thought squaring her shoulders. 
"You know what?" she downed the rest of her drink and got up from her seat, "I'm doing it." Looking in the reflection of the tissue box on the table to check how she looked, she fixed her smudged lipstick and ruffed her hair before nodding solemnly at Jules and turned around.
As she made her way to the bar, she could hear Jules cheering on her fueling her sudden confidence. 
The man of the hour was there where she saw him last. Her steps faltered as she realized that she had no idea how to approach him. What was she going to say? Oh my god, she was totally going to make a fool of herself. If she was not going to die for his rejection, she sure is going to die of embarrassment. 
She was almost about to turn around and abort the mission when his eyes met hers.
Well, fuck. There was no way she was going to back down now.
She regained her confidence and smiled at him while closing the distance between them. She smiled at him. Who was she? Did someone drug her drink?
He smiled back at her, turning so that he'd be facing her once she reached him and she almost stopped to pinch herself to see if she was hallucinating or something.
"Hey," she said once she stood in front of him. Good, she thought, let's start with something simple.
"Hi," he smiled back at her.  
Okay, okay, it's going good, isn't it? He hasn't ignored me, that must mean something, right? Yes, that he wasn't a rude asshole was her sobering thought.
"So," y/n started trying to take to time while she figured what to say, "I saw a video the other day," was what she ended up with. 
The handsome stranger lifted his eyebrows in amusement and took a sip of his beer. Y/n took that as a "go on then".
"There was this woman that basically dared anyone watching to go up to the person who they thought was the most beautiful person in the room and tell them exactly that." Well, let's just get it out of the way, I guess, she thought. "So, here I am," she added as if it wasn't clear enough.
However, as she saw the man's smile widen, y/n suddenly realized how really screwed she was. This man was way out of her league.
"Well, now that I'm here, I should also mention that you've really good at what you do too." 
"Not to sound rude or anything," he spoke for the first time that evening and y/n had already decided that he had been the gods' favourite in another life before he opened his mouth but now? as he heard his low and raspy voice? she was sure he had been at least a demi-god, "did you lost a bet or something?" he asked, his grey eyes boring into hers like he was looking into her soul.  
Who was this guy? and why was she feeling like this? Get a grip, y/n, she scolded herself.
"Is it that obvious?" y/n's shoulders slouched as some of the tension left them, a nervous laugh leaving her mouth. 
"I saw you downing your drink like it was some kind of bravery potion before you came here," he explained with a light scroll of his shoulders. "Not that I mind though," he added with what should be an illegal smirk. Smug.
"Yeah, I'm sure you've heard it countless time only tonight." Let's joke on it, she thought, there's still a chance I can come clean out of this mess. 
He chuckled and, not leaving her eyes, he slipped a hand through his loose hair pushing it back. "I meant that if you hadn't come I would probably found an excuse to come up to you too." He leaned back onto the bar looking completely unbothered, not as if he had said something that made her feel on fire. 
"Looks like I've to thank your friend for my luck." Looking over your shoulder, he held one of his hands up and lightly waving at Jules, y/n figured.
"Yeah, let's not tell her that or I will never hear the end of it." Rolling her eyes, y/n also leaned on her arm resting on the bar next to him. Whether it was the fact that all the cards were on the table or that what he said meant that he had to somewhat like her, she felt more relaxed than a couple of minutes ago.
"Before I make this solemn oath, I think it would be appropriate to know your name, don't you think?"
"It's y/n," she held her hand up for him to shake. However, he had something else in mind since when he took hold of her hand he turned it and held it up to his lips to leave a soft kiss on it. Y/n  almost rolled her eyes at the gesture if it wasn't for his eyes. They didn't move from hers and she found that she didn't want to stop looking at him. Like she was in a trance. Yes, he was handsome, even more so up close, so of course he was nice to look at but that wasn't why. It's the way his eyes glimmered as they watched her, the gentleness with which he was holding her hand, the softness of his lips on her skin. What would they feel like on her lips, she wondered.
"I'm Sirius." 
And that's how it all started. A silly video sent almost automatically to her best friend and an outrageous bet made y/n's night definitely interesting. To her luck though, Sirius became a permanent presence and not a one-night sensation.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
Tagging: @seldomabsent
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sleepyfan-blog · 6 years ago
Text
Regrets and Wishes - Confession verse chapter three
first chapter >> last chapter 
Fandom: Dreamtale AU
I would like to thank @trashydragonartist7 for editing this fic
warnings: cursing, mention of murder, threats
word count: 3,877
summary: Nightmare talks to Dream’s statue and figures out how to create portals to other universes. 
edit: AO3 link here
As the days turned into months and then into years, Nightmare found himself visiting his other half less and less over time. At first he couldn't go more than an hour or two without teleporting back to where Dream's... Statue? Stood. Checking to make sure that no one had tried to do anything to him, or tried to steal him away and hide the other from him. Hoping that Dream would shake off the stasis spell that Nightmare had unintentionally cast on the other. Still... Even as his visits became less frequent... The negative guardian couldn't help but keep up his practice of playing Confession Time with Dream at Sunset whenever he visited. Even if he was the only one playing, and all he could do to cuddle afterwards was to wrap his tentacles around the other's stone-bound form and lean against the other, occasionally whispering apologies for trapping the other in such a way...
Once the anger and fear had died down in his mind, Nightmare knew that Dream would have never gone against him - even as the whispering, seething voice of maddened corruption urged him to ensure that the stasis spell would never break. His newly granted powers will be able to weaken you. Keep him trapped forevermore, so that you can rule this world and the pathetic mortals who tormented and mocked you without contest. But Dream wouldn't fight him, they loved one another too much to do so. As long as he didn't immediately attack the other once he broke free of the spell... Which Nightmare had no idea how he'd cast it, much less how to reverse it. From what he had read from the spell books that he came across that weren't completely destroyed by panicked mortals fleeing from him, such spells needed to wear off on their own time - as early reversal could have unintended and potentially devastating consequences. The very last thing that Nightmare wanted was to further harm the love of his life.
He walked through the barren, lifeless landscape, first through the long-abandoned and broken-down hovels that the villagers had once lived in, their dust and even the human's bones having long been blown away and turned into nothingness. Nightmare hasn't killed all of the mortals who live in his timeline (and not just because it was one of the last things that Dream had begged him to do, before being turned to stone), because if they were all dead, who would he rule? He made his way over to where Dream stood, the frozen expression of fear and hurt confusion on his other half's face not causing him to flinch or pause the way it had at first. The castle that he was having his terrified subjects build for him was well under way, and he was paying them for their time and effort, as Nightmare figured that they would be more motivated to work quickly that way.
One of his hands came up to rest on one of Dream's shoulders, and Nightmare murmured quietly, "Confession time... I killed another three mortals today. They were trying to start a rebellion amongst the other mortals. I dragged them, kicking and screaming from their little plotting room into the center of the town square. I ordered the Dark Papyri to round all of the mortals up and bring them to the town square. I informed them of the crimes that the three fools had committed and I executed them quickly. The rabbit monster first - straight through the soul, quick and clean. The wolf-monster bit me so I... I indulged in a little bit of petty vengeance by strangling him to death. The human was struggling and pleading at that point, but I shattered their yellow soul. I almost didn't kill them, as it was such a pretty color. The hue reminded me of your magic and eye lights... But that human would have continued to cause trouble. Yellow-souled humans are almost more trouble than the ones with Red souls now."
Nightmare paused for a moment, shivering a little. He was grateful that Dream couldn't hear him. He could almost imagine the horror and sorrow that his lighter, better half would have reacted if he'd heard he had done such a thing. But, he could also imagine that moments later, the other's sweet voice would speak up and say something along the lines of: "I... I wish that you wouldn't have to kill so much.. B-But I'm glad that you didn't make their deaths painful... Do you... Do you want to talk about why you did that so publicly?"
He huffed a little at the imagined question, answering it. "Of course I executed them publicly. I've crowned myself king, remember? Those mortal idiots have no way to possibly go against me... And I killed those three rebellious mortals in order to firmly dissuade any others from trying to do the same. They can't kill me, no matter what magic they think that they can bring to bear, or the weapons that they craft with the sole intention of trying to end my life."
Dream would likely be choosing his words carefully, were he able to respond. Something like: "I... Okay. So you're trying to make sure that you don't have to kill more people if they try to do something dumb? I... That's... That's better than just killing them as they try to rise up against you." his aura would show his worry and concern - not only for the mortal fools, but also for him as well. Perhaps Dream might even say something along the lines of "I wish that there was something that I could do to help..."
"I keep this place free of mortals, Dream. Though knowledge of you does seem to be fading, belief that you do exist somewhere is strongest amongst those who have rebellious sentiments against me. I do not know what would happen, were they to find your statue and I want to keep you safe. I fear that they might try to reverse the spell or... Or harm your statue to see if you will wake from the stasis spell." Nightmare murmured, realizing after he had spoken that he was treating the imaginary conversation he was having in his head with Dream as if it was actually happening. It was very likely that the other couldn't see or hear anything... But he might sense his presence, despite the stasis spell because of how profoundly linked the two of them are. Nightmare can still faintly sense the other's presence within the stone prison he's encased in. "I hope that you know that I love you. I never stopped."
"I love you too, Nightmare!" Dream might respond, shifting behind the tree or whatever they were hiding themselves behind, likely wanting to teleport to the other side and hug him. Maybe give Nightmare a couple of kisses. Stars above and below,  he missed his other half desperately. "You mentioned something about a castle, Nightlight? Seems kind of excessive to me..."
"Hey now, I am the king of this world... And speaking of such things, once it's fully built. I intend to carry you to a spot close to where it's being built. I want to be able to visit you every day and I... I have an idea that I think that you might like..." Nightmare murmured quietly, leaning around Dream, unable to resist the temptation to curl his tentacles around the other's stone form, his arms wrapped around his waist securely in a hug that the other couldn't respond to. The negative spirit was unsure as to whether or not he was thinking wistfully... But for a moment, he thought that he felt Dream's presence within the statue strengthen for a couple of moments... Perhaps reacting to him being closer.
"What is it? Nighty please tell me!" Dream would ask, his golden eye lights full of the curiosity that he could keenly sense in the other's emotional aura, gently tugging at him to explain. He might see the other peek at him from the other side of the tree before going back to the other side.
"Hmmm... I did intend for it to be a surprise for you, Dream... So you'll just have to wait." Nightmare murmured quietly, pressing a gentle kiss to one of the other's stone cheeks, struggling not to cry or to start screaming in frustration. Why did his beloved have to be trapped in stone? How long would it take for this wretched curse to end, and the two of them to be together again? Then again... "Confession time - though I look forwards to you finally waking up... I'm also terrified that you... That you will try to fight against me when you wake. It would tear me apart for you to do so but... Given what all I've done... The demonic villain that I have so clearly become - at least in the eyes of the mortals - I don't... I don't want to lose you again, my daydream..."
"Nightmare I... You know that I wouldn't fight against you, no matter how dark you have become. When I do wake up, I'll try to get you to be nicer to people, but I... I don't think I could fight you. I wasn't going to when you put that stasis spell on me. I was just... Scared and-and I had to protect the last golden apple. I wasn't keeping the power from you for selfish reasons I was just.." Dream might explain, fidgeting with his hands and looking away from him, still leaning comfortable in his grasp, perhaps. Guilt and uncertainty, mixed with protectiveness and love.
Or so Nightmare would like to imagine. "To preserve some positive feelings in the multiverse. Yes, I am... I am aware of this. At the time I was too consumed by the power that I had so recently acquired I lost control of myself... My deepest apologies for doing so. I will apologize to you, should you not immediately run upon waking. I really hope that you don't, though I will understand if you do..." The lord of darkness murmured softly, holding the statue of his beloved a little closer, the thought of the other trying to flee from him almost too awful to contemplate - though it was something that he worried about rather a lot. The mortals seemed convinced that he'd either killed or imprisoned Dream... A few held out hope that their beloved beacon of light and love had simply fled after being terribly injured, and would come to their rescue one day, to triumphantly strike down the demon of darkness.
"Confession time... I - I still want to wander across the multiverse. We know it exists, because of the skeletal bodies that the previous guardian made for us! I want to know what it's like in other worlds - do they have important places to protect, or are they free to live their lives however they want? I'd never leave your side but I... I want to wander, if we can." Dream confessed - having said much the same thing once, as snow had begun to fall around them.
