#equal opportunity thirst trap

[megamijadeheart]

Me: I like knowing you well enough that I can forward you posts I find and are relevant to your interests.

Partner: <blushing> I like that too. The Star Trek: TNG one today was really good.

Partner: One of the things I like about the new one is they are trying to recapture the retro charm of the original series, but updated for modern sensibilities. Like the sexism with the minidresses is gone. The nurse character is wearing a flattering white jumpsuit, but so is every member of medical staff, male or female. So it's still a thirst trap, but it's treated as a uniform.

Me: see, I didn't mind the minidresses, I just think everyone should have had the option to wear them. Just have it be a standard uniform variation. Let Spock walk onto the bridge in a blue micro-mini and black gogo boots and go about his job like normal and no one says a damned thing about it.

Partner: <laughing> and McCoy?

Me: exactly! Picture Kirk sitting in his captain chair the way he always does, but micro-mini.

Partner: <breaking down blushing again> oh God, Commander Riker? The way he sits in chairs? That would be a Power Move.

[lurkingshan]

The face journeys Nick has in these first interactions with Boston tell us so much. First of all:

He is absolutely stunned to look up from his game and realize Boston is in front of him. Everything in his reactions here tells me he knows who Boston is and has maybe already been crushing on him from afar? We see him react, then quickly get it together and ask Boston to step around the counter, and then follow Boston’s movements with his eyes in a kind of daze. He is trying to process quickly and figure out what to do with this golden opportunity.

And here is the moment when he figures it out. He makes this face just before saying he will need to order supplies and asks Boston to come back another day, thus ensuring they will see each other again. And from there the two of them exchange some pretty obvious flirtatious comments.

When Boston comes back to get his phone, Nick is ready with the rest of his plan, having planted a thirst trap for Boston to discover (after first doing some other highly unethical things with the phone as @isaksbestpillow pointed out lol). And when he grabs Boston’s hand to lead him down the aisle, here’s what his face is doing:

To me, this reads like he is once again kind of stunned this is happening, and feeling excited and nervous in equal measure. He’s going for it but it’s clear he’s a bit out of his depth making a play for someone on Boston’s level, and he doesn’t have the easy confidence of someone who hooks up on the regular. This is out of the norm for him.

Which is further confirmed by how overwhelmed he gets once they start making out. He has to pull back to breathe and get ahold of himself, and once the lights go out we hear him start to let out a series of quiet moans even before anyone’s pants come off. Boston is confident, calm, and collected the entire time, but Nick is clearly outside his comfort zone.

So anyway what I’m saying is pray for Nick because Boston’s going to destroy him without even trying.

[issuesdolly]

Your Jonathan Davis Meet & Greet Gets Kinky

Content warning: 18+ Smut, handjob, oral, unprotected sex, p in v, jealousy/teasing sex, finishing inside 

#jonathandavis  #jonathan davis #korn #jon davis #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #edging #degredationkink #degredation #jondavis #degredationkink #exhibition #publicsex #exhibitionkink #edging #edginganddenial 

Summary: You are Jonathan Davis’s girlfriend and you accompany him to a Meet & Greet where fans get to interact with him. You generally don’t get jealous but this particular Meet & Greet tests your patience as some fans get way too friendly and flirty with him, touching him to the point of making him aroused. After you get angry, Jonathan decides to make it up to you in a very hot, kinky way.... to reassure you.

Side note: I have a TikTok where I make sexy/funny Jonathan Davis edits and thirst traps if y'all are interested. My Tiktok is not for clout/promotion btw this dude is my hobby haha...

Example of one of my videos:

Link to my TikTok channel:

Story:

You had accompanied Jonathan to several of his Meet & Greet events before. They were generally pretty tame as people were extremely excited to meet him but pretty respectful when they actually do. This Meet and Greet was a bit different. It was an event inside a mall outlet store music shop where it's just a meet with Jonathan and not the other band members. He was promoting his solo project and each fan gets a 1 minute chat, a picture and something signed. The two of you had planned to go out to dinner together after the event so it was easier to follow him to the one hour Meet & Greet and go to dinner together after than to wait at home. 

Security and entourage were all around, chaperoning the interactions and giving each fan the gentle "time's up" escort after they had their moment. You stood in the corner with a cup of coffee, watching it all go down. You were so proud of him. You loved how radiant his smile was and how kind he was to everybody. No matter how long he has done these kinds of events, he still has a bit of giddy social awkwardness so when a fan is lost for words and over-excited, there's still a bunch of awkward laughter and pauses from Jonathan as well. 

And of course, people LOVE to touch him and give him hugs. You've generally accepted this. He's very talented and equally turns people on and has for decades with his sexy stage presence. It's totally undeniable that women, men, transgender and folks of all pronouns are desperate for a picture snuggling him and giving him a big hug. People pull out all sorts of body parts in hopes he will sign them so they can get it tattooed. It's overwhelming just how much people want him to leave a "mark" on them in some way. It's also funny when the men try to play it cool with a civil handshake but clearly wish they could grab him in a hug like the female fans do. However, NO ONE is more forward, aggressive and borderline disrespectful than the female fans. They have no shame. In your heart, you can't really blame them. If this was your only moment with him, you'd probably act the same. 

