#but graves is cute even if he is a war criminal <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[skele-ghost]

Fuck in the Graveyard (not really)

Summary: (Graves/Reader) You’ve been taking illegal suppressants for wayyy too long, and when you miss a dose, it all comes crashing down.

Content Warning: A/B/O Omegaverse dynamics, reader is afab, female pronouns?, substance abuse, technically is a fuck or die situation, p in v, knotting, brief fingering

Graves is kinda sweet in this one. I’ve never posted my stuff anywhere before and this is the first fic I’ve written in second person. Let me know what y’all think. I do not take requests.

(*˘︶˘*).｡.:*♡

The thing about taking illegal suppressants is that you have to time them perfectly. You’d better have your cycle down to a science, and you’d better take them three days before your heat, during, and three days after—and don’t you dare take them any more than 24 hours apart.

That’s how you wound up completely fucked: you took one dose two hours too late, and now the suppressants were completely ineffective. Was it really your fault? No, you’d been in the middle of a firefight, for fucks sake! But by some sick case of luck and science that made next to no sense, your heat started to build.

You hid being an Omega as much as you could. It wasn’t exactly a secret—it was there in your file for anyone to see. But so long as your heats were taken care of and you weren’t sending every Alpha within a mile radius into a rut, the military was happy.

And you were happy to let them believe that you were taking the regular course of suppressants that they prescribed you, and not the dangerous, high-dose, illegal ones that you preferred. They made your scent next to undetectable and made sure you could actually think straight when you were suppressing your heat, unlike the regular ones.

You were a specialist, an asset of high importance, and you’d be damned if you’d let your own biology stand in the way of that.

That’s why you liked the Shadows. Graves sent you a job offer after working with you on a mission gone sour in Urzikstan. He admired the way you kept your head cool when the world was falling apart around you. Even when you disclosed your designation, he shrugged it off.

“As long as you can keep your head cool like you did out there, we won’t have any problems,” he’d said.

And you’d kept your promise for nearly two years, now. But that was a long time to go without a heat, and a long time to be surrounded by the heady scent of Alpha unclaimed.

You were ashamed of the way you had to take off earlier. Once everyone was back from the mission, in one piece, settled in, you bolted, feeling the heat and sweat cling to you like a second skin.

It was sheer resolve that allowed you to keep the scent patches on for so long, little bandages clamped over your glands with a strong deodorizer, not letting anything out. You nearly passed out from the intense pain of prying them off your neck and wrists, the scent glands over-sensitive to even a breeze.

You blink away the tears quickly; you have to stay focused. You’ll drive to the safe house and crash there, get something planned. You knew the consequences of completely suppressing your heat for so long with such toxic drugs. Now you had to live with the consequences.

The little white farmhouse is remote, nestled deep in an old growth wood. It was beautiful, living up to the pictures you’d seen when Graves had shown it to you as a precaution. It had been in his family for generations before he fixed it up and decided to turn it into a safe house.

You pant as you put the car in park, staring at the building for a moment, your thoughts jumbled and disconjointed. As much as you want to melt into the seat, you have to get inside. A cold shower—that’s what you promise yourself, meek little motivation.

It manages to pull you out of the truck, onto shaky legs that want to collapse underneath you, but you push on.

They key is behind a brick on the foundation beneath the porch. It takes you a moment to remember which one—Graves had only shown you once.

Since you are the only unclaimed omega in the Shadows, he told you where the house was and how to access it. Just in case you had, in his words, “omega-related problems.” It isn’t too far from base. You’d have to figure out some way to show your eternal gratitude for the man…if you ever saw him again.

You retrieve the key and turn to make your way up the stairs, and that’s when things go sideways. You trip on the last step, crashing onto the porch with a force that shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.

The key falling out of your hand is the last coherent thought that you have before the pain takes over. Your sensitive skin and muscles cry out and it feels like hitting a sore bruise, everywhere.

You whimper, tears rolling down your cheeks as you stare up at the watery image of the porch’s ceiling. There’s a wasp’s nest, gross, but it’s November. They’re either sleeping or dead from the cold.

And thank god it’s cold, because at least your skin doesn’t feel like it’s completely on fire.

You know this is bad. You’ve deteriorated too quickly, the heat sneaking up and hitting you like a blitz attack from the dark.

As much as you hate to admit it, heats are necessary. It gets rid of built-up chemicals in the brain, provides a release to make new ones. Not quite like sleep was necessary, but in a similar fashion.

You’re worried that this one might kill you. You’re worried that if this one isn’t quelled and satisfied, you might end up brain-dead or in an eternal coma like the people in those stories your middle school health class scared you with.

But in the face of death? All that you wish is that you could apologize for the inconvenience. What kind of paperwork would Graves have to fill out for your corpse? Would he get in trouble for not monitoring you, for not knowing about your use of the illegal suppressants?

You slip into unconsciousness, the word ‘sorry’ on the tip of your tongue.

-

A whimper is all you manage as you stir awake, the first thing you notice being the thick, heavy, intoxicating scent of an Alpha, and one you know.

Graves smells like bonfires and bourbon, or maybe it’s whiskey? You make a breathy moan at the smell, brows furrowing as you feel yourself being carried.

“I know, baby, I know,” he says, his voice making a nice rumble trail down your spine.

He’s holding you bridal style and then holds you close to him as he sits down, tucking your head into his neck so that you can scent him.

It cools the flames slightly, letting your mind clear itself of the fog as you finally stir, opening your eyes.

“Com-mander?” You ask, voice not much louder than a whisper.

He pulls you back, glancing down at you, his blue eyes filled with concern. “(Y/N), what’s going on? You don’t smell right, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“Suppressants…not working,” you grit out, whimpering as an uncomfortable cramp begins in your gut.

“The ones you’ve been taking? Why, what’s wrong with them?” He lays you down on the bed he’d been sitting on and you whine at the loss of contact, squinting your eyes shut at the cramping.

You can hear him search through your bag, the one that had been digging painfully into your back a few minutes ago, and you hear the rattle of a pill bottle.

“Oh, (Y/N), you didn’t…” he says, and you can only imagine what his expression is as he looks at the bottle. It’s pretty damning—the prescription bottle with someone else’s name blacked out on it, half empty, label reading exactly what’s inside.

Graves returns to your side, his cool hand on your cheek turning you to look up at him. He looks…betrayed? Crestfallen? Worried, above all else, as he holds the bottle up with one hand.

“(Y/N), tell me you didn’t take these—tell me this isn’t what I think it is,” he demands, the command in his tone making a gush of slick escape you, adding to your already soaked panties.

“M’ sorry,” you whisper, tears blurring up along your waterline.

“Shit, (Y/N),” he growls, tossing the pills onto the bed, running his hands through his hair. “What do I do? You need to go to a hospital, is that it?”

You shake your head, “no, they can’t do anything. And I’d get arrested—ah!” You cry out, curling inwards as a sharp, painful cramp rolls through. Slick gushes out of you again, your organs overproducing as if they need to make up for all the missed heats. After a few agonizing moments it calms down and leaves you gasping, tears rolling down your cheeks.

You know what your options are, you know how fucked up this is, and you know that Graves is probably going to fire you after this—but you also know that you’re not ready for the final alternative.

“Please, it hurts!” You beg, pleading up at the sight of your commander above you, “please, Alpha.”

He closes his eyes and clenches his jaw, pursing his lips in that way you’ve always found so hot, “are you sure? You’re not thinking clearly, (Y/N).”

You nod frantically, grabbing his arm and scenting his wrist, keening at the smell, “please, please, Graves.”

His restraint snaps and he climbs ontop of you, pinning your wrists to the bed and placing his mouth on yours. You moan into it, trying to lift you hips up to get some kind of friction to no avail.

He pulls away and you tilt you head aside to give him better access to your neck as he scents you, breathing in deeply and growling. You cry out as he runs his tongue and teeth along the glands.

“I never got a good smell of you, (Y/N), you always wear those damn patches and I always want to rip them off,” he nibbles along your jaw, your whines and whimpers filling the small bedroom.

“Alpha, please,” you beg, desperate, clenching around nothing when you want to be clenching around him. “Inside, please put it inside.”

“I know, baby,” he says, pecking your lips again before he pulls back, hands gliding along your sides as he pulls your shirt off. “You’re burning up.”

Tears prick in the corners of your eyes and you squirm, whining and babbling as he pulls your bra off, too. The cooler air feels nice on your sweat-sheen skin, and you buck your hips as Graves gets off of you, hooking his fingers to pull your pants and panties down in one fell swoop.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he curses, then groans at the sight of your slick, how it clings to your parties in wet strings before he pulls them away.

Your boots are still on and he didn’t get your pants all the way off, but maybe seeing how soaked you are makes Graves hasty.

The most pornographic moan escapes you as he sinks two fingers in your hole, your sweet little cunt sucking them in and clenching down.

“Fuck, good Omega,” Graves groans, slipping in a third finger that has you moaning even louder.

Every spot he hits is the right one, every move pure ecstasy. Your voice is a broken babble of pleads and curses and moans, begging for your commander to fuck you, to take you, to make you his.

You almost sob when he retracts his fingers, not even caring to wipe them as he rolls you onto your stomach, grabbing your hips and pulling them up into the air, right against his own.

Feeling his erection against your ass, you turn downright frantic, “please please please, please fuck me, Alpha, please I need your knot so bad!”

He hisses as you rub against him and he begins unbuckling his belt, which only spurs you on more. He manages to still your hips and get his pants down, rubbing the head of his cock through your slick.

You keen embarrassingly loud as he enters you, slowly letting every inch of himself be swallowed up by your greedy cunt.

When he bottoms out, pressing against your cervix, it’s like a switch flips. You cum, whining as your legs shake, as Graves gasps behind you.

“Goddamn, baby,” he drawls, squeezing into the meat of your hips. “You’re fucking perfect, you know that?”

Your brain is too melted with lust to be able to form any coherent sentence. When he pulls out and slowly thrusts back into you, testing the waters, you all but go limp, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you moan.

“Goooood girl,” he praises, speeding up his thrusts and finding a steady rhythm, your skin slapping together. “So slick and tight for me, omega, good god—“

All you can do is moan and take it. There’s no more painful cramping, and though your skin is still hot it’s not as bad. Your body is getting exactly what it needs: a good, hard fucking by a big, strong Alpha.

“(Y/N),” Graves moans, his voice sounding so sweet to your ears, “so good, baby. Better than I ever imagined.”

You keen at that, at your alpha wanting you—well, he isn’t yours, is he? It makes your heart sting slightly but that’s quickly forgotten with a slap to your ass, sending shockwaves of excitement through you.

You can feel yourself getting tighter, getting ready to be thrown over the edge again, and you can feel Graves speed up his thrusts, his knot slowly beginning to swell inside you.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, “gonna give you my knot, gonna fill you up good—“

His thrusts get even harder, even rougher, and you cry out, feeling yourself come tumbling violently over the edge as his knot catches on you, cumming in waves like the sea crashes onto shore.

Graves stills inside you, making good on his promise, shooting ropes and ropes of hot seed. You can feel his swollen knot inside you, just past your entrance, making your pussy full in the most delicious way. You hear him catch his breath before he carefully rolls you both over onto your sides, laying down with you on the bed.

You hum happily as he wraps his arms around you, placing a chaste kiss on your shoulder as both of your ragged breathing calms.

“Fuck, (Y/N),” he says, his voice husky in a way that makes you wish you were his.

“Yeah,” you manage to reply, running your hands along the arms that hold you.

“I don’t want you taking those damn pills ever again,” he growls, making you shiver. “Understand?”

You open your eyes and turn to look at him, confused at the soft expression on his face. It’s almost…vulnerable? Wasn’t he going to fire you?

“Commander?”

“This isn’t up for debate,” he says. Behind his blue eyes is a fire you know well, akin to the one that dances in his eyes on the battlefield. “I’ll drug test you if I have to, but I’m not going to lose you to some stupid suppressants.”

You blink. “You’re not going to fire me?”

“What? No,” he says like you’re crazy for thinking so. “But if you want to stay, darlin,’ we’re going to need to set some ground rules.”

“Okay,” you agree, relieved. You didn’t want to lose your job, it’s a good gig. The employee benefits are killer…and you’d miss your commander.

“It’s simple, (Y/N), no more illegal suppressants, and you come to me for your heats,” that bastard smirk of his returns and you giggle.

“Are you propositioning me, Commander?”

“Hell, yes I am,” he says proudly, reaching up to caress your cheek. “Probably should’ve done it sooner.”

You lean in and kiss him, enjoying how it sweetens his scent. Your heart flutters in place, content, elated; you had only ever dreamed of this. You finally have him.

“Oh, and no more scent patches. You smell too damn good to be covered up.”

You roll your eyes at him, still grinning. “You sure about that? I don’t think you’ll like every other alpha sniffing after me.”

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll keep you safe,” he says confidently, placing a lingering kiss to your cheek. His eyes hint at something darker, “besides… they’ll catch on.”

[lifenodaijobu]

Just a little list of my soft Draco obsession

For  @vemodalensx

Theres a few here but I’ve left some out since the list was getting a bit long. I might make another list with more.