Nightmare had been surprised to hear that at first - it was another hint that his other half was almost as unhappy about being tethered to this tree and constantly pestered by the mortals as Nightmare was - though the positive spirit was worshipped and his very presence coveted. As he grew older and gained more perspective, Nightmare could only imagine how difficult that must have been for Dream - who he had known, was perfectly content to stay by his side and tend to their duties. He liked to interact with others well enough but... Dream had been unable to show any emotion around the mortals that wasn't entirely positive or happy - lest they seek retribution on Nightmare, who was clearly at fault in their eyes.  "I'm still trying to figure out if we can cross universes. Given that the previous guardian was able to do so at least to some degree, it's very likely that we can... I'll just have to give it more thought."
Dream might hum thoughtfully, his golden eye lights bright, though he wouldn't be able to see because they'd be still on opposite sides of the tree, wanting to adhere to the rules of the game. "Hmm... It's a mystery... Still, I believe that you'll figure it out! You're very smart and you read all those books all the time... Or at least you did. Do you still read, or are you too busy as the king of our world?" Nightmare was fairly sure that his beloved would tease him a little for the title, a bit of mischief in the other's magical aura, though Dream would mean it lovingly. Everything that Dream did was done with love and concern for someone - he was a genuine ray of light and warmth in a world that, for the negative guardian, had been miserable and full of pain.
"Hey Dream, you had said before... Before you'd turned to stone that you had an idea as to how to get the villagers to leave me alone for good. But you never told me what it was - you said that you were trying to come up with how to phrase your idea properly... I would have helped you, had you told me your plan." Nightmare murmured quietly. It was something that he genuinely wanted to know - because unless Dream's plan was to somehow banish them from their presence by at least several days' walk or riding... Which would be unlikely that his generally gentle beloved would actually be able to enforce with any true ferocity... It probably wouldn't have worked. Not for very long as mortals could be so terribly forgetful of the promises that they made.
"Yeah, and I was working on it! I just... I was working on how to tell you the plan so that you might agree to it... But you figured out how to make them leave you alone on their own..." Dream might remark quietly, going quiet for a couple of moments. "N-Not that I’m... I'm mad at you f-for killing most of them... They would have... They would have tried to kill us if you didn't strike them first. I just wish that there would have been a peaceful solution to this."
"I know, Dream. But that's because you've got an overdeveloped sense of Mercy and forgive far too easily." Nightmare answered back, shaking his head a little, knowing that it would make his other half sulk a little. He knew that he spoke the truth. Dream gave so much of himself to other people (including Nightmare himself) and seemed to expect nothing in return... Or at least, that's how the other had been before he had turned Dream to stone. Nightmare stiffened a little as he sensed several very agitated beings headed in his direction at high speed and cursed lowly before remarking, "I'm sorry Dream, but there's someone headed this way, and I do not want anyone to know where you are. I will attempt to spare them, as I know that's what you would want."
"Thank you, Nightmare! I hope that they're just running this way because they need your help... Rather than because they're here for something... Not so good..." Dream might respond, perhaps even peeking around their tree and nodding a little. "I'll hide here. Be careful Nightlight!"
"I will, my precious star." Nightmare responds quietly, pressing a gentle kiss to one of the other's cheeks before teleporting to where the charging monsters were, a smirk on his face, his tentacles sharp and at the ready.
~
Three weeks later, and Nightmare found himself in a very desolate and hopeless Alternate Universe. The lord of darkness had realized that he could sense other places that were filled with Negativity and create portals to lead him to these places. He walked as quietly as he could through the desolate, snow-covered forest, his senses on high alert as he searched for one of the inhabitants of this world. He saw a crude shelter in the distance, and could sense that someone sentient was currently staying there. He could sense anger, despair and a frantic, desperate desire (or perhaps need?) for something within the being.
Nightmare decided to be dramatic and teleported directly in front of the crude shelter, taking in the appearance of the being. A tall, broad-shouldered skeleton monster with a single, glowing red eye light and a huge crack in his skull. Leaning against the far wall of the shelter was a chipped axe. The mortal monster startled a little, reaching for his axe. "Who the fuck are you? You... You're new here. I don't think I've seen you before, and I've met a lot of monsters. Those of us who are left." The mortal swore, rearing back a little.
The lord of negativity chuckled lowly and grabbed both the skeleton monster and the other's axe with his tentacles, pulling the other from his supposed spot of safety and smirking at him. "You would be correct, I am not from this world. I am Nightmare, lord of Negativity. I am curious as to why your world is so full of despair and misery. Care to tell me? If you entertain me well enough I may just deign to help you."
The Sans glowered at him before reluctantly explaining about The Barrier and the human souls they'd painstakingly collected over a thousand years of imprisonment. "And then the seventh human fell - but they had a Determined soul, so every time the little shit died, they were able to turn back time to before they died. They made their way through the underground, killing the king and stars fuckin' know what happened to the human souls we previously collected. Then Empress Undyne took over and imposed several laws - including strict food rationing which has led, along with the decreased Hope of ever getting out of this shitty prison, to most of us twisting.. That and I fucking hate her for what she did to my baby bro... Twisted his gentle innocence into what it is now. You want my loyalty? We need food, freedom and for that fuckin' Empress to die. I guarantee that you'll have more than just my loyalty, but everyone else's as well." Sans also explained about Loads and Resets - shuddering in fury and unhappiness.
Nightmare hummed a little, nodding in understanding. "Are there monsters who are loyal to this Empress Undyne? I may have to kill them as well - otherwise they could try to ferment rebellion which will lead to more unnecessary deaths. I've never heard of Loads and Resets - while some of the humans in the world I am from have magic, and some even have a magically Determined soul,, they've never been in control of my world. The only one in control is myself, and Resets are impossible in my timeline due to what it is. There never was a human-monster war, and everyone lives on the surface, as they always have."
The other's red eye light widened before shrinking down a pinprick and the other went limp and still in his grasp, he looked down. A clear sign of surrender. "I... Please... I'll... I'll do anything you ask, just... Please take my brother with you to this timeline of yours. I want him to be safe, to be free of those who can turn time on it's head and play with our lives and hearts, killing and saving on a whim. Papyrus is still a gentle soul, and I'm pretty sure that I can convince him that your humans are friends, not food. Your world sounds like a fuckin' paradise. Use me as you please, I don't... I don't care."
The other's pleading was wonderful to hear - the villagers who lived around the castle had long since gone quiet, turning into limp dolls whenever he tried to torment any of them, which was boring. Nightmare considered letting Sans beg and plead for his brother's safety and security for a while longer, then decided against it. "In exchange for your people being freed - I may simply bring them all to my timeline and have them settle in villages that suit their varying needs due to monster type, rather than unsealing the barrier above -as I do not know how the humans of your world will react to monsterkind after being so pushed aside for so long. The humans of my timeline have long lived peacefully with monsters and the races mingle freely - and your brother being safe... Perhaps I would have him work as a member of my staff on the council? What does he like to do? You will work for me - fighting when needed. Is this understood?"
"Yes, yes sir! I'm a good fighter, despite my low stats, sir." Sans responded, nodding frantically in agreement. "Papyrus likes to cook. He hasn't been taught how to cook well, but if he's taught by someone who actually knows what they’re doing, I'm sure that he could get loads better." Nightmare was the single most powerful being he had ever sensed before - including the determined human whose name Sans refused to acknowledge. Papyrus was also a good fighter - but Sans would rather the other not gain any more LV than he already had. Undyne had forced his brother to kill and it was the worst thing that Sans had ever experienced - and that included dying by the human's hands that one time. Going to a world where time was linear and couldn't double back on itself, or stutter backwards and forth for hours and days at a time? There was nothing that Sans wouldn't do to earn a place in such a world for his brother and himself. "As for who's actually loyal to her... Alphys, maybe? She's our Royal Scientist, but I'm not sure. I can send out some feelers, talk to some good friends of mine... Grillby is an excellent friend, an fantastic chef and a powerful fighter - he'd be useful to you as well."
Nightmare's visible eye light lit up, glad the other was taking his offer seriously. He noticed something and murmured, "Before we continue this conversation - perhaps I should show you to the world that you and your people will be moving to... Are you well enough aware of the needs that the monsters in the underground require to speak to me of such things?"
"I... I believe so, sir." Sans answered back with a nod, his emotions a mixture of hopeful, terrified, suspicious, and determined.
A small smirk appeared on the Lord of Darkness' face as he opened a cyan portal, stepping through it with Sans in his tentacles, setting the other down as the portal closed behind them. "Welcome to my world, Sans. Shall we begin?"
"Yes sir." The Sans from Horrortale responded, nodding again, feeling a little bit like one of those human toys that had a head that bobbled and wiggled up and down, side to side. But he'd do what he could to get his people safe and free - even if it meant sacrificing what was left of his soul to this... Strange being.
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hookedonapirate · 6 years ago
Text
To Play the Game (and win your heart)
Summary: Some people would call it a job, but to Emma and her sister, Milah, it’s a game of the heart. Play by the rules and you’ll never get hurt.
Whatever you call swindling wealthy men out of their money, this con-artist duo has it down to a tee. Milah sets up an available, rich man and gets him to marry her. Emma seduces and lures the husband into having an affair so he’ll get caught in the act. He then loses his money in the ensuing divorce.
The sisters wear a coat of armor around their hearts to keep them intact, but when they set their sights on their next mark, professional golfer Killian “Hook” Jones, Emma never imagined how hard the game could be and how easily her heart could be stolen—especially when she switches roles with Milah and becomes the one exchanging vows with the gorgeous multi-millionaire. Heartbreakers AU.
Artwork by: @distant-rose
Rating: Mature for connivery, vixen behavior and sexual themes.
Content Warnings: This story deals with conning and manipulation and also mentions/includes children with various disabilities, and also .
Author’s Notes: There's two more chapters after this, and I'm so sad this story is coming to end soon but I've had so much fun reading all of your reviews. Because someone had mentioned this, I wanted to clarify that Killian's character is in no way based on Jack in Heartbreakers, in case you've seen the movie and haven't already figured that out, and I love that one of you mentioned it! Killian may be a fool in love, but he's certainly not a hopeless spineless sap, so please don't expect Emma to be let off scot-free - but you will see how things turn out very soon. Here we go!
Thank you @captainswanbigbang and all of the moderators for organizing the event and for all of your help throughout the process.
A huge shout out goes to @ilovemesomekillianjones for all of her help with this fic. She really kicked some butt while beta reading, and if not for her, this story would not be what it is. And thank you @wellhellotragic​ for pointing out a few dumb mistakes as well.
Thank you @distant-rose for stepping in as my artist. She is so talented and I can’t wait for everyone to see all of the art she has planned for this fic. She even made me a playlist for this story including Emma’s and Milah’s theme song, Homewrecker by Marina and the Diamonds, and some other great tracks that fit well with the theme of the fic.
Thank you @onceuponaprincessworld for all of her feedback and for her constant support and for letting me bounce ideas off of her during the process. Thank you @teamhook for her help and ideas with scenes I was struggling with.
There are 12 chapters, and I will be posting every Tuesday, so let me know if you would like to be tagged.
Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9
Also available on: AO3 FFnet
Artwork by @distant-rose
Ch 1 Art Ch 3 Art Ch 4 Art Ch 7 Art Ch 8 Art
Chapter 10: Final Round
~Rule #10: Keep your eyes on the finish line. You're about to rip the rug from underneath his feet, flip his world upside down and destroy everything he’s worked so hard for, so whatever you do, don’t let anything or anyone get in your way, no matter what. Put on the show of your life, but your heart must remain of steel when you rip his out and let it crumble in between your fingers.~
 The early morning light illuminates softly through the bedroom windows, creating a warm glow in the room. Killian is lying on his stomach as he starts to stir in the tangled blankets and sheets, the delicious aroma of coffee intriguing his senses. Turning his head away from the intrusive light, he instinctively reaches out towards the other side of the bed, but instead of finding his wife, he finds her side empty. Gradually opening his groggy eyes, he lifts his head to confirm his Swan is not there.
 Mustering the energy from his tired bones, he slowly makes his way out of bed, pulls on a pair of boxers and goes in search of her.
 He once again finds Emma sitting out on the terrace, this time in a light blue nighty, staring out over the ocean and nursing a coffee. He doesn't blame her though. The sound of the waves and seagulls are soothing, and the gentle breeze feels quite perfect.