Jonathan always does his best to play it cool though. He'll give them a nice hug, call them "hun" or "sweetheart" and let them embrace him but hasn't crossed any lines anymore. Since he's been with you, he's not hooked up with groupies on tour or taken advantage of the same "opportunities." Generally you both were amused when you'd watch a fan totally lose their cool. For example, one women got her moment with Jonathan for a picture and was so afraid to touch him she was shaking. Jon took the lead and wrapped an arm around her waist and she accidentally let out a giddy moan followed by inappropriately loud laughter. After her picture she went to turn around and shake his hand goodbye and managed to trip over his foot and fall. Security helped her to her feet while Jon said "oh shit sorry hun, are you ok?" All she could do was smile and nod and skulk away as her friend laughed her ass off. Jonathan gave you glances from time to time as the two of you grinned at each other and laughed. People's reactions were sometimes pretty damn funny. 

It was getting towards Jon's 20 min break before the next round of Meet & Greet fans got their turn with him. Next up in line was a young lady who looked to be 18 to 20 or so. You smelled trouble. She were dressed beyond provocatively and had a gorgeous see-through goth-lace shirt with a lace bra underneath and a short plaid miniskirt with chains on it. She paired this with thigh high fishnet stockings and heeled boots. She had long and shiny, gorgeous, wavy jet black hair and amazing makeup and piercings. She looked like a pornographic version of Wednesday Addams. Unfortunately you knew this was EXACTLY Jonathan's type and that this girl looked sexy as hell to him. 

She slowly approached him with a seductive walk, keeping her cool FAR better than the other fans. Jonathan paused, watching her in a kind of stunned amazement and smiling. 

"Hi hun, what's your name?" Jon asked quietly. 

"Emilia," she said in a sultry, low voice, while shaking his hand and not being quick to let go of it. 

"Nice to meet you, Emilia," Jon replied meekly. 

"I can't believe I'm finally meeting you, I listened to your music all the damn time this year, I love you so much," she continued in her soft, beautiful voice. 

"Awww, you're too kind hun," Jon said while trying to avoid eye contact with her. She had gorgeous eyes and was giving him the "fuck me" stare and he was definitely trying hard to dodge it while smiling at the ground but stealing glances at her gorgeous body. 

Jon tried to break the silence. "So, did you bring something you'd like me to  sign or?" Jon said in a giddy tone. 

"No. Actually, I'm doing kind of a bucket list thing. I missed my prom. I was sick that night. Stayed home in bed listening to your music all night instead," Emilia continued while forcing eye contact with him and stepping closer. 

"Y...yeah? Sorry about your prom. Um. That sucks you missed it," Jonathan said trying to keep his composure. 

"That's alright," Emilia said. "I had a MUCH better night in bed listening to you," she said while giving him a naughty smirk and touching his shoulder. Jon couldn't help but let out a dark, dirty chuckle. She chuckled in response.

You were getting flustered by now, wondering just how much further this lady was going to push and tease him. 

"So my bucket list idea was if I meet you, take a prom style picture with you, if you're down," Emilia continued cooly, while moving her hand off his shoulder and pointing to her friend, who had her phone ready. 

You knew what she meant. She wanted Jon to stand behind her, with her back up against him and his arms wrapped around her from behind, to  reinvent those cute “couple's prom night” pictures. You were getting QUITE irritated by now. She'd made him an offer he can't refuse. People in line overheard her request and went "awww! Do it Jon!" 

Jon paused awkwardly and looked at her, grinning and sort of wringing his hands a bit, thinking about it. 

"Um. Sure hun, it's all good," he said. 

She wasted no time turning around and pressing her backside against him. As her friend got their cellphone camera positioned to take the picture, she pressed her short skirt up against the crotch of his pants. He briefly froze just staring down at her ass, pressed up against him in a skirt that barely covered it. Then he awkwardly moved his arms towards her waist for the "cuddle pose" picture. She was bold enough to grab his hands and place them firmly on her hips and hold him in place. She tugged his whole body further against her, pushing her ass into him harder. He tried to loosen her grasp on him a little. He shifted his body against her and briefly lost his balance, stunned by how forward she was being. He touched her hips gingerly with his fingers and tried hard to resist the urge the caress her. He clearly wanted to though. He let out some very nervous laughter while her friend said "ready?" and held up her phone.

Jonathan looked really flustered, even a bit red in the face, and smiled a big awkward smile while the camera flash captured their "moment." People applauded and went “aww” and a few cheered and went “woooo!” and whistled "whe-whewwww!" because it was a pretty damn sexy/cute picture. 

You'd seen enough. You were finally pissed. You stormed off into the breakroom and as you walked by security you heard two of them chuckle and one say "told you so man! He shouldn't have brought his girl haha." Sounded like they had wagers going on how long before you lose your cool over thirsty groupies. 