The list separated between cute Draco and vulnerable Draco just so you can choose whether or not you want a bit of sadness with your softness ^3^

Oh and ofc it goes without saying that the whole list is Bottom Draco hehe

Cute Soft Draco

Flower Crowns (2.4k words)

It started with a single flower 🥀 Draco makes flower crowns for Harry and that is how the whole school finds out about them. A happy dose of Harry with flowers in his hair, and a smitten Draco.

Dreaming of you (21k words)

Harry has nightmares, he wishes for a night when he can sleep without nightmares. What happens when he starts dreaming of Draco Malfoy? Draco left the wizarding world after the war, he's a librarian and lives peacefully in muggle London, what happens when Harry fucking Potter shows up at his work place?

Honey (

Harry is sick of Draco's oh-so-adorable endearments.

The Care and Management of Volatile Veelas 

Harry adopts a Veela. He really didn’t mean to.

Quidditch Wife (Part 2)

Theres no real summary for this except for  It's got all my favourite guilty pleasures, like protective!Harry and vulnerable!Draco, with a side of jealous!Harry and SportyQuidditch!Harry (and I think the top!Harry rather goes without saying).

All our pieces....fall right into places series

The first story:  Draco had had a crush for a while and now that he had Harry in his bed...He was everything that Draco needed.

Trick or Treat

Harry had no idea that he was such a fetishist - a fact which he discovers on Halloween.

Pretty

Harry finds a pair of stockings in the back of their dresser.

The Sweater

After being forced to room together in 8th year, Draco and Harry become friends and decide to continue their living arrangements post Hogwarts. The only problem is, Draco can't seem to stop stealing Harry's clothes.

1095 Roses for a life time

Being woken up by the lips of your boyfriend is always a nice surprise, especially on the morning of yours third anniversary of dating, which leads to hot and passionate morning activity. But all this is just to indulge in themselves, Harry's surprise includes roses and a promise for a lifetime. Will they be the right choice?

Get your kinks out

Harry plays seeker for the Magpies, and he discovers that one of his teammates secretly wears lace panties. What begins as a sexual relationship becomes increasingly complicated by Harry’s fame, Draco’s family, and Harry’s ambivalent feelings about dominating Draco.

Can’t say no

Draco really has the worst friends. When they put a spell on him that he has to say no to everything Harry says.....things don't turn out well.

OR

That time when Harry proposes and gets turned down because of his horrible friends.

What Draco wants

Out of anything a petty fight with Harry Potter could have led to, Draco Malfoy least expected it to end with him bent over a table, questioning his relationship and feelings for Potter, and having the best sex of his life.

Criminal

Things were going just fine for Draco Malfoy. He successfully conned and counted cards across Europe and America, amassing a small fortune, along with a lengthy rap sheet. That was until he made the grave mistake of returning to England for a high stakes card game and got himself caught – by Harry Potter no less. Now, Draco is stuck in England under Auror Potter’s guard with no friends, no distractions, and no escape. How the hell will he pass the time? And since when did Potter get so bloody fit? 

Things Change

Harry and Draco's friends notice something different about them when they fight. See what they find out when they walk down an empty hallway. 

Whats a little veritasium between two sworn enemies?

Draco Malfoy has a nasty habit of always coming across such bad luck no matter where circumstance presents itself and unfortunately that doesn't seem to change when his bloody nemesis Harry Potter over hears him talking about Veritaserum potions in the hallways past curfew. ( It was Pansy fault really)

Harry wants to know what the Slytherin boy is up to, especially with how nervous Malfoy is, but is that ALL Harry wants to know?

Mr Right Now - side note: Cedric/Draco

What do you do when you're feeling down about your ex? Make him jealous! Story features Cedric Diggory and Draco Malfoy trying to win back their loves, but somehow end up falling into each other's arms

For the love a kitten 

With Voldemort Dead, life is not easy for Harry as Old friends become enemies and old enemies become friend. With the return of three Slytherins, Harry life is turned upside down.

How to prepare for a wedding night

I have a neighbour. He is stuck in a loveless relationship and an arranged marriage. He has zero experience in bed. He needs my help so that his love life won't suck for the next few decades. He needs a sex teacher. Oh... and the neighbour happens to be Draco freaking Malfoy. And I might be a little tiny bit in love with the git...

Draco's Scent

In which Harry can't be around Draco for long without the boy's stupid smell messing with his mind, and he really, really hates that.

Turn The Heat Up

Wonky Cooling Charms result in interesting revelations

Flirt

Draco and Hermione make a devastating duo at the Ministry as the respective Department Heads of Wizarding Culture Preservation and Muggle Relations. When Harry Potter gets involved in their latest joint project, Draco can’t seem to stop himself from constantly flirting with him even when it doesn’t seem to affect the golden boy at all. He’s wrong. Harry is most definitely affected. Includes Slytherin shenanigans, Draco sucking at quidditch, and Harry trying not to be charmed. Draco POV.

Angsty/Vulnerable Soft Draco

The Draco Malfoy incident - side note: I cried big time

Draco Malfoy is best friends with a Hufflepuff. A HUFFLEPUFF! He's also partnered with a redhead git, trying to hide from an obsessive green-eyed saviour and has become overly fond with sunrises. It's exhausting. Can't a man plan an assassination in peace around here?

I’m not in your dreams

Draco has dreamt with Harry's voice since he was fourteen, so there's no doubt for him about who his soulmate is. Now, in their Eighth Year, Harry has finally dreamt with his soulmate's voice too. The problem is that Draco was born mute.

Yours for the taking

Draco was raised to be the perfect Omega, but there are things even he cannot endure. When he discovers just what Tom Riddle's plans for him are once he's claimed him he is confronted with an impossible decision. Only one thing remains clear: he will never be able to go back home.

Luckily, Harry Potter is there to save the day

Rough on you - side note: Dark Harry. This is more vulnerable Draco than soft Draco so please read the tags before you start the story :) I was unsure whether I wanted to add this here but hey-ho

"I'm the only one that can give you want you really want." Harry spun Draco around and held his arms at his side and he pressed against his back, whispering against his throat. "That can force you, that can humiliate you… that can hurt you, and you want it. You want me."

Harry is having a bad day. Draco just cannot learn to keep his mouth shut. Neither of them would have predicted it would lead to this.

But who guards the dragon?

This is an expansion of my one-shot, It'll be Okay. You don't have to read it first, it will be in the story. Requested. DMHP Sub/Dom relationship. Slash. Don't like, don't read. Harry thinks a few thinks through, then comes into his creature inheritance. He finds out that he is the dominant mate to one Draco Malfoy. But things are never easy for the boy who lived

Taken For Granted

Having pined for Harry for long enough, Draco decided that it was time to give up and move on. What happens when Harry realizes too late what he's lost?

Mourning

Harry returns to school to complete his NEWTs. There he finds a much changed Draco Malfoy and surprisingly subdued Professor Snape.

In your arms, rests my world

Harry presses his mouth to Malfoy's forehead; he wants to tell him that he’ll never leave, that he wouldn’t dream of it.

“You make me feel safe, Potter” Malfoy whispers. “You keep me safe.”

Inside your mind

Goyle's taken it upon himself to act as Malfoy's personal, one-man guard and Harry can't help but feel like it's only making the bullying worse.

"I'll Protect You," and you can seal that with an Unbreakable Vow

His friends may tease but Harry doesn't feel bad for keeping a close eye on the Slytherin boy of one Draco Malfoy, after all someone has to do it. So when Harry secretly follows the pure-blood boy out past the courtyard, there's nothing strange or unusual about it; nor is it wrong.

Unfortunately the same can not be said for the scenario Harry accidentally stumbles upon as he can't help but stare in horror. It's not just wrong. It's absolutely despicable and Harry, well, Harry just has to do something about it.

A Big Black Sky

Draco shifts his head as he turns to look at Scorpius, his cheek touching the pillow. "Did you know that…" He pauses, his throat convulsing, and it sounds audible in the silence, besides Michael's steady, even breathing from the other bedroom.

Scorpius is staring back at him, in wait of something new to learn, a beautiful and intelligent child. He has Draco's mind. He has Draco's eyes and nose and mouth and hair. He is his. All his. All he has of Michael are his wild curls and the green of his eyes, and sometimes he looks into them and imagines that they aren't Michael's, but someone else's.

Draco leans his head closer, biting the quiver out of his lips before he breathes a laden and shuddering exhale, and he whispers, "You are my star in a big black sky."

Song To Say Goodbye

Draco should have remembered that life doesn’t always turn out the way you want it to. Somewhere along the way he forgot to always be careful and was left with nothing. It was hard enough getting himself together the first time, can he do it again?

Small spoiler for Song to Say Goodbye below

Its not Drarry Endgame: he ends up with a OMC cuz Harrys a big dickhead

[seriouslyhooked]

Feels Like This (Part 7)

Emma Swan is a once lost girl who is now making good. She has made a way in the world for her and her young son, Henry, and after years of hard work, Emma is in her last stretch of schooling for the career she’s always wanted. Unexpectedly, she finds herself in a tiny nation no one’s ever heard of for her last year of study. She knows nothing about the place except that it’s beautiful, has a world-renowned child life program, and is filled with possibility. Meanwhile, Prince Killian is hardly happy with the title he received at birth. As the second in line for the crown, Killian has long tried shaking his royal duties. He built a career in the royal navy, and has stayed out of the limelight, but his ship has been called to port indefinitely at the request of his brother, the King. Fate (in her many forms) brings Emma and Killian together and the resulting fic is a cute, fluffy, trope filled romp featuring heart felt moments, a healthy dose of insta-love and an assured happily ever after. Story rated M and will have 12 parts. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6. Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey everyone. I know that some of you must hate my guts after last week, and I couldn’t even begin to blame you for that, but I promise I will make things better this week. I hate to linger in the drama, and as such we get a resolution this chapter. That’s not saying the road will be easy, but hopefully it’ll pack some great feels and will end with a bit of forgiveness, not just for CS, but with us too. I’ll wait to see what you all think on that forgiveness part, but without further delay, here’s the next chapter of ‘Feels Like This.’

Agony. That was the emotion clinging to his body and soul through the rest of the processions. From the moment he saw Emma, and took in the range of emotions on her beautiful face, he realized she somehow hadn’t read his letter. Despite the assurances from Jefferson’s team that Emma had spoken with a member of the royal guard herself, had taken custody of the letter, and understood it was important, there was clearly a breakdown in that story. The shock in her eyes was too potent for her to have had any kind of heads up. She was torn apart and hurting, and it was all because of him.

This was a miserable and soul wrenching mistake, a slowly traveling crash in which he had been the operator, and the worst part was that he couldn’t go to her and try to explain himself. He tried to, stopped the horse, and was ready to go to her, consequences be damned, but Liam’s order was clear and he was bound to follow. As such, Killian had been in excruciating pain for hours. He spent the rest of the day imagine how hurt she must be. If he felt like this, undoubtedly her heart ached even more. And still, throughout all of this, there was no one to blame but himself. He alone was the one who had hurt Emma this way. His choice to be selfish and to wait in telling her had opened the doors to her heartbreak, and in all his life he’d never made a decision, or rather a series of decisions, he regretted so resolutely.

He would never, as long as he lived, and forever thereafter, forget the look in Emma’s eyes when she saw him from the crowd. The alarm of her expression was a knife to the chest, and then the waves of hurt and embarrassment and grief that came after laid all his sense of self respect to waste. He had done that to her. He had made her gorgeous face stain with disbelief and discomfort. He’d caused the anxiety and the sadness that were clear as day in her eyes. He’d undoubtedly ruined a day with her son, something that she cherished and had been excited about for weeks. And most importantly he shattered her trust in him and in herself. That part especially killed him. To see the moment where she came to believe that she’d been had, that he’d somehow meant for things to go so badly, that was the worst of all. Emma was brilliant and strong and sure of herself, and he’d diminished that by withholding who he was. He’d never forgive himself for that grave sin.

This wasn’t to say that his ire was limited. He was enraged with himself, but he was also furious with Liam. Keeping him from going to her in that moment may have been the ‘smart’ thing to do, but Killian couldn’t look past the fact that it was also the ‘proper’ thing as well. On a better day, and in a less tumultuous time, he would believe in his brother’s goodness. He’d give Liam the benefit of the doubt and imagine that the call to keep him in the procession was made to protect Emma and not to keep him from making a scene, but he was hardly rational right now. Instead, Killian was desperate, and as soon as the parade was over, he dismounted from his horse and rushed into the castle, disregarding all the staff who tried to help him. He stopped only to thank his grandmother for the distraction she’d provided and remained focused on his mission.

The only thing he could think right now was that he had to get to Emma. He’d go to her like this, dressed in this royal monkey suit, if that wouldn’t be yet another afront to her. She’d been slapped with the reality of who he was hours ago, and he would never try and throw that in her face again. He made it to his rooms in record time, and didn’t bother to even close the door as he went about changing, all the while brainstorming how he would get to her and make this right.

“I know you’re angry with me,” Liam said. Killian hadn’t even realized he was followed by his brother and he was even more angered by the lack of privacy. He bit back a snarl that was very unlike him but came naturally at this moment. “But there was no other way.”