 Killian grins at the sight and comes up behind her, wrapping her up in his embrace. “Aren't I the one who's supposed to be the early riser?” he teases playfully.
 Emma shudders in his hold, turning her head and offering a smile smile. “I just woke up and couldn't fall back to sleep.”
 “How come, darling? What's on your mind?”
 Emma shrugs softly. “I just realized last night how little we really know about each other.” She turns around in his arms, looking up at him. “I mean, aren't married couples supposed to know every little thing, like the tattoos they have and what the other likes in bed? We've never even seen each other naked until last night.”
 Killian’s features fall in disappointment. Was he not adequate enough for her? He thought she’d enjoyed their lovemaking as much as he had, but maybe he was mistaken. “Was I… did I do something wrong?” he asks, worry lacing his tone.
 Emma shakes her head, a smirk curving her lips. “No, of course not. You were... incredible.”
 Killian sighs in relief, his expression relaxing a bit. “Then what's the problem, sweetheart?” he asks softly. “Not all couples have sex before marriage.”
 “I know… but those people normally know everything else about their partner. And we didn’t. We still don't.”
 “Emma, we have from now until the end of time to get to know each other,” he points out in a hopeful tone. “Are you regretting getting married too soon?”
 Emma shakes her head, pursing her lips in contemplation, her eyes full of conflict. “No, I'm not, I just... there are some things I need to tell you.”
 Killian places the pad of his index finger on her lips to stop her from saying anything more. “It can wait. Our honeymoon is supposed to be relaxing, not stressful,” he reminds her.
 Emma looks like she still wants to tell him something, but right now he has other ideas as he takes the coffee cup from her hand and places it on the outdoor table.
 “I want my wife to feel pampered and loved appropriately, not worried or discouraged.” Before she can respond, Killian is running his hands down her exquisite curves, following the trail down her clothed body with his lips. She shows him no resistance and is already responding with a soft moan, her body molding into his touches.
 He kneels down in front of his sweet goddess, lifting her leg over his shoulder. She braces back against the railing as he sneaks his head underneath her gown and uses his mouth and fingers on her, caressing her folds and enjoying her sweetness on his tongue. Hearing her soft curses above him, he eagerly explores his wife, devouring her in his mouth and pumping his fingers into her heat. It's not long before he’s pulling her into the abyss, her walls fluttering around his tongue as she offers all of her essence to him, crying out into the open, morning air.
 Licking his lips, he picks her up and carries her back to bed where they display their affections with gentle caresses, satisfying strokes and sweet kisses. They explore every inch of skin, every line and every curve, memorizing and getting to know each other’s body more thoroughly. They stay in bed long into the late afternoon until they finally remove themselves to shower and make breakfast together.
 $*$*$
 Emma wants to stay on the island with Killian forever, but alas, real life forces them to go back. After getting back from their honeymoon very late, Emma drives to work early in the morning, while he visits the driving range.
 She has this foreign feeling blooming inside her. She’s never been this happy before, and can’t say she hates the feeling. There’s just a tiny problem of having to tell Milah to call off the con, though, but she hopes to quickly rectify that.
 She dials Milah’s number during her drive to work and it rings a few times before her sister answers.
 “Hey?” Milah’s words are laced with confusion. Emma really has no reason to call her, because the plan is already set in motion. They never talk to each other between the wedding and the carefully planned affair, so neither will get doubts or mixed feelings, and neither one will be influenced by the other to back out. “Is everything okay?”
 “Yeah…” Emma takes a deep, shaky breath, not sure how to form in words what she wants to tell her sister. “Actually, no, not really,” she confesses, the inside of her stomach twisting with nerves, like it’s filled with snakes.
 “What is it? If you’re worried about how things will go, please don't. Everything will be fine, I promise.”
 “It’s not that,” Emma begins, and she’s feeling conflicted. She knows she has to fess up and tell Milah the truth, but at the same time she doesn’t want to disappoint her sister. She also doesn't want to hurt Killian. It’s a lot like she’s choosing between them, and her loyalty should be leaning towards Milah, but her heart is going off in an entirely different direction. “I’m calling off the con,” Emma blurts out loud, and the silence on the other end of the line is deafening. Emma starts to panic, not knowing exactly how Milah is reacting to this.
 “You wanna what?” Milah questions finally, after an eternity, or so it feels, her tone hinting towards anger and irritation.
 Emma’s heart is hammering so fast, she’s not sure if she can tell her sister how she really feels exactly. “I… I can’t go through with it.”
 Milah emits a strangled noise and Emma has to hold the phone away, her features twisting in confusion. Is Milah really laughing?
 Holding the phone to her ear again, Emma can still hear her laughing for several more seconds before the sound finally dies in Milah’s throat.
 “Oh Emma, that’s a good one. You really had me going for a sec.”
 “No, I’m serious, Mi. I can’t go through with this.”
 “And why not?” Milah’s tone is much more serious, and Emma can tell she is not thrilled by this revelation.
 Chewing on her bottom lip, Emma throws around the idea of telling her the truth because isn’t that the whole point of this conversation—to tell Milah the truth? “Because I’m in love with Killian.”
 Again there is silence, and it’s completely overwhelming. She needs something; any sort of response will do, really, but there’s nothing for what feels like several minutes.
 “Milah?”
 “I cannot believe this. You’re the one who begged me to go along with this. Ever since you saw that damn golfer, you have nothing but insisted that he is the one who will get us to Hawaii.”
 “Milah—”
 “No, let me finish.” Her tone is sharp, full of fire as she continues. “You swore up and down you could do this. You said ‘trust me, sis. I won’t let you down, I promise,’ so I agreed, even though I knew it wasn’t the best decision.”
 “I know, and I’m sorry, but I can’t help the way I feel. Do you really think I wanted this? I mean after everything we’ve done so far, do you think I wanted to let you down? It hurts like hell knowing I did,” Emma admits, her voice cracking with apology. “I really wanna make this up to you, but right now I just need to know you won’t go through with this.”
 Mialah sighs through the phone, and Emma can sense her resolve is weakening. “Fine, I won’t. Your feelings are more important than the con.”
 Emma is flooded with relief, and she takes a deep breath, releasing all of the stress she had felt from thinking about Milah going through with the plan. “Thank you Mi. I really owe you one.”
 “Big time,” Milah agrees with a laugh.
 Emma smiles, knowing that everything will be okay. Or at least she hopes. She still has to tell Killian the truth, as much as it will hurt. She cares for him too much to not tell him. She just hopes she doesn't lose him after she does. “How about I start off with a thank you meal from TooJay’s Deli after I get out of work,” Emma offers, knowing their corned beef and pastrami sandwich is Milah’s favorite.
 “I’ll take it,” Milah accepts rather quickly, her words edged with excitement. “When do you think you’ll be home?”
 Emma looks at the clock below her dashboard. It normally takes fifteen minutes to get from Marco’s to her house, but since she has to stop at the deli first, she knows it will be longer than that. “Well, based on the traffic, I wanna say two, two thirty is that too late?”
 “No it's perfect. Can’t wait.”
 $*$*$
 Entering the driving range he’s grown so familiar with, Killian wipes the sweat from his brow. He’s prepared for a morning of practice in the sweltering heat, reflecting on the honeymoon and the wonderful time he’d had with Emma.
 Killian knew he’d be taking a risk proposing so soon and getting married not long after, but he doesn’t regret any of it. He’s incredibly happy, and he never thought he could be—not until Emma had entered his life.
 He’s looking forward to the future awaiting him and his wife—a future of Emma being by his side, both of them supporting each other in any possible way, a future of loving Emma until his heart no longer beats in his chest. He’s also looking forward to telling the whole world he’s married to the most beautiful woman on the planet.
 “Hook, I should’ve known you’d be back here practicing for the next game right after your honeymoon.”
 Regina’s playful words surprise him before he can hit the ball in front of him, and he looks over, seeing her striding over to him holding a manilla envelope in her hands. Still gripping onto the club, he greets her with a blushing smile before returning his focus to the range in front of him. “So you’ve heard?” He swings and hits the ball, letting it cut through the air, and he watches it land before turning around to face Regina once more.
 The woman nods, closing the distance between them and standing in front of him. “Did you really think you could hide it from me?”
 “And let me guess who told you—Mary Margaret?”
 Regina laughs. “Come on Hook, you know she can’t keep a secret to save her life.”
 Killian nods in agreement. He likes to give his agent the benefit of the doubt, but she’s been known to let things slip out once in a while when she gets too excited. “So, what can I do you for?”
 Her face becomes more serious, concern washing over her features. “Look, Killian, I really wish you would have told me you were getting married to Miss Swan, because then I could’ve warned you.”
 “It’s Mrs. Swan-Jones now,” he corrects, lifting a brow as his smile dims; he suddenly has a bad feeling in the pit of stomach. “Warn me about what?”
 Regina sighs and peers down at the folder in her hands. “Well you know whenever I have a bad feeling about something, I can’t let it go. I end up turning to Sydney to gather information and ease my mind.”
 “Regina, who did you spy on?” he demands, growing irritated. He hates when she uses Sydney to do her dirty work. Hell, he hates that she always has to go digging up dirt in the first place. Everyone has a thing or two from the past they want to keep buried, so what gives this woman the right to go and uncover those things and stir up trouble?
 “Killian, I don’t know how to tell you this. Maybe we should go inside so you can sit down for this?” she suggests, glancing up at him.
 “I’m fine right here. Just tell me,” he says, agitation lacing his words. He doesn’t like to be interrupted during his practice, to be messed with, and Regina has a really bad habit of doing that.
 “Alright fine, I’ll be up front with you then. Emma Swan is not who you think she is.”
 Anger bubbles under his skin. This woman had the audacity to go and dig up information on his wife? “Bloody hell, Regina, I don’t wanna hear this.”
 “Oh believe me, you need to know this. The woman is playing you.”
 Killian’s already heard enough. He turns around, sliding his club into his bag. “I don’t believe this. I’m finally happy, and you have to go and try to spoil it for me. I’m leaving.” He picks up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder.
 “Wait, please Killian,” she begs, and he can sense the concern and urgency in her voice, but he doesn’t want to hear about it.
 “If you had concerns about her, you should’ve come talk to me, not go behind my back and—”
 “I know, but I didn’t. Instead I do what I do best. I panicked and had to find out more information. I’m sorry Killian, but none of that changes the fact that Miss Swan is a gold digger and Miss Byrd is not an interior decorator. Her real name is Milah Raven, and she's going to try and get you to have an affair. It’s all part of their scheme. They’re only trying to screw you over so they can run off with your money.”
 “Just stop,” he begs sharply. “I’ve heard enough. How can you just waltz over to me and accuse my wife of such things?”
 “Because I care about you. And I can prove to you that Miss Swan and Miss Raven have done this many times before.”
 He scoffs and looks her dead in the eye as he steps close to her with a threatening glare, speaking in a more quiet volume. “You don’t give a bloody damn about me. All you care about is your precious country club. Whatever you think you have on her, I want you to burn, or I will never come back to this place ever again, you got it?” he demands, his eyes clouding with rage.
 Regina nods, swallowing thickly. “Got it.”
 With that, he turns and walks away, angry and irritated and wanting to get into his vehicle and drive away as fast as he possibly can.
 Back at home, he can’t stop thinking about what Regina has told him. He peers down at his wedding ring, moving it around his finger. Is it possible Emma has been playing him this whole time?
 No, it can’t be true. His amazing Swan would never do that.
 Or would she?
 When he'd first met her, she wouldn't even go on a date with him. A month later, she's agreed to marry him? There's falling fast and hard for someone, but this was too fast, wasn't it?
 No, he refuses to believe his lovely Swan is anything other than who he knows her to be. Regina has all of her facts wrong.
 Killian guzzles down a bottle of water and goes upstairs, charging his phone which is only at five percent. He and Emma had engaged in some incredible morning lovemaking before she’d left, and he’d forgotten his phone battery was almost dead. Once his phone is connected to the charger, he takes a refreshing shower to rid the sweat from his skin after being out in the heat.
 As the hot water cascades over him, his wife floods his thoughts, and he looks forward to her coming home in the evening after she's packed some more of her things to bring over. He’d asked if he could help with anything, but she’d refused. Come to think of it, every time he’s asked about going over to her house, she always supplies him with an excuse, saying her apartment is messy or that she prefers being at his place. Now Regina has him thinking she’s living with this Milah person she had mentioned, but Killian refuses to let her words get inside his head.