You overheard break-time being called shortly after and Jonathan entered the dressing room with a few people from his entourage. He saw you sulking and standing in the corner with a dark expression on your face. He asked them to give you guys some time alone. They agreed and stepped out. 

Before you said ANYTHING, Jonathan said "look.... I KNOW. That went too far, I'm sorry. I didn't really know what to do, she caught me off guard." Jon stepped towards you and went to give you a big hug. You rejected it, stepping across the room to sulk some more. He trailed after you, pulling you in closer while trying to give you a big reassuring embrace. "I'm sorry! I should have thought about it!" Jonathan continued. You let him hug you finally.

However, as you were hugging him, your fronts were pressed together and you could feel a bulge in his pants. You let go of him and looked down and could see his very obvious erection. He immediately realized you had noticed and tried to adjust himself while looking embarrassed. You locked eyes with him and gave him an angry scowl. 

"You already had a hard-on when you fucking came in here, didn't you?!" you demanded. 

Jonathan squinted with embarrassment and put his head in his hands, groaning and sighing, while slowly nodding in acknowledgment and stepping away from you.

"She fucking turned you on! You got a damn boner! I knew it" you said, very flustered at this point. 

"I don't know what to say sweetheart, dicks are stupid! She smelled amazing, she was down to fuck and she was batshit crazy, I'm SORRY. You know I wouldn't though! It's- it's biological ... it's-..... DICKS ARE DUMB!!!" Jonathan repeated, stumbling over his words and stuttering with apologies and humiliation.

You stormed over to the couch and sat down. You weren't going to admit it yet, but you knew he was right. Women are ALWAYS trying to seduce him and beg for it and just because he CAN doesn't mean he would fuck them anymore. 

"Just fu--- fu... I don't know! Put yourself in my shoes," Jonathan said while sitting down next to you on the couch. You scooted away from him as he tried to touch you. "Imagine there was a literal line out the door full of super hot dudes desperate for even one minute with you, trying to seduce you, tease you and fucking feel you up. Maybe your pussy would get wet or something. Maybe your n-- nipples would get hard! But you wouldn't act on it! It's fucking crazy! It still trips me out anyone is that into me! But- but it’s biological... humans.. we ... fucking suck! Someone grabs you like that and you get horny! Then you gotta fight with your conscience! It's just fucking nature vs. your willpower and it's embarrassing. I'm sorry!! I’m SO, SO SORRY!!" Jonathan said while still trying to pull you in for a hug on the couch. 

You reluctantly allowed him to hug you and pull you closer. He caught his breath and breathed hard while pausing, knowing there's not much else he can say. He gave you a very firm, loving hug. You finally returned it and looked him in the eye. You were on the verge of tears. He looked genuinely upset and embarrassed and deeply sorry. 

"I LOVE you. I'm not gonna fuck that up over some stranger. I don't do that shit anymore. I don't want to live with that kind of guilt anymore. You've made my life so much better. I'm not gonna throw that away just cuz someone rubs up against me, OK?" You didn't say anything. 

"OK?" Jonathan pleaded, while putting his hand on your chin and forcing you to make eye contact with him. His eyes looked like he was half ready to cry he was so embarrassed and upset he’d hurt you.  

You locked eyes with him and his eyes bore into you searching for an answer. 

"Ok," you whispered. He gave you a big, slow, deep kiss. 

"The difference is, YOU are the one I want to touch. YOU'RE the one who I want to come home to, ok?" 

You held him and shifted your position on the couch to face him. You draped your legs across his lap as he continued to hold you. Jonathan leaned in and kissed your lips, cheek and then your neck. 

"I'm all yours baby," Jonathan said quietly, right into your ear before slowly licking and biting it. You were still flustered and pissed but you weren't about to reject him. You immediately felt yourself shiver and your nipples tingle while he licked and nibbled your ear and neck. He made soft moaning noises as he put his hand on your neck and stroked it, gently grabbing it and pulling you in for a longer, deeper french kiss. 

He let you out of the kiss for a moment and breathed against your neck while slowly licking it and moving back up to your ear to whisper into it again. You felt your body tingling and your pussy starting to drip into your panties. 

"I'm ALL yours," he repeated. He took your hand with one of his and placed it on his lap, where his dick was still hard.... MUCH harder now. 

"And THIS, THIS….. is all yours too," he said in a deep, naughty, quiet voice as he pushed your hand against his dick. You moaned and your thighs shook a bit as the adrenaline shifted from rage adrenaline to insanely horny adrenaline. You started rubbing his hard cock through his pants and he groaned deeply. 

You rubbed his pants more firmly and were surprised how animalistic this whole jealousy thing had made you. You grabbed his dick through his pants and he encouraged you to, spreading his legs and sitting back on the couch, locking eyes with you and smiling while pressing your hand hard against his dick through his pants. He grunted and panted. It was clear he really wanted to take all that frustrated sexual energy the fans had left him with and give it all to you. 

