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mollywog · 10 months ago

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As previewed in Snippet Sunday a non-Hijacked District 13 AU

Reunion

Peeta.

Alive and well — maybe not well but alive and here. Away from Snow. Safe. Here. With me. In a minute I can touch him. See his smile. Hear his laugh.

Haymitch’s grinning at me. “Come on, then,” he says.

I’m light-headed with giddiness. What will I say? Oh, who cares what I say? Peeta will be ecstatic no matter what I do. He’ll probably be kissing me anyway. I wonder if it will feel like those last kisses on the beach in the arena, the ones I haven’t dared let myself consider until this moment.

Peeta’s awake already, sitting on the side of the bed, looking bewildered as a trio of doctors reassure him, flash lights in his eyes, check his pulse. I’m disappointed that mine was not the first face he saw when he woke, but he sees it now. His features register disbelief and something more intense that I can’t quite place. Desire? Desperation? Surely both, for he sweeps the doctors aside, leaps to his feet, and moves toward me. I run to meet him, my arms extended to embrace him. His hands are reaching for me, too.

He’s thin. Reminiscent of the dying boy I found by the stream, yet his embrace still engulfs me. I wrap my arms around his waist. It’s not enough and I rub my hands up his back until I can touch flesh. The nape of his neck is clammy, but it doesn’t stop my palms from resting there, nor do the damp matted locks deter my fingers from caressing his hair. My nose is buried in his chest, where the antiseptic and plastic scents of the hospital are masked by the stench of blood, sweat, and chemicals. If he smelled of cinnamon and dill I would know this was a dream, so I breathe him in as more proof of his existence. I turn my head, nuzzling my ear to his chest, finding the quick but steady drum of his heart; My new favorite sound.

After some time, Peeta pulls away. A strangled whine escapes my lips and I grasp the front of his tattered shirt, clinging so he can’t move far. He doesn’t mean to, instead he gently cups my face in his hands, tilting it up. I lick my lips, expecting him to kiss me, but he only stares down at me. I realize he’s still emerging from the gas as his pupils adjust and his dazed look turns to one of intense concentration. “You’re real,” he finally whispers, letting his forehead sink to mine as his eyes flutter closed.

“So are you,” I croak out. I reach up to touch his face, tilting my own up further for a brief press of lips. I move next to his jaw where I’d first kissed him a year ago, then to his cheek, next to his ear, then his palms. A constellation of kisses telling the story of past suffering.

I switch my attention to the fresh wounds, dotting feather light kisses to the path of cuts and bruises, willing his pain away.

Haymitch clears his throat and Peeta’s eyes fly open. He blinks rapidly, before catching sight of our mentor and leveling him with a glare. His hands encircle me protectively, “Annie and Johanna?”

“Rescued as well.”

Peeta releases a small breath, “how are they?”

“We saw them on our way through,” I interject. “Annie’s with Finnick and Johanna was headed to surgery.” I think of Johanna, emaciated, unconscious, with no loved ones waiting for her. I swallow back a sob and grip on Peeta tightens.

He looks down at me, frowning as he absorbs what I’ve said and comes to a similar conclusion. He averts his attention back to Haymitch, “You’ll be there when she wakes.” It’s a statement, not a request.

Haymitch nods his assent, reaching out to give Peeta’s arm a squeeze before turning to leave, “good to have you back, kid.”

“We’ll talk later,” Peeta’s voice is firm. My resentment towards Haymitch has all but vanished, his is still fresh.

Peeta looks back down to me, lips twitching in the smallest of smiles. I thought I had exhausted them all, but tears prick the corners of my eyes.

“Excuse me, Mr. Mellark,” an unfamiliar voice comes from behind me and I whip around, assuming a defensive posture between Peeta and the source of our disruption. The youngest of the trio of doctors stutters backwards a step.

Peeta steps out from behind me. “Yes?” he addresses the doctors. I grab for his hand and lace our fingers.

The man looks between us wearily, “We’d like to complete your exam so we can begin a treatment plan. Miss you need to leave.”

Anyone who thinks I’ll willingly go now that I have Peeta back must be mad and I tell the doctor as much. Peeta’s hand locked firmly in mine reassures me of our shared resolve.

Another of the doctors, an older woman with frown lines and a tight bun steps in, “we let you have your little reunion as a courtesy, but now it’s time for us to do our jobs. Protocol dictates that only a family member may be present outside of regular visiting hours. Until then you are not authorized to be here.”

Dread pools in my stomach at the mention of family, instantly replacing my fury at the woman. I hadn’t let myself imagine more than these first few minutes. Now I’m wishing Haymitch hadn’t left so he could be the one to deliver the news. But one glance at Peeta’s face tells me he already knows. I’ll be damned if I leave him now.

I square my shoulders, “I am his family.”

“That’s not what our records indicate,” The woman says unmoved. The two other doctors behind her look down at their clipboards, leafing through pages. They won’t find anything there, but then a memory of something Peeta told Caesar echoes in my mind:

‘And to us, we’re more married than any piece of paper or big party could make us.’

I latch onto the idea, “I’m his wife.”

The woman purses her lips and the other doctors shoot each other nervous glances.

“I know you watch the games down here. You must have seen the interviews. We’re married, he said so himself.”

“Yes, I’ve seen all his interviews. He’s had a lot to say recently.”

My nostrils flare and I’m deciding whether to lunge at her or just volley a slew of insults, when Peeta speaks, “Could you give us a minute?” He steps in front of me, saving the doctor from bodily harm while never letting go of my hand. “You should speak to Haymitch Abernathy on the matter in the meantime,” he says, neither confirming nor denying my assertion. Regardless of his feelings towards our mentor, Peeta at least trusts him to know how to handle this.

The doctor stares at us for a long beat, before giving a terse nod, “We’ll be back as soon as we clear this up.”

The door clicks and Peeta turns towards me, an unreadable expression on his face. So I parrot his words from so many weeks ago, “Is there anything I have to apologize for?”

#everlark fanfiction #thg fanfiction #district 13 #non-hijacked reunion

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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 2 years ago

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best game in the league

nico hischier x actress!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of drugs, not proofread

liked by madelyncline, charles_leclerc and 472,973 others

ynofficial: hot girl shit w/ jimmy fallon tonight

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fan1: slay bestie

fan2: you literally never miss

charles_leclerc: ferrari admin thanks you for repping

liked by ynofficial

fan3: charles?

fan4: i always forget they're friends

madelyncline: u make me question things about myself

ynofficial: i mean, if you ever need help with that...

liked by ynsuperfan, maddiebaby234 and 1,292 others

enews: Days after announcing she's officially off the market, Daisy Jones and the Six's y/n l/n and Glass Onion's Madelyn Cline spotted leaving the New Jersey Devil's NHL game tonight. The two have a history of flirting on Instagram and many years of friendship under their belts - could Madelyn be Y/N's beau?

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fan5: pretty sure madelyn has a bf?

fan6: y/n swings both ways but madelyn does not unfortunately

fan7: does enews not know what friendship is?

fan8: they always go to hockey games together lmao it's nothing new

liked by sukiwaterhouse, reneerapp and 592,163 others

ynofficial: 13

and no, enews, madelyn is not my gf (she's my wife)

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enews: interesting

njdevils: blasting red rn because of you

ynofficial: taylor's version?

njdevils: only ever taylor's version

fan9: i think that women-

madelyncline: ur my good looking girl

fan10: mommies

fan11: i need you to do vogue's 73 questions in your new house

ynofficial posted to their story

liked by ynofficial, charles_leclerc and 213, 186 others

britishvogue: a sneak peek into y/n's new home as requested...featuring a familiar face in a photo frame

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charles_leclerc: of all pictures ynofficial you have that one?

ynofficial: it was the only one i had where you didn't look like a goblin

fan12: the mat!! the mirror!! charles!!

fan13: they knew each other when they were babies???? I HAD NO IDEA

fan14: probably to avoid dating rumours :/

fan15: not yn out here having a frame photo of charles like a proud mum

liked by charles_leclerc and ynofficial

fan16: what if it's charles?

fan17: she said in an interview she still lives in america, and charles lives in monaco

fan18: they're completely platonic

liked by jhughes, madelyncline and 48,173 others

nicohischier: swipe for a soft launch

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jhughes: NICO??? I THOUGHT WE HAD SOMETHING???

trevorzegras: dude you have the best game in the league

fan19: honey we agreed not to tell anyone

fan20: and another one bites the dust

liked by nicohischier, gracieabrams and 629,123 others

ynofficial: i might not do crystal meth in the bathroom but i definitely do a hockey captain

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fan21: OH MY GONWJ

fan22: i need to know if she's sober is she sober

madelyncline: absolutely not no

charles_leclerc: LMFAO WAS THIS SUPPOSED TO GO ON YOUR MAIN?????

fan23: icon behaviour

fan24: NICO???? OH

ynofficial: that's what i say too

fan25: fuck ok

jhughes: nicohirschier

nicohirschier: wOw she's hot

jhughes: you're just as wasted aren't you?

nicohischier: yah

fan26: literally how did no one get this???????? all the twitter threads and no one thought the reason she was such a devils fan was because she was dating their captain?????

fan27: GUYS TWITTER CRASHED WTF

liked by charles_leclerc, ynofficial and 123,862 others

nicohischier: i'm the captain in case you didn't know

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ynofficial: yeah you are

charles_leclerc: oh we knew

nicohischier: oops

ynofficial: wait this means people know i have feelings

nicohischier: feelings? ew

madelyncline: are we in fifth grade or something?

comments for this post have been limited

liked by madelyncline, sukiwaterhouse and 823,134 others

ynofficial: i'm a wag now, and as a wag i'm going to create a little (emphasis on little) list of things i've learnt over the last 2 years: if he bleeds he's not going to die, he might just need extra cuddles for a few days; fighting is BAD, it is definitely not something to encourage *wink*; nico will feel physically ill if he doesn't have a glass of orange juice each morning; roadies suck but the sex is phenomenal; jack is like our pet dog - feed him, give him shelter and love him unconditionally

also, i'm now gonna log off social media for a while because this is all the simping i'm comfortable with this month sorry

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nicohischier: am i a wag too?

ynofficial: omg you ARE

nicohischier: oh my god i love the wag lifestyle

_quinnhughes: i'm gonna frame that analogy of jack

ynofficial: i can send you a print i already did it

jhughes: rude

charles_leclerc: from one red guy to the other, can i be best man?

ynofficial: you can be my man of honour, madelyn's would be my maid

madelyncline: when is the wedding

fan28: WEDDING? WTF

fan29: i love how yn went from completely avoiding all questions about a romantic relationship and now she's hibernating because she's been figured out

#nico hischier x reader #nico hischier social media au #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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doctorbrown · 4 months ago

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MCFLY JULY ‘24 ⸺ 「 7 / 31 * BACK IN TOWN 」

April 13, 1989, 23:51

1646 Riverside Drive

Marty had barely registered the walk in the evening air, his body functioning on autopilot to lead him to his second home, the place he thinks he could navigate to in his sleep. At this hour, not even the birds are awake, and Marty feels the stake of loneliness drive deeper and deeper into his very soul.