 After his shower, he goes downstairs, catching the PGA at the Quicken Loans National on the telly when he hears a knock on the door. Turning off the game, he stands from his comfortable spot on the sofa, wondering who could be at the door. He knows it's not Emma because for one, she’s at work, and two, he's told her several times she doesn't have to knock when she comes over. They're married now, and she’s got a key, so why would she?
 He answers the door, seeing Trixy on the doorstep holding up a bottle of champagne. She’s also wearing a long sleeved blouse with her skirt, and he can’t believe she’s not too warm in this heat. It’s over a hundred degrees Fahrenheit outside.
 “Howdy!” she greats brightly.
 He scratches behind his ear, not recalling ever setting up an appointment with her today. “Oh uh, hi, Trixy. I wasn't expecting you...”
 Her mouth falls open a bit, and she lowers the bottle appearing to feel bad about dropping by. “Oh, didn't Emma tell you I was stopping by to show you some samples? She wanted you to decide which design to go with.”
 Killian shakes his head. “No, she must have forgot.”
 Trixy makes a gesture with her hand, waving off his words. “Well that's not a problem, I can come back another time. Sorry for botherin’ you,” she says, her words full of regret as she starts to turn around.
 “No, that's okay. Please come in.” He steps aside, allowing her to come into his home.
 “Thank you, Mr. Jones.”
 “Please, call me Killian.”
 Trixy smiles at that. “Alright. Thank you, Killian. And congratulations on getting married. Mrs. Jones told me over the phone. I brought you both a wedding gift.” She holds up the bottle of champagne again.
 “Thank you, lass, and actually it’s Mrs. Swan-Jones, but you can call her Emma.”
 Trixy flashes a coy grin. “Will do.”
 $*$*$
 Emma arrives at the apartment, carrying a bag of takeout from TooJay’s.
 “Milah, I brought food!” She sets the bag on the table and heads for her sister’s bedroom. “I really want to thank you for being understanding.” She reaches Milah’s room, opening the door. “I never planned on falling for—” Emma’s words die in her throat when she steps inside, finding the room empty. “Milah?”
 She leaves the bedroom and searches the rest of the apartment, including the balcony, but Milah’s nowhere to be seen. Her features fall, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
 Where the hell did she go?
 Emma came home just after two, like she'd promised.
 Maybe Milah went to the gym or to treat herself to a Swedish massage or Sanctuary Jewel facial spa. If so, why the hell didn't Milah invite her to go with?
 Emma walks over to the table and opens the bag, deciding she's too hungry to wait for Milah’s return. She removes her sandwich and picks up the bag to put Milah’s food in the refrigerator, but when she drags it from the table, a piece of paper slides off the surface, falling to the floor. Lifting a brow, Emma kneels down to pick it up and rises, turning the slip of paper over to see what it is.
 Her eyes instantly widen, face draining of blood when she reads Milah’s writing.
 Sorry sis. I have to finish the con. This is for your own good, so don't be mad. You’ll thank me later, trust me. You know where to find me.
 Love, Mi
 “Son of a bitch!”
 $*$*$
 Killian takes the bottle and makes his way to the kitchen, Trixy following behind him. “So I have to ask, how are you not burning up in long sleeves. I don’t care if you used to live in the dessert—it’s bloody hot outside,” he comments casually as they enter the kitchen.
 “Oh well, I put this on before I knew it was so hot,” she tells him with a laugh. Trixy starts to unbutton her blouse, but Killian reaches out, placing a hand on her arm to stop her. “Whoa, lass, what are you doing?”
 “Oh, I’m just cooling off a little. I shouldn’t have worn long sleeves,” she says, unfastening the first few buttons of her blouse. “The air conditioning in here feels nice, but the heat outside had me sweatin’ like a pregnant nun in church.” With the fourth button undone, Trixy reveals a little too much of her cleavage, so he averts his eyes from her and puts the champagne away. “Anywho,” Trixy begins, clearing her throat and getting down to business, “I've brought some sketches of different décor styles for you to look at.” Her eyes wander the room, spotting the kitchen table.
 “Aye, you can lay them out on the table," Killian says, pointing towards it and they make their way over.
 Offering a grin, Trixy takes out the first design from her black leather work bag, placing it on the surface. She sweeps her dark hair to one side, leaning over the table.
 Killian is only interested in the work she is doing, but he can’t help but notice her cleavage is being presented to him, and he starts to think about what Regina had said to him. He wonders if maybe she was right and if this is all a part of Emma’s and Milah’s ploy.
 Is this woman’s name actually Milah?
 No, he refuses to believe that. He refuses to believe his beautiful Swan would lie to him.
 “This one is a contemporary style.” The sketch is for the main room as she describes the features. “It gives the room more of a family feel, but it’s still simple and opens up the space without having too much of it.” The room is full of neutral colors, ranging from beige to brown, a wooden floor and a large area rug and sofa pillows with curvy lines and shapes.
 $*$*$
 “Dammit!”
 Emma hangs up the phone after her third attempt at calling Killian. She throws her phone in the passenger seat with a huff, wondering why he’s not answering.
 Keeping her eyes on the road, she’s seeing red as she drives faster than she has ever driven in her entire life. She's so stricken with fear and anger her knuckles are turning white as she grips the steering wheel. She shouldn't be worried. She knows Killian won't cheat on her; she has faith. She's more angry at Milah than she’s afraid of Killian having an affair.
 Emma waits at another goddamn red light, her patience wearing extremely thin. She’s still clutching to the steering wheel like it's a lifesource, hoping she can make it before Milah tries anything.
 How can her own fucking sister do this to her?!”
 Looking at the clock, she tries to steady her breathing, knowing she should be at Killian’s in ten minutes.
 The light turns green and Emma presses on the gas pedal, peeling out so fast she's sure to be there much sooner.
  $*$*$
 Trixy takes out the second design, placing it next to the other one. “This next one I think will fit the home you’ve invested here by the ocean, but it doesn't have as much of a family feel. It’s more of a coastal style or what we also refer to as the Hampton's style.” The sample is also for the living room and includes blacks and whites paired with blues and greens. The furnishings include a sleek, black and white sectional sofa, a simple, black coffee table and fireplace with a dark green rug, and blue and white striped patterns for pillows. “The room contains elements of wood, and the accessories are inspired by the sea to create a relaxed, comfortable environment for your family. So what are your thoughts?” Her words pull his eyes up from the samples and he looks up to see her smiling at him with a twinkle in her eye.
“Hmm.” Killian nods, scanning the designs, and running a hand along his stubbled jaw. “They’re both brilliant, and I think each of the designs are stunning in their own way. I do like the idea of the family design, although I’m leaning more towards the coastal design for obvious reasons,” he chuckles. “But I want to go with what fits more with my wife’s style.”
 Trixy nods in understanding, pursing her lips in thought. “You really love her don’t you?”
 “Of course I do. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have married her.”
 “Of course.” She stares into his eyes, speaking softly. “It’s really a shame though.”
 “Why do you say that?” He swallows thickly, praying to the gods above that Regina was not right.
 “Because another great guy is off the market. Emma’s a very lucky gal to have snagged a man like you, Mr. Jones,” she says sincerely, reaching out to place a hand on his arm.
 He looks down at the gesture and lifts a brow, unsure of how to respond to that.
 Trixy’s eyes widen when she realizes what she’s done, and she quickly removes her hand. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Jones, I didn’t mean to—”
 “It’s alright, lass,” he assures, seeing the red in her cheeks; he knows the gesture was unintentional and that she’s embarrassed about it. “And I told you, it’s Killian.”
 “I'm sorry,” she repeats sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and biting her bottom lip, looking away. “Anyway, I agree with your choice, and yes, you also have to be considerate of what Emma will like, too. This shall be a couple’s decision, so I’ll tell you what, even though Emma trusts your judgment, I think I should come back when both of ya’ll are here to decide together.”
 She leans over the table and picks up her samples a little too quickly. When she spins around, the sketches fall from her hands, one sliding away from her. “Oh mah, I’m such a clodhopper!” She bends over, trying to kneel down to pick up the one within her reach, but her skirt is too tight and she ends up falling to her hands and knees to gather up the sample. If he were any less of a gentleman he probably would’ve looked as the fabric rode up her arse, but he is only interested in his wife.
 “It’s not a problem, Trixy.” He bends down to help her pick up the other sketch as she apologizes profusely.
 “Oh lordy,” she grumbles as he rises and returns to her, extending his hand. She takes it, using him as an anchor to stand up. “Thank you so much, Killian.”
 “It's not a problem,” he assures, noticing she’s still clutching onto his hand.
 “You’re a lifesaver.” Her eyes meet his and he can hear the hitch in her breath. This whole time he’s tried to convince himself that her touches were accidental. Now he’s starting to see that everything she has done since she's arrived, and even during their first meeting when she'd tried to rub his crotch, has been intentional. “Well, I should get goin’ now.”
 Killian peels his eyes away and peers down at their joined hands. She takes the hint and starts to release her grip, but when she does, he can’t help but notice the sleeve of her blouse slipping past her wrist, part of a tattoo peeking out. He tugs the cuff away from her wrist to get a better look.
 It's just as he suspects—a raven tattoo.
 “Killian!” he hears Emma call from the front door, but before he can process what is actually happening, Trixy is launching herself at him and smashing her lips into his.
 He quickly pushes Trix—Milah (or whoever the bloody hell she really is) away from him, anger burning inside of him as he rips himself from the thralls of her arms.
 “How could you do this to me?!”
 He turns his head to catch Emma witnessing the entire scene, complete devastation in her features.
 “Oh Mrs. Jones, I'm so sorry,” Milah says in her fake Texan drawl.
 Killian tightens his jaw, eyes fleeting between these two vixens who have set him up. He is heated. “Oh please, spare me the act. I know this is all part your scheme,” he snaps at both of them.
 “I wasn't talking to you,” Emma says to him and steps up to the other woman. “I told you the con was over, but you didn't listen to me!” she hollers at the brunette, a ferocious storm brewing in her emerald depths. “I trusted you!”
 Killian is completely baffled as he glances between them. Why is Emma angry at Milah if this was all a set up?
 “And I trusted you to make this work, but you failed!” Milah shouts back at her, just as furious and no longer using the fake accent.
 “I told you I can't help how I feel, but you put the con before your own sister! You're nothing but a selfish—”
 “Excuse me,” he cuts her off briskly. “I don't mean to interrupt this sisterly squabble, but what the devil is going on?!” he demands, breaking up their feud.
 Emma looks at him, regret and tears swarming her eyes. “I'm sorry, Killian. I wanted to stop it, but she went behind my back.” Emma points at her sister accusingly, and she's about to say something else, but her eyes blow wide in realization, and she glances back at Killian. “Wait, how did you know?”
 “Regina told me,” he snarls and sets his death glare on the brunette.
 Emma closes her eyes, breathing out, “Regina,” through clenched teeth.
 “And I didn't want to believe her, but she said your name was Milah Raven, then I saw that the tattoo on your wrist is a raven, and it's on the same spot where Emma has a tattoo of a swan. Plus, you tried to kiss me when Emma bursted inside, so it wasn’t difficult to put the bloody pieces together,” he mutters spitefully.
 “Killian, I'm so sorry, I didn't want to go through with it, but Milah wouldn't listen.” Emma tries to approach him and touch his shoulder, but he backs away. “Killian, you have to believe me.”
 That's when he explodes with the rage he feels inside. “You lied to me and tricked me into marrying you! Why the fuck would I believe you?!’
 “Because my feelings for you are real!” she tries to reassure him in a pleading voice, her words cracking as tears slide down her cheeks.
 He looks at her with a steely glare. “I don’t even know who you are.”
 “Yes, you do, Killian! My name is Emma Swan, I used to be an orphan like you and I work at Marco’s Italian Tuxedos. I've been more real with you than any other man I've ever met!”
 “No, to me you're nothing but a gold-diggin’ charlatan.”
 She swallows audibly, her lips trembling and another tear escaping her eyes. “Not anymore,” she vows, but Killian can’t listen to another word.
 His heart is shattered into a million pieces, anger and rage replacing the love he’d held for her. She is not the beautiful Swan he thought he knew. “I want you both out of my home,” he speaks quietly, but his words are just as deadly.