"Let me make it up to you baby, RIGHT now," Jonathan said in a low voice. 

You moaned against his face as he nuzzled you with his beard and you just nodded in agreement. Without a word he got off the couch and knelt in front of you. You were wearing a skirt and a v neck shirt. You opened your legs as he knelt in front of you and parted your thighs. First he pushed his hands up into your shirt, squeezing and caressing your breasts while pushing you back against the couch and letting you whine and grab his dreads. He pushed your shirt up and took one of your breasts into his mouth, licking, sucking and nibbling your nipple. Your breasts tingle and your nipples hardened with arousal and your pussy got more soaked. You had to stay aware of where you were. In a BREAK room with entourage right outside and fans in the lobby waiting for him to return. You tried to stay quiet and keep your moans soft as you gripped his hair more firmly and he went on sucking your breast. 

He pushed his hand up your thigh and under your skirt. His hands were so big and warm and you were losing your mind. You had been so furious/jealous and now you were getting everything you wanted and needed. He reached your panties and gently rubbed your pussy through them. His hands felt the heat of your pussy and the fact the crotch of your panties was soaked all the way through to the outside. "Ooohhhh, so hot and bothered," Jonathan said while looking up at your face with a smirk. You had to laugh together. The two of you exchanged a naughty chuckle as Jon continued to rub your clit and pussy through your panties, which were now saturated at the crotch. "Mmmmff... my girl," he whispered at you while dragging his lips across your inner thighs. "Are you going to let me make my girl feel better now?" he asked in a soothing, naughty voice. 

"Yes... fuck yes!" was all you could reply as you held his head and stroked his hair. He gingerly rubbed his fingers against your pussy through your panties, before pulling them aside at the crotch. He knelt further into your inner thighs and braced himself against you and the couch. He plunged his face fully under your skirt and started taking deep licks into your pussy. You instinctively moaned... TOO loud.  Jon ALSO had to remember where the two of you were. 

He kept one hand on your thigh and raised another up to your mouth to cover it while he continued lapping your pussy and shaking his head rapidly against it so he stimulated your clit even more. You moaned loudly into his big hand as it covered your mouth. You felt faint, and when you opened your eyes and looked around the room, you realized your vision was practically hazy. It wasn't until then you realized that level of jealousy followed by actually fucking him was getting you off more than you could ever imagine. You pushed his face harder into your pussy and he let his tongue slide deeper into it as you continued moaning into his hand and breathing hard. 

Just then, there was a knock on the break room door. Both of you froze as you were a bit too lost in the moment. Neither of you responded quick enough and the door came open as one of Jonathan's managers stood in the doorway. "Jon, you're wanted back in 10 mi------ ah... SHIT." There was no denying what the two of you were doing.

His manager had walked in on Jon knelt in front of your open legs with his head buried under your skirt. The manager closed the door wordlessly. A moment passed as Jon pulled his face out from between your wet thighs and you pushed your skirt back down to cover yourself. On the other side of the door you could hear two of his entourage muttering to one another and one say "FUCK, not again!" This wasn't the first time the two of you had gotten carried away while he was doing something important. 

The door cracked open again as the manager reluctantly stepped back in while avoiding looking at what was going on in the room.

 "Do you think you could get your shit together, Jon? You're wanted back in 10 minutes" they said in an annoyed but resigned tone. 

"Y---yeah. YES. Sorry," Jonathan replied. 

Your cheeks were red and hot and all you could do was look at the ground and cover your face and bury it in your hands with embarrassment.

"Thank you. OK? 10 minutes," the manager reiterated before shutting the door. 

You shook your head and were extremely sexually frustrated now. His dick was still hard. You stood up from the couch as you said "we should stop. I'm sorry." 

Jonathan stood up and pushed a chair against the door, wedging it against the door knob. 

"FUCKIT," Jonathan said in a confident tone. "They aren't gonna do a Jonathan meet and greet without Jonathan!" He stepped back towards you and grabbed your waist. You couldn't believe it. He REALLY was determined to fuck you. But you weren't about to fight him off. "We'll have to make it quick.... but.... I want to finish what we started" Jonathan said with a dark smirk. You returned the smirk and nodded. 

Jonathan wasted no time. He kissed down your body and firmly grabbed your thighs, plunging his face back under your skirt and pulling your panties to the side again, licking your clit hard and firm and massaging it rapidly with his tongue. You couldn't help but moan and yelp and feel dizzy, using his shoulders for balance as he gripped your hips, making sure you didn't fall over. He bit the side of your panties and pulled them down your legs with his teeth. You moaned louder, watching him do this. You  moved your feet and stepped out of your panties, crushing yourself up against his face. He sucked on the lips of your pussy, pulling them gently with his lips and giving them gentle nibbles. He pushed a finger in and swirled it around inside you while gripping your hip with his other hand and sucking on your clit with his lips. You couldn't take it anymore. You NEEDED him inside you.