“No other way?” Killian asked, a hollow laugh escaping as he shook his head at his brother’s words. “You might be the king, brother, but you’re a bloody fool if you believe that.”

“Killian I was only trying -,”

“Don’t!” Killian yelled, interrupting him before Liam could say something he didn’t want to hear. “I swear to you, Liam, if you so much as attempt to justify this, if you even think about bringing up my duty to this family, you will regret it.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise.”

“Well luckily for me I was going to do neither.”

Killian glared at his brother but then disregarded him. He had the change of clothes he needed and made quick work of removing the starched pants and suit jacket. In under a minute he was dressed in jeans and a casual shirt, more normal attire that Emma had seen him in at the center. But just the thought of it made a lump form in his throat. What if all of this was over? What if he’d ruined everything? What if she could never find a way to forgive him?

“Okay I lied. I was going to make excuses, forgive me.”

“Forgiveness from me means nothing,” Killian said, deadly serious. “When I myself am unforgivable.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“You have no idea who I am or what I am capable of. You think I was just gallivanting around the globe all these years, brother? No – there is darkness in me, sins on my soul I’ll live with every day, and now the worst among them is what I’ve done to Emma. The nightmares and memories of war I could live with. It’s not easy, but it can be done,” Killian said, expelling his breath quickly and wanting to get off this topic that he purposefully never discussed with family. “But what I did today, and what you commanded me to do… it’s a bridge too far.”

“So this isn’t all about your title, then. That’s not the only thing you’re hiding from her.”

Ice ran through Killian’s veins at Liam’s assessment, but his brother wasn’t wrong. There was a lot he hadn’t yet revealed to Emma. He always made the excuse that their stolen moments together were too fleeting, or that it wasn’t the right time to discuss such heavy things, but the truth was he was kidding himself. He’d wanted to gloss over the bad parts, which wasn’t fair to Emma or to him.

“I’m not good enough for her. The things I’ve seen and done have stained me. They made me different – they’ll always haunt me. But this,” Killian said waving around his rooms, which were so ornate that the French aristocrats of old would gasp in the face of them, “She deserves so much more than I can give her. This world is too demanding with too little wiggle room. She’ll feel trapped here. She’ll resent it. But I can’t let her go. I’ve never…” he trailed off, trying to put into words how Emma made him feel. “I’ve never felt like I was exactly where I’m meant to be; not here, not abroad. But with her there is no question. I’m the man I wish I was, the man I want to be.”

Liam was quiet a long moment, looking at Killian with a mix of emotions on his familiar face. There was concern to be sure, and sadness for Killian which he did not want. He didn’t want sympathy. He knew he wasn’t normal, in the regular sense of the world, but he didn’t want pity for that. Yet beyond that there was also a warmth in Liam’s looks, and when his brother spoke, his tone was open and honest.

“I saw you two today. I watched the exchange you had out there. The things you feel are not one sided. She loves you too. That was clear.”

God Killian wished that that were true, but even if it was, he didn’t know if love could survive this moment. It was a cruel thing, to taste real hope and have it stolen from you by your own missteps, but he had a sinking feeling that was to be his fate.

“My choices and my actions have likely destroyed those feelings,” Killian said, the lump forming in his throat so tight it made it hard to speak.

“I’m not so certain. She’s clearly going to give you the chance to explain yourself, and that alone speaks volumes.”

“And what would I even say?” Killian asked, putting words to his great fear. “There’s nothing I can say that can make this okay. I didn’t lie to her, I made sure never to do so, but a lie of omission is just as bad.”

“Is it though? I mean you’re not a criminal, Killian.”

“No, I’m a prince!” he yelled, the word hanging around them long after he’d screamed it into the room. His chest heaved as he caught his breath and slowly he calmed but he never felt better. “You don’t know Emma as I do, Liam. She’s not the kind of woman who’s going to see this development as desirable. She has no fairytale ambitions, no dreams of the spotlight. She’s a woman trying to make a way in the world for her and her son. She wants a good life for her boy, a healthy and happy home, a decent chance at love, and a partner. She wants a man who can walk by her side and chart the path she’s built for them, she doesn’t want… this,” he said sadly gesturing at the grandeur around them. “And she certainly doesn’t want the scars of my past tossed in as well.”

“Well how can you know that if you’ve never even asked her?”

“I know.”

“Oh rubbish!”

The words from the doorway had both Killian and Liam turning and low and behold there was Gran and his mother. These two women, who had always been his fiercest advocates and caretakers looked upon him with such fierceness of emotion. His mother looked distressed but her love was still tangible. She also didn’t appear to be confused, and in her blue eyes he saw understanding even in her alarm. He was surprised that she was even aware of the situation, but then he turned to Gran and remembered how much the woman could say in a short amount of time. She’d no doubt told his mother, and now, despite her age and smaller stature, his Gran was poised for a fight and looked downright pissed. She was a force riled up this way, and he readied himself for a verbal lashing.

“All you know is that you made a mistake, a series of them if you want to get particular,” Gran said shaking her head. “But here’s a scary truth for you, my boy, we all make mistakes. There’s not a person in this room who has not wounded someone they love. Hurt them in a way they’ll regret to their last breath. It’s a terrible thing, but it is life. People are flawed and our time on this earth is messy. We can’t all be perfect. We can only try to be better.”

“I don’t deserve her forgiveness, Gran,” Killian said, not bothering to waste energy with diversions and denial. This was his great fear, and it slipped past his lips as if she’d forced he confess. “I’m not worth it.”

“Oh, Killian,” his mother said sadly, but his Gran held her hand out towards his mother, a silent show for her to wait. With purposeful steps, his grandmother approached him. She came in close, and he wanted to look anywhere but in the eyes of his family. She was uninterested in that avoidance though, and she put a dainty, wrinkled hand to his cheek. He looked up to her and watched as she took in a deep breath. Instinctively he did the same. Then they both let them go together. It was a remnant of his childhood, a tactic that helped calm him whenever he’d felt small and overwhelmed by their world. Gran always knew and she always helped, and even now, at this lowest point, it granted him a small comfort.

“My dear, I’ve always imagined you to be sensible and smart. Please, for the love of all that is good, do not prove me wrong,” Gran said, her voice softer but no less determined. “If you do not deserve her forgiveness, then you must earn it. You are not defined by a few bad choices you made, or by the scars that life has granted. You are more than the mistakes of your past and your present. You are a man, a complicated, loving, and ever-learning man. You have done wrong. You have caused pain. You have shielded the full truth. Now admit that, repent for that, and show her you will never make a mistake like this again. She’s a brilliant woman. A little guarded, but that’s to be expected with all that she’s known. Show her who you really are. Remind her why she took a chance in the first place.”

“I don’t even know where she is,” he admitted. He’d checked his phone and tried to call Emma as soon as the procession was far enough from public eyes, but she’d shut the bloody thing off, no surprise. God, he just hoped she was safe. He was worried about her, knowing that she must be fragile after the realizations she’d faced today.

“Go to the Center, darling,” his mother said softly, having made her own approach, and taking his hand and holding close. “There’s the party tonight that you mentioned.”

“More importantly her friends are there, that Elsa girl for one, as are the children she’s grown to love. No better place to start your search,” his Gran argued.  

Killian knew they were right and without any more thought, and with only a few swift goodbyes, he headed out to find his Swan. It meant a lot to Killian to have the support of his family, and there was a tiny flickering of hope at their words and advice, but he had to get moving before he lost his nerve. He couldn’t keep talking about this, he had to do something. Only after he was out of his quarters and in the car headed for the institute did he realize something – his family knew way too much about Emma and her habits. Liam he understood, but his mother, and especially his grandmother. Something was afoot there, but he’d have to save that for another time. For right now all he could do was work to get to Emma.

The drive to the institute was faster than normal but it felt like it took an eternity. When he finally got there, he was greeted by playing children and general merriment. The festivities were starting soon, and Emma’s original plan had been to come by when she and Henry were done at the beach. Perhaps he’d get lucky and she’d already be here, he looked around and finally saw someone who might know.

“Elsa, have you seen Emma today?”

“She’s not coming,” Elsa said and Killian’s heart dropped. “She called to say she and Henry couldn’t make it.”

“All right, well do you know where she is, in the meantime? I’ve tried to call her and I really need to speak with her. It’s… well you see… something, um -,”

“She told me what happened,” Elsa said, filling him both with relief and dread all at once.

“Elsa, I -,”

“How could you not tell her?” Elsa asked, not yelling for the sake of any children who might hear, but clearly mad. In fact, Killian had never seen Elsa so much as cross before, so this anger was truly something to behold, unexpected as it was. “Do you know how upset she was? Do you know what it must feel like for her? She deserved to know that, and you should have told her.”

“Elsa, I’m sorry –“

“Don’t tell me that. Tell her!” Elsa said, exasperated but then she let out a sigh and Killian noticed her eyes were misting over. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t get so mad. Realistically I know it must not be that simple. It’s just that Emma is my friend, and I never imagined that she didn’t know who you were. Marie told the rest of us what was going on. We were all briefed the day you came, I long assumed Emma was too. Then I began to wonder, but you two were so close, she had to know. When she called today, I could hear the sting of her betrayal. She really had no idea. She was blindsided.”

“I never meant for her to get hurt, Elsa.”

“But surely you must have known she would find out. It was only a matter of time, and you had weeks to break it to her, but you chose not to.”

“I tried, a hundred times, I really did. But we were always here. There were always things that needed doing and children underfoot. And even in the quiet moments… I could have found a way, Elsa, but I couldn’t bear the thought of her looking at me differently. I can’t explain what she means to me, what her seeing me for me has granted me.”

“Even if that’s true it doesn’t change the outcome,” Elsa said sadly. “She needed to know. When were you going to tell her?”

“I was going to tell her tomorrow on our date.”

“You were going on a date? Like an actual date?” Elsa squeaked out, seemingly surprised at the information. “Tomorrow? Oh my goodness, that’s why she wanted me to watch Henry.”

“Aye,” Killian said, curious as to why Emma hadn’t mentioned that part to Elsa.

“I can’t believe you finally asked her. So if you’re asking her on a date, are you serious about her?” He nodded, trying to silently convey the words he wanted to save for Emma. He regretted that it had slipped out with his family before. The first person to know that he loved Emma should be Emma, and despite his quiet non-response, Elsa began to understand that. “And you swear to me that you were going to tell her tomorrow?”

“I give you my word, Elsa. I even sent her a letter this morning before everything happened. It wasn’t enough but it was all I could do.”

“She didn’t mention a letter,” Elsa said shaking her head. “So chances are she never got it.” His heart bled at that confirmation.

“I take full responsibility for her pain, Elsa. I know I am in the wrong. The blame lies entirely with  me. But please, believe me when I tell you that I will do everything in my power to make it up to her. No matter what it takes. She’s the most important thing to me.”

Elsa looked him over, critically trying to assess whether or not he could be trusted. He hoped beyond hope that he would live up to Elsa’s scrutiny, because he was now relying on what else Elsa might know to find Emma and make amends. When she finally nodded, silently accepting his words as truth, he let out a shaky breath. He wanted to ask her where he could find Emma since she wasn’t coming by, but he didn’t have to, she imparted everything she knew on him. Where she was (which was home), what she was doing (making dinner for her and Henry after their beach day), and what he could bring to start to try and make amends (the special dessert that cook was making that both Emma and Henry were desperate for). Killian appreciated all the help, and as he stood in the back with Elsa, waiting on the sweet treats to be wrapped for delivery, he felt a tug at his hand. Looking down he saw Cecelia, who was offering him a shy smile.

“Hello, little love. How are you doing this evening?” Cecelia let out a giggle at his formalities, something he’d grown to learn that she liked over the past few weeks.

“We had dinner, and cake, and we are playing. Pirates and princesses!” she said excitedly. “Do you want to play, Killy?”

The name that Cecelia had begun to use for him, which only his family ever called him, made him happy, in spite of the circumstances. He smiled at the never-ending charm this little girl had, and at her sweet disposition and thoughtfulness.

“Unfortunately, I can’t stay. I’m on a mission you see.”

“A mission?” She asked excitedly. “What kind of mission?”

“I did something that was not very nice, but I feel very badly about what I did. So I am going to say I’m sorry. And I am going to also bring this, as a token of my apology.”

“What’s a token?” Cecelia asked.

“It’s like a little symbol or present. I want to show I’m thinking of the person who I upset.”

“You should bring flowers,” Cecelia said immediately, dragging him as hard as a five-year-old could drag a full-grown man. “Here, these is my favorite.”

Killian followed the little girl to the meadow and watched as she plucked flower after flower until it made a perfectly imperfect bouquet. At one point she let out a little chirping sound of glee, he asked her what had made her so excited and she showed him the yellow flower she had found.

“These are my Emma’s favorites.”

“Well let’s get some more of those then.”