 Milah doesn't hesitate, and grabs her bag, storming out quietly, but Emma stays, trying to convince him she actually loves him.
 “Killian, please, I'm so sorry.” More tears are streaming down her face, and he can't help but still see her as his wife who's in pain, but he has to stay strong.
 “I said leave,” he tells her again, pointing towards the door, as much as it hurts. “I don't ever want to see you again.”
 “But we’re married,” she chokes out, the fear of losing him evident in her voice, but he couldn't care less. She’s hurt him badly and he can’t find it within him to have sympathy for her.
 Killian’s eyes darken as he stares into hers, wondering how she could do this to him? How could someone be so cruel? “Our wedding was a sham,” Killian states, his words heavy with the hurt and pain he feels. He storms past her, rushing to the front door and yanking it open, his voice growing louder and harsher as she follows behind him. “Now get the fuck out!”
 His booming voice makes her jump, but she complies, her head down as she makes her way towards the entrance, sniffling and wiping her tears. She digs into her purse and grabs her keys, taking off the one for the cabin and holds it up for him. He snatches it from her grasp as she looks up at him one last time before she goes. “I'm truly sorry, Killian,” she whispers softly.
 “You can get your belongings later when I'm not here,” he says flatly. “I'll have someone here to let you in. But don't be surprised if your things are floating in the ocean when you come back.”
 Emma simply nods and proceeds sluggishly out onto the porch. She walks down the steps and heads towards her car, looking back at him once more, eyes red and puffy and cheeks stained with tears. She enters her car as he steps inside, flinging the door shut, his heart aching and his breathing crippled, emotions washing over him like a tidal wave.
 He can't believe in one day his world has completely crumbled apart between his fingertips. He can't believe the love of his life was never really his love at all. The entire thing was a bloody joke. He feels like such a bloody fool; he should've just listened to Regina. He should've never rolled the dice on Emma.
 He should've never followed his heart in the first place.
A/N: Okay, you can throw things at me now
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Tagging: @mayquita @freakassbuthunter @libbcoxnet-blog @goldengirlschildhood @courtorderedcake @florenzu @marcella2727  @veryverynotgood @i-would-cross-realms-4-her @hooklineandswan @wonderfullycarriedaway @0swald-c0bblep0t @cs-forlife @andiirivera @snotelek @capswantrue @nikkiemms @capswantrue @swansong12 @lg-campbell @lassluna @followbatb @harshini01 @betchesgetshitdone @coliferoncer @ultraluckycatnd @resident-of-storybrooke @kinkyhiddlesgirl @teamhook
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the-fiction-witch · 6 years ago
Text
Doctor And Witch P10
MOVIE: MAZE RUNNER AU X SLEEPY HOLLOW COUPLE: NEWT X READER RATING: SWEET + SAD
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When I woke I felt awful my nose full of yuck, my stomach doing flips and my head hurting so much “Urrrrr” I sigh in pain
“I know Isaac I know” y/n laughed coming up the stairs and bringing up some more soup
“Uhhh It hurts” I groan in pain
“Here” she says putting the soup down on the side table for me “I put a note in the office window no work today” she smiled “and if you’re good I’ll make you some more cupcakes” she smiled
“Thank you” I groan
“You’re welcome, rest” she says
“I can’t, Not without you being here” I tell her trying to take her hand but she moved away
“I know, but you really need to rest” she smiled pressing a tiny kiss to my lips “and try not to think about the pain” she smiled
“easy for you to say” I tell her before she got up and wondered off to do some things I shut my eyes trying to ignore the pain but it only got worse It felt like all my organ’s where eating themselves from the inside and like my blood was boiling in my veins, my saliva feeling dry in my mouth, sweat pouring off me everywhere but I felt ice cold when I next opened my eyes y/n sat over my bed her dress different from the last time I saw her and she looked different she looked scared, panicked and like she had been this way for a while I tried to speak my words slurred and my voice seeming breathy “Y/n-y/n How long..” I stutter
“Three days, and you’re getting worse” she explains
“I can’t- I was” I begin
“I know, you close your eyes and more time seems to pass, you’re getting worse by the minute,” she said sadly
“What’s happening to me?” I ask her
“I uh….” She began
“Please…just tell me, what’s wrong with me? Describe it” I ask her
“Your skin is going pale, your veins are going purple, your eyes…their not brown any more, where going grey, your always burning up but your blood is running cold” she explained
“That’s…That’s not possible” I groan “How’s is that possible? What’s happening to me?” I ask her
“The same thing happening to everyone, it’s what happens I told you. It’s dark magic” she explained
“What’s happening to the others?” I ask her
“The same as you, they all came to see me, now their lives are in danger they don’t seem to fear me as much any more now they know a darker power is making threats on their lives” she explained
“Y/n-Y/n” I stutter
“Shhh…” she says
“Y/n-“I begin
“Isaac, Rest. The more you try the more the spell will immobilise you” she explained
“How likely is it I will survive?” I ask her
“It’s certain you will” she smiled giving me a little kiss which made me feel a lot better “I’m afraid I can’t heal everyone, but… I will do my best to heal who I can” she explained
“Are you alright?” I ask her
“Don’t worry about me” she smiled lightly stroking my cheek
“But I do, how are you not Ill?” I ask her
“My magic protects me” she smiled “and it is protecting you, you would be much closer to death by now” she explained “here” she said putting something I didn’t see what but it felt like string around my neck and as soon as It was around me I felt a cold stone on my skin that instantly made me feel so much better but as I felt better I noticed her skin seemed paler then before
“y/n…what did you do?” I ask her
“Nothing, rest You’ll feel better soon” she explained before rushing off somewhere else I felt so much stronger so I moved putting my bare feet onto the cold wooden floor pushing myself up from the bed for a moment almost falling my knees felt weak slowly I managed to lean against the dresser looking into the mirror hung on the wall she was write my skin had gone deathly pale, my veins a strange purple or even black in places, my eyes now beginning to clear and I noticed my clothes had changed from last I remember I had only a small white shirt that had been undone a lot and my pants that remained the same but I saw it on the string around my neck y/n had placed a beautiful light blue stone that seemed to glow white in the darkness with every glow my skin regained Its colour and my vein’s ran their rightful red I felt so much better almost normal until I heard it a sudden thumb downstairs as if someone had fallen
“y/n!” I shouted as I ran and there she laid at the bottom of the staircase her skin as white as mine had been her veins having taken the colour mine were and her eyes…her beautiful green eyes. A clouded white “y/n! No!” I shouted going to her side taking her pulse it was so slow like it was failing so I picked her up and laid her in our bed her eyes closed and her head resting on the pillow for a moment she almost seemed as if she were simply asleep I sat by her bedside doing everything I could but nothing seemed to work I sat and I waited for her to wake just a movement just for her eyes to open even and inch…but nothing “y/n please… Just wake up…tell me what to do?” I ask her “I can’t lose you”
“Isaac?” she asked her voice so weak and empty like every letter brought her pain to say
“y/n…Please, please tell me what to do? I don’t know what I can do” I ask her
“There is nothing… I Took the Illness from everyone they should all be healing now” she said weakly
“What about you?” I ask her “what will happen to you?” I ask her
“I have taken the illness from the others, I will die” she said
“No! Please y/n please there must be something, ANYTHING!” I ask her
“I’m sorry Isaac, I love you” she smiled before turning her head on the pillow and her eyes shutting, her breathing stopped and her pulse slowed to a stop
“NO! y/n! NO!” I scream “y/n, PLEASE! PLEASE!” I scream crying
“Isaac” I heard it was a voice her voice, it sounded like it was singing that little song from the first day I arrived in this little place that song the song she always was humming that song. I heard it now but how? I thought the song was… her? “Isaac?” it sang against sounded so clear like it was coming from somewhere very close to me somewhere almost close enough to touch at that moment I looked to y/n’s stone she had placed around my neck the stone that seemed to heal me I glowed now a dark blue and green “Isaac?” the voice sang again it sounded as if it came from the stone
“Y/n-y/n?” I stutter in disbelief
“Isaac?” she giggled I then took closer notice of her stone it was a rounded stone with two holes each had a half of the string around it
“This? This is what saved me?” I ask “and this is what kills you? To not have it?” I ask “then neither of us have it” I say breaking the stone in half it snapping so easily and only a few little bits of dust breaking from the middle and the song fell silent and the stone stopped It’s glow all but one half one half remained with the blue and green glow the other remained the same so I laid the half that glowed with her setting it in her cold lifeless hand and then the song began again this time more peaceful less like a call more like a joy I shut my eyes savouring that song already missing her voice until I felt it warm familiar lips pressed against mine and I kissed her back quickly moving my hand to her face and her hair so happy she was alright our kisses so deep and passionate “Oh y/n, I thought I had lost you forever” I tell her slightly pulling away to see her beautiful eyes
“Not yet, you’re not getting rid of me that easily Isaac” she giggled
“I missed you so much” I laugh “But how did I?” I begin
“When you split the crystal, my spirit went to one half, when you gave that half to me my spirit returned the crystal is not as powerful now, but. We are both protected” she explained
“I will give it back to you, when the danger is over I will return it to you” I tell her
“But why?” she asked
“I would never be happy knowing you were not as safe as you could be” I explain to her
“I will make you your own” she smiled “Maybe in time as…a wedding gift” she smiled
“I would like that” I smile giving her a little kiss
“The rain seems to have finally stopped” she smiled glancing to the window I looked to and it was the rains slowly but surely slowed until nothing but a few lingering spots remained
“Should we?” I begin
“In the morning give the water time to clear and time for us to get ready” she smiled getting up
“Where are you going?” I ask her “after what happened last time you went off by yourself, I’m not letting you out of my sight again” I tell her
“Alright, if you insist” she smiled
“I do insist” I smirk kissing her again trying to push her down onto the bed but she wouldn’t move my hands moving down from her waist to her hips and she pulled away
“What are you doing Isaac?” she giggled
“What did you think it was doing y/n?” I laugh at her
“I don’t know that’s why I asked” she giggled
“Well… I was uh” I stutter
“Well?” she giggled crossing her arms
“I was going to make love to you again tonight” I smirk kissing down her neck before returning to her lips moving my tongue across her bottom lip and her mouth opened allowing my tongue to explore her mouth moving my hands down to unto my pants which made her stop putting her hand on my chest to push me back slightly
“Isaac, what in the world is you doing?” she giggled
“I was going to make love to you” I reply shyly
“Isaac” she giggled resting her head on my chest looking up at me “by this time tomorrow night we will be husband and wife, tomorrow night will be our wedding night can’t you wait until then?” she asked
“I just thought that-“I began
“Wouldn’t tomorrow night be much more special?” she asked kissing up my chest and around my neck
“Your right” I sigh
“I’m always right” she giggled doing my pants back up for me
“You always are” I smile giving her another kiss “we should rest, it’s been an stressful day, and we have a big day tomorrow” I tell her
“Your right, we should rest” she smiled getting up going behind her screen as normal to change into her nightie and I changed too before we both laid in bed exhausted from such a rough few days but both excited for tomorrow I gave her a little kiss which she returned before we both fell into an exhausted and happy sleep.
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betweensceneswriter · 6 years ago
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Chemistry Test, Part 5: What the Fronk?
Lallybroch Library Prompt Exchange!
Prompt #33 Modern AU: Claire auditions for a role opposite Jamie who has been cast as the male lead in a TV drama.
Previously on Chemistry Test: Part 4 - Sexting
Master Post
     She’d barely come in the door of their apartment when her phone started ringing.  
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Thematically NSFW, but no pics
  His picture, his name. Her heart started to pound.  
    Can I call you in a few? She texted quickly, thrusting her phone back in her bag as Frank poked his head out of the kitchen.
    “You didn’t call last night,” he said.  “I thought I’d hear about how it went.”
    “I got the part!” she exclaimed, trying to decide how enthusiastic to be.  
    She’d spelled it out for him before leaving for the audition and chemistry test. They weren’t dating, just roommates.  They’d been good friends.  But with a life change and a cross country move, it would just be easier to cut ties.  Friends, nothing more.  And Frank had agreed; he hadn’t fought her on it.  
    But tonight he was cooking dinner.  Lasagna, from the smell of it.  
    And god, he was pouring the wine.  Already?