"S-s-stand up, come here!" you said. He obeyed you and rose up from where he was knelt in front of you. You breathed hard, staring at him. The two of you were pressed together.

"I wanna fuck you so bad right now," you whimpered. 

'So fuck me," Jonathan said in a quiet, calm voice, with a big grin on his face. Instead of doing ANYTHING to you, he let you take the lead. You saw his hard dick through his pants and instead of him undoing his own pants or pulling you into him, he placed both of his arms behind his back and folded his hands together as if he was handcuffed. He just stood there in front of you, waiting to see what you'd do to him while locking eyes with you. He looked down at his pants and then back up at your face, grinning. 

You went wild. You grabbed his waist and hungrily undid his belt buckle and undid the button and the zip on his pants. You pushed him against the wall of the break room and reached into his boxers, grabbing his hard dick and jerking him with one hand while pulling him by the hair with your other hand to bring him in for a deep kiss. 

He moaned and grunted into your mouth and his cock twitched in your hands. You rubbed the tip of his big dick with your thumb and could already feel precum leaking from the tip. He was as hard as he ever gets, clearly also insanely turned on by how much you desperately wanted to lay claim to him. He was definitely going to let you do whatever you wanted to him. You pressed yourself against him and kept giving him a handjob while the two of you exchanged sloppy kisses and an off-balance, dizzy embrace. 

Eventually HE too lost his cool. Witnessing your jealous rage and horniness for him had turned him on to the extreme as well. He was definitely getting off on knowing how bad you wanted him all to yourself. He pushed you back onto the couch. The couch was  too narrow to properly climb on top of you so instead, he grabbed your legs up in the air and pulled your body to the side so you were facing him on the couch.

He pulled your legs apart and placed your legs on each of his shoulders, lowering his pants and boxers more. He knelt in front of your pussy in a crouched position on the couch.... He paused for a moment, taking in just how bad you want it. You were gasping in anticipation. You gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him towards you and said "FUCKING DO IT!" you whined. He groaned and pushed his long, hard dick into you. You couldn't be quiet, but you tried. You placed your own hand over your mouth while he fucked you, deeper and deeper with each pump. 

"AGGGGHhHH.. S--SHHIIIIIIITTT" Jonathan sputtered while pushing further into your pussy and feeling it grip around him. You were so wet and slippery and still a bit enraged so you returned his firm pumps by aggressively bucking your hips forward against him. You looked at each other's flustered faces while he pushed deeper into you and he picked up speed. You were surprised you already felt so close to coming. I guess something about the adrenaline of rage and jealousy paired with the heat of the moment really had you going. 

You gripped his dreads and pulled him closer against you. You don't usually yank his hair this hard but you were still a bit enraged with him. He pressed on top of you, crushing you up against the couch and pumping hard into you. "FUCK. FUCK. SHHIIIITTT.... You really f--fu-ffucking wanted it hmmm?" Jonathan said. You groaned and nodded in return, pushing your hips forward against him.

Jon ground his crotch hard into you and held it there as you still had a firm grip on his hair. "Mmmmmmm... maybe I should make you jealous more often," Jon said in a naughty voice. You didn't like the thought of that…at least you didn’t THINK you did. But now, you were so close to coming you couldn't stand it. You squeezed your pussy tight around him and he winced and went "AGHHH!!! mmmmm" and pumped faster and faster. His huge cock was seeking your deepest regions and you desperately needed to cum with him. You pushed hard against him one more time, impaling yourself on cock. Your pussy pulsated as your orgasm hit you in delicious waves and you couldn't stop yourself from moaning and grunting loudly. 

Jonathan wasn't far behind. However, he slowed his pumps briefly while you came, just watching you, almost taken aback by the intensity of your orgasm. All he could do was moan and whimper watching your face and feeling your pussy squeeze and throb around his leaking dick as he was about to bust. "DAMN baby," Jon said as you opened your eyes slowly. You had squirted a little when you came and gotten his crotch extra wet.  You had definitely gone full animal on him. You REALLY needed that orgasm. "DAMN," he repeated, realizing just how hard you came all over his cock. He shook his head while smiling gleefully.  

Jonathan caught himself and continued pumping nice and hard. It  felt amazing as he fucked you in your post-orgasm bliss while your pussy and clit were drenched and super sensitive. However, Jonathan wasted no time pumping harder and faster into you, slamming you against the couch. You could hear the wet slapping of his balls against your drenched cunt and distantly, you could hear people outside the break room as they were getting more impatient. "AHHhhhhhh.... shi--I'm gonna cu- cum!" Jon groaned as his body started shaking. "Cum for me baby," you said while wrapping your legs tightly around him and pushing him as far into you as he could go. "AHHHH!!!! SHHiiiiiiiii----" Jon sputtered as he whimpered and blew inside you. His whole body shook as you hugged him tightly against you and he unloaded his full dick deep inside you. He lost his balance and fell against you on the couch as he came. The two of you blanked out together for a moment as he just emptied and emptied and tried to breathe. It sounded like he was literally having a difficult time inhaling new air.