He thanked his lucky stars that Cecelia didn’t ask more about who he had offended. He could only imagine how sad she would be to discover it was Emma, but as he worked to retrieve the flowers with her, Killian solemnly vowed again that he would make amends. This might not be nearly enough to do so, but it was a start, and no matter what it took, he would eventually find a way to win Emma back again. As soon as he had the blossoms in hand, and the dessert with the help of Elsa, Killian was ready to go, but as he looked back out to the car with his driver and took another look at his detail his stomach sank. He didn’t want to do any of this with an audience. He didn’t want the flagrant reminder of why they were different thrown in Emma’s face.

“You know, Elsa and I got really good at ditching our bodyguards when we were kids,” a voice said, and Killian looked over to see Anna, Elsa’s sister, who he also knew to be a good friend of Emma’s and kind to him personally.

“Anna!”

“Oh shoot, pretend you didn’t hear that!” Anna said, her face suddenly sobering. “Seriously, don’t repeat that. To anyone. Ever.”

“I won’t,” he said, curious as to why the sisters would have ever needed their own bodyguards. It was a strange thing, especially seeing where they were now in their lives, but he knew full well it was not his business. “But I hope you mentioned it to offer a suggestion. I’ll take any tricks of the trade, so to speak.”

Anna let out a sigh of relief before looking over his shoulder. “Gus is the main one watching you today, right? The others are stationed outside?” Killian nodded. “Excellent – totally lucked into that one.”

“How so?” Killian asked and Elsa filled in, shocking him further.

“Gus is a great guy, very capable, but easily distracted. He sat down a full twenty minutes for Eloise to make him an origami frog last week. Barely kept tabs on you the whole time.”

“You noticed that?”

“We notice everything,” Anna said with a smile, before pulling out two of the flowers in his chosen bouquet and tossing them away. On second thought they didn’t exactly match, but he didn’t have the chance to thank Anna before she was giving him another gift. “I’ve got a moped in the shed out front. It’s speedy, efficient and has a helmet and saddle bag. You can fit everything inside and get to Emma in five minutes flat. We’ll keep Gus distracted.”

“For how long?” Killian asked and Elsa and Anna exchanged a look.

“Thirty minutes, easy. But if we hit him with a meal from Cook, could be longer.”

“I owe you two, royally.” The two sisters laughed at his words and he groaned. “Pun not intended, but you take my meeting.”

“Two I-O-Us from our neighborhood Captain and Prince. We’ll take it.”

“Call it even if you make it up to Emma,” Elsa agreed, and Killian nodded his head. Then he watched as Anna grabbed his flowers and the dessert and made a big show of asking him for his help on the third floor. He understood her ruse and agreed, at the same time that he nodded to Gus and Elsa moved over to his guard. She struck up a conversation with him, bringing in some of the kids, and quickly Killian and Anna snuck out, getting the moped in record time.

“Emma lives only a few blocks away,” Anna said, writing out the address that she read off of her phone. He was grateful for that as he’d sent the letter this morning through a royal courier. He hadn’t actually known her address, but relied on Jefferson’s intel to get it there. “Here. Do you know where that is?”

“I do,” Killian said, relieved as all hell for that. “Thank you, Anna. Without you and Elsa…”

“Just keep your promise. Make things right with Emma,” Anna said, shooing him away as she stood guard, making sure no one was aware of their deceit.

As he drove out of the front gate, Killian felt free, and he rode as fast as he could without risking his life to get to Emma. Soon enough he was at her building. He parked the bike, and with shaky hands gathered his items of penance. It wasn’t enough, but he hoped it could be a start. Quickly he moved up the front steps, schooling his breathing, and hoping beyond hope she’d open the door. He knocked three times, the heavy metal of the knocker sounding out against the wood. Thud. Thud. Thud. His heart was racing, his mind outpaced it, and seconds stood still until he heard the sound of feet behind the door. A subtle pause, a bated breath, and then…

……………….

Never in her nearly thirty years of life did Emma Swan ever encounter a situation like this one. The drama and the intrigue, the secrets and a big reveal, it was exhausting and complex. In truth it was too much to comprehend, and as a result she was currently standing in her kitchen, staring aimlessly into the refrigerator, and wondering what the hell was going on.

It started with a pretty simple premise: girl meets boy at a new job. That part she had no real trouble understanding. People met every day and sparks flew, that was pretty normal. Not so much for a single mom who was always barely treading water, but it could happen. Theoretically she always had a chance of meeting a man who was interesting and captivating and funny and smooth.

Stage two was also somewhat familiar: girl falls for boy. It was less likely, but still believable. She had never felt any significant pull to a guy except for Henry’s Dad, and even looking past the horrible way that relationship turned out, the feelings were not the same. That love was grounded in need, a need for connection and for love and for family. She was without a center, and Neal was a way to build her world around someone else. With Killian it was different. Emma liked the idea of finding love, but she had no need to build a world around someone else because she already had so much in her life and she understood and loved herself so much more than she had as a girl. Instead, with Killian, she felt a kinship and an undercurrent of possibility. Killian had jolted her out of the small life she was leading and made her dream of more. It was exciting and new, and though she never really expected love like that to come, she knew that it was technically possible for her to feel for someone again. She hadn’t anticipated it, but it could happen, and with Killian it did.  

The next part though, that was what killed her and was completely and totally bat shit crazy: boy turns out to be prince of a tiny coastal nation that no one’s ever heard of, but is heaven on earth. Like… what? What the what?!

This was the making of some cheesy movie or romance book, but it was never anyone’s actual life. Even when girls met princes, they always knew from the jump that they were a prince. But Emma? Oh no, she had to be the one in 7-something billion to completely miss the memo. Okay actually that wasn’t quite right. Most of the issue here was that no one outside of Montenarro knew about this country, let alone its monarchs. Still, she was surrounded by people who were aware of the truth: Elsa, Anna, Marco, Marie. The list went on and on and on, and yet at no point did anyone ever think to let her in on this giant, gaping, gargantuan secret.

Of course, the person who really should have said something was Killian, and for hours Emma had wondered what the hell he was thinking by not telling her. Like sure, maybe it wasn’t polite to introduce yourself as Prince Killian of Montenarro from the jump, and yeah, he was clearly trying to fly under the radar with the kids, probably to make them feel more connected and not separated by status, but it was unfathomable that he would never have brought this up. Especially given the fact that he was in a nationally watched parade today. How did he possibly think she was going to miss that? And more importantly, how could she trust him, or anyone else for that matter, after they’d kept this from her for so long? She thought back to her phone call to the institute earlier where she’d told everyone she and Henry couldn’t make it. She didn’t plan to say anything, hoping to hide the shame of being so stupid, but Elsa could tell something was up, and when she asked Emma couldn’t deny it…

“Are you sure that you’re all right, Emma? It’s not like you to miss something like this and I know that Henry and you have both been looking forward to this. Are you sick? Can we bring you something? Anna or I can come and -,”

“It’s not like that,” Emma admitted, taking in a shaky breath before blurting out a question that had bothered her all day. “Why didn’t you tell me, Elsa?”

“Tell you what?” her friend asked, seriously perplexed.

“About Killian.”

“Emma, I’m sorry, I’m not following you here. What happened with Killian?”

“I saw him today at the parade.”

“Oh I know he called here, just in case we played it on television. He doesn’t want the first time the kids hear to be through the parade. He wants to tell them himself, which I respect.”

“Well I wish he’d had the same regard for me.”

“Regard for – wait, Emma, you didn’t know?”

“No,” Emma admitted, grateful that Henry was putting his beach stuff away upstairs. She had a little privacy and the sadness of this moment could air without her son knowing her pain. “I had literally no idea and now I feel like an idiot because we were there, Henry and I, and I saw Killian and he saw me, and it’s just… it’s like I’m too heartbroken to be mad. Does that make sense?”

“Oh, Emma,” Elsa said, and Emma closed her eyes, willing the unshed tears to go away. She couldn’t break down right now. She just couldn’t, but she would if she continued to think about this. “If I had ever thought in a million years that he would be so careless, I would have told you from the start. Anna and I wondered if you realized in the beginning, and we weren’t totally sure, but we thought maybe if you didn’t know then he was waiting for the right moment. It was hard to tell because maybe he had told you and you and you were keeping things private. I thought for sure he would have told you whenever you got a real moment one on one, and you’ve had a few the past few weeks. It never occurred to me that you were still in the dark. I never imagined…”

“It’s not your fault, Elsa,” Emma said, fending off the tears that threatened to come in the face of this bad moment.

“Has he tried to reach out to you? To explain himself?”

“I haven’t checked,” Emma admitted. “I called you on the land line here. My phone’s been off all day.”

“Don’t you want to hear what he has to say?”

“Of course I do,” she admitted. Knowing it was true. She wanted answers, and she also wanted to understand. Why had he done this? What was he possibly thinking?

“So why -,”

“Because what if there is nothing to say?” Emma interrupted, her biggest fear revealed. “I mean he’s a prince, Elsa, and I’m just… me.”

“You’re not just anything, Emma,” Elsa said determinedly. “You are brilliant and wonderful, and let me tell you something, titles and nobility don’t mean anything. The merit of a person resides in their heart, not in a crown.”

Emma appreciated her friend’s faith in her, and she didn’t think much of how adamantly opposed Elsa seemed to the exultation of nobility. Still, she felt unanchored right now. She’d really begun to feel that connection with Killian was something special, and it was impossible not to question all of it in the face of a secret this big. Because this was big. Really big. Honestly it was -

“Mom?”  Emma jumped at the sound of Henry’s voice and she looked over to her son who had a curious look on his face. She closed the fridge door, unsure of how long it had been open, but her attempt to cover herself didn’t go unnoticed. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, kid. What’s up?”

“There’s someone at the door. They knocked twice already. I’d answer it but you know the whole stranger danger, different country thing.”

“Right,” Emma said wiping her hands down her shirt and preparing to greet whoever it was.  She suspected it was Elsa or Anna. After Elsa had told her that she was absolutely Killian’s equal regardless of status, both Elsa and Anna had been on the phone, telling her to be strong and have faith in herself. They were both hopeful but also incredibly sympathetic, and despite Emma’s protests, both had mentioned sending some cake this way for her and Henry. Still she didn’t want to see anyone. Okay that was true she only wanted to see one person, but as she moved to open the door, she knew it wouldn’t be – wait, Killian? Oh God, he was here. Like actually here.

“Emma,” he said, his voice filled with equal parts relief and anguish.

“You’re here,” Emma said, dumbfounded. She never in a million years expected him to actually come to her house, not after the parade today and realizing who he was. The reminder of his real identity had her looking to the street. What kind of scene was being made for him to come here? But then when she looked there was no one outside, and nothing but a moped on the street. Only then did she realize the helmet he carried.  “Where’s your detail?”

“I ditched them. Didn’t want to draw attention.”

“You ditched them?” Emma parroted, not following him. “Is that an option?”

“I made it one,” Killian said, determinedly. “Look, Emma, I know that what I’ve done is unforgiveable. I said that in the letter this morning.”

“Letter?” Emma asked and finally understanding dawned on her. That thing she thought was an invitation in her tote bag… that had held answers all along. God, seriously? What a mess, and here she’d been thinking on this for hours and maybe there were some answers already in her grasp. But whether or not that was true it was too late now. “That was from you. I thought it was from the institute.”

“So you never read it,” he said and she shook her head and Killian grimaced before straightening his stance and diving into what the letter must have said. “It hardly matters. A letter could never be enough to right what I’ve done. I know I should have told you who I was from the start, and having things go so badly today when what we have is so good… it damn near kills me to know I’ve ruined things before they’ve even had a chance to really form. But I swear to you, on everything I hold dear, that I never meant to hurt you, Emma.”

Now the tears were back, misting over in her eyes and she couldn’t try and stop them. Today had been so crazy and she was stressed and angry and sad. But the look in Killian’s eyes as he tracked her sadness broke something else inside her. His longing and his sorrow were so palpable. She knew, even without his words that he was truly sorry, and when he moved toward her, taking her hand, she didn’t pull away. She stayed there, too caught up in feelings to speak, and allowing him to try and explain some more.

“I know my words can’t possibly be enough, Emma. I would never expect them to be. I’ve been foolish and I’ve been daft, and Lord knows I would give anything the world over to take back the pain I caused you. It’s the last thing I would ever want. You deserve so much better, and God above, I am sorry Emma. So deeply, truly sorry. I want to show you how sorry I am. I want to make this right. I know asking you for anything is unthinkable. I don’t deserve your forgiveness or a second chance, but I can’t walk away, love. I don’t want to lose you, I don’t think I could bear it.”

What could she say to such a statement, such bold claims of caring about her and regretting what he’d done? She had so much to say. She was angry and hurt and embarrassed, but underneath all that she still felt the pull that was there before. Despite everything that had happened, she couldn’t help but look into his blue eyes and feel like there was magic here between them. Her heartbeat skipped out of time, and her hands grew shaky. She didn’t know whether she wanted to slap him or kiss him. Honestly, she probably wanted to do both. Still, the only thought ringing in her head was that he was here. He’d come to her, for her, and he was really, actually here.

“Who is it, Mom?” Henry’s question from behind her made her jump, and without thinking she stepped away from Killian’s hold before Henry could see their hands joined together. Jesus, this was all going so crazy so fast, and then Henry’s eyes lit up and he gasped. “Wait, aren’t you… you’re the prince! You were at the parade today.”