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    She really became suspicious when he came out of the kitchen carrying a glass of wine for her.  He was wearing that outfit she loved—the khakis and button-down shirt.  She’d always been a sucker for a guy in a button-down shirt, especially when it wasn’tt fully buttoned.  Which was what made it so ironic that James Fraser had texted her THAT picture.  It made her hotter than any creepy bathroom mirror muscle photo would.
    “Oh, Frank, that’s sweet of you, but not yet!” she said, waving her hand to indicate she wouldn’t take the wine yet.  “I feel cruddy after a day of flying.  I think I’m going to go take a shower.”
    She smiled gratefully at him before she turned her back to him and walked down the hall.  But she’d barely gotten inside her room when her finger was on her phone, finding Jamie’s number, tapping the green phone icon.
    “Pick up, pick up,” she begged, and was rewarded when a deep voice answered.
    “Aye?”
    “I’m alone, and I’m going to take my clothes off,” she murmured. “What do you want to do to me?”
    “Jamie!” a gruff voice called out, nearly blasting her eardrum.  “Someone you’ve named ‘my future wife’ on your phone just called you! And she says she’s going to be naked soon and wonders what you would like to do to her?”
    “Murtagh, you fuckin’ bastard.  Why did you answer my phone?”  Another deep voice, the voice she’d expected to answer the first time approached. “Damn you, man, gaaaaaah!”  He ended his tirade with a tortured sound, and then she heard the crackling sound of the phone changing hands, loud footsteps, and a door slamming shut, as well as somewhat heavy breathing on the other end of the line.
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    She was confused.  She was mortified.  She was curious.
    “My future wife?” she asked.
    “You’re going to be naked soon?” he said.
    Silence.
    And then she giggled and he laughed and all was well.
    “I don’t have to be naked,” she said.
    “And you don’t have to be my future wife,” he added. “God, that was embarrassing.”
    “I’m beyond mortified,” she said.  “Was that your father?”
    “Godfather, more like,” Jamie answered.  “Thankfully. He’s the one who told me about sex, bought me my first condoms.  You didna horrify him.  He was chortling away when he handed the phone off to me.”
    “I expected as much,” she said. “Well, maybe we should talk later.”
    “Why can’t we talk now?” Jamie asked.  “I’ve missed you today.”
    “I saw you like, eight hours ago when you dropped me at the airport,” Claire responded, shaking her head as she kicked off her flats and lay down on the bed.
    “Yes, but we’ve barely gotten to know each other,” Jamie said.  “Except, you know, in the biblical sense.”
    Claire laughed.  “Well then, Jamie, what would you like to know?”
        She looked different, Frank thought.  Brighter, somehow.  Alert.  He didn’t know if that boded well for his plans for the night or not.
    After all, they’d had the talk.  They were apartment mates.  Sometimes more when they’d been drunk or bored, or when they watched that one show together where she got worked up at the sight of that one actor��'the ginger giant’—as Frank called him. But they never slept in the same bed, and there were no assumptions, no presumptions.
    But he had presumed he would sleep with her tonight. He knew what she liked.  Italian food, French bread, which she knew she couldn’t have often or she’d ruin her model-perfect body.  French wine.  
    And the offer of a back rub. She was so tired, after all.
    And after he massaged her shoulders for a while, she might moan a little, might sigh, “God, that feels so gooooood,” and then she’d take her shirt off.  Bra on, of course.  It just felt better with bare skin.  And he’d continue the massage but increase his range.  Shoulders, but then down the arms.  Spine, but then down her sides, down toward her hips.
    And then he’d say, “We’ve got the massage oil—would you like that?”
    She would nod, and she’d lie down.  On the carpeting in the front room, or if he was lucky, on the bed.  
    She didn’t want the massage oil to get on her lacy bra, of course, so she’d take it off and toss it away, and he’d see the sweet swell of the side of her breast as she lay back down.
    If he did that well, she might say, “God, I had a rough week.  Do you think you could do my legs?”
    Of course he would agree, and turn his back like the gentleman he was, and she’d pull off her shorts or jeans or skirt or leggings and lie down in her adorable panties.
    He had to play dumb with Claire.  He couldn’t make the first move, or she’d be off like a shot.  He had to wait.  
    Until she spread her legs wider and arched her back slightly which rounded her ass.  He would have to wait until he massaged up her inner thigh and her breath caught.
    If she sighed, “Oh, Frank,” he knew she was close.
    And if she rolled over, revealing the perfect slope of her breast, he knew he’d made it.
      God, he was hard right now. He wished he was brave enough to go into her room and join her in the shower.
    But the way she’d looked at him when he reached his hand out holding the wine, a chill had cut through his heart.
    It was really, truly, over now. Claire had fallen in love. And not with him.
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    Claire wasn’t in the shower. She was still on her bed, her phone to her ear, laughing at Jamie’s story of growing up in Scotland. Being a naughty boy in Catholic school.  The nun who rapped his knuckles with a ruler.  Serving as an altar boy.
    And he was laughing at her stories of snow days in Boston when school was cancelled, sledding and snowball fights and kissing Max Jensen out behind the tool shed.
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    And as they talked, Claire’s eyes grew heavier and heavier, til finally she sighed and told him she was going to fall asleep.
    “Get ready for bed,” said Jamie.  “Nighty. No undies.”
    At his words, Claire felt more alert. Her heart thumping almost audibly, she did as he instructed.
    “Can I see?” he asked.
    She hit the Skype button and saw his beautiful face, blue eyes shining as he looked at her.  She shyly held the phone so he could see her, the light blue chemise with thin satin straps.  She showed him her bed with its white covers, elegant head board and foot board.
    “Okay,” said Jamie. “Now I’m going to tell you what to do.” His voice was low and husky.
    “Yes?” Claire asked, her voice tremulous.
    “Go to sleep.”
On to Part 6 - “Eau de ‘Someone’s Getting Laid Tonight!’”
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peaches-of-1 · 6 years ago
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BTS Demon AU: 666 So Fresh- Chapter 7
Chapter Warnings: Drinking an unknown substance
Pairing: Taehyung x Zula (OC) x Yoongi
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Related aesthetics: Character type | Outfits
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This would be their first big party since Awakening. Before all that, however, Yoongi saw how dangerous Zula’s uncontrolled powers could be. She could literally suck the air out of the room with her wind-based powers. That’s why the three were standing in the middle of the desert and she was wearing knee and elbow pads.
“You don’t even have my same powers, so how are you going to teach me how to use them?” Zula yelled to Yoongi.
The men were standing a few yards away as not to feel the brunt of her attacks. She was already strong on her own. They saw that when her anger was targeted towards Jungkook. If Yoongi hadn’t put them into Hiding, the car alarms would’ve gone off and brought so much unnecessary attention. Since doing this would ultimately make her even stronger, they didn’t want to be anywhere near the source...aka her.
Yoongi yelled back, “Most powers have similar technique. Strong emotions. Tap into them and see if you can turn your powers on and off.”
Zula looked at her hands and scratched her exposed thigh, her shawl fringe tickling it. “How am I supposed to do that?”
The man shrugged, “I don’t know! They’re your feelings!”
“You’ve got this, jagi!” Tae yelled, sitting on the roof of the car. “I know you can do it! Fighting!”
She giggled and felt a bit lighter, like literally.
“Zuzu, snake!” Yoongi pointed near her feet.
A blast of air left her palm and attacked the bare ground. No snake, but a shallow hole where it would have bin. Her hand was now red and scaly with black talons. It made her jump back out of surprise even as the claws and scales receded into a regular human hand once more.
“My...my hand! It--! What the fuck was that?”
“That’s your true form. Those are also why I grabbed your hands before that Jungkook boy could catch them. Now,” Yoongi told her to think of a strong negative or positive feeling.
Tae did the same as he played with his own hands, imagining some element sprouting from his fingertips. He had so many negative feelings. None of them were strong anymore. As for positive feelings, only one: Her. He loved her. A spark lit between his fingers when he snapped.
Zula felt her feet lift off the ground. This was what she had imagined love to feel like all her life which was odd because that was exactly what feeling she used.
“What are you thinking about?” He asked with a gummy smile at her levitation.
She looked at them, “You guys, how much I love you two despite how short we’ve known each other. It’s different types of love, but still.” She gasped when she saw Taehyung on the car, flame coming out of his fingers. “Wow, Tae!”
He smiled and Yoongi looked back, also surprised. “Fast learners! That’s great! Now, let’s see if you can weaponize it. Both of you, arim for that tree.”
Tae tried hard to aim for the designated tree but couldn’t get more than a five inch flame to escape his grasp. As for Zula, only a hard wave of wind emanated from her body instead of a focused blast like before. Was it because she added pain to the mix of feelings that kept her afloat? Either way, the pulse knocked Taehyung off the car. She flinched as he fell to the ground, making her return to Earth as well.
He laughed and dusted off his mullet. Yoongi decided that was enough training for the day, and  thought it best to start getting ready for Hoseok’s club tonight. They drove home and Zula asked why Tae had two powers, immortality and fire. The full blooded Hell Spawn told her that demons had layers of abilities. There were some that could be honed from an outside source like the elemental aspects. Others could not like his Sight and Tae’s inability to die.
That meant she had another power or a couple of other powers still untapped inside of her. Zula was excited to see what it would be.
Taehyung wore baggy jeans and a large patchwork denim jacket over a white t-shirt. Yoongi pulled on light colored ripped jeans and a yellow dress shirt. He completed the look with a black ribbon tie under the collar. It was a sunny thing to wear, but the bright color fit his mood. He was happy to have these two lost kids around him. Experiencing all sorts of discovery with them warmed his stone heart. He had bleached his hair today as well, the smell still lingering in the bathroom.
Zula wore a pink nightie-like Prada dress with pink feathers on the hem along with sheer pink stockings. She pulled her hair into two cornrows and Tae picked a floral bucket hat to complete his look. He was still shocked sometimes when he saw that lipstick no longer existed on the many mirrors of his home.
Getting into the club was easy since Yoongi seemed to know everyone. Once at the bar, Zula was going to order something normal, but the new blonde wasn’t having any of it. He requested a pink sparkling concoction for the three of them. She eyed it suspiciously.
“C’mon, Zuzu. It even matches your outfit.”
Tae watched as the glitter swirled around the fancy heart shaped glass, “If you try it, I will.”
On the count of three, they all took a sip of the mystery mix. The drink was sweet and almost like soda. It felt like it was bubbling through every vein in their bodies instead of headed straight to the stomach. A sour put pleasant tinge was the aftertaste on their tongues. It wasn’t bad, so they ordered another round.
Soon all of them were on the dance floor, music moving through them like a trance. Zula raged and closed her eyes as she danced between her two boys. Yoongi had a whole bottle of the sparkling pink elixir in his hand and downed it every once in a while. A random girl with short purple hair was her current dance partner.
Their arms held each other close as they giggled like the shy sapphics they were. The girls shared kisses whenever they felt like it. Zula couldn’t remember the last time she had been so flirty with another female. She was cute and a Hell Spawn from Lust’s layer. Her eyes were a twinkling pink. They shared another smooch when a strange pulse suddenly stopped Zula’s movements. Her eyes started to glitter. She could feel it. Zula turned her head and met glowing purple ones that looked at her from across the room.
Zula was intrigued, so she kissed the blue haired demon one last time, “Catch you later, beautiful.” and set her free to dance with anyone else who caught her fancy.
It was like he was calling her without words. He sat on the edge of the stage and combed back his raven black hair with fingers sporting a polish just as dark. Sweat was dripping from every part of his body. Clinging to his hair. Zula stopped centimeters away from his face.
He gave her a smirk and then kissed her hand, “Jimin.”
“Zula.” She responded breathlessly.
Jimin stood and wrapped a hand around her waist, “May I have this dance?”
She nodded and held his hand. Jimin’s face was pretty. There were no human words to describe the beauty his angles held. The two slowly rotated in the pulsing beat. He leaned close to her ear in order to be heard above the ruckus.
He caressed her chin, “You don’t see many Demi Spawn in a place like this without supervision, but I’m glad that I found someone like me to dance with.”
“Someone like you?” She asked.
He chuckled, “Can’t you smell it? The human blood mingled with the beautiful poison of demonic ichor? Take a deep breath.”