There was a heavy quiet for a moment as the two of you just froze in that position until he was done pumping and leaking every last drop. You loosened your grip on his dreads and slowly parted your thighs, letting his crotch out of the lock you had him in while he'd come. He was lethargic and dizzy, while shaking and panting. The two of you slowly and reluctantly let go of each other as he pulled out of you. He whined and groaned as he tried to stand up, only to stumble and quickly fall back down on the couch with his dick still out of his pants, still leaking and dripping. The two of you sat side by side on the couch, catching your breath while dripping juices onto the fabric of it.

"Well SHIT, baby!" Jonathan eventually said with his voice breaking, as he began to giggle, trying to figure out how to clean up this mess. You locked eyes with him and giggled back. Just a few moments later there was an insistent knock on the door. The manager knew better than to open the door this time but they said in a pissed- off voice, "JON! You are wanted back at the meet and greet table... NOW."

"OK! ON MY WAY! SHIT MAN!" Jonathan said with his voice cracking as he slowly staggered to his feet, looking dazed and confused. Jonathan looked around the room for something to clean the two of you up with.

There was a tissue box on the table. He grabbed a bunch of tissues and wiped his leaking dick  and the front of his pants before handing some tissues to you for you to clean yourself up with. Your legs were shaking as you wiped your inner thighs and pussy and stumbled across the room to locate your panties and put them back on. As you put them back on you realized how soaked they were and thought of just throwing them away, but figured you'd better just wear them. His cum was leaking down your thigh so you lined your wet panties with some tissues so it wouldn’t leak all the way down your leg. 

The two of you embraced and slowly kissed one more time. 

Jonathan sighed, still breathing hard and beads of sweat coming down his forehead, as he pushed his sweaty, tangled hair out of his face. He leaned against your ear.

"I love you. Like I said....I'm All yours baby, I promise. Always," he whispered as he gently felt you up and kissed your cheek. 

"I love you too, Jon," you quietly replied.

You looked at his face. His beard was still a bit damp from him having gone down on you. You giggled and said "you should probably wash your face."

Jon pressed his hands against his face and gently mopped his beard while laughing and grinning. "Probably," he said while smirking. 

"Or maybe I'll just go back. There's probably not time anyway. You and I can just know you left your mark on me," he said while winking and smirking. 

The thought of him going back out there smelling like you turned you on incredibly. You grinned and just nodded your head. 

The two of you held hands and hobbled out of the break room unsteadily together, looking rather dazed and elated. Reluctantly you let go of his hand and stood back in the corner of the Meet & Greet room. He took slow, unsteady steps back to his Meet & Greet desk and the queue of fans continued to approach him one by one. He had the biggest goofy smile on his face and looked very exhausted now, still trying to catch his breath and play it cool.

Any chance he got, he exchanged a glance with you and you returned it with a naughty smile and a wave. Distantly you could hear his managers angrily muttering.

All you could make out was "someone's gotta tell Jon to stop letting his girl tag along to these damn things, man."

[whoishotteranimepolls]

Black Clover fandom. I get that Yami is supposed to be the hot boy and that there are actual thirst traps made of him in the anime. But why is he the hot one? In my opinion, the show has more attractive and interesting characters. However, they get zero attention because everyone's too focused on Yami's muscles. Please make it make sense

Defend your Blurbo #52

Please remember this post is about curiosity and genuine fandom discourse. Be kind with your answers because this is not a debate essay, this is a discussion between fans

Meet Yami Sukehiro from Black Clover. He's the captain of the Black Bulls Magic Knight Squad and uses dark magic, which he channels through his katana.

The anon is right. There were scenes that I could only describe as thirst traps with Yami. Black Clover is equal opportunity when it comes to fan service, and Yami is used for quite a bit of it. I can add the thirst trap gif if anyone is interested

So, Black Clover fandom, Defend your Blorbo

[bigsoftmarshmallow]

HIIII guess who got a request, huehuehue. So- a while back I think you did a "how would the dorfs react to a scenario like epic's "there are other ways", right? Well, how about the same idea- but with the song "love in paradice"? Imagining the dorfs trapped in an island with someone who immediately is like "OMG FINALLY A HUBBY♡♡♡" Makes me giggle.

I haven't heard this song yet T-T I have it on my watch later list but I get so busy during my days off and when I do have time to myself, I either pass out in a nap to catch up on sleep or get drawn into doom scrolling tiktok. @_@

But I have seen little shorts of this! I can definitely still work with your request. ^w^

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Being stranded on an island, trapped by magic, and confronted with a powerful, immortal goddess who immediately declares them her "husband" would provoke strong and varied reactions from the Ganondorfs and Demise. Each would handle the situation differently, based on their personalities and their views of power, control, and autonomy.