“Aye, lad,” Killian said, and though he aimed a kind smile at her son, Emma could tell it took everything in Killian not to wince at the pronouncement.

“But what are you doing here? What’s going on, Mom?” Henry looked to her and Emma looked between him and Killian trying to figure out how to play this.

“Killian and I, um, work together.”

“Wait this is Killian?” Henry asked, and Emma felt her cheeks flush as her son gave away the fact that she’d talked of him at home. “You said he was a Captain in the navy, but I didn’t know he was a Prince!”

Neither did I, Emma thought, but she was at a loss for words. Luckily Killian stepped in.

“At the institute I’ve been blessed to be as I am. I’m not a prince there. I’m just a man. Just Killian.”

“That must be hard sometimes,” Henry said, surprising both Emma and Killian with the words. “Being a prince, I mean. I mean it’s cool, but a lot of responsibility, I bet.”

“Aye, lad. Truth be told I’m not always up to my familial role,” Killian confessed, making Emma’s heart ache with the sincerity he displayed. “Some have said I’m not particularly good at being a prince. I can’t disagree with the sentiment.”

“How are you at making pizza?” Henry asked, completely changing the subject on a dime, in the way only a kid could. Henry showed absolutely no intimidation in the face of meeting royalty. He was completely relaxed, stunning Emma with his nonchalance.

“Erm, well, I wouldn’t really know,” Killian said, his hand moving through his hair in a gesture of uncertainty. “I can’t actually recall ever making my own.”

“That’s okay, it’s easy. Mom’s a master at it. She can show you. Right, Mom?”

“Henry, Killian probably has other things he has to do.” She looked to him trying to assure him that he did not need to indulge her son. But when her eyes met Killian’s she was yet again surprised at the hope she found there. He wasn’t running for the hills or jonesing to get away and back to the palace. In fact, he looked excited at the prospect.

“Actually,” Killian said, hedging a moment making, silently making sure she wasn’t trying to give him the brush off. She purposefully kept quiet, thus giving him permission to make his own call. “There’s no place I’d rather be than here, making pizza as it were.”

“Really?” Emma asked and Killian nodded before motioning to the box he was carrying that she hadn’t paid any mind to before.

“Aye, and I come bearing an offering of sorts. Elsa and Anna send their regards, and cook’s coveted cake.”

“Wohoo!!” Henry yelled, whooping with joy as he pulled Killian inside, dragging him to the kitchen to get dinner underway. For Emma’s part she was still hesitant. This was not something she ever expected, and it was not smart to let Henry get attached to Killian when she didn’t even know what was going to happen between them. But the fact that Elsa and Anna had sent him her way was an endorsement, and if they trusted him after she’d been so honest about her pain today, she didn’t think she should fully close the door on this.

What ensued after that was a few hours of strangely perfect intimacy. Despite the newness, and how much was still unsaid between them, Emma watched Killian and Henry truly bond. He may not have much experience in the kitchen, but Killian was a quick learner, and more than anything he was attentive. He met Henry’s enthusiasm with appreciation and support, and when her kid chattered on all night, Killian only seemed to enjoy himself more. Watching all of this, and knowing that Killian had every intention of speaking to her when they were alone, made Emma’s heart soften, and though she was still scared shitless about his being a prince, she felt her defenses waning at the night went on. Even in the middle of such a mess, this man was perfectly imperfect. He was flawed, and he had acted badly, but he was good still, with a heart so big and kind she couldn’t help but wish for more nights like this, both for her and for Henry. In spite of who he was, Killian seemed to fit here, and hours later, when Henry was readying for bed and had bid them both goodnight, Emma wanted to find a way to say that even while she held him accountable for what he’d done.

“Whatever it is you’re thinking, Swan, you should say it. I promise you I can handle it. No need to mince words or hold back,” he said, showing once again just how much he understood her. She closed her eyes, steadying her breath, willing the questions and the accusations to come, but they didn’t. So instead she said what she felt.

“You’re a prince.”

“I am.”

“Why?”

“Why am I a prince?” he asked, confused.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because if it were up to me, I wouldn’t be a prince. But beyond that, you saw me,” he replied honestly. “The real me. Not the man the world thinks that I am or that my family thinks I should be. You can’t imagine how that felt, how intoxicating it was, when I hardly even knew myself before I met you.”

“You should have told me.”

“I know, love, and I was going to tomorrow. The plan was to have real time together. I didn’t want it rushed or interrupted. I wanted to break it to you gently, because I knew hearing this would hurt no matter when it came. But believe me, Emma, I never planned to be at the parade today. A public spectacle like that when you didn’t know… it was unfathomable and cruel. But I need you to believe that my hands were tied. It’s a complicated story involving politics and parliament, but suffice it to say my brother needed me, and I could not deny the King. I knew it was wrong, but I was bound by honor to my family. They required my presence and I couldn’t turn away from that. Even so, if I had known you’d see me today, that you and Henry wouldn’t already be tucked away at the beach, I never would have gone.”  

“You still should have told me, Killian,” she stressed, appreciating some of the context, but knowing it didn’t actually change anything. He nodded, his eyes taking on a real pain as he replied.

“You’re right, Emma. I started to tell you a thousand times, but fear and cowardice won out. I was terrified – I am terrified – that the truth will have you running. I told myself if I could just find the right moment, then maybe it would be okay. You’d stay because you knew that wasn’t everything I am. I thought if I could make you care for me as I’ve come to care for you…” his voice trailed off for a moment, but he moved towards her, now close enough to touch yet still an ocean away as he continued his confession. “It was stupid, Emma. But more importantly it was selfish and wrong. Keeping this from you goes against everything I feel for you, everything you bring into my world.”

“What do I bring?” she asked, curious as to why he was going to all this effort and facing these hard questions for her of all people.

“What do you bring?” he asked, his voice edging up like he couldn’t believe she would ask that. “Light, Emma. Light and laughter and peace. I’m dizzy from the sight of you, I hardly think unless my thinking is of you, every day I stand in awe of everything that you are, but still in knowing you I’ve found something that feels essential. You calm me, even as you awaken parts of my being I never knew till now. To put it simply, you bring everything, love. It is I who has little but trouble to offer.”

The swirls of emotion that took flight at hearing him say these things was incomprehensible. It was varied and layered, pulling at things in her heart and her soul that she’d always wanted to be and to feel and to know. She knew that he meant this, knew he was showing her his truth absolutely, and yet the tone of his voice was resigned. He was asking for forgiveness but didn’t believe himself worthy of it. And only part of his belief was because of what he’d done. Heartbreakingly, Emma could see most of it was because of this title, this role he never asked for and clearly didn’t yearn to hold. He thought it made him too removed, too burdensome to love. He didn’t see what she did, that he was more than one crown, one title, one role.

Closing the space between them, Emma’s hands came to touch him. One hand came to his chest, the other cupped his cheek. She felt the beating of his heart, and when he looked at her, she saw this sense of hope in his features. It was like she was a lifeline, a saving grace, and she couldn’t help but smile, and try her best to make him see what really was between them.

“You’re wrong, Killian. You may be trouble, but you are also so much more,” she teased. He huffed out a breath, something that wanted to be a laugh but it wasn’t real. It was mired down by doubt, doubt she needed to ease away for both their sakes. “I won’t lie and say I wasn’t angry or upset. Finding out today like I did hurt me. I can’t change that, and neither can you, but in some ways you were right. My knowing from the start would have made things different. I’d love to say it wouldn’t have, but we both know that it would. I’ve got walls and I’ve got triggers. I’m slow to warm and I play it safe. I don’t think I ever could have been so open if I knew the differences between us. I don’t know if I ever could have believed something real could come from this. Knowing would have made me cautious, and yes I probably would have run if you told me too soon.”

His hands came around her, like just the mention of her running made him need to hold her close. And funny enough she didn’t really mind. She loved this feeling, this connection, this warmth. Even with everything, this felt like a perfect slice of heaven. Nestled in his arms she felt safe, like no storm could come that they couldn’t weather together.

“But even if it’s crazy, and I have a million questions, and I have no idea what the hell dating a prince entails… if the prince in question is you, and if you’re still the man I know, the one who gives more than he takes, the one who faces each new challenge, and the one who kissed me yesterday like I’ve never been kissed before… then I don’t want to run. I’m still in this, Killian. The only question is, are you?”

No sooner had she posed the query than his lips crashed down on hers, telling her everything she needed to know without saying anything at all. As life-altering as yesterday’s kiss had been, it was nothing to this. This was a moment shared by two people who had said so much and left it all on the line. There was only want, and desire, and need. She felt it coil from deep within her, radiating through her whole body, and by the time they came up for air she was flooded with the sense that nothing and no one could ever make her feel like this. Killian held the key to this sensation, and it was worth the risk of heartbreak to try and take a chance with him.

“I’ll never have the words to tell you how remarkable you are, Emma. How you revive my very being, and how miraculous it is to feel the way I do when I’m with you,” he said, pushing a wayward strand of hair back behind her ear as he gazed upon her, smiling and joyful and full of relief. “But I aim to show you, Swan. Today and every day I’ll do my best to remind you of all that you are, and all that you mean to me.”

“Good,” she whispered, stealing another taste of him. He growled into the kiss, quickly taking it over and she melted into him again, forgetting everything and living only in the now.

“I hope this all means we’re still on for our date tomorrow,” he said when they came apart again and she nodded, feeling a blush spread over her cheeks.

“I’m still game,” she answered, biting back a groan at her attempt at being casual. It was so corny, but screw it. He didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he was looking at her like she hung the moon and the sun and the stars.

“You’re certainly something, love,” Killian said smirking at her in that sexy way and kissing her again. She melted into the embrace but when they broke apart once more, she admitted another fear she had.

“I may be bad at this,” Emma warned.

“You, bad? I don’t believe that’s possible,” Killian said, his voice warm and lush and happy in the face of this second chance.

“I’m not great at dating generally. It never turns out well in the end.”

“For me either,” he confessed. “But I suppose that’s because we’ve never had the proper partners.”

“I’m scared to mess this up,” Emma admitted.

“You are incapable of doing so,” Killian reaffirmed, kissing her gently before resting his forehead against hers. “You’re the reason we still have hope. Your forgiveness is everything, Emma, and I promise you, as different as our circumstances are, I will never again allow you to be hurt. Not by me, my title, or the baggage from my past. You, and Henry, are safe with me. I swear it.”

“Are you sure you can make a promise like that?” Emma asked, doubting anyone’s ability to prevent bad outcomes, but Killian’s determination was unwavering. He was absolute in his promise, and she had no choice but to believe him.

“I am sure. We can do this Emma. We’ll go as slow or as fast as you desire. You’re the Captain of this vessel, so to speak, but if you trust me, I know we can see this through. I’ve never felt anything so surely as I feel that.”

And with that, and with a few more heated kisses, Emma and Killian cemented their decision to really give this a shot. Unfortunately, Killian had to leave soon thereafter, heading back to the palace where everyone was likely worried sick from his ditching his detail, but Emma knew he’d be back tomorrow for their date. And as she watched him ride away, and she closed the door behind him, she made a conscious choice to really give this all she had. Because despite the worries and the fears, and despite the crazy thought that he was a prince and she was an ordinary woman, she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t follow her heart.

Post-Note: Okay so… what do you think? Am I forgiven? I hope that I am, and if I am not let me entice you with the promise of next chapter, which is going to be a fluff and feels filled first date worthy of a prince and his (soon to be) princess. Honestly though, this has always been my vision for this story. I think about that scene in the Prince and Me when the girl sees the prince and he runs to her from the parade and I love it, and yet I wanted to twist that a bit, to turn it on its head and in the process keep Emma and Killian’s love still a private, personal thing. I want them to have more time to grow and nurture their feelings, to know it’s definitely love before the whole world gets a say, and of course throwing in meddling Anna and Elsa, and having Henry push the love birds along a little never hurts either. Anyway, what I am trying to say is I hope you guys enjoyed and I thank you all for reading. Not sure when the next chapter will be ready, because I am in the final stretch of school craziness, but know that it is coming and that I can’t wait to share the rest of this story with all of you. Until next time!

[seanslaters]

Week 4

So let’s all pretend I posted this about a week ago, just to keep up the illusion of any kind of structure to me posting these, that’d be gr8. As of next week I’ll be free from the shackles of employment so fingers crossed updates will be more regular.

This week we have my phone case  which combines two of my favourite things in life: glitter and pineapples.

 Let’s finally get to recapping:

So we open with week with Smugden smirking in the Home Farm kitchen in Larry’s jim-jams (bit weird, ngl.) Chrissie’s probably in another room being oblivious as per while Robert’s probably trying to come up with some plan to shag Aaron on the down low without his wife figuring it out… Oh wait - no, we’ve not been hit over the head with a spanner a la Jimmy King circa 2010 and got amnesia. No, apparently we’re having our own version of the Time Warp right before our very eyes and gone back to 2015; the difference this time being that he’s just manipulating a different White sister who’s even more oblivious - it’s cool because it’s not like my patience was already wearing thin. But Rob’s not chilling for very long though - someone’s home! So he swiftly legs it up the stairs.