Doc should be here, he thinks as he steals the key from its usual hiding spot under the mat. This is where he’d greet me and ask what happened that brought me all the way out here at this hour.

The rhythmic ticking of Doc’s clocks is the only thing that greets him now.

The door screams into the darkness as it swings open and Marty makes a mental note to oil those hinges the next time he comes around. The old garage feels hollow without Doc’s larger-than-life presence filling it and his shoulders sag as he trudges to the couch, plopping himself down on it with a sigh that ages him twelve years.

His home feels like a prison. Jennifer’s asleep by now. He needed somewhere—anywhere—to be and before all this, before this new and improved timeline with a family that pays too much attention and smiles and laughs together so much it’s still a little unsettling, he would come here to escape from the world.

Even without Doc here, he still finds himself doing that.

Maybe one day he’ll come back.

I’ve got a million and one things to tell you, Doc. I wish you were here.

I hope you’re doing okay back there.

He’d checked religiously that first month after coming home for another tombstone popping up in Boot Hill Cemetery, his heart leaping into his throat every time he walked from one to the next, terrified that everything he did was for nothing—that in the end, Doc was fated to die and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it now.

November came and went, the names on the tombstones never changed, and after that, Marty had allowed himself to check less and less frequently, limiting his visits to once a week, then once every two weeks until there had been only one visit per month.

Doc was still alive and well and Marty breathed a little easier, finding some small comfort in that fact. At least he wasn’t alone. Clara was back there with him, sharing in the moments of Doc’s life that Marty couldn’t be there for.

All he has left are ghosts of his best friend frozen here in time in this garage, collecting dust.

The time machine plans are safe, even if they’re all but useless now. He’d picked up a thing or two from Doc over the years in the sciences, enough to where he could keep up until he started speaking a second language, diving into fourth-dimensional mechanics that admittedly made his head spin. Three dimensions he understood fine. Four, however, made things confusing—it turned everything on its head, leaving him floundering to try and keep up.

The space-time continuum.

N-dimensional space.

What isn’t yet will be and what is never was.

Sometimes, he thinks about laying out every one of Doc’s meticulously kept notes across every available square inch of his room and burning the formulas into his eyes until something finally clicks into place, allowing him to recreate his best friend’s genius.

Doc had wanted the time machine destroyed—Doc made sure the time machine was destroyed, stranding Marty in a reality without him—but if he stares long and hard enough, he could do it, he could reconstruct it, he could get Doc back—

Sometimes, he wants to throw the entire box into a blazing fire and watch until time crumples before his very eyes, reduced to nothing more than dust and a dream. Time-travel fixed his life. Time-travel had thrown him to hell and back, threatened his existence, warped his entire perception of the world, leaving him a stranger in a strange land he’s only still learning how to navigate, and now it had stolen his best friend from him and ensured that Marty would never see him again.

Tonight is one of those nights where he curses time-travel, where the reality of his and Doc’s situation hit harder than normal, throwing him into a dark cavern he bloodies his hands trying to crawl out of.

“I wish I’d never invented that infernal time machine. It’s caused nothing but disaster.”

—Me too, Doc. Then at least you’d still be here.

April 14, 1989, 01:31

The sound of a mechanical scream rouses Marty from his unintentional slumber with a start and the adrenaline now coursing through his veins makes quick work of any lingering sleep in his eyes and mind. He squints under the lights and grabs for the first thing within reach—a broken piece of pipe Doc had been using for one of his old experiments—preparing himself for the worst.

“Stay back, whoever you are! I’m warning you!”

An all-too-familiar shriek roots Marty where he stands.

“D—” The word catches in his throat and Marty runs through every prayer he knows that he’s not imagining this. “Doc? Is that you?”

Doc recovers in the blink of an eye, turning to face Marty with a bright grin on his face. “Marty! I didn’t think you’d be here—what are you doing here a—you know what, never mind that for now. I’m so happy to see you, Marty. It’s been so long.”

The pipe tumbles out of Marty’s stunned hands and he rubs at his eyes, half-convinced the illusion will disappear right before his eyes and break his heart all over again. Doc is still there, blurred slightly at the edges, and Marty lunges forward, grabbing his best friend in a back-breaking hug.

“Doc, I can’t b—how are you here? I thought I’d never see you again.”

Doc returns the hug with more strength than Marty remembers him having and he grunts slightly, wishing the moment to stretch an eternity to make up for the last four years.

After a beat, Doc breaks the hug, holding him at arm’s length with his hands firmly pressed on his shoulders. Marty knows that look; it’s that same conspiratorial you won’t believe what I’m about to tell you look Doc wore that night at the mall when he’d unveiled the DeLorean.

“We’re moving back to the Twentieth Century. I’m here to check on a few things.”

His breath catches. “You’re—that’s great, Doc, that’s—you mean it? You’re really coming back?”

“That’s right. We’ve still got several things to sort out, but once everything is taken care of, we’ll be moving here. We’ve come to the decision that it’s too potentially dangerous to stay in the Nineteenth Century for the rest of our lives.”

“Wait a minute, Doc—who is we?”

#there is a timeline where doc and the family didn't show up until years down the road - that's not the canon timeline we get but #god i love thinking about it sm #the timeline where marty does live for several years wondering about doc and thinking he's never going to see him again #mcflyjuly #mcfly july 2024 #&; i told queue it would work!#but there's *a lot* that has to be taken care of before the move back on doc's end to ensure that his family will be protected and #nobody gets suspicious of their origins - there are a lot of t's to cross and i's to dot.

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thewritetofreespeech · 2 years ago

Note

For aizen and shinji(seperately ) how they propose x fem reader

Maybe for aizen he never betrayed the soul society or he is the soul king ?

Fluff plz

Shinji Hirako

“Geh….I forgot how hot these dumb robes were.” Shinji complained as he fluttered his new captain’s haori to get some air.

You smirk to yourself at his complaint. Knowing they were hollow. You knew Shinji was happier than he had ever been to be back in the Seireitei, in the Gotei 13, and back at his old post. It had been a long time. One neither of you thought would ever come. When you saw Shinji again after all this time, presumed dead, you’d burst into tears and clung to him for dear life as if to never let him go again.

That was almost a year ago, and now you were settling into your regular lives.

“Well, you look very handsome.”

“I always look handsome.” Shinji corrected of your compliment. Gritting his teeth when you set some new paperwork down on his desk. “Give ‘at the Hinamori.”

“It’s not Hinamori-san’s responsibility.” You retort with a grumble.

“ ‘course it is. ‘s what lieutenants and seated officers is for. Taken work off their poor capt’ins so they can focus on more important things.”

“Let me guess? Like your naps?”

“To name a few.” Shinji choked on his words when you wacked him in the head for his intolerance. Not appreciating your efforts to the division marginalized like this; even if it was a joke.

“Please see that these are completed by this afternoon.”

“[Y/N]-chan is so meeeeannn…..” Shinji whined. “Hey, wait a minute.” He called when he saw you were actually leaving.

You turn around, still in a huff, to see what he wanted and have to act fast to catch the small parcel tossed at you. “What’s this?”

“It’s a present.”

“This isn’t going to get you out of paperwork.” You grumble. Then open the box to see a small ring inside. It took you a moment to process what it meant before you looked up at Shinji in alarm. Who looked remarkably serious, and more vulnerable, than you had ever seen him before.

“I’m a pretty lucky guy.” He stood from his desk and walked over to you. “ ‘m back at my old job. I got my revenge. Lived a buncha years in the human world just amblin’ by like I always wanted to. But there wan’t a day that went by that I didn’t think of you.” He took the ring out of your hands, and then slipped it on your finger. “Haven you back…it almost makes all that crap worth it. So, will ya make me the luckiet guy in the universe and marry me [Y/N]?”

“Yes!” You answer immediately. Wrapping your arms around Shinji and kissing him fiercely.

You both hold on to each other for a while. By the time you break apart you had to wipe happy tears from your face. “I’m so happy. I can’t wait to tell everyone. Wait, we should tell them together. I’ll be back later when you’re done, and we can do that.”

“Wait? I still have to do paperwork?!”

“Yes Shinji,” moment over. “You better not have done this just so you could slack off. No take backs anyway. You’re stuck with me forever now.”

Shinji smirked and moved back to his desk. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Sosuke Aizen

*I know what you said, but.....BUT.....hear me out*

You laid in bed, waiting for Aizen to return after his shower. He’d been a little off today. Not enough for anyone to notice; to the untrained observer he looked like the typical, good-natured captain everyone knew and loved. But you were his lover. So you noticed things in him that were not as keenly aware.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” You look up from the futon matting. Aizen walking in with a thin bathrobe on and still toweling his hair. “You have a big day tomorrow.”

“Is something wrong?” You asked him outright.

Whenever you wanted to get to the bottom of something with Aizen, you had to ask him outright. If you danced around the topic, he would dance with you, and suddenly you couldn’t remember what it was you had originally asked him about. “You’ve been acting odd all day.”