Wind Waker Ganondorf

Wind Waker Ganondorf has a melancholic and introspective nature. His experience with loss and obsession over Hyrule’s restoration would make him skeptical and frustrated with this situation, but he would not react rashly. The goddess’ claim of undying love would seem hollow to him, and her playful invulnerability would fuel his irritation.

Reaction: "Husband? Tch. I am no one’s plaything." His voice would be low, simmering with controlled anger as he assesses the goddess. His eyes would narrow, calculating his next move.

Despite her taunts of invulnerability, he wouldn’t be foolish enough to act out in violence immediately. Instead, he would bide his time, trying to discern the source of her power. Ganondorf is nothing if not patient, and he knows that even goddesses have weaknesses. But, while he plots an escape, he would attempt to manipulate her into revealing more about herself.

"If you wish to be loved, you’ll have to earn it," he would say coolly, turning her arrogance back on her, trying to find ways to exploit her power to his advantage.

Ocarina of Time Ganondorf

Ocarina of Time Ganondorf is ruthless, prideful, and possesses a towering ego. Being trapped, especially by a goddess who claims ownership of him, would enrage him, as his thirst for power makes him unwilling to be subjugated by anyone—even a goddess.

Reaction: His immediate response would be fury. "You think to chain me, goddess? I will not be tamed by some forgotten deity!" He would likely attempt to use his magic to attack her, but when the goddess laughs and dodges his blows, he would grit his teeth in frustration.

Her arrogance would only fuel his desire to break free, but Ganondorf would eventually stop wasting his energy and adopt a more cunning approach. He might engage in a battle of wits, trying to convince the goddess that their "marriage" could be beneficial for both of them—only to later betray her once he learns her secrets.

"If I cannot kill you, perhaps I’ll make you wish for death," he would threaten darkly, masking his growing impatience with feigned interest in her "love."

Twilight Princess Ganondorf

Twilight Princess Ganondorf is a master of cruelty and manipulation. He views power as his birthright, and the idea of being claimed by a goddess, trapped and "loved," would immediately rub him the wrong way. However, he would react in a more calculating manner, understanding that rashness would serve him no purpose here.

Reaction: "You claim to love me, yet you imprison me," he would say with a cold smile, stepping toward her with his usual calm menace. He’s a manipulator, and he would use this opportunity to try to twist the goddess’ own desires against her. If she cannot die, he will exploit her weaknesses elsewhere—perhaps in her emotions, her loneliness, or the nature of the island’s magic.

"If I am to be your husband, then you should treat me as an equal. Or do you fear what I would do if given true freedom?" His voice would drip with dark intent, testing her resolve.

In truth, Ganondorf would be planning a way to subvert her magic, finding cracks in her claims of invulnerability, knowing that no being is truly impervious. But, until then, he would play the part of a cooperative "husband," only to turn on her when the time is right.

Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf

Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf is perhaps the most brutal and battle-hungry of the versions, a warlord with a deep thirst for conquest and domination. He would see this goddess as a challenge, not merely an obstacle, but also as an opportunity to test his strength and perhaps even use her power for his own ends.

Reaction: "You wish to make me your consort? Foolish goddess!" His voice would boom with laughter, as though the very idea were absurd. He’s not one to be intimidated by claims of invulnerability, and he would see the goddess as nothing more than a powerful foe to conquer.

He would likely attempt to engage her in combat, testing her speed and strength, eager to see if her claims are true. Even if he cannot defeat her physically, he would see this as a challenge to rise above.

"I will rule, goddess, whether over you or this island. One way or another, you will bow to me." His pride would push him to find a way to overpower her, or at least exploit her powers to further his goals of conquest.

Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf

Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf, hardened by years of darkness and manipulation, would approach this situation with a cold, calculating demeanor. The goddess’ claim of invulnerability wouldn’t intimidate him; rather, it would intrigue him. He’s always thinking several steps ahead, and while he might initially be frustrated at being trapped, he would quickly adapt.

Reaction: "You cannot die, you say?" His voice would be calm, laced with curiosity. He wouldn’t be quick to anger, instead focusing on what he could gain from the situation.

Unlike some of his other counterparts, this version of Ganondorf might see the goddess as a potential ally or tool. He would try to charm her, playing the role of the doting "husband" while secretly looking for a way to either control her power or escape. He would flatter her, but every compliment would be calculated.

"Very well, goddess. I will play the part of your beloved. But do not think for a moment that I have forgotten my own ambitions." He would make his intentions clear, even while smiling sweetly.

Demise

Demise, the ancient precursor to Ganondorf, is pure wrath and darkness incarnate. The idea of being trapped by a goddess who claims him as her "husband" would fill him with rage. He is a being of overwhelming power, and the idea of being bound by anything—let alone a goddess—would not sit well with him at all.

Reaction: "You think yourself above me, goddess?" His voice would be a deep, thunderous growl. He would not hesitate to attack her, his primal rage driving him to test her claims of invulnerability immediately.

When his attacks prove futile, he would not give up easily. Demise does not fear failure, and he would likely continue trying to overwhelm the goddess with sheer brute force, testing the limits of her power.