It’s Rebecca *internal groaning because more Robecca scenes = unhappy Chloë* and Robert’s back in his own clothes looking suitably dishevelled - really subtle babe, but at least your hair looks good when it’s all mussed up. They have a conversation that can be pretty much summarised as: dull business chat, zombies, more dull business chat, Rebecca being oblivious and oh look Lachlan’s here! (when are you going to start killing people Lucky? That’s the real question) Lachlan smells the poop with Rob being back in the mix but Rebecca lives up to the dumb blonde stereotype and conveniently brings up the CCTV that’s been switched back on. Oh no, what will he do? *looks to camera like I’m in The Office*

Rebecca is being annoying on the phone/oblivious once again (count the number of times I use ‘oblivious’ this week since it’s a big recurring theme) while Robert deletes the CCTV footage - shocker. Cue Lachlan announcing that Larry’s coming home. Cannot wait (said no one ever). Oh well Rob, you gave a good shot but maybe it’s time to call it a day now? Right? RIGHT?!

In the Woolie Robert orders more Armagnac. WAY TO GO ROBERT, SUBTLE AS A BRICK, ESPECIALLY WITH REBECCA CONVENIENTLY IN EARSHOT. She figures it out for once, but it’s ok that he drank her Dad’s special booze from Ronnie because Robert could literally punch her in the face at this point and she’d probably be grateful. I digress. News of Larry’s little nightcap gives Robert a brainwave and the next thing we know he’s managed to get a doctor’s appointment. On the same flipping day! Wonders truly never cease in Emmerdale. Rob gives his best Oscar-worthy performance for my one true love and light of my life Dr Cavanagh, explaining that he’s suffering from insomnia which isn’t technically a lie but as always will be glossed over…  so Dr C prescribes him some sleeping pills and oh look there’s the villain smirk again, love it *sarcastic thumbs up*.

Robert scrambles when Aaron shows up mid-pill crushing at the scrapyard, just as I’m about to give up all hope again. It’s cute and awkward and I just want them to make heart eyes and kiss again because goddammit I have needs ok? Later that night, Robert ninja stealths back into Home Farm and spikes the booze and tbqh the less said about it the better because it gave me war flashbacks *shudders* Because I know that personally I just love a casual bit of drugging a pensioner *even more sarcasm*

Next day in the café everyone is getting prepared for the random as f*ck Zombie Run and Rebecca’s stressed about Larry being woozy because she is literally the only person that gives a stuff. Rob’s going for the BAFTA this time, faking sympathy and suggesting she cancels the event if she’s that worried. Absolutely stellar performance babes. It helps when the person on the receiving end is super oblivious (Bex, when has Robert ever cared about Lawrence’s wellbeing? The answer is never). Lachlan refuses to cancel and tells him to keep his cute nose out. (I’d like to take a brief moment here to say that if you are reading this, I hope you appreciate the struggle I put myself through rewatching this particular episode in all its terrible, plotty glory)

Anyway… Bartsy are playing video games in the Mill in those awful massage chair things when Robert interrupts to say he’s lost his watch. More awkwardness ensues and Rob walks out with his tail between his legs for the 15869th time and Aaron looks #conflicted and I become more acutely aware that I need a reunion more than I need oxygen at this point. I don’t make the rules. At the scrapyard Aaron and Adam procrastinate more than me writing these recaps and Aaron reveals that he does in fact have the watch (and pretends he’s not kept it because he’s a soppy, sentimental git). Adam asks if it’s really over with him and Rob (IT’LL NEVER BE OVER AS LONG AS THEY’RE BOTH BREATHING MATE) and suggests they go out on the pull. No way blasé, I am emotionally fragile enough without that thank you very much. 

Meanwhile, in scenes that are so utterly ridiculous I can’t mock them because John Bowe has actually done my job for me (sorry guys, I tried) Larry, in his drugged up state, manages to drive a Jeep into a bunch of people (including Victoria) at the Zombie Run. What I will say is, I hope Vic has the personal injury lawyers on standby. Up at the house, compo comes in the form of Home Farm covering Vic’s loss of earnings but then again she has to be subjected to Rebecca trying to act like she’s angry at Lachlan, flapping over Larry and blinking at a million miles an hour so I’m not sure if that compensates for much. Get dialling Vic - sue the b*stards for every penny!

Back at the yard, Aaron stumbles across a little blue pill (I know what I’d be thinking if I found a pill of that description but that probably says more about me than anything else) and voices his concerns to Adam in the Woolie while Robert and Vic have some cute sibling banter and Robron make more awkward eye contact.

The next day in the pub, Aaron and Adam are both pining over the their Sugden other halves; we get confirmation they didn’t go on the pull (#blessed, my monoshipping heart is safe for another day); and Aaron basically says he’s still in love with Robert in a really inadvertently cute way (shut up, my recap, my interpretation, ok?) Aaron goes to the café and as soon as he walks in he literally takes Robert’s breath away (my god he’s so Extra™ and far gone I just love it). More mundane Robecca chat i.e. the same conversation they’ve had in various forms over the last 3 episodes *yawn* which Aaron interrupts to pull Robert away for a private chat.

Aaron whips out the pill and is super concerned while the iconic break up tune 'Out of Reach’ of Bridget Jones’ Diary fame plays in the background (I see you Emmerdale). Robert explains that he’s been struggling and gives us the line of the week “I don’t usually get dumped by the man I love” CAN YOU EVEN BELIEVE IT? He sees this as a sign that they should get back together (Aaron love, you are literally his conscience at this point) but Aaron’s still not having it and says he’ll give him the number for his magical counsellor. Then we have another variation of the same Robecca chat except this time Robert is telling her to take control herself so he can take it for himself because she is (yep, you guessed it) oblivious. But his plan’s been foiled because the laced booze is now down the sink thanks to Bex. Rob looks p*ssed off but I breathe a sigh of (as it turns out, temporary) relief as that’s one less criminal charge to worry about.

Meanwhile Aaron looks really really really really pretty in the café and tells Vic to look out for Robert (HE STILL CARES SO MUCH *weeps*) She’s true to her word but he tells her he’s fine but one look at his face when she’s out of shot shows that he’s really not *weeps some more*

The following day at Home Farm, Robert’s helping out but Rebecca wants to keep it secret from Larry. Whoops too late. John Bowe decides to perk up a bit; he and Robert snipe at each other like the glory days and I’m thoroughly enjoying myself until the baby is mentioned (tbf it’s been a while since it’s been mentioned now that it doesn’t need to be used like a baseball bat to hit Robron like a piñata all the time now they’ve split but still. No.) Following on from last week’s lesson in reverse psychology 101, Rob tries it with Larry (not like that) and it works an absolute dream when Larry and Rebecca storm into the café arguing over a shiny new bottle of booze. The fools.

Vic’s crying in the pub because Jack’s grave has been damaged and her and Diane have already had an emotional heart to heart in the graveyard sans Robert but at least he knows now eh? Oh wait the Whites are here and my blood pressure’s on the rise again because it’s another baby mention and legacy character Jack Sugden is literally being used to manipulate that sh*tty family once again. Later on in the kitchen at Home Farm Robecca are being far too nicey nicey (yes I’m still that bitter) when Larry decides to call a truce. It’s like 2015 again but sh*tter and I’m just longing for my fave Chrissie to return from war and kick up f*ck. I think we’re finally out of the woods when Robert gets out more crushed pills. WHEN WILL YOU EVER LEARN YOU ABSOLUTE PLANK? DO YOU NOT KNOW THE RULES OF SOAP? YOU WERE FREE AND CLEAR WHEN IT WENT DOWN THE SINK, THIS MEANS YOU’RE GONNA HAVE TO GET FOUND OUT AT SOME POINT NOW YOU ABSOLUTE WALLOPER. Smh (this plot unleashes my inner angry Glaswegian, soz)

Anyway, I’m not one to end things on a sour note, so to lighten the mood, here is a summary of my current feelings on the Whites, but one in particular 😉:

(Would’ve probably saved me a couple hundred words tbh 😂)

[dragonydreams]

Steal the Air - Captain Canary Pump Up the Volume AU

Title: Steal the Air Fandom: DC's Legends of Tomorrow Rating: Teen Pairings/Characters: Sara Lance/Leonard Snart Summary: Leonard Snart is your regular quiet nerdy guy by day, but at night, make sure to catch his Facebook Live posts as the mysterious Captain Cold. Modern Pump Up the Volume AU Timeline: n/a Word Count: 5,142 Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over these characters. I am merely borrowing them from Berlanti Productions, DC Entertainment, and Warner Bros. Television. Betas: Thank you to angelskuuipo and shanachie_quill for looking this over for me. Author's Note 1/Additional Disclaimer: I love the movie "Pump Up the Volume" and thought it would work so well as a Captain Canary story. It's so brilliantly written, that I couldn't bring myself to change many of the words from the film, so much of the text belongs to Allan Moyle and New Line Cinema. Author's Note 2: Written for @ficcingcaptaincanary​'s Movie AU prompt. (Told you I was going to be late with this.) Author's Note 3: Youtube links to songs used in story as you read or listen to playlist for this story on Spotify

Did you ever get the feeling that everything in America is completely fucked up? You know that feeling that the whole country is like one inch away from saying, 'That's it, forget it.' We live in a world where vigilantes dispense justice in the cities and metahumans rule the streets. And we're expected to survive high school and go out into that crazy world. I can barely think about surviving another day of mediocre education, let alone making it in the "real world". You know what I'm talking about, Starling City. So sit back, relax, and do not adjust your screen because I am Captain Cold and this is live. This is life.

~~*~~

"Hey, Sin, have you seen this?" Sara asked, sidling up next to her best friend as they headed into Starling City High School.

"What?" Sin asked, taking the cell phone from Sara. She glanced down at the open Facebook app. "Captain Cold? Yeah, I've been watching. You like every one of his posts so I was curious. Who is he?"

"No one knows," Sara said, taking her phone back and pulling up his profile. "The only photo is his profile photo with the huge parka and dark goggles. You can barely see his face."

"Maybe that's the point," Sin said. "He leaves that photo up blocking the camera for the live videos on purpose."

"I know, but he's gotta be a student here. He's as much as said so," Sara pointed out. "I'm gonna find him."

"Good luck with that," Sin said.

~~*~~

Everybody knows that the dice are loaded Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed Everybody knows the war is over Everybody knows the good guys lost Everybody knows the fight was fixed The poor stay poor, the rich get rich That's how it goes Everybody knows - Everybody Knows, by Leonard Cohen

Okay, down to business. I got my Black Jack gum here and I got that feeling, mmm that familiar feeling that something rank is going down up there. Yeah, I can smell it. I can almost taste it. The rankness in the air. It's everywhere. It's running through that old pipeline out there, trickling along the dumb concrete river and coming up the drains of those lovely track homes we all live in. I mean, I don't know. Everywhere I look it seems everything is sold out.

My dad sold out. And my mom sold out years ago when she took off after birthing my sister. And then he went and brought us here, to this this shitty corner of the world. He made me everything I am today, so naturally, I hate the bastard.

~~*~~

Laurel Lance sat on her bed, laptop open on her outstretched legs as she watched Captain Cold's live feed. She muted the video as her dad came into the room.

"I don't know how you get perfect grades when you're on that thing all hours of the night." Laurel felt like her smile was more of a grimace. "Don't forget that your Harvard interview is tomorrow. Don't want you looking tired. Good night, Sweetheart."

She kept the smile plastered on her face until her dad had closed her bedroom door before unmuting the video almost violently.

She didn't know why, but this Captain Cold seemed to understand her in a way her father never would.

~~*~~

I'm getting a lot of comments and private messages here. 'Dear Captain Cold, my boyfriend's giving me the cold shoulder. How do I show him that I really love him?' Why do you keep asking me for love advice? Do I seem like I have a lot of experience with relationships? If I had a girlfriend I'd be making out with her instead of talking to all you lonely freaks. 'Dear Captain, I think you're full of crap. High school isn't as bad as you make it out to be. Cheer up, buddy.' Well, you may be one of the few teenagers who doesn't hate high school, but let me tell you something, you're in the minority. You wanna know why I'm not "cheery"? I just got dragged to this dumb city. I don't have any friends, no money of my own, no car, and oh yeah, no license. I don't know what good a license would do since there's nothing to do here anyway.

~~*~~

Leonard Snart hesitantly went up to the librarian's desk in the school library, handing over the book he was returning to the cute blonde girl who was working at the desk.

"Hi," she greeted him.

"Hi," he automatically responded, adjusting his glasses.

"You're in my writing class, right?" she asked.

Leonard really wished the teacher hadn't read from his paper in today's class, drawing this girl's attention to him. Pretty girls like her made him nervous. "Uh huh."

"I like Mrs. Smoak. She's quirky." She turned away to look at his check out slip. "Now you're in trouble!" She paused dramatically. "You owe me twenty-five cents. 'How To Talk Dirty And Influence People' by Lenny Bruce. Who's he? Any good?"

Leonard shifted uncomfortably as he dug a quarter out of his pocket and handed it to her. "He's all right."

"Talk a lot?" Sara teased.

"Not too much, no," Leonard responded, making his retreat.