A soft chuckle left the captain. “Leave it to you to notice something.” He tossed the towel aside and reveled his handsome face, now that his hair was wet & pushed back without his glasses.

He came over to the bed and sat beside you. Gently taking your hand, which was for once not comforting. “You know I love and trust you more than anything, yes?” He said with a soft sort of smile. “So I’m going to tell you something I hope you’ll be pleased with. In 6 days, after Rukia Kuchiki’s execution, I’m going to overthrow to Soul King.”

Shock rang out through your body at Aizen’s words. You barely hear him over the ringing in your ears on how it will be done, the other captain’s betraying the Seireitei with him, when all this started.

“W…Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I want you to come with me.” He explained cheerfully. As if you had just planned some fun trip to the country. “The universe needs balance. And I intend to give it. With this new power I gain, I will create the world anew. The Seireitei and Gotei 13 will no longer be needed as they will be obsolete in this new world of order. An order we talked about.”

Yes, you had talked about how corrupt the Seireitei could be sometimes. How it seemed unjust that somewhere born into high states of privilege after their death, while others were forced to suffer. Who decided that? Didn’t all men die equally? But this seemed…..extreme.

Aizen then lifted your hand and kissed your ring finger. “I need you to come with me. Gin and Tosen are competent candidates, but they lack the vision you and I share. I cannot complete this on my own. A king needs his queen.” You were embarrassed to say that your heart fluttered.

Although you feared what Aizen was suggesting, what this may lead to, you still couldn’t imagine being without him. Not at his side. “Yes,” you whisper quietly as a single tear slid down your cheek, “yes I’ll go with you.”

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#bleach #bleach scenarios #bleach imagines #sosuke aizen #sosuke aizen x reader #aizen x reader #shinji hirako #shinji hirako x reader #shinji x reader #scenarios #imagine #bleach tybw

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sasha199 · 3 months ago

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Gale/ Rolan Drama Part 13

Read all of me on A03

Mayhem and Madness

Okay BIG trigger warning for smut. Fem Tav, human.

Y’all…this game hits different when your Tav is a stand in for yourself.

My sister and I are playing a multiplayer as ourselves, as sisters. I (Sasha) was romancing both Gale and Wyll. Sister (Marlie) is pulling both Astarion and Shadowheart

"Mama? Mama can you hear me?"

She continues to stare at the ceiling, her face blank, her eyes unblinking.

I switch to elvish "Maman? Maman, do you hear my words?"

That gets a small response, her eyes remain frozen to the ceiling but her head does move slightly. I sigh and tuck the covers more tightly around her, wipe a small bit of drool from her lip. Today will not one of her good days.

It's then that I hear a sound, a simple tune hummed by a familiar voice. I'd only ever heard it when I was ill, when I needed comfort as a child. I turn around, but all I see are the pale white walls of the medical ward.

"Marlie?" I call out, "Sis, is that you?"

Nothing. But I don't know what I was expecting. She's been gone for years. She left.

Just because you don't see her, it doesn't mean she isn't there.

I look back to the bed, it's empty.

Then I know. The realization dawns on me slowly. Like I'd walked into this room for something but forgot why half way through.

"This is a dream," I say aloud. As the words leave my lips several people burst into the room. A human man, a half-elf woman, a tiefling... the tieflings...

We have to help them. They need us!

The creatures lunge at me all at once, grabbing me, pulling me. I fight. I reach over my shoulder for something that isn't there. Where is my bow?

When my fists and feet connect with their bodies, they spring back like rubber. I struggle on but they're draining me, draining me of warmth, of life. I feel cold. I feel dead.

"She knows," they say, their faces snarled and twisted things, "She knows. She knows. Sheknowssheknowssheknowssheknowsshe-"

"Darling?"

My eyes fly open. My head is buried beneath a pillow, thick covers thrown on top of that. I lift my head, shaking the matted curls out of my eyes. I'm naked laying in a four poster bed. Gale is next to me. He lifts the pillow, peeking in at me blinking in the shadowy half light. Will we ever see a sunrise again?

"Are you alright?"

"Y-yes," I mutter burrowing back down. "Just a nightmare."

He dives in after me, "Where are you going?"

"To the center of the earth."

"Guess I'll have to follow you," he laughs wrapping his arms around me. "Gods, where are you?" He pushes back the mass of hair that halos my face.

"I didn't wear my bonnet." I say sheepishly.

He kisses my forehead through my hair. "Still beautiful."

"Thanks," I say, attempting to push it back off my face, it's not working.

"Would you like to share your dream with me? I have little to offer in regards to insight on such things...but I'm willing to listen. If it will help."

"Was I talking in my sleep?"

"Not really, just making noises. Twitching. You sounded afraid."

I snuggle my head up against his chest. "I was." I admit, after a moment. "Being alone...abandoned. It's a terrible feeling."

Suddenly I feel a...a stirring beneath my ear. I look down at the orb scar, worried. "Did I hurt you?"

He adjusts his shoulder absently, "It's like that in the mornings," he makes a face, "the hunger remains, though it must feed on the Weave now and not specifically me."

I peck the scar with a kiss before settling my head back down, Gale huffs through his nose at me, tightens his grip.

Something moves against my lower belly, and a wolfish smile creeps across my face. "Well now…" I snake a finger down through his happy trail, raking past the dark curls to trace the warm hard length of him. He twitches against me and I make a snug circle with my fingers around the base of his cock.

There's something clever to be said about hunger and feeding here but I honestly just want to taste that solid dick.

"Mmmmmm," I say sliding my hand up and down, I feel a bead of precum forming at the tip under my ministrations.

I wrap my hair into a loose knot and move lower over his body, leaving a trail of languid kisses in my wake. I love the soft down that grows on his belly and thighs, it's so sexy. I take a moment to look at him, to take in the vision of him as I wrap my hand around his throbbing member. He's perfect. He smells like me.

I run my tongue along the underside of his cock, from the base to the tip. I taste all of him using firm exploratory strokes, pausing to swirl around the head and pull it into my mouth. I suck him like a lollypop, enjoying the sweet flavor of him before I plunge in and take him deep. I lift my eyes to see his face. He's partially on his side, his chest is heaving.

His lidded eyes meet mine. He looks so handsome, lips parted, face flush, hair sticking to his forehead. I can feel myself dripping, arousal running down my thighs.

A groan rumbles up from within his chest. I almost giggle as it sparks a memory of us climbing a particularly steep hill together.

As I hold him in my mouth I use my other hand to cup him, massage his balls. I suck hard, hollowing my cheeks as best I can.

"S-Sasha, how I've dreamed of this…" he sounds delirious. He lets his head roll back, helpless. I use both my mouth and hand to move up and down, slippery with spit. I moan and he twitches in my mouth.

The tip of his head hits the back of my throat, nearly gagging me. I breathe through my nose, focus on keeping my rhythm steady.

Gale rakes his hands through my hair, pulling my snarled curls out of the loose knot, his hips jerk up against me.

He's at my mercy.

As I increase my speed, I can feel him expanding in my mouth, his girth straining against my lips. I've found that perfect delicious rhythm that I know will break him.

"That's it, baby," I murmur as I pause for air, kissing his thighs, "fucking cum for me."

He reaches for me, caressing my cheek, touching my shoulder. "B-But what about y-you…"

"I said cum. Now."

"I-I…"

He does. Hard. Whimpering and shuddering, his body curls up and towards me. With an animalistic cry I feel him spill into my throat. I hold him there until he finishes, swallowing. I wonder, for a moment, if this will make me smarter. I can't hold back a chuckle as he slips from my mouth and Gale pulls me up and into his arms.

Minutes pass as he just breathes against me, I know he's coming back to himself. I stroke the silvery stands of his hair and gently blow on his sweaty forehead.

He opens dazed eyes to look at me.

I smile at him, "You're welcome."

He answers with a possessive kiss. He opens his mouth for me and I suck greedily at his tongue. I can't get enough. "You taste so good. I want all of you."

"You have all of me."

"Damn right I do."

"Your turn?"

"Of course."

"Gods you're drenched."

"See what you do to me?"

He smiles as he kisses me, I moan wantonly as he traces circles around my swollen clit. "Tell me what you want."

"More." I say pushing his fingers into me, the sound is sinful. "I want it all."

"Your desire?"

"You. You, Gale."

Back at camp Marlie is watching me. I know that she knows.

I'm trying to be normal, but there's nothing normal about me. I keep accidentally meeting Gale's eye. A flash of the previous night sends a bolt of heat to my center, and I can feel myself flush. When our eyes meet, he's smiles at me and I just know he's picturing me naked.

I toss my braids, exasperated. I'm absolutely unable to focus on whatever task is at hand. Then I feel a soft brush against my neck, I turn just in time to see a pale blue mage hand wink out of existence. Gale looks remarkably innocent.

I go over to talk to him. I duck into his tent without a word. He follows me. There are so many books in here it's hard to find a place to sit, but I shift a stack to make room on his bedroll. Gale perches at the edge of the tent entrance.

"I'd like to talk about us." I say.

He thrusts a goblet into my hand, wine sloshes over the rim, "It would be my pleasure."

I sip from the very full cup. "H-how are you feeling?"

He takes a long drink from his own goblet, "Mostly…grateful. For meeting you. I won't lie to you Sasha before our night together I-" he traces the rim of his goblet with a finger, looks down into it as if it holds the secrets of the universe. "I had every intent of following through with Mystra's demands. I still feel…guilt…immense guilt for how I hurt her. I was wrong to overreach, to want more…"

"Gale." I interrupt him, " You were not happy with her. She never saw you as a partner, as an equal. Who could be happy, satisfied in a relationship so unbalanced? I'm sure the wonders of the Weave were everything you claim them to be, I know they were. But you are worth more. I would deny you nothing."

"Except loyalty."

I feel my mouth drop open.

"Excuse me?"

He raises his head slowly, his brown eyes are stormy with resentment, his mouth a hard angry line, "Loyalty. Faithfulness. The only thing you'd deny me would be the one thing I truly need from a partner."