"You may be invulnerable, but you will break eventually. All things do." His fury would be relentless, and even if he cannot kill her, he would never stop trying to assert his dominance.

Over time, if forced to play the role of her "husband," he would grow even more resentful, always looking for a way to turn the tables and regain control.

In every scenario, the Ganondorfs and Demise would feel intense frustration at being trapped, but their reactions would vary from calculated manipulation to outright aggression. Whether by charm, cunning, or force, they would all seek to regain control of the situation, unwilling to accept the goddess’ claim over them. The goddess may be invulnerable, but their ambition and desire for power would drive them to find a way to either escape or overpower her.

[sotangledupinit]

running home to your sweet nothings

PROMPT: Enchanted Forest AU

SUMMARY: His informality is refreshing; like water in a desert, Emma is parched and desperate for more. “Take note, Princess, that I take no pleasure in pointing out the susceptibilities of your security or skills. It is my loyalty to you that wants you to remain safe.” There’s an earnestness to his voice and Emma feels her cheeks heat. His breath fans against her face in soft puffs as he speaks and the corner of his mouth lifts in a small smile. “What have I done to earn such loyalty other than wear a crown?” she asks in an equally quiet voice. She’s breathless as she speaks but she yearns for his unfiltered response. // or the four gifts of killian jones

RATING: Mature on AO3, Teen on Tumblr.

WORD COUNT: Over 16k words. (16,932 on AO3)

AO3

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Please note that the tumblr version of this story as seen below has been edited to be a T rating. If you want the M version, please click the AO3 link above.

Chapter 1 of 2

*

six and ten. spring.

The castle walls suffocate her. They act as a constant reminder that despite her position — Princess Emma Margaret Nolan of Misthaven — she is trapped. Guards follow her every move; every breath she takes, each time she blinks, and even the side of the mouth she chews her food on are all reported back to her parents. Her clothes are picked out for her, her day is scheduled to the second, and she isn’t allowed to venture outside of their grounds.

She understood, albeit begrudgingly, when she was a child. Regina had been a massive threat for most of her life. Fireballs scorched castle hallways for years, the Evil Queen’s magic able to break through the protection barriers only momentarily every once in a while. Out of an abundance of caution, Emma was confined to a singular wing of the castle grounds, limiting her already strained freedom. Worry lined her parents' faces whenever she saw them, and a great relief escaped their lungs whenever they saw her alive and breathing before them. They told her of Regina’s threats, of her power, of her determination and thirst for revenge.

So she understood the fear that took hold of their hearts for so many years.

But she’s sixteen now and Regina’s been dead for four months already. She needs freedom. She needs to spread her wings like her mother’s birds and explore their kingdom beyond the castle walls. Meet their people, understand their lives. Instead, her requests to her parents are met with firm denials as they say that the land is still unsettled and they haven’t determined all of Regina’s followers yet. They fear one of them might make a martyr of Regina and start an uprising of their own. And so she goes back to her days cataloged to the minute and her guards counting the steps she takes on one foot versus the other.

Five months post-Regina, Emma sees an opportunity.

The Duke of Atlantica is visiting and Emma, having been excused for the evening, finds herself in her room with minimal security outside and a lone guard sweeping the perimeter under her window every twelve minutes. She guesses everyone else is too busy protecting her parents and the Duke.

She puts on her riding trousers, a loose top, and a scarf around her hair and face. A glance outside tells her the drop from her windowsill to the courtyard below is a bit higher than she anticipated and her magic is still too unsteady to be guaranteed to work if she needed it to stop her fall. Instead she grabs bedsheets, dressing gowns, and a curtain and knots them together sloppily, tossing the bundle over the sill to billow in the breeze below. She tugs hard on her contraption and once satisfied, descends.

When she was young, less than half her age now, her parents and her would play a game. It was their way of tempering her restlessness and her thirst for adventure. The castle grounds by her wing of the castle quickly became her playground. They would take turns hiding while one of them sought the others. Her father would proudly proclaim their family motto whenever he finished counting.

I will always find you!

One such game led to Emma hiding amongst the buttercups she planted the spring before with Johanna. The flowers had started to climb up the stone walls enclosing the garden she played in and, as she ran her hand along the blocks, she noticed the area was rarely in sight of any of their guards or the towers. After the game, she’d searched out the area from her window and noticed a steep drop on the other side, a slope that ensured an inability to broach the castle walls.

But it didn’t stop anyone from leaving.

At first, she had a fear of the area. She questioned her parents about Regina being able to climb the wall and her parents had Blue cast protection charms over it to cease her nightmares.

But as she grew older and the restraint on her freedom grew tighter, Emma looked at the wall in a new light. Now, as she dashes across the castle gardens to where the buttercups grow wild and free, it is her salvation.

Emma’s eyes cast around for anything that could ruin her potential night of freedom but nothing seems amiss. The patrols have left the area and she has about four more minutes until they come back. Before she climbs the wall, she