~~*~~

Sara pulled out a school newspaper with pictures of all the senior class in it as she watched the quiet new guy practically run from the library. She found his photo and circled it, then crossed it out. "Cute, but no way," she mused.

~~*~~

Curtain’s call Is the last of all When the lights fade out All the sinners crawl

So they dug your grave And the masquerade Will come calling out At the mess you've made

Don't wanna let you down But I am hell bound Though this is all for you Don't wanna hide the truth

No matter what we breed We still are made of greed This is my kingdom come This is my kingdom come - Demons, by Imagine Dragons

Guess who? It's ten o'clock; do you care where your parents are? After all, it's a jungle out there. I don't know. Everywhere I look it seems that someone's getting butt surfed by the system. Parents are always talking about the system, and the sixties and how cool it was. I hate the sixties, I hate school, I hate principals, I hate vice principals! But my true pure refined hatred is reserved for guidance counsellors. Captain Cold just happens to have in his very hands a copy of a memo written by Mr. Slade Wilson, guidance counselor extraordinaire to one Miss Amanda Waller, high school principal. "I found Miranda un-remorseful about her current condition." Bastard can't even say she's knocked up. "And she's unwilling to minimize its effect on the morals of the student population." Guidance counsellors! If they knew anything about career moves would they have ended up as guidance counsellors?

~~*~~

Carter Hall was sitting in front of his computer, Captain Cold's livestream open in one window with a blank Word doc open in another.

He hastily muted his computer as his mom knocked on the open door. "Carter have you finished your homework yet?"

"Yes," he somberly answered.

"Your father and I are downstairs, why don't you come and join us for once," she implored.

"No," Carter refused.

"Okay, Carter, have it your way," she said, sadly.

"Thanks," Carter said as she retreated.

Carter unmuted his computer as he typed: Dear Captain Cold, do you think I should kill myself?

~~*~~

I took the pistol and I shot out all the lights I started running in the middle of the night The law ain't never been a friend of mine I would kill again to keep from doing time You should never ever trust my kind

I'm a wanted man I got blood on my hands Do you understand I'm a wanted man - I'm a Wanted Man, by Royal Deluxe

Send me your most pathetic moment, your most anything, as long as it's real. I mean I want the size, the shape, the feel, the smell. I want blood, sweat, and tears in these messages. I want brains and ectoplasm all over them. Hallelujah! And now, all my chilly listeners, get comfy because my White Canary is back. "Come in. Every night you enter me like a criminal. You break into my brain, but you're no ordinary criminal. You put your feet up, you drink your mug of hot chocolate, you start to party, you turn up my stereo. Songs I've never heard, but I move anyway. You get me crazy, I say 'Do it.' I don't care what, just do it. Jam me, jack me, push me, pull me -talk hard!" I like that. Talk Hard. I like the idea that a voice can just go somewhere uninvited and just kind of hang out like a dirty thought in a nice clean mind. To me a thought is like a virus. You know, it can just kill all the healthy thoughts and just take over. That would be serious.

Sara was lying on her bed, listening to Captain Cold read her message for all the world to hear. "That would be totally serious," she agreed.

I know all of my chilly listeners would love it if I would just call up the pretty bird lady. But no! Because she never encloses her number.

Sara laughed. "Tough luck, creepoid."

She's probably a lot like me, a legend in her own mind. But you know what, I bet in real life she's probably not that wild. I bet she's kind of shy like so many of us who briskly walk the halls, pretending to be late for some class, pretending to be distracted. Hey, poetry lady, are you really this cool? Are you out there? Are you listening?

"I'm always out here," Sara promised.

I feel like I know you, and yet… we'll never meet. Ah, so be it. I don't know; drugs are out, sex is out, politics are out, everything is on hold. I mean we definitely need something new. We just keep waiting for some new voice to come out of somewhere and just say, "Hey, wait a minute, what is wrong with this picture?" Well maybe this is the answer to everything, wouldn't that be nice, huh? "Dear Captain Cold, do you think I should kill myself?" Great! Signed, "I'm Serious." And of course there is a number here. Hello, Serious?

Carter Hall took a deep breath and answered his phone. "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?" Captain Cold asked.

"Yep," Carter answered.

"I guess what I'm asking is how serious are you? How are you going to do it?" Captain Cold asked.

"I'm gonna blow my fucking head off," Carter responded.

"Oh! Well, do you have a gun?" Captain Cold asked.

"No, I'm going to use my finger, genius," Carter said, sarcastically.

"All right. So where is this gonna take place, huh?"

"Right here," Carter said.

"Where is this alleged gun? Do you have it with you? Did you at least write a note? You have a reason, don't you? You're not going to be one of those people who kills themselves and nobody has any idea of why they did it? Hey, that's why we need a note, pal!" Captain Cold cajoled.

"I'm all alone," Carter admitted.

"No, hey, look, maybe it's okay to be alone sometimes, everybody's alone," Captain Cold insisted.

"You're not," Carter said.

"I didn't talk to one person today, not- not counting teachers. I sit alone every day you know, sitting in the stairwell eating my lunch, reading a book. What about you?"

Carter hung up the phone. His mind was already made up. He loaded the gun.

I hate that, now I'm depressed. Now I feel like killing myself, but luckily I'm too depressed to bother. Great! Straight to voicemail. Rejected again, that's okay I'm used to it, terminal loneliness. People always think they know who a person is but they're always wrong. Most parents have no idea. It's just that mine had me tested because I sit alone in my room alone, naked, wearing only a cock ring, heh heh! I mean it really bugs me, everyone knows what a person should be, who cares how I should be! You know, in real life I could be that anonymous nerd sitting across from you in Chem. Lab, staring at you so hard, you turn around, he tries to smile, but the smile just comes out all wrong. You just think how pathetic, then he just looks away and never looks back at you again. Well, hey, who cares, that's my motto. Well, sleep tight, Miranda, sleep tight, White Canary, sleep tight, Mr. Serious. Maybe you'll feel better tomorrow.

Sara went to the paper she had taped to the wall of what she knew about Captain Cold so far. She wrote down that he ate lunch on the stairs reading a book.

She had a pretty good idea where to go look now.

~~*~~

Leonard was sitting outside with an open book and his lunch the next day, like he did every day.

The pretty girl from the library skipped down the stairs and stopped in front of him. "Hi, got a stick of gum?" She grabbed the package out of his shirt pocket, triumphantly. "Black Jack! My name's Sara, what's yours?"

"Leonard."

"Leonard," she repeated. "Well, hi, Leonard."

"Hi," Leonard said, marking his place in his book and closing it.

"Listen, I was gonna cut fourth period, do you wanna join me in the art supply room?" Sara asked.

"Er, no, I can't, got to go, sorry," Leonard said, awkwardly getting to his feet and practically running off.

"Sorry!" Sara called after him. "Maybe next time."

~~*~~

Mrs. Smoak was somber as she got the class's attention. "I have some very upsetting news. Last night one of our students, Carter Hall, took his own life. For those of you who knew him, there will be a memorial service at Dempsey Hall on Friday. I know it hurts, it's painful to lose someone."

~~*~~

Leonard found a quiet corner on campus and pulled out his phone. He opened Captain Cold's Facebook account and read the newest message from White Canary aloud, to himself. "You're the voice crying out in the wilderness, you're the voice that makes my brain burn and makes my guts go gooey. Yeah, you gut me, my insides spill out on your altar and tell the future, my steaming gleaming guts spill out your nature. I know you, not your name, but your game. I know the true you, come to me or I'll come to you."

"So you are him," Sara exclaimed from behind Leonard, causing him to jump. "Don't worry I'm not going to bust you or anything. Aren't you going to ask who I am?"

"No, I don't think so. No!" Leonard said.

"I'm the White Canary!" She boasted. "You don't believe me." She grabbed his phone and quoted without looking at the screen, "'I know you, not your name, but your game. I know the true you, come to me or I'll come to you.' Hey, relax, I'm not really like that, except when I am."

Leonard tried to get away from her, still upset from learning about Carter's suicide. "Look, I really can't handle this right now, okay?"

Sara looked at him sympathetically, as if she could read his mind. "Look, it's not your fault. I was listening last night. I didn't think he'd go through with it."

~~*~~

You're free to do what you want You never thought of consequences You created your own little world Where you could always be different

A place where the rules do not apply You could never be denied You took advantage of a good think Now the void you filled is empty

Put the mask back on Put the mask back on Don't take it off 'til everybody's gone

Put the mask back on Put the mask back on No disguise has ever lasted so long - Cover Up, by Trapt

You see I never planned it like this. I set up this account to talk to my old friends, but they didn't know to look for me under this handle. I thought I was talking to nobody. I imagined that nobody was listening. Maybe I imagined one person out there. Anyway one day I woke up and I realized I was never going to be normal and so I said fuck it, I said so be it and Captain Cold was born. I never meant to hurt anyone, honestly, I never meant to hurt anyone. I'm sorry, Carter. I never said, "Don't do it." I'm sorry. Um, anyway I'm done, stick a fork in me it's been grand. This is Captain Cold saying sayonara, over and out.

Sara sat staring at her computer as the video ended. "Come on, you can't do this," she told the screen.

Laurel shook her phone in the bedroom next to Sara's. "This is a joke right?"

"C'mon, Captain baby, don't stiff," Mick, Sin's boyfriend, complained as they watched together.

Leonard Snart paced around his bedroom, staring at his computer equipment. "What am I doing? Fuck It!" He sat back down and queued up a new video session.

You hear about some kid who did something stupid, something desperate. What possessed him? How could he do such a terrible thing? It's really quite simple, actually. Consider the life of a teenager. You have parents and teachers telling you what to do. You have movies, magazines, and TV telling you what to do. But you know what you have to do. Your job, your purpose, is to get accepted, get a cute girlfriend, and think up something great to do with the rest of your life. What if you're confused and can't imagine a career? What if you're funny looking and you can't get a girlfriend? You see no one wants to hear it, but the terrible secret is that being young is sometimes less fun than being dead.

"This is great, he's making it worse," the reporter commented to his cameraman outside the high school the kid who'd killed himself had attended. Whoever this guy was behind the parka and goggles, he'd made an impression. Whether that impression was good or bad, remained to be seen. What would get better ratings?

Suicide is wrong, but the interesting thing about it is how uncomplicated it seems. There you are, you got all these problems swarming around your brain, and here is one simple, one incredibly simple solution. I'm just surprised it doesn't happen every day around here. Now, now they're going to say I said offing yourself is simple, but no, no, no, no, it's not simple. It's like everything else, you have to read the fine print. For instance, assuming there is a heaven who would ever wanna go there, you know? I mean think about it, sitting on this cloud, you know it's nice, it's quiet, there's no teachers, there's no parents, but guess what? There's nothing to do! Fucking boring. Another thing to remember about suicide is that it is not a pretty picture. First of all, you shit your shorts, you know. So, there you are, dead, people are weeping over you, crying, girls you never spoke to are saying, "Why? Why? Why?" and you have a load in your shorts! That's the way I see it. Sue me. Now, they're saying I shouldn't think stuff like this. They're saying something is wrong with me, that I should be ashamed. Well, I'm sick of being ashamed. Aren't you?

"Sick to death!" Laurel agreed.

I don't mind being dejected and rejected, but I'm not going to be ashamed about it.

"Hallelujah," Sara called out.

At least pain is real. You look around and you see nothing is real, but the pain is real. You know, even this show isn't real. This isn't me; I'm using a voice disguiser. I'm a phony fuck just like my dad, just like anybody. You see, the real me is just as worried as the rest of you. They say I'm disturbed, well, of course, I'm disturbed. I mean we're all disturbed, and if we're not, why not? Doesn't this blend of blindness and blandness want to make you do something crazy? Then why not do something crazy? It makes a hell of a lot more sense than blowing your fucking brains out, you know. Go nuts, go crazy, get creative! You got problems? You just chuck 'em, nuke 'em! They think you're moody? Make 'em think you're crazy, make 'em think you might snap! They think you got attitude? You show 'em some real attitude! Come on, go nuts, get crazy. Hey no more Mr. Nice Guy! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, oh god!! ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, oh yes.

We're all excited But we don't know why Maybe it's cause We're all gonna die

And when we do (When we do) What's it all for (What's it all for) You better live now Before the grim reaper come knocking on your door

Tell me, are we gonna let de-elevator bring us down? Oh, no let's go!

Let's go crazy Let's get nuts Look for the purple banana Until they put us in the truck, let's go! - Let’s Go Crazy, by Prince

~~*~~

Laurel Lance took Captain Cold's words to heart. She grabbed her ribbons and trophies - symbols of her academic achievement, of her so-called perfect life, and carried them down to the kitchen where she stuffed them in the microwave. Just before she slammed the door closed, she ripped off her stupid pearls and tossed them in, too. She punched something into the timer and watched in fascination as the items slowly spun around until the microwave exploded, spitting debris hit her in the face, knocking her out.

The explosion drew Sara out of her bedroom and down the stairs where she found her sister unconscious on the floor. She looked around, bewildered, until she saw the microwave and she burst out laughing.

"You tell 'em, Captain Cold," she muttered, reaching for her phone to call an ambulance.