I don't know what to say, so I stay quiet. My hands tremble around my goblet.

He finally breaks the silence, "I see that you expect me to settle for only half your heart when I would give you all of me."

"Half? Half my heart?" my voice is quiet, I am suddenly seething. I can feel the anger boiling in me like acid, "if you're referring to what I shared with you last night... about...how dare you throw my honesty back in my face."

"I'm afraid the evidence speaks for itself. How many dalliances am I supposed to forgive?"

" 'Dalliances-?' "

"First Wyll, then...Is this how it will always be for us? Will you constantly be testing the sincerity of your feelings for me? Is that what loyalty looks like to you? Because despite what you think you know about Mystra-"

"When will YOU decide that life without her is worth living?" I can't believe what I'm hearing, after all he's put me through? "How many wizards does SHE have to send to you before you realize you meant less than nothing to her? Obviously one wasn't enough."

Silence again

I down my wine in three swift gulps, and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, trying not to cough. "I know what you're doing, Gale." Each word feels like I'm extracting a molar. "I know how I feel about you. You don't understand what...happened. If you need details I will give when I am...calm. Calmer." I rub the back of my right hand, feeling the two raised scratches there. "Not that you deserve it."

Dalqulq.

"Until then, I need space. To cool down." Fuck. Stupid tears. I leave the tent. He doesn't follow me.

Marlie appears at my side before I've gone three strides.

"You ready to-"

"Of course I am." I snap, "Tell Shadowheart we're leaving. Have Astarion ready to go."

"Last Light?"

"And then that fucking Mausoleum. I feel like breaking shit."

Marlie smiles, she's gone before I even turn away.

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justanamesstuff · 1 year ago

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about everything! lol like do some one shots or sth 🥺

Aww I love you guys <3

Well, I can expand my thoughts about Matty, Arthur's friend and Ruth open her mouth about Mel haha because that's what I thought about today. PLEASE SEND ME IDEAS BECAUSE THIS GIRL NEVER KNOW WHAT YOU GUYS WANT TO KNOW ABOUT OR IFFFF YOU WANT MORE ABOUT ALL I NEED 😂

Back to the family...

Arthur was around 13 years old, he made a really nice group of friends that hang out on the house most of the time. Matty and Y/n knew them very well, and she always brought food when they have their little gatherings...which all of them love very much.

One Saturday, Matty was on his studio and Y/n went upstairs to bring them some drinks and snacks. Arthur is very embarrassed about the looks his friends send to her mother. He knew she's beautiful, but she was his mom and hated when his friends made comments. They were aware and mostly do it on porpoise.

Y/n closed the door of his son's room, hearing a muffled 'your mom is so fit' which made her chuckled and continued walking. The sound of an object hitting the floor of Arthur's room reached her ears after it.

She made her wait towards Matty's studio room. Y/n opened the door slightly just to check if he was too busy. She knocked, and he turned around.

"Hey."

"Hi, baby." he greeted her.

Y/n went to stand beside him, but Matty was quickly to push her into his lap. She gasped and rounded his shoulders, bringing her face closer.

"Working?" she asked.

"Just finished." he mumbled, leaving in a kiss on her lips.

"Good, I just came from Arthur's room...are they bothering you?"

"Not really...have my headphones on." Matty caressed her back, titling to look at her face, her eyes.

"Guess what?"

"Mhm."

"I'm a milf now." Y/n smirked, making him opened his eyes wide.

"Excuse me?"

"Heard one of the kids saying I'm fit."

Matty faked standing up, still holding Y/n, "Okay, I'm going to kill a 13-year-old. Be right back!"

"Matty!" she chuckled. Matty returned them to the previous position.

"How they dare to look at my perfect wife..."

"What can I say?" she joked.

"Mommy!" the youngest of the house ran into the studio.

Y/n turned around on Matty's lap, looking at her. "What's wrong, baby?" she asked her 9-year-old daughter.

"Archie doesn't let me play." she whines.

"Oh, what a horrible brother." Matty exclaimed, gaining her attention. Ruth's face changed instantly, having her father's attention. Y/n tried hard to not roll her eyes. They had many conversations about him continued to baby her even when she was that old. "Come here, my darlin'."

Ruth ran to sit on his lap, on the other side her mother was sitting on.

"Why he's not letting you play?"

"He says I'll not understand the game." Matty turned to look at Y/n as if Arthur had said Ruth was Hitler.

"Mat-" she started.

"I'm going to talk with him latter." he promised her, bringing her closer to his chest. "What about Mel? Where's she?"

"She's not home." Ruth sit back, smiling at Matty.

Her father frowned and Y/n started to feel warm. "What do you mean, Ruti? I saw her two hours ago..."

"Mathilde Ruth..." Y/n tried to stop her, but she was Matty's female version.

"Mel is out with her boyfriend." she said in her innocent voice.

Matty stared at her, trying not to freak out. "Boyfriend?"

"Yes! I meet him, he's nice...he gave me candies!"

"Of course you like him."

"Ruth, remember this was something between Mel, you and me?" Y/n ignored Matty's eyes and grip.

"Oh, no..." she placed her hand on her mouth dramatically.

"Y/n, Mel has a boyfriend?" Matty asked directly.

"Matty...you have to ask her, I'm not going to betray her trust-" she started to ramble.

"Y/n." he didn't shout, but he was angry.

"Baby..."

"Don't baby me. Just say yes or no."

Y/n hesitated and just nodded. "Oh fuck, no." Matty exclaimed.

"Matty!"

"Daddy!"

They scolded him, but his mind was in another dimension.

I HOPE YOU LIKE THISSSS

#all i need #matty healy fic #best mutuals #matty healy x reader #matty healy fanfiction

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kwisatzworld · 1 year ago

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“The other thing that takes a lot of time is the girls! There are always a lot of girls at every Grand Prix, but a lot of really young girl fans come to see me in Italy, 12 and 13-year-olds. I prefer older girls who are real fans of me as a racer – not teeny-boppers.” (Italian GP 1998)

“I have to say I don’t like leaving home to go racing at this time of year - there are too many beautiful girls around where I live, and they don’t wear so many clothes during the summer.” (British GP 1998)

Even back in his 125 and 250 days his infectious enthusiasm was breaking the sport to whole new audiences, amongst them the Valenteenyboppers, gangs of Italian schoolgirls drawn to racetracks by their heartthrob's pretty blue eyes. Valentino doesn't appreciate that kind of attention because he's a bit of a biking purist. “They're not fans of Rossi the motorcycle racer, but just because I've got blue eyes, I don't like,” he says with faint exasperation after years spent fleeing these seething ranks of moist, pubescent Latin lovelies. “It's good to have one or two nice girls chasing you, but not one thousand.” That's what he says, but you wonder if he really means it once you've been inside his motorhome, watching him and constant companion Uccio Salucci giggling madly as they field lewd text messages from female admirers.

Mat Oxley: It was Imola ‘97 that I realised he’d become a superstar – his fans covered half the hillside on the pit straight, so he was already more popular than Doohan and Biaggi. You’d go to his motorhome and there’d be 20 teenage girls hanging around outside, even though he had a girlfriend at the time. Uccio: We really enjoyed having so many girls around! Maybe some top riders or superstars worry “Is this girl coming to see me because I’m famous or does she really like me?”, but Valentino didn’t think like that, he always said “I don’t care why she’s coming, I’m just happy that she is coming!”

Of course, with the late nights came the girls, and Valentino was getting through them at a rate. One of the few big-name riders to count himself ‘single’, he had finally copped onto the fact that he’s young, rich and the ladies love him, so, why on earth would he want to go steady just yet? As Italian MotoGP mover and shaker Carlo Pernat says: “I've never seen so many girls around a rider, maybe Barry Sheene or Marco Lucchinelli (500 world champ in 1981) but never so many. Valentino doesn't like to stay with a girl more than two or three months. He still lives like a kid now, with the same friends, the same way of life. After the racing is finished it's impossible to find him, no one knows where he goes, maybe he's in London, maybe he's in a disco with some friends he's known since he was a boy. He never changes, he doesn't want to be famous, he doesn't want a movie star girlfriend, he doesn't want to be in the papers with famous people.”

Valentino excuses himself by insisting that long-term girlfriends don't fit the GP lifestyle. “I brought a girlfriend to the Barcelona race but now is finished,” he said midway through 2003. When you make this life is very difficult to have a girl. If you bring her to a GP maybe she's bored, so I stay alone at races, is better. Then when you stay one week at a racetrack, you come back home and you have some power to use, you need to have fun, go out with friends, go to the disco, but your girlfriend has just stayed one week doing all this kind of stuff, so when I come home, she say ‘can we see a movie?'. So is difficult.”

Q: Did the life of a boyfriend change him? Graziano: I don't think so, he keeps going dancing, but with his girlfriend.

Who would the MotoGP rider Valentino Rossi invite at dinner from the sports world? The Italian answered this question in an interview with Blick. “That's where I would call Roger Federer. We already had this pleasure in Portugal in 2006, but it was a long time ago. I do not know Cristiano Ronaldo and Lionel Messi on a personal basis, even if I would be interested at those two. Outside the world of sports, I would prefer a beautiful woman! When I was younger, I was loving the actress Angelina Jolie so much. But now she is old, like me (laughter). So I'd pick Scarlett Johansson. Having a nice woman next to me would be better than Roger!”, he said laughing.

“The first ride with the M1 was like going on a date with a new girlfriend: it's more exciting than having ice cream with a new girlfriend than having sex with one you've been dating for years!”