Zula inhaled deeply and smelled it, the scent that belonged to her mother. Sweet and kind, innocent but not ignorant. It was the same as her classmates. Her teachers. Everyone she knew growing up. It was mingled with something dark. Purple, rich. The demon side of things. It was slightly familiar but very different than anything she had ever smelled before.
“Wow.” Zula breathed. “I’ve never experienced something like that before. I didn’t know I could do that.”
“Really? How recently were you Awakened?” His voice was beautiful and strong and soft like a song that you learned long ago.
“Four days ago.”
Jimin chuckled, resting his forehead on her shoulder, “I apologize, but that’s amazing. It explains why it was so easy to get you over here, though.”
Zula hummed slightly, “What about you? When did you know you were half of Hell?”
“Since I was born. My mother was beautiful and from Vanity. She took pride in herself as well as her family. Very strict about how we presented ourselves.”
“I’ve just realized this now, but it was my father who was from Lust. I thought it would be my mother. It explains why he had so many ‘friends’ when I was little. Taught me how to dress and how not to take shit from anyone.”
He smiled, “I like you already, Zula. However, since you’re new, I guess you don’t know how to Charm like other Lusties.”
She shook her head, “Nope.”
“Want me to teach you?”
As soon as he said this, Zula’s body started to heat up. She closed her eyes. It almost felt like she was on fire. Her breath got shallow. There was a second when her eyes fluttered open to see a shocked look on Jimin’s face.
“What?” She asked.
“You stopped me.” He smiled. “Your powers are more instinct based. I apologize, but I was trying to feed on you since I thought it’d be easy. I’m really glad I was wrong.”
Zula scoffed and cupped his cheek, “Maybe ask permission next time.”
Jimin shook his head, “There’s no way I’m doing that again. You are too strong.”
She laughed, and he held her tighter. Her stocking covered thigh making contact with his tight leather pants. It was this moment when Zula realized she had no idea where the other boys were.
“I should go. I came here with friends and should get back to them.”
“That you should, but aren't I better than whoever they are?”
“Of course!” Zula said without thinking and then kissed his cheek. “I will come back tomorrow. I hope I can see you again.”
Jimin said that she would and let her go. As Zula left, she suddenly felt like she had snapped out of a trance. She stumbled a bit when she felt her head. Yoongi said Tae had gone to the bathroom but had been gone for a while. The two went to the stalls and called out for him.
He made a noise and the door opened. He appeared to be peeing but was just slowly pouring a bottle of something.
“I’ve been standing here for 10 minutes. It doesn't become empty.”
Zula took the bottle from him and took a few gulps. She then gave the bottle to Yoongi and slammed her lips into Tae who happily accepted the taste of pink lipstick and sweat and cherry chapstick.
“You taste like that girl you were making out with earlier.” He growled between kisses.
Zula smiled and was going to ask Yoongi if he wanted to join, but he was gone. The two continued to make out in the bathroom stall until they passed out on the floor. Yoongi woke them up by nudging them with his boot.
His face had red, blue, and dark red smudges on it. “Hey, love birds, let’s get going. I’m ready to go.”
They nodded and stood. Since they were demons at a demon bar, they wouldn't get hangovers. Taehyung had makeup smeared all over him as well. Scratches as well. Yoongi smiled at them.
“Ah, to be young again.”
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About the blogger
I was tagged by my kung fu fighter, @astrangegirlsmind
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Nicknames: I can’t think of any nicknames I have anymore. During my 12 year stint in prison I WAS known as Fireball 
Gender: Once, twice, three times a lady
Star sign: Aquarius, the apparent nutter of the astrological signs
Height: 5″1
Time: 1:39am I felt very ill today so will be making a sheer mockery of what could be a standard tag game
Birthday: February 8th
Favorite bands: I still love The Beatles. Uhm, I really don’t settle on one. I just play all sorts in a mix. Old time Dir En Grey.
Favorite solo artists: I do love a bit of Rob Zombie. Again though, a bit of a ton of genres are what I play. I often throw Spotify on and that’s that. Rock and instrumentals are my favourite genres but I play all sorts. Pop and american gothic stuff probably the most after the previously mentioned.
Song stuck in your head: Boogie by Brockhampton. It won’t leave me alone.It won’t let me live.
Last movie: Au Secours! , a french film from 1924. It’s sort of horror but mostly batshit. It’s only about 24 mins though, last full length feature would be earlier in the day I watched The Bridge and feeling dizzy and nauseous as I do I’m still filled with the raw anger of ares himself after I found some shit out shortly after it ended. Going in blind to films is not often a good idea when you’re me as I rarely pick a normal one.
Last TV show: The Terror I think. My head feels like it’s going to pop off and go WHEEEEE round the room so we’re going to settle on that. 
Why did you create your blog: Because there was a girl on here who posted really good John Lennon and Beatles photos that I’d share with a friend at the time and I thought  I’d join tumblr so I could see them all easier.
What do you post/reblog: Why have I started using full stops at the end of segments. I don’t feel I did that at the beginning of this post. As for the question things that appeal to my interests. I used to be much better at inclusions of history things but pretty much now I just come in and throw some cute things and a man of my heart at the wall then leave.
Last thing you googled: Horror subscription boxes uk. Guess how well that search went. I also tried to find a history one just sort of angling and they are just little kid educational boxes. I’d love to try one of the true crime boxes. Thing about true crime though is there is a massive chance of walking over the line of bad taste with the contents. I’m interested in true crime but I’m only 3% a nutter and therefore don’t want to have to explain to a visitor why there is a pogo the clown art print shoved in a drawer.
Other blogs: I am small and have no money and only one blog.
Why url: Sirius Black is my lad and he needs a tummy rub. Well his dog form does but I’m sure human form Sirius would be alright about it.
I follow: I genuinely don’t know
Followers: Just under 800 I am pretty sure.
Average hours of sleep: Human sleep, like 4-6 hours. Depression sleep, all the hours I can force unconsciousness on myself.
Lucky number: I have never been a person who was very lucky in anything but I always gravitate to 8, I guess because it’s my birthday
Instrument: It’s gone 2am now and I’m sitting staring at the screen trying to think if I ever played an instrument. I can’t play anything but I DO WANT TO TELL YOU about the time in music when Ben played the pink panther theme on the keyboard across from me and I was just delighted.
What are you wearing: Cardi over a nightie
Dream job: THE WORLD’S MOST RESPECTED HORROR HISTORIAN [AND THE CROWS CHEERS]
Dream trip: Back to Canada, Scotland, Ireland, Bavaria specially to see Neuschwanstein, America to annoy friends and buy nonsense.
Favourite food: I love rice but feel even more than that I have eaten enough chickens in my lifetime to be seen as some sort of evil cryptid of chicken world mythos.
Favorite song rn: Boogie by Brockhampton. Problem with me is and always has been I hardly ever listen to lyrics, it’s the beat and whatever that I like. So they might be saying something terrible, I don’t know. Love the beat though.
Last book I read: I genuinely can’t remember, depression and the cornea transplant just wrecked any kind of relationship I have with reading but I still buy books.
Top 3 universes: I had to go back and see what Jules had put as I was like ???? for this one but I see now. The only thing I could think of was superhero things get called universes. Thing is all the books I read are historical and history is a terrible place and no-one would want to live there...And I watch historical things like The Terror so let’s just say the one universe that is my top one is the one where I get a whole carrot cake.
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champofpallet · 7 years ago
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Not The same...[open AU SSBB rp]
“My my, you are a tough nut to crack, aren’t you?”
“What don’t you get?! Can’t you see I’d never work with the likes of anyone like you?!”
The chubby boy shook his head out of pity. Why wouldn’t this Pokemon Trainer guy just allow himself to become a Trophy? Why was he so hardheaded? He took away those magical balls that seemed to hold those Poke-man things that he commanded, he had sent his strongest to battle him, and yet he refuses to go down. Even after taking a pumbling like no tomorrow, he still stood. This was the last straw, he was getting impatient now.
“Alright, put the little worm to sleep. This way isn’t working, but I think I have a better way to turn him into our little slave.”
He backs out of the room and closes the door. Red bolted up the best he could given the pain everywhere and tried to open the door. Much to his dismay, the door was sealed shut. He desperately tries to open the door, slamming his fists as hard as he could. There was an odd smell in the room that was making him sleepy. No! He couldn’t sleep now! He had to save Lucas! Was he alone with that giant robot thing that attacked earlier?
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His eyelids were getting heavy. He does his best to try and fight it, yet it gets worse and worse. Suddenly he couldn’t stay awake anymore. He lays on the ground and begins to sleep.
“Nighty-night!”
A soft sound of beeping was heard. Where was he? The ground oddly felt like...a bed? His eyes opened slowly. Who the heck were these odd guys in Tepig masks staring at him for? One nods his head and writes something on a clipboard while the other left the room as if it wanted to tell someone something.
Red felt odd, like he was trapped in a suit of armor. He gives a yawn and looks down to his body. Boy he wish he didn’t. Metal plates surrounded most of his body. He looked to his arm only to find an odd sword attached to it. Red began to panic. It was odd, he could still feel his arm underneath the odd contraption, able to even feel his fingers move. Still, this was quite a shock to the trainer as he let out a large screech of fear. 
That scream must have alerted the chubby boy, because he and his Tepig faced friends had come in. “Ah, so I see you woke up. I tried to do this the easy way but...well...you left me no choice.” Red shuffled out of the bed in a fit of rage. “You did this to me! What the heck did you do to me?!” He chuckles, stroking his chin as if he was some sort of movie antagonist. He was having too much fun. “I didn’t do anything. This was the doing of my underlings. Yet, you my friend, ol buddy, ol pal, are going to obey me no matter what. All I gotta do is press this shiny red button.”
 Red was even more enraged now. He went up to him and grabbed him by the collar with his sword free hand.
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“You little Rattata! You can’t use me like your robot butler or somethin’!” Then he remembers something Lucas told him during their journey together. Something that was just like this. Not a something, but a someone...someone who had ended up with a fate just like this. Just like Claus. Red shook even more with anger. Why do these people keep hurting Lucas’s loved ones?! He had totally blocked out the fact he was half robot now, his mind was only on Lucas. “You’re that Porky guy, right? You jerk...I’ll make you pay for what happened to Claus!” Normally Porky would question how this Pokemon character knew about Claus, but there was already a fist coming for him, The trainer moved his arm back and socked the guy in the jaw. The guy’s round body made a large thump as it fell to the floor. Instead of getting mad, he smirks, wipes off the blood, then presses the button on the remote he held.
Red hears a loud buzzing sound in his head. It was like all his thoughts were shut off at this moment. Porky got back up and wiped the dirt off of his clothes. “Good, the procedure went just as planned.” He walks over to Red watching him roll in pain from the machine on him. “So I hear talk you’re a champion? Champion of losers, maybe! Hehehehe!” As hard as he tries to ignore it, the machine still gets worse and worse. Now he was completely taken over.
“What are your wishes, King P?”
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sleepyfan-blog · 6 years ago
Text
Sparring with Dream
fandom: Undertale Multiverse AU
first in the series is here. previous is here. 
Characters and pairing: Dream, Killer, Horror, Dust, Nightmare, Dreammare
warnings: violence, cursing, blood
word count: 2,952
summary: Dream spars with Killer and Dust.
They found Dream wandering around Nightmare’s extensive library, a small and reflective smile on his face as the other ran a couple of fingers along the spines of the books as he past. None of the three of them could really understand the logic or reasoning behind how Boss kept the books in his library - but it was apparently in a very specific pattern that they had to replicate when they borrowed a book.
“HEY YOU!” Killer called out, having worked himself up into a very dark mood by the time they’d found the other “Dream was it? I want to spar with you, see what you’re made of.”
Dream tilted his head a little and nodded, smiling warmly up at him “Okay! Nightlight did tell me that at least one of you would be interested in a fight. So are the three of you going to spar with me together, or one on one? He did show me where the training rooms are - which is where we should head off to.”
His stupid voice was sweet and charming. For the briefest moment, Killer felt himself calm down a little before he mentally shook himself, scowling harder at the overconfident little shit “Nah, I’ll fight you first. Then, if you can stand it, I guess Dust or Hatchet’ll fight you, depending on which of them feels like it. I doubt that you could handle the three of us at once.”
The interloper nodded a little, though the was still smiling sweetly up at him. “Okay, let’s go then.”