~~*~~

The next day, Leonard watched as students rearranged the cards on the notice boards to spell out STAY COLD and hung signs that said THE TRUTH IS A VIRUS. Some of the teachers were running around freaking out, trying to get it all down. Others thought it was about time someone made a stand.

Sara tracked down Leonard and got him alone in the art room. "So, I don't know if you know this, but my sister is the perfect Laurel Lance." Leonard shook his head to indicate that he had not known this. "So, last night she burned up all her shit right after you suggested it, in our kitchen! Oh, her precious pearls were flying like bullets. Dad was un-thrilled."

Leonard ran a hand over his closely shorn hair. "This is out of control."

"Yeess!" Sara emphatically agreed, grinning maniacally.

"That's it, it's over. I just hope it isn't too late," Leonard said.

"Leonard!" Sara called after him as he ran away, again.

"Just leave me alone, okay, please?" he called back over his shoulder.

~~*~~

Leonard allowed his dad to drag him to the PTA meeting at the school. He slumped down in his chair as Principal Waller tried to conduct regular business when all the parents wanted to do was talk about him. Well, Captain Cold. He sat up straighter as Laurel Lance walked up on the dais.

"My name is Laurel Lance and I have something to say to you people. People are saying that Captain Cold is introducing bad things and encouraging bad things. But it seems to me that these things were already here. My god, why don't you people listen? He's trying to tell you something is wrong with this school. Half the people that are here are on a probation of some kind. We are all really scared to be who we really are. I am not perfect. I've just been going through the motions of being perfect, and inside I'm screaming."

"Laurel, you were a model student," Waller said, disappointment evident in her voice.

Leonard made a hasty retreat after Laurel left. This was all getting to be too much.

~~*~~

Leonard stood leaning against the wall outside the sliding door of his basement bedroom, deleting messages for Captain Cold on his phone.

"Hi! What are you doing? You having fun?" Sara asked as she approached him.

"Yeah," Leonard said, absently.

"Hey, look, I took some of these off the wall for you. I mistakenly thought you might want them," she said, thrusting some handmade signs at him.

"Thanks," Leonard said, letting them fall to the ground.

"So I guess you're not going on tonight," Sara commented after a few minutes of silence.

"Brilliant," Leonard drawled, pushing off the wall and going back into his room.

Sara huffed, following him. "Is this all just a game to you? You know you can't just shout 'fire' in a theatre and then walk out. You have a responsibility for the people who believe in you. What is this? C'mon say something, say anything. Open your mouth and say, 'Get the hell out of here bitch.'"

"I can't," Leonard said.

"You can't what?" Sara demanded.

"I can't talk," Leonard ground out.

Sara snorted. "Sure you can talk."

"I can't talk to you," he clarified. He let out a noise of frustration as he sat in front of his computer, put on his headset, and opened Facebook.

I got a message from this guy who's got a problem, he can't talk. I mean he can talk, but never when he wants to, not to girls, not to people. He just opened up his mouth and nothing came out. And this jerk finds somebody that he likes, which is probably the worst thing to happen to a person who can't talk. So, I don't know what to tell this guy because lately every time I give out advice the fit hits the shan. So, I don't know, maybe the best thing to do is just turn around and face the music and try to talk.

Leonard turned around to talk to Sara but she's gone.

"Leo," Lewis called, knocking on the door.

"Coming," Leonard called back, pausing the video and turning off the monitor.

"Leo, it's just me. I wanna come in for a minute," Lewis said, turning the locked doorknob.

"Yeah, just give me a second here, two seconds," Leonard said, taking off the headset and hiding it under a dirty tee-shirt.

"Open the goddamn door," Lewis shouted.

"On my way," Leonard said, checking the room one last time before yanking the door open.

"I have been out there for two minutes, what the hell are you doing in here?" Lewis demanded, looking for evidence of drugs or alcohol. Or a Facebook video.

"I was just reading," Leonard said, gesturing to the book on his desk.

"Oh c'mon, Leo, I heard you. I heard you talking," Lewis said.

"I was reading aloud," Leonard quickly said.

"Oh c'mon, do you really expect me to believe that?"

"Okay, I'll tell you the truth," Leonard said, not sure what he was going to say.

"He was talking to me," Sara said, popping up from behind the loveseat. "Hi, I'm Sara Lance."

"Nice to meet you," Lewis said, stunned. "How do you do?"

"I was afraid you would be mad at me for disturbing Leonard's homework," Sara said.

"You don't know how happy I am to meet you," Lewis said, looking at his son with new appreciation.

"Listen, I've got to go, but it was really nice to have met you. Bye, Leonard," Sara said, taking a step towards the sliding door.

"No, you don't have to go. Leo, she doesn't have to go," Lewis said.

"Bye now, see you tomorrow," Sara said with a wink to Leonard as she slipped outside.

"You've been a bad dog, haven't you?" Lewis said, punching his son lightly on the arm. "You know, for a second there I thought you were that crazy Facebook character they've been talking about on the news."

"Maybe he's not that crazy, Dad," Leonard suggested.

"Right! Very funny. Go get her, go on. That's my idea of homework," Lewis cajoled.

After his dad left, Leonard got his microphone back on and resumed his session.

Sorry about that, folks, technical difficulties. Let's see who we have out there tonight. The usual band of teenage malcontents. I certainly hope so, because Captain Cold is feeling kind of rude tonight.

~~*~~

Let's go out in flames so everyone knows who we are 'Cause these city walls never knew that we'd make it this far We've become echoes, but echoes are fading away So let's dance like two shadows, burning out a glory day

Devil's on your shoulder Strangers in your head As if you don't remember As if you can forget It's only been a moment It's only been a lifetime But tonight you're a stranger Some silhouette - Silhouette, by Aquilo

After Leonard put on the song he went outside to get some air. It had been a surreal night so far. He'd called Mr. Wilson again and was informed that his phone was being traced. Too bad for the cops that it was a burner phone. They could triangulate his signal, but not to his specific address, especially once he removed the battery and sim card from the phone.

He wasn't surprised that Sara was out there, listening to his cast on her phone.

"It's okay, you don't have to talk, you don't have to say anything and you don't have to do anything, unless you want to," she said, approaching him slowly.

"You're so different," Leonard said. "I mean, you're so fearless. I wish I could be like you."

"You are," Sara said, stepping close to him. They're so close but still not touching. Swaying together in the warm breeze. Almost dancing.

"I wish I could say things to you," Leonard said, raising a hand to hover over her cheek before lowering it.

"You do," Sara said, so earnestly. She grabbed his hand and placed it over her heart.

"Everything's so strange," Leonard whispered, his fingers flexing against her shirt.

"Yeah," Sara agreed, her breath hitching at their nearness.

"Maybe we're just crazy," Leonard said, meeting her eyes.

"So be it," Sara said, rising on her toes and pressing her lips to his.

Leonard wrapped his free arm around her back, pulling Sara closer as she wound her arms around his neck. The kiss was clumsy, messy, all teeth and hard lips, but neither cared. They paused, panting for breath before coming together again in a much more satisfying kiss.

"So be it," Leonard whispered against her lips.

The End

[leviackergod]

#Favourite Naruto Characters (Itachi Uchiha)

Let me tell you about one of my favorite characters in Naruto and the reason why I loved him. This post is about Itachi Uchiha of the Hidden Leaf. 

When Itachi was first introduced in the series, I thought of him as a ruthless, cruel and one of the strongest villain I’d ever seen in Naruto. He could take you down on an instant just by looking at you. Well it’s also a bit risky for his side but nevermind that, I couldn’t help but to feel intimidated by his eyes alone. Just look at those eyes.

Itachi is one of the characters I enjoyed watching in the series. His philosophy, how he dealt with his life, and all the words that came out of his mouth were sensible and wise and life-relatable for such a young man like him. I couldn’t help but to admire his way of thinking but at the same time he’s a very mysterious person.

At first, I thought Itachi was a jerk for torturing sasuke especially when he casted the tsukuyomi on him. I wouldn’t deny my heart broke when Itachi mercilessly hit sasuke like some weakling and showed him how his power was nothing compared to his. I can’t deny it’s true because sasuke was still a child and got a long way to go. I just couldn’t think of any reason why he’d do that to sasuke so I’ve seen his character as deadly as his reputation. That’s what his character was portrayed. A criminal. I’ve seen him as a cold-hearted man who has a greed for power to the point that he wiped out his entire clan to attain it and in order to test his capabilities. He was a rogue ninja, listed as a S-ranked in bingo book, and joined Akatsuki.

When his story along with sasuke as a child was shown, I knew something was off. I saw how Itachi loved Sasuke when they were young, he was once a good older brother to him and somewhere between the story, he just lost it. From then on, I knew there were so much to learn about why Itachi did what he did. There are tons of gaps and silences so I thought that was interesting. He developed a kind of ‘sign of affection’ towards his little brother. The poking of forehead thing. Well, in some way this could also mean that he was creating distance with Sasuke, always saying it with ‘sorry sasuke, maybe some other time.’ but this action meant a lot to sasuke because it proved to him that even if Itachi was becoming different, he still acted the same towards Sasuke. And it gave him hope. Here’s our very cute uchiha brothers doing the legendary poking of the forehead.

Alright moving on in shippuden, the most awaited battle between the uchiha siblings! I noticed how skinny Itachi had become and could someone tell me why he kept on hanging his left arm out of his cloak? Does it have something to do with his illness?

Okay I should say, this part is like the turning point of itachi’s story. The truth behind the clan’s massacre was unfolded by Tobi. Not that I was shocked or anything but I never thought Itachi could carry such a heavy burden by himself. My heart broke knowing that he didn’t tell everything to Sasuke. Until death, he deceived sasuke of wanting to take his eyes and obtain the lightness. He was willing to bury all his secrets along with him down the grave. That’s how I truly understood how selfless Itachi could be.

“Forgive me, Sasuke… This is my reality… Give me your light.”

Itachi dealt with his pain alone his entire life, he was named a criminal and a traitor by his own and entire village, he was hated by his little brother and swore to avenge his clan. I think that from the moment he slaughtered his entire clan, he already accepted his fate to be killed by sasuke. In that way, he could be atoned for his sins. He was ready to die. He didn’t even want Sasuke to know about the truth about their clan. Starting from the planning of coup d’etat against Konoha and all that. That’s when itachi’s actions in the past made sense to me. He provoked Sasuke to hate him and use that hatred to get stronger and defeat him when he’s ready. The fact that he was ill, and took different kinds of medicine just to stay alive because he wants to die by Sasuke’s hand and make him a hero of their clan and the hidden leaf. Even before his death, all he ever thought about was his beloved little brother. Who wouldn’t cry on this scene? Why are you always breaking my heart, Itachi?

Seeing how Itachi cried before killing his parents made me cry a river. He never thought of himself. He always had put his village on top of everything even before his clan. Having to witnessed the third great ninja war at such a young age, Itachi became a pacifist. Even as a child, he had a mind like a hokage just as how the Third Hokage specified. That’s why they entrusted everything to Itachi. He became a double agent for both the government and his clan. Well, Danzo as evil as he was, planned all of this. He took advantage of Itachi’s love for his little brother and him being a pacifist, and made him choose between wiping out his entire clan with exception of Sasuke and prevent a civil war in Konoha or otherwise, allow them to start the coup and might result to fourth great ninja war. The only thing that saddened me was the fact that there was no other way but that. 

He was left with no choice. He had his own different vision of the future that he thought was the right one. And I know that when Sasuke was born, he became the most important person to Itachi that he’d protect forever. Even more important than the village because for Itachi, Sasuke is the future. 

So he begged the third hokage to take care of Sasuke and even went back after he died to remind danzo and the elders that they couldn’t harm Sasuke. He joined Akatsuki to spy from the inside and protect his village. I’m not pretty sure if his reason includes being a threat to the village if they tried to hurt Sasuke but I’m sure it is one of his conditions. Have you ever wondered why Akatsuki never tried to harm Konoha until Itachi died? Or was it merely just a coincidence? 

Everything that happened to Itachi was so messed up. He took all the blame but still he was so proud to die as a shinobi of the leaf even if the villagers loathed him. If this couldn’t touch your heart, then I don’t know what can.

On a filler episode before Kaguya’s fight, Itachi’s story was shown. He was portrayed as a pacifist, and a prodigy. He always questioned about the meaning of life and death. Who as early as 4 years old would ever think like that? He was too early to know about the horrors of the world but he bravely accepted it. He also grew up always thinking about the future of the village and constantly searching for peace. He was very sensitive and pure-hearted. He spent his time in training than enjoying his childhood like the rest of the kids. He wasn’t that sociable, but despite being a genius, he never boasted and thought of himself as a superior. He was very modest, loyal, kind and a true friend. My favorite part of his personality? He adored and loved Sasuke more than anyone in the world. 

He would always protect him no matter what even only from the shadows. Well, it might be a different kind of love, something Sasuke had never seen nor felt because he was blinded by hatred. Everyone could be like Sasuke, hating him without realising the whole truth and I admit I was wrong to judge Itachi. For everything that he have done, I’m so proud of Itachi. For me, his character is one of the best in the series. Tbh, he is too good for the world. RIP ITACHI </3