#by mat oxley #mostly #reading

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starry-hughes · 5 months ago

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could you pls give a rundown on who the ppl are lol for example charlie

yes! (daisy’s au, beatrice and cole, kendall and elias, darcy and beau all exist in the same universe)

mom and daisy: mom and quinn were in a hookup relationship when mom became pregnant, daisy is their daughter and she is about to be two years old. mom and quinn are dating at the moment

kendall: kendall is a professional hockey player in the nhl. she plays for the canucks as a center. she is dating elias. she currently is recovering from a broken femur

kasey tkachuk: youngest tkachuk, doesn’t play a sport after an injury, dating mackie samoskevich for almost a year now

charlie: charlie works for the ducks, she met trevor after work one night a year and a half ago. they have a dog named noodle. she put herself through college, worked her way up from the age of 18, drove a shit car until it broke down, lived in a bad place just to make ends meet

darcy: she is kendall’s best friend and when she left her longterm boyfriend after being with him since 18, she moved to vancouver and met beau. she comes from money

sophie and walker: walker is sophie’s nephew and mat was the best friend of walker’s dad. sophie’s sister and brother in law passed away and mat and sophie are now the guardians of walker who is currently almost eight months old. sophie is a lawyer

caroline hughes: a theatre kid, was supposed to graduate in may but took a leave of absence and is currently finishing up her classes in the summer. she is dating kent johnson and moves to ohio at the end of the summer.

sawyer tkachuk: sawyer is an artist, she has mommy and daddy issues, she’s closest with matthew. she is dating quinn. she’s currently pregnant.

eden lee: baby sister of ander’s lee, she starts school for music in the fall, plays piano, is dating matthew rempe after they met at the stadium series

brooklyn barzal: sister of mat barzal, is dating luke hughes. she moved away from canada in high school after getting into a car accident. she doesn’t drive and she hates rain/thunder/lightning/storms of any kind.

beatrice: she is the babysitter for daisy and has been dating canucks baby cole mcward. she moved to vancouver to get away from her toxic ex and family. she’s currently in school studying to be a children speech pathologist

carson hughes: adopted by the hughes when she was 13 after her parents were in the house that burned down, is dating brendan brisson. she is scared of all fires or anything to do with fire. she just graduated college and eventually they become a foster home and foster kids and carson opens up a center to help kids transition from foster care to permanent homes

#daisy’s au!#kendall and elias #kasey and mackie #charlie and trevor #eden and matt #caroline and kent #darcy and beau #sawyer and quinn #brooklyn and luke #beatrice and cole

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rosegardenrequiem · 2 years ago

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ranpo and fukuzawa headcanons!!

ranpo still lives with fukuzawa in the spare bedroom he moved into 13 years ago.

ranpo easily gets bored so he’s always eager to bug fukuzawa. when fukuzawa is especially insistent that he finish his work, ranpo mopes and lazes around (in front of fukuzawa just so he's aware of his boredom) until they can actually do smth together.

fukuzawa always held ranpo’s hand crossing the street when he was younger. he’s almost gotten himself killed many times. ranpo insists he doesn’t need his hand held in present day but his spatial awareness on the road hasn't improved. fukuzawa still holds his hand.

because of this, fukuzawa instinctively tries to hold the other agents’ hands when he crosses the road with them. sometimes he catches his mistake too late. ranpo’s influence on him is way too heavy.

well, he also held ranpo's hand in crowds so they wouldn't be separated. now well into ranpo's adult life, fukuzawa instinctively holds his hand out within a crowd in search of ranpo, who always takes the invitation.

ranpo normally picks off fukuzawa’s plate or straight up eats his food and feels bad about it later (see: the episode of wan where he eats his daifuku) so sometimes he sets snacks aside for him. fukuzawa doesn't want them, so ranpo ends up eating them anyway, but he appreciates the offer.

fukuzawa sometimes feels melancholic about ranpo being an adult, but is comforted when he thinks about how nothing really changed since he was a kid.

after fukuzawa woke up from the cannibalism ability, ranpo clung to him like a koala. for a long time. fuku just had to adapt to it.

speaking of koalas, ranpo always makes fukuzawa carry him. fukuzawa had to get good at carrying his adult weight, but it wasn’t really a problem for him. fukuzawa felt it was important in case ranpo needed to be moved in an emergency.

ranpo sometimes needs to be forced to eat vegetables. like a child, fukuzawa tells him he can’t leave the table until he finishes everything.

ranpo is nyctophobic (i got the idea from the onsen drama cd where ranpo said he can't sleep in complete darkness) so fukuzawa has had to comfort him in the dark many times.

ranpo gets paranoid in the dark because he feels vulnerable. he can't see his surroundings and therefore isn't in control like he likes to be. the only time he can be calm/sleep in the dark is if he can physically feel fukuzawa, bc he knows he'll be protected.

they do take naps together too. like on a tatami mat or something, where ranpo can sprawl out. tho more often it's fukuzawa watching over ranpo while he naps.

when ranpo gets sick, he's whiny asf and cries because he hates the pain (he's just like me fr). but fukuzawa is there to wipe his tears, urge him to stop crying, and press a cool cloth to his forehead.

that's when he gets clingier. like ranpo is already clingy with fukuzawa. he pulls on his sleeve for attention, he hooks onto his arm while they walk, he bonks his head against him like a cat when he feels so inclined.. that kind of thing

but it increases tenfold when he's sick. he'll curl into fukuzawa's side and refuse to let him leave even if it's for something he needs. luckily fukuzawa knows how to respond to it by now. he'll rub his back or stroke his hair and ranpo leans into the touch.

ranpo didn't like fukuchi because of his rowdiness, especially when he got drunk. whenever he visited, ranpo would hide behind/cling to fukuzawa and scowl at him. kind of like he wanted to claim fukuzawa's attention.

and this upset fukuzawa :( he knew he couldn't force ranpo to play nice, but he wished the two most important people in his life could get along. (ahem. and then chapter 103 is a whole other can of worms,,,)

of the different ways to refer to your father in japanese, ranpo calls him "papa" as opposed to "otou-san" because in japan it's considered casual and childish (which ranpo very much is)

ALSO ALSO this is a huge and very important headcanon of mine. they're both aroace :)) aroace father and son!! i imagine fukuzawa is totally disinterested in romance and wanted to prioritize raising his child. ranpo is the same, not really understanding what's so great about dating. (probably projecting bc i am aro, myself)

but this is something they came to learn about each other and bonded over. they don't need romance, cause they're the love of each other's lives. (i love using that term in a non-romantic context)

i just love them very much and reading untold origins inspired me. their canonical father/son relationship is the bestestest thing in the world so i cannot get enough of it. expect to hear more about them from me eventually :,)))

#ranpo edogawa #fukuzawa yukichi #bsd #bungou stray dogs #f*kuran shippers DNI #bsd headcanons #my favorite father/son duo <3 #they need more content #might write a fic about them sometime #i swear i'll write more about them #i've been obsessed with their relationship #aroace ranpo #aroace fukuzawa

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shadow-is-here-and-queer · 9 months ago

Text

SUBJECT 42

Fic Warnings: Child Abuse, Child/Animal Experimentation

The turtle was crawling around a junkyard. They had smelled food, they were starving. They began digging in the garbage, all four hands moving in a pattern to remove as much trash as possible so they could locate the food. They found some… horrifying looking meat, but consumed it anyway. They were so… hungry. There was the sound of footsteps, and then they felt a hand on them. They turned fast, or they tried, but they were small enough to be easily picked up by one hand. They began rapidly trying to bite whatever had grabbed them, wiggling around and kicking out with their legs as they were shoved into this… weirdly shaped box. It was filled with a gas, and everything went black.

They woke up in a blank room, which had a circular mat. They crawled over to it, sniffing at it. Their arms hurt… Looking, they saw bandages on their arms. They heard a weird shwoosh sound, and they turned to see a strange person delivering a tray of bland looking food. But they didn’t care, as they immediately began eating it. Food is food, after all. The person left, and they began looking around the room more. They scampered around, rubbing their hands on the walls and floors and making strands of webbing everywhere. They didn’t care what they were doing, all six of their eyes bright with happiness. They turned and looked at the door, seeing someone new standing there. They didn’t… understand that face, but they went back to decorating!

It was hell. Just one day in, and they already know what hell is. They sat in the corner of their room, staring at the bandages all over their hands. All four of their hands. They can’t make webs anymore. They can’t… they can’t make their room more cozy anymore. They lost the privileges for the bed… now they just sleep on the floor. They hated it. They hated the blades that had dug into their skin, they hated the tools that tore out their web makers… they don’t know what they're called. They shake at the memory, curling into themself.

3,287 days passed. They hated… everything. They walked into a room, the scientists told them that they were approximately 13 years old. They don’t… know what a year is. Or how long it is. They looked at the operating table, and they were led onto it. They were tied to it and they watched as needles approached them, too close to their face for comfort. They let out a scared chirp, and the lead scientist just looked so… mad.

The next thing they knew, the fangs from their lower jaw were removed. They were quickly injected with a sedative, but before it kicked in… they felt blades and tools going into their legs. They couldn’t even scream.

Waking up, they just felt so much pain in their legs. They sat up, looked down… and their legs looked different. More like the scientists’ legs. They tried to get up to leave, but just immediately collapsed from the pain. They saw someone they viewed… nicely, at the door. They smiled, and the person helped them up. The person was the same age as them. They liked the feeling in their chest caused by them…

A week passed, and they were now restrained to a chair with their head forced upwards. They were staring at the beaker that one of the scientists held, and as they were taking some liquid from it, they heard some of the chatter. They’re usually too drugged up to hear it… but they aren't now.

“This test will see what this chemical can do to the eyes. It is hypothesized that it could damage eyes and even skin, but this is the only thing we can test it on.”

Their eyes widened, and they began frantically struggling. One of their arms broke free, causing them to smack the beaker. All the liquid fell onto their face, onto the three eyes on their left side and onto the skin. They let out a pained screech as the chemicals burned and burned, and it felt like years before someone finally helped them. They barely remembered anything after. Just the pain…

They were a month away from their birthday. They wanted to escape to leave, they only told their friend about their plan. Oh, they were just so ready! They even learned what their feelings were! At least, they think they know…. Love. They love their friend. They’re so happy, they’ll escape and their friend will help them and-

Love is fake. Love is just pain and betrayal. Those were their thoughts as electricity flowed their their body, their eyes glued to their friend the scientist with the guard by them. The guard had a taser aimed at them and was smiling while shocking them. Everything was hurting. Everything was burning. They couldn’t even get up when the physical pain stopped and they were lifted from where they were on the ground. They were so close…

They weren’t fed that day.