Hatchet asked quietly as they walked to the closest training room “Where’s boss? From the way you two were all over each other, I didn’t think that he’d let you go any time soon.”
Dream blushed a little - fidgeting with his gloves for a bit “One of the Dark Papyri came up to the both of us, telling him that one of the village leaders wanted to talk to him about something. I don’t really know what the sociopolitical climate of our timeline is right now, so I told him I’d either be in the library… Or if one of you decided to fight me, in one of the training rooms. It’s been a… Long time since I was actively participating in what’s going on in our timeline. Ah, but Nightmare asked me not to talk about that.”
They arrived at the training room as Dream spoke, and after checking to make sure that none of the guards were in there fighting, Killer more or less ran into the middle of the sparring ring, glaring defiantly at Dream “So, you going to come up with here or just blather?” he was brimming with jealous hostility.
Dream eye lights brightened momentarily, and there seemed to be an oddly familiar way that he was smiling at Killer. Something that reminded Hatchet of Nightmare. “I’m coming, I’m coming. First thing’s first - what are the terms of the spar? Is it until one of us gets first contact? Or is it three hits? Or is it until one of us pins the other for a certain amount of time? Is soul magic allowed or off the metaphorical table?” Nightmare had made him promise not to beat them too badly - it would damage their pride. But he wanted to make sure that they were clear on the rules first.
“First person to pin the other for thirty seconds three times wins. Nothing lethal, obviously, which means no blasters or walls of bones. Everything else is fair game. You ready? Or are  you that nervous that you’re going to ask too many pointless fucking questions?” Killer hissed, pacing around the ring, agitated and more than ready to fight.
“I just wanted to know what sort of fight you’re looking for, Killer~!” Dream responded, the smile on his face widening a little as he got into the ring, teleporting behind the other and sweeping the younger skeleton’s feet out from beneath him with his staff that he had just summoned placing a foot square in the middle of his back and pinning him in place for thirty seconds. “I believe the first round goes to me.”
Killer hadn’t expected the other to strike so quickly, and shook off the strange feelings of calm and peace that had hit him, making it utterly impossible for him to move for the thirty seconds that the other had him pinned “You fucker. You caught me off-guard that time, but you’re not-” he hissed as he got up, pulling his daggers from his inventory, interrupted as Dream struck a second time.
Dream had planted his staff firmly on the ground, using it as a leverage point so that he could swing his body weight around into a kick that sent Killer flying backwards and landing firmly on his ass with a groan. The mortal wheezed as he struggled to get up onto his knees - sending a wave of bones at Dream in an attempt to slow the other down - watching as the other leapt over the attack, landing on his feet before rolling to displace the energy and smacking him square in the chest - just above where his Soul would be, sending Killer flat on his back for a second time in less than three minutes.
One of the guardian of positivity’s foot was firmly planted on his chest - the other was pinning one of his hands. Dream was still smiling at him patiently, as if amused by what was going on. Killer growled and tried to use his Blue magic to grab hold of the other’s soul, but Dream firmly smacked one side of his head hard enough for the other to see stars, completely breaking his conversation. “I believe that’s the second pin to me. Now, are you actually going to start fighting? Nighty did pick you for your fighting ability, didn’t he?”
“He did, but… How the fuck are you that fast?” Killer hissed as Dream got off of him, shaking his head a little and feeling woozy as something wet dripped down the side of his face from the point at which the other’s staff had struck him. When he checked his hand after touching it, Killer choked on his breath, before howling, summoning his blasters, incensed at the little shit’s sheer audacitiy  “You fucker you made me bleed! That’s it. I’m going to see what you look all broken and bleeding! By the time that you-”
Dream sighed, shaking his head a little as he simply summoned a bow, his staff vanishing before pulling back a single light green arro, taking aim at the wildly ranting and furious mortal, dodging the other’s blasters and bone attacks as if they were nothing and shooting him squarely in the soul, watching as he flew backwards, both bone and blaster vanishing in puffs of magic. The force of the arrow sent Killer flying until he hit the wall. “You know, you should only talk in battle if you can concentrate at the same time.” Dream admonished lightly as he walked over to where Killer was pinned, unable to summon his magic or teleport away. “I believe that that’s the third time I’ve pinned you for thirty seconds. Now if you’ll stay still, I can heal that head wound.”
Killer went very still as he realized that he’d been utterly outclassed. It was like fighting against Nightmare… Or that one time that he’d been nearly killed by that glitchy asshole before Boss had shown up and chased him off. “Wh… What the fuck? You have… You have like no LV. There… There’s… How…? I… Please heal me, my head really fucking hurts.”
“Nightmare and I were created to be guardians and protectors. We fight better side by side, actually, than we do apart.” Dream responded, shrugging a little as he healed Killer and pulled the arrow out of the other’s chest and soul before allowing it to vanish. He walked back into the sparring ring, looking at both Dust and Hatchet curiously.
Hatchet was genuinely impressed by the amount of badass was contained in the cute, tiny package known as Boss’s mate. He decided to stay quiet, as he was pretty sure he’d say something that might irritate the powerful being in front of him.
Dust,  however, was rolling on the floor laughing “Hahahahaha! Oh my stars! He totally fucking trounced you! He’s like. Three feet fall and has an angelic little baby voice and you just… Ahahahahaha! That was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. Just a little bit of bite and you just fucking lose it. Weeeeeaaak! Man, I thought that you were a better fighter than that, Killer. Okay. My turn! You won’t beat me as fast as you beat the loser, especially since you don’t have the element of surprise. For our fight I say… First person to score three hits that cause the other to bleed or until one of us begs for mercy. Whichever comes first.” Dream didn’t really look like the kind of person who could take much pain, so this was going to be easy. All he had to do was to get the other to bleed a little and he’d have this in the bag. Dream’s speed was going to be a problem - but a bit of Blue magic should even things on that score.
Dust teleported onto the sparring ring, sending several different bone attacks at Dream, some of them blue like some of Pap’s bone attacks were blue - because trying to actually latch onto the little fucker’s soul with his magic was surprisingly difficult. He sent more waves of light pink bones the other’s way - frowning a little as he realized that Dream-
Was behind him and drove his staff through his ribs, the five pointed star scoring a deep scratch along his ribs - what made it worse is that Dream used the fact that the top of his staff was lodged between his ribs to yank him closer, wrapping an arm around Dust’s neck and scratching two of his cervical vertebrae with the tips of his finger bones - which had turned into surprisingly sharp claws. The positive guardian twisted his staff and pulled as he kicked Dust away from him, a yellow bubble shield surrounding him as a half-dozen or so Gaster Blasters appeared around him and blasted the energy barrier…
To seemingly no effect whatsoever. Dream then transformed his staff into a bow and shot Dust in the legs - one pinning the other’s left foot - a second piercing through his right femur with an audible and painful crack. “I believe that’s three separate attacks where I’ve drawn blood on you. Are you ready to desist, or must I make you ask me for mercy?” He was still smiling sweetly at Dust from where he stood, the bubble shield still surrounding him.
Dust twitched a little on the ground, attempting to get up, only to let out a sharp “Ow!” In pain as Dream shot him again - pinning one of  his hands to the floor. “Fuck!”
“Answer the question please - or I will pin your soul - and therefore you won’t be able to use your magic without causing considerable damage to yourself. Do. You. Concede?” Dream asked, still calmly smiling at him, voice light and gentle… But there was an intensity to the other’s gaze that sent a cold shiver of fear through all three of the mortal skeletons.
“F-Fuck! I give! I give… Let me up, please?” Dust answers after a moment - hesitating to speak and flinching as another one of those damned arrows appears in Dream’s hands. “... And I’d be grateful if you healed me up, too.”
“Wonderful! I’m so glad to get to know Nighty’s friends - even if it means I have to fight you first.” Dream beamed happily, lowering the shield and carefully pulling out the arrows before allowing them to vanish in a puff of magic. He noticed something and let out a little “Tsk.” Before flipping Dust over onto his back and directly grabbing the other’s soul “You asked for mercy, so I gave it. Trying to gather the energy for an attack afterwards is just rude, Dust.”
“I-I wasn’t-” Dust began to fib, his eye lights shrinking to pinpricks in panic as he went very still. Fuck, fuck, fuck, had he just crossed a line that he shouldn’t?
“You shouldn’t lie to an empathic being who’s holding your soul in his hands, you know.” Dream scolded lightly, ever so gently squeezing Dust’s soul reprimandingly. “You surrendered, and you should do so with grace. There’s no shame in losing a sparring match, especially as I have several hundred years of experience on you.”
“I… I surrender. For… F-For real this time.” Dust stuttered, his eye lights expanding as Dream’s magic surrounded him, cowering a little and waiting to be killed again. He blinked as a sense of peace and calm washed over him, and the pain receded from his body. He looked down and realized that Dream had healed his injuries. “I… W-Why did you…?” He couldn’t finish the sentence, utterly perplexed by the strange being in front of him.
“You asked for me to heal you, and as you’ve actually surrendered, I see no reason not to do so. You’re young and impulsive, so I will forgive you for this small misstep.” Dream explained kindly, letting Dust’s soul go, and offering a hand to help him up.
Which Dust shakily took. Boss definitely wouldn’t have granted him such a mercy. While that wasn’t enough to get him dusted, he knew that the other would have beaten him bloody and left him in a heap, likely after telling him something scathing and deeply cutting. “I… Th-thank you for your mercy…” Dust managed out, humbled and stunned.
Dream turned and looked at Hatchet, asking curiously “Would you like to spar with me as well?”
Hatchet glanced at Dust and Killer before answering carefully “Uh… Nah. I’m not in the mood right now - besides I know better than to go up against someone as strong as you by myself, even in a friendly sparring match. ‘Sides I gotta make sure these two idiots don’t dust themselves trying to get stronger.”
Dust would normally feel scandalized and betrayed… But given the thorough and swift ass-kicking that he and Killer had both gotten… He understood where Hatchet was coming from. Still, he couldn’t help but tease Hatchet a little “Aww… You sure, Hatch’? I’ll give you a bar of chocolate if you actually manage to get a hit on Dream.”
“Hahaha. As if you ever give up any of the chocolate you get in your possession, Dust.” Hatchet snorted. The three of them wandered off, Dust and Killer to lick the metaphorical wounds done to their egos, and Hatchet followed to make sure that they didnt’ do anything else stupid today.
~
“Well, you’re gotten more ruthless than the last time that I’ve seen you fight.” Nightmare called out, leaning against one of the training dummies as he smirked at his beloved. “From the last time we sparred, I was fairly sure that you’d have at least prolonged the fights for more than a couple of seconds. Let them have the thought that they might have a chance at scoring a point against you.”
Dream shrugged his shoulders a little, unsurprised that Nightmare had been watching them. He’d led them to this specific training room because he’d known that the other would be able to observe from the throne room if  he so wanted. “You said that I needed to stand my ground and push back against whatever they threw at me. Besides, I really, really hate playing the helpless healer role and wanted to knock any of those notions out of their heads before they could begin to take root. Those three might actually take me seriously.”
“Hmm, I did warn you that there would be those who would assume such things of you because of your aura and capacity for healing, darling.” Nightmare purred as he wrapped a couple of tentacles around his beloved’s waist, pulling him in close.
The positive spirit huffed a little and pouted, nodding a little “I know… It didn’t help that for the first couple of years after I… After I fled from  you I was pretty much in shock constantly and trying to process what had happened, so I was really passive when I met Ink and his mortal… Companions. And that image of me stuck in their heads, I guess. That and… If you’ve got someone else to fight your battles for you… Why stop them? Especially if your enemy thinks that you’re helpless and therefore won’t attack you directly because it isn’t sporting?”
Nightmare snorted before bursting out into laughter “Oh, I absolutely must meet this Error. He sounds incredibly entertaining, if unstable and dangerous… And these friends of yours as well.”
“... Maybe in a little while? I want to learn more about what you’re doing with the people you’re ruling over and all of that. If Ink finds out what you’re doing, he’s not going to like it and try to stop you… which will pull the others into the conflict and it’s just going to be a mess if not handled properly.” Dream murmured, smiling softly as he nuzzled into his beloved, content. He… May have been showing off his battle-hardened skills a little to Nightmare, by proving how quickly he could disable the other’s minions if he so chose.
“I’m in no rush to meet them.” The negative spirit reassured, pressing a light kiss to his beloved’s teeth, pulling him in a little closer to further their embrace.
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