A year passed, and they hated how light they were. They hated all the tests. They hated everything. All of their limbs hurt, they are only given one small meal a day. And it’s all their fault… them and their stupid trust in that one volunteer. They angrily kicked the wall that was filled with dents. They screamed. They cried. They hated all their emotions now.

Many years passed, the doctors all said they were 18 now. Great, spent 14 years of their life locked away and tested on. Fun, just amazing. They don’t even know how to talk anymore. They refused to after the betrayal. The feelings are just numb now. They stop walking to the room they were supposed to, staring at the vent. They could… they could leave. They gained the trust of the scientists…

They’re free! They actually did it! They gazed around the city they haven’t seen in 14 years. They let out many happy chirps as they zoomed up a building and began looking around, only to hear many gasps behind them. They turned and stared at these… four… turtles? And immediately attacked the smaller one, knocking him out with a bite before getting knocked out by a hit to the head.

They watched the four turtles anxiously, staying on top of the fridge as they were all discussing ways to get them down. What is an Arachne… and why do they like it?

SUBJECT 42 DENISE Arachne

#rottmnt oc #my art #my writing #child abuse #child experimentation #animal experimentation

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nakanotamu · 2 years ago

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help please I've discovered the gif of Syuri kissing Utami Hayashishita, and then Utami's post-match reaction, can you please tell me if there was followup, what else happened?!

Oh my goodness anon CAN I EVER (sorry I waited days to respond to this I've been having A Time)

Okay so immediately after the kiss they didn't have any matches against each other for a few weeks until their singles match in the Cinderella Tournament that year. Utami spends this time pining and wondering if Syuri really likes her and Syuri keeps teasing her on Twitter. Syuri eliminated Utami and even though it was just Over The Top Rope it ended up being enough to earn a title match given that Utami also wanted to fight her.

Their first title match was really good, real unstoppable force vs immovable object type stuff. They fight to a 30-minute draw just as Syuri seems to be getting the advantage, lay on the mat for 2 minutes and say they both want to keep fighting and are granted an extension. That 2 minutes was enough for Utami to get her wind back and negate the advantage Syuri had had, and they fight 13 more minutes to a double knockout.

Utami (and her tag partner and perennially friend-zoned bestie Saya Kamitani) challenge Syuri (and her tag partner at the time and perennially friend-zoned worstie Giulia) for their tag belts bc they can't fucking keep away from each other or leave each other alone at this point and it's in the leadup to that match that they have the unbelievably charged staredown you've hopefully seen gifs of that was somehow even more homoerotic than when they actually kissed.

I don't remember specifically what happened in the tag belt match but it's not super important, Syuri & Giulia retained.

They had another match in the 5 Star GP that year and they were both desperate to finally beat the other going into it, fully aware given the year they were having 20 minutes probably wouldn't be long enough, and they were right, fighting to a vicious draw where they both clearly had more left in the tank.

Syuri won 2021's 5 Star GP and with that earned another title shot against Utami. She asked to get her title match not at the next big show, as had been customary in previous years, but at their huge Ryogoku Kokugikan show at the end of the year, Dream Queendom, so she could be as prepared for Utami as possible and they could fight on the biggest stage possible, as she felt they deserved. Because she defers her title shot she has to defend the right to challenge a few times in the interim, but she's on a mission, unwavering and seemingly obsessed with the red belt, and finally taking it from Utami. They request their title match be no time-limit this time for obvious reasons.

They fight for only 33 minutes, the lack of a break at half an hour proving to be what Syuri needed, this time pressing her late game advantage and able to capitalize where she ran out of time before. Syuri is finally the red belt champion, and Utami is crushed.

That chapter of their story pretty much came to a close at that point, but every interaction between them was still like, significant. Every time they face each other it was incredibly obvious how important they are to each other's growth. Utami spends much of 2022 rebuilding herself after losing the belt, sometimes trying to take it easy and recharge and sometimes trying to get her groove back, trying to learn how to be the new leader of Queen's Quest. She also cuts her hair god fuckin bless

They face each other in the 5 Star again, and Syuri is faltering this year. Seemingly every person in her block understandably sees her as a huge target, Utami included. Between the pressures of being in the tournament as champion and leading her new unit, God's Eye, Syuri can't balance everything and prepare for everyone and she's overwhelmed. Utami, on the other hand, comes in immensely prepared for Syuri this time, beating her in just under 15 minutes. (The 5 Star thankfully has a shorter time limit again now than it did in 2021.)

After the 5 Star Syuri has one other defence to get through first, and then accepts Utami's challenge, to make up for her loss in the tournament. To Syuri, she wants to purge the blemish from her record as champion and prove the red belt is unqestionably hers, but she's a little excited to face Utami again. Utami tries to hide it but she's a little desperate to turn back the clock, thinking if she can just go back to who she was a year ago she can handle her current struggles.

The lead up to that match is, god, fucking -

I hate them.

Anyway Syuri successfully defends in another really, really good match. Utami tries desperately to turn back time, go back to the way she fought, the person she was, a year ago. But Syuri's already beaten that person. She peels the layers off of her and fights her with raw emotion, dragging the same out of Utami until she's forced to fight as she is now, scared and uncertain and angry and passionate. Syuri makes her stare herself in the face and then beats her again. But after, she tells Utami she is her greatest rival, and she wants to do this over and over again for as long as they both can. Utami cries.

And as of now, that's where things stand between them, though no stories in wrestling are ever truly finished. They don't currently have reason to go after each other, though they'll never be completely unentangled from each other at this point. They're both leading their units in the upcoming Triangle Derby, which starts in January, and they are in opposite blocks, which means they will face each other. I'd guess the question this time will be whether they face each other on equal footing as two unit leaders who are expected to head their team in the tournament, or if they won't be able to help but have things get personal again. They face each other on the very first show of the tournament, January 3rd.

#long post #Stardom #joshi puroresu #Syuri #Utami Hayashishita #please please if you have questions about Stardom stories absolutely feel free to ask me them lol #my writing

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donteattheappleshook · 1 year ago

Text

Not Broken At All Chapter 14/?

Summary:

A season 1 Neverland AU. Emma is still trying to adjust to her new life as Sheriff of Storybrooke and mom to Henry, who still believes everyone in town is a fairytale creature. When she finds a badly beaten, one handed man while patrolling, she’s convinced he’s crazy. He is, after all, rambling about fairies and shadows and crocodiles. But when Henry is suddenly taken out the window of a house everyone believes is haunted, the madman in the hospital might be her only hope of getting her son back. Whether he likes it or not.

Rated E

Catch up on Ao3 (where my italics work) or on Tumblr 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

Sorry for how long this chapter took - It was literally just writer’s block this time. Strap in friends we’re getting into the dark(er) parts of Neverland.

Thank you thank you thank you thank you always @the-darkdragonfly and @elizabeethan for your help with this feral fic 😘

*******

Part 14

It’s silent as they make their way back through the jungle, none of them finding words to fill the quiet, not in the wake of devastation of the day’s events. She’d forgotten her son. Killian had forgotten… something. Something he’d never even know to miss now - because of her. He’d done it for her. And for Henry.

Emma looks back at where he trails behind them, the flowing robes of the fairy court replaced with his usual leather, his hook silver once more, a faint glimmer in the darkness. He’s lost to his thoughts, not looking ahead as he follows the unmarked path back to the Jolly by memory.

Hardly any light makes it through the canopy of trees, the darkness playing tricks on her mind, time losing meaning. How long had they been in the fairy court? How many hours - days even? With the way time works here, Emma thinks she might never truly know the answer.

She watches as he casts a glance over his shoulder, staring at where they came from, the faint glow of the Solstice lights long faded now, then turns back, brow pinched tight in confusion, frustration tugging at his jaw - like he’s forgotten something, left something behind in that forest and aches to go back for it. Her eyes burn. Wendy sees it too, watching Killian with a sorrowful expression, grieving in his place - because he can’t and someone should mourn what he’s lost.

Tinkerbell stumbles, sweat beading her brow, pale with exhaustion and Emma winces, nodding when Wendy insists they need to stop - just for a minute - she promises when the fairy tries to protest. But the sigh of relief she lets out when the young woman - now once again in her disguise of matted hair and shadowed features - helps lower her down into the grass and leaves.

It takes Wendy a moment to coax Hook into sitting on a fallen log, flinching when she first touches a gentle hand to his arm, resisting a light tug as she guides him away from the path - still looking back. “It’s okay,” she promises. “I kept them safe for you- every single one.”

He looks at her then and something passes between them, something private and intimate that Emma doesn’t think she’ll ever understand, born of centuries of friendship and trust. Wendy’s voice is low when it weaves through the grove to her ears, so soft she wouldn’t have heard it were it not for the deafening silence still wrapped around them.

“They can’t be forgotten so long as someone remembers, right?”

“I don’t know which parts of her are missing,” he confesses. He sounds scared, like she’d been when she’d felt Henry fading away and she wants to help him, even if she doesn’t know how. But he has Wendy. It’s not Emma’s place to comfort him.

“It was a year after you met her in the tavern - almost exactly.” Emma looks away, feeling she’s intruding, hovering awkwardly in the middle of the field. “You promised yourself you wouldn’t ask her again, that you’d stop after the last time she said no - not when she’d be leaving Bae behind. You wanted to be selfless for her.”

She shouldn’t hear this, it’s not meant for her. But the words find their way to her regardless and she’s lost for a moment to the faint memory of a heart inked onto skin, a dagger run through it, a portrait of dark hair and laughing eyes. The name he’d given up in that cave. Milah.

Killian gives a single huff of self-deprecating laughter. “I suppose I failed.”

She considers sitting with Tink, but the glare the fairy gives her when she takes a hesitant step towards her, makes her think better of it.

“No. You were going to let her go and make the decision for her - like an idiot. You didn’t even go to the tavern.”

“But she did come. We had ten years, didn't we?” The fear creeps into his voice again.

She finds Will, sitting a few dozen feet away, watching the two of them, longing in every line of his face, and plops down beside him, wrapping her arms around her leather-clad knees, missing the flowy skirts more than she expected.

“Oh yeah. She found you. Barged onto your ship and cussed you out for being a coward.”

“That sounds about right.” The gentle grief and the longing in such a simple sentence aches deep in her heart. Whoever she was to him, he loved her completely.

“You’re pining again,” Emma teases, trying to block out their voices.

His eyes are fixed on the captains whispering softly across from them, heads bent low and close, voices still finding them in the quiet.

“You fought. Or at least she yelled at you until you finally told her why you didn’t come, why you were leaving. Then she yelled at you more.” Emma chances a glance at them, catches the small smile tugging at his mouth.

She nudges Will’s shoulder with her own when he doesn’t answer.

“He abandoned her.” William’s hissed words catch her off guard, his eyes still glazed, but they’re clearer than they’d been in the Fae realm, and she thinks that maybe his high has taken a downward turn. “He just left her here. Alone.”

“... She asked you to take her with you.”

Emma glances at Wendy and Killian again. She doesn’t think they can hear, or at least they aren’t listening, too wrapped up in their own conversation. “I know.”

“She hears the Lost Boys now.”

“I know.”

“...She asked me?”

“Do you remember why?”

“No…”

“She hears them because of him. And still he gets to be… I’ve never abandoned her. I’ve been here. I’ve -” he doesn’t finish, but it’s not hard to guess. “She’s never let me in. I’ll never know her like he does. No matter how long I’m by her side, how many times I try to prove it to her…”

“... Because he’d never have let her go. But you would.”

“I’ll never be him.” He looks down at his hands, pulling apart a stray leaf with intense concentration. “So it’ll never be enough.” It takes her a moment to realize what exactly she’s seeing in his expression.

“If it made her happy, if it was what she wanted.”

“You’re jealous?”

“You’re not?”

She’s about to argue - that it’s absolutely ridiculous that she could be jealous of Killian’s relationship with anyone. She’s only known him a matter of days, and he and Wendy’s relationship is completely platonic anyway. But Will knows that. It’s the depth of their relationship he longs for, the complete trust and openness they share.

“You’d choose her. Even if it meant losing her.”

She’s never trusted someone so completely, never let someone know her so intimately. She nearly did, once. But Neal’s betrayal had only reminded her how dangerous trust could be, shown her how vulnerable being vulnerable could make her.

“You loved her. More than he’d ever even tried to.”

“I…” Emma doesn’t even know what she’s feeling.

Will freezes, alert for the first time since this morning. “Where’s Tink?”

Emma turns to look at where the fairy had just been, the patch of grass empty, Wendy and Killian suddenly on their feet, hands at their swords, tension rolling through the jungle. A hand comes over her mouth, an arm wrapped around her waist as she’s dragged back into the trees, fighting only for a moment before she hears Will’s voice low in her ear. “Quiet.”

Kneeling in the dirt, he keeps his hold on her, doesn’t move his hand from her mouth, hiding them behind dense trees and tall grass, his body stiff against her back, his heart pounding so hard she can feel it. It’s not until she hears the rustle of leaves, of twigs snapping under footsteps that she realizes what’s made him so terrified.

“Pan. To what do we owe the displeasure?”

Pan. She can’t fully see him - straining against Will’s death-grip to try to get a better view - but there’s a laugh, young and cruel, that floats through the darkness.

“I heard you were back and I had to see it for myself.”

“Aye, well, now you have, so you can take your leave.”

“Is that all the time you have for your old friend?”

“We were never friends,” Killian reminds him grimly.

Pan tuts, like they are old friends, like it’s an old, inside joke. “Captain Darling,” he greets Wendy. “Or is it lieutenant now? I must say I’m almost disappointed by your demotion. I’d grown quite fond of having you as an adversary.”

“That makes one of us.”

Another laugh. Emma twists against Will’s arm, tugging at the hand over her mouth, but he’s unyielding, and she glares into the darkness because she can’t glare at him, debating licking his palm like a five year old.

“What do you want, boy? I’m in no mood for games.”

“So defensive. And after I helped you find your revenge you’d been after for so long.”

Killian scoffs, biting out his answer. “You didn’t do anything but send me to a swift death.”

“I sent you with everything you needed.”

“You lied.”

Emma does lick Will’s hand this time. It only tightens against her.

Pan sounds almost offended, but his amusement is thinly veiled. “I didn’t lie. I told you your villain was in a realm without magic and gave you the poison you wanted.”

“He was supposed to be powerless.”

“I never actually said he’d be powerless. You assumed he would be. And I take it you assumed wrong.”

Killian doesn’t answer for a long moment. “You cheated.”

“You didn’t pay attention to the rules. I’d think you’d be better at making deals, what with all that time spent in the Fae lands.”

“Have you just come to brag? Because I believe that could have waited until morning.”

“I merely came to thank you for delivering the boy to me. You fulfilled your duty admirably - Though I’d have preferred not to wait a decade.”

Henry. He has Henry. Emma squirms, trying to break free, to stand and demand Pan bring her to her son - or just wring his stupid, sadistic neck. She jabs an elbow into Will’s ribs and he lets out a shallow grunt before pulling her against him, squishing her arm between them.

“The time passed was Neverland’s doing, not mine. Though I must say I’ve found it much changed. The jungle seems to have taken on a life of its own.”

Shut up, Killian, she wants to warn him. But she can’t. She can barely even move. How the hell is Will this strong? He’s like a hundred pounds soaking wet. Is there some Neverland gym she isn’t aware of? She’d be impressed if she wasn’t so pissed off. Pan hears the mocking in Killian’s words too, his answer less friendly than before.

“Things in Neverland don’t change - but the minds of grownups easily are. You must be misremembering after so much time away.” He’s lying. If they didn’t know it for certain before, they do now - he’s losing control.

“Aye, that must be it.” There’s pause, the three of them staring each other down, Wendy’s hand still braced on the hilt of her sword. “Was there another reason for your visit? Or were you just here to corroborate my return and deliver your thanks?”

Pan lets out a tisk. “I came to let you know that you should expect some new additions to your crew soon.” She feels Will’s harsh breath against her ear, his hand slackening over her mouth and despite her earlier struggles, the absolute terror she can feel in the stillness of his body makes her keep her mouth shut, keeps her rooted to the spot. “There’ll be a hunt tomorrow. I trust you’ll make the necessary preparations to receive the survivors.”

Killian doesn’t speak, and for a moment silence hangs between them. Emma doesn’t dare to even breathe. Wendy finally answers, the word heavy. “Aye.”

“Excellent,” Pan says, all that false friendliness back. “I’ll leave you to it then. I’ve preparations to make myself with it being the new boy’s first hunt and all. Always so much more exciting to see how they do the first time, isn’t it?” Will’s hand is immediately firm on her mouth again. What hunt? What survivors? What the hell is he having Henry do tomorrow?

“I wouldn't know,” Killian answers darkly.

“Ah, but lieutenant Darling does - And so does young Scarlet,” he adds, casting a glance in their direction and Emma tenses, finally able to see him properly.

He’s so much younger than she expected, small and thin with wide eyes and a tanned, rosy-cheeked face. He looks like a child, soft blonde curls falling over his eyes, just a little boy, not much older than Henry, incapable of the cruelty she’s been told about.

“... Wherever he is,” Pan finishes with a wry, boyish smirk. “Not like him to miss a Solstice.” He turns back to Killian and Wendy. “Until tomorrow then,” he promises, before disappearing into the trees.

No one moves for several minutes after he leaves, watching the forest and the sky, waiting. It’s not until Tink returns that Will lets out a breath, finally dropping his hand, looking at it and then her in disgust before wiping his palm over his shirt, muttering something about ‘disgusting’.

“What’s the hunt?” she asks him. “Will,” she presses when he doesn’t answer. “What was he talking about?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” he says, standing and making his way over to the others. She follows - not letting him ignore her.

“He mentioned Henry.”

“Are you alright?” Killian asks her, looking panicked and relieved at the same time.

“No. What’s happening tomorrow?” she demands. “What’s it got to do with Henry?”

“Your boy’s not in danger, Swan,” he promises. “Pan won’t harm him.”

She knows he’s not lying. But he’s hiding something. “Killian…” He scratches his nails through the scruff at his jaw, avoiding her gaze. “What’s the hunt?”

Tinkerbell answers her at last, blunt and to the point as she’s come to expect. “Every few months, whenever some of the Lost Boys have gotten too old, or there are too many of them, Pan thins them out.”

“Thins them out?”

“It’s vile and barbaric,” Killian hisses.

“Tell me.”

“The older boys are forced to find their way from the camp to the beach while the younger ones try to prevent them from reaching it. Those that make it, become members of the crew, like the men you saw yesterday.”

“And the others…”

“Are killed,” Tink says flatly. “It’s called a hunt for a reason.”

She’s not sure she’s breathing - images of a cruel massacre painted as a game flashing in her mind, growing worse with every one.

“Swan,” Killian tries carefully, standing and shortening the distance between them. “Henry is only ten - and Pan chose him for a reason. He won’t be hunted.”

“No - but Pan said - he’ll want him to… he’ll be expected to hunt won’t he?” Panic sets in, unable to steady her shaking hands and racing heart, unable to fill her lungs, constricting in her chest. Pan’s going to make Henry hunt other children - he’s going to make him kill other children. She thinks of her son, so young and kind and happy, imagining all the ways Pan could twist that thirst for life and adventure into something dark and sinister. She turns towards the jungle. “We can’t let - we have to stop him - I -”

Will grabs her again, stopping her from running she doesn’t even know where - wherever Pan’s camp is, if she could even find it. “Let me go,” she orders. But Will’s hold on her tightens.

“I swear to god, if you lick me again…”

“Let me go.”

“You can’t go after him, Emma,” Wendy says, having the decency to make it sound like an apology. “Not yet. If you try to stop Pan now it’ll be the last thing you do - and everything we’ve done will be for nothing.” Wendy levels her with a look. “Henry needs you alive.”

“I can’t just let him kill someone!” she shouts, refusing to accept his reasoning, fighting Will with everything she’s got, but he’s a goddamn marble statue, her nails digging into his arms not seeming to bother him at all. She can’t stop seeing it: Henry with a blade in his hand, blood - his or someone else's - staining his clothes, his skin, children being chased and cut down, her son being the one to do it. If Henry does this, if Pan makes him do this - even if he thinks it’s a game… it’ll destroy him. “I have to stop him,” she sobs. “I can’t let him -”

It’s only when Will finally lessens his hold enough to let her sink to her knees, her legs no longer able to support her, that she realizes she’s crying. She can’t stop, her emotions not her own anymore, body shaking and stomach burning. Killian kneels down with her in the grass and the mud and the dirt, arms coming around her, pulling her heaving and shaking against his chest.

She pushes against him, words barely coherent. “Please. You said you would get him back.” His hold on her tightens, both a comfort and a restraint, holding her together as best as he can and she finds herself leaning into it even as she wants to run. Henry’s in danger. Henry needs her. And she’s helpless. “You said you’d protect him.”

“I am,” he says softly. “Henry has a good heart, love, and a strong will. He knows right from wrong.”

She wishes she could believe them, knows that her son is a good kid, hopes that what they’re saying is true, that he won’t participate, that he’ll stay out of it. But Will hasn’t said a word, his silence unsettling as he stands stoically looking at the ground, jaw tensed and knuckles white against the handle of his cutlass.

“Will?” she asks, pulling herself from Killian’s embrace, the cold on her skin matching that in her veins.

He looks at her out of the corner of his eye but doesn’t answer. How long did he say he was on the ship? Seven years? Eight? And Pan had nearly killed him when he decided to leave. The hunt can’t even be a distant memory for him yet, and his refusal to comment makes her think it might trouble him even now. Wendy puts a hand on his arm, comforting and instinctual and he drags his gaze up to look at Emma properly.

He sighs. “Pan won’t force him. He’s got this thing about free will - or the illusion of it.” She can tell this is the good before the bad and she braces herself, waiting. “He likes the boys to follow him because they want to. But he can be convincing. And Henry might not know what he’s doing until it’s too late. He might not know that it’s real.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a game. Some of the boys don’t understand that their arrows are real, that their spears are sharp until they’ve killed one of the other kids. And even then…” He hesitates, a pained frown pulling at his brow and Emma reaches for something to hold on to, finding the brace of Killian’s hook that stays steadfast in her grip. “We didn’t know. Or maybe we did but we chose not to believe it, to believe that it was just a game, that they weren’t really hurt, that they weren’t really dead - that it was all pretend.” He winces and her heart breaks for the memories he must be reliving. “Neverland is a place of belief, and Pan can make someone believe nearly anything if they trust him enough.”

He grows more loyal to the boy with each passing day. I fear soon he will give Pan what he wants if he is not stopped. Tiger Lily’s words echo in the silence as a fear she wasn’t prepared for creeps in. What if Henry becomes a Lost Boy not because he thinks she’s abandoned him, but because he chooses Pan? She looks at Wendy and at Will, both kind and brave like her son, both of whom had been under Pan’s spell at some point in their childhoods.

“We have to stop it.”

“We can’t,” Killian shakes his head hopelessly. “We’ve tried before and all he did was decide not to give any of them the chance to run for the ship.”

“Then we have to stop Henry - make sure he doesn’t play this fucked up game.”

“How?” Wendy asks, but it’s not really a question, she knows there isn’t an answer.

“I’m going out there. I’ll stop him myself.”

“That’s suicide, Swan,” Killian tells her harshly. “If he saw you, if he found out what you are - who you are - he wouldn’t risk you coming between him and whatever he has planned for Henry.”

“Well we have to do something!” she snaps. “If Henry does this then we’ll have lost him already.”

“I’ll go.”

The three of them turn, staring at Will in shock.

“No you won’t,” Wendy argues.

“Did you not hear the part about it being a suicide mission?” Killian snaps, annoyed.

“For her it is. I know the jungle. I lived there for decades. You forget I was Pan’s right hand for a long time before joining your crew,” he reminds Wendy. “I know how Pan thinks, how he plays his games.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Killian glares.

Will returns it. “Look, I’ve got the best chance out of all of us of getting to the camp. I can warn Henry not to listen to Pan, no matter what he tries to make him believe. I’ll make sure he doesn’t take part in the hunt tomorrow.”

“You’re not going,” Wendy insists again.

“Wen,” he starts, and Emma sees Killian notice the ease with which the nickname falls from his lips, the familiarity in it.

“It’s too dangerous. If there’s anyone on this island Pan wants dead, it’s you. The fact that you’ve survived this long -”

“Probably means he’s got a plan for the day I won’t. And this isn’t it."

“You’re not doing it,” she snaps, the authority in her voice slipping. There’s fear in her eyes now, a desperation turning her order to a plea. “If he finds you - if he kills you I -”

“Wait until morning,” Killian says and Wendy turns to him, betrayal plain on her face. “He’ll be on his guard tonight, perhaps expecting a retaliation for his visit. Go tomorrow when they’ll be busy preparing for the hunt. He’ll be distracted.”

Will gives a solemn nod tinged with surprise. “Aye.”

Wendy’s eyes dart between the two of them - hurt, fear, anger - before she storms off, disappearing into the woods towards the shoreline.

“Great job,” Tink sneers, glaring at Hook before following after her. “I’m going back to my treehouse. Send a message when it’s time.” Emma feels guilt twist her gut. It should be her. Henry’s her responsibility. But she knows Killian would never let her go. He’d probably lock her in the damn brig if she tried. And she doesn’t think she’d survive crossing the island on her own - no matter how much she insists she could. But it can’t be no one. Someone needs to warn Henry, to protect him.

The two men stare off after Wendy, wearing matching expressions of shame and determination. Will, while still resolute, hangs his head before turning to head back to the beach, but Killian calls his name and he pauses, looking back at the captain.

“Are you sure about this, Scarlet?”

Will glances at the path Wendy disappeared down before meeting Killian’s gaze. “I know what you think of me, Hook. And you’re right,” he tells him. Fifty years, wasn’t it, that they’d said he’d been with Pan? “I can’t change the past or what I did, but I can bloody well try stop it from repeating itself.” He looks at Emma then, a promise unspoken between them and she mouths a silent ‘thank you,’ a small, self-deprecating smile offered in return.

“You’re right,” Killian tells him. “You do know what I think of you.” Emma’s about to turn on him, to tell him off, when he adds. “But the boy I knew wouldn’t have risked his life for anyone, let alone a stranger.”

The look that passes between them, the small nod exchanged before Will follows Wendy to the ship is almost one of understanding. She wouldn’t go so far as to suggest they like each other, but the animosity that they’d both stubbornly clung to until now gives a little, teeters carefully towards a begrudging respect.

And then there’s only her and Killian left, the forest quiet once more.

“I need you to promise that you won’t try and find Henry on your own, that you’ll stay away from Pan’s camp.” Emma doesn’t have a chance to voice her protest before Killian continues. “They’re risking their lives for you, Swan, all of us are - for you and for your son. Don’t let it be for nothing by getting yourself killed and taking away their chance at restitution.”

Her frustration at being told what to do leaves her in a breath, deciding not to argue with him. But she doesn’t promise anything - she can’t, no matter how much she might want to. Henry is a blind spot for her, she can’t always explain her actions or the decisions she makes when it comes to him, the instinct to keep him safe, to put him first and protect him at all costs overwhelming.

Killian only nods at her silence, jaw tensing like he knows the lack of a ‘no’ is the best he’ll get from her, the most she can offer. “Alright,” he sighs, accepting, heavy. “The beach is about a half-mile that way,” he tells her, gesturing towards the direction the others disappeared into. “Don’t stray from east and you should reach the ship shortly. You can probably catch up to Will if you hurry.”

“Where are you going?” Emma frowns, he’s barely let her out of his sight since they arrived.

“To keep your boy from the hunt. I know where to find Pan’s camp.”

“But, I thought Will -”

“Will is… noble, more noble than I thought. But he’s wrong to think Pan won’t kill him if he’s angry enough, regardless of his plans for him.”

“What about you?”

Killian gives a small, confident smirk, one that doesn’t fully reach his eyes. “I’ve had more practice evading death than young Scarlet.” Not quite a lie, but not the truth either. He sighs again, like he knows she sees through him. “Wendy cares for him. I won’t let her lose another person she loves - not if I can prevent it.”

Emma doesn’t answer, a knot tightening in her throat, making it impossible. His display of devotion to the girl he took in when he didn’t have to, risking himself not to protect her, but to protect someone she couldn’t bear to lose - someone he doesn’t even like… Will’s jealousy rings even truer now that it had before. No one’s ever put her first. What must it be like to be loved by Killian Jones? She banishes the thought, Killian nodding at her once, smile weaker now, before turning back to the woods.

“Wait!” I can come with you. The words don’t make it out, stuck in her chest while he watches her in question, halfway between staying and going. She knows he won’t let her, that she’d just slow him down, put him in danger just by being there - someone who doesn’t know the jungle, someone he feels the need to protect. She can’t do that to him, not when he’s going out there for her, for Henry.

She crosses the space between them, the few steps he’d made towards the darker part of the island. Fingers sliding over his cheek, turning his face to hers before either of them can think too long about it, she presses her lips to his, catching the bottom one between her own, sighing softly when he returns her kiss. Mouth warm against hers, his tongue teases gently at the seam of her lips, but he doesn’t reach for her, doesn’t press himself against her like he had in that fairy glen - letting her set the pace.

His eyes are still closed when she pulls back, fingers sliding to his neck, his breath warm on her cheek, “What was…”

“Just don’t die, okay?”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth - a real one this time. “You don’t have to worry about me, Swan. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s surviving.” Emma rolls her eyes and his grin widens in amusement. He better be.

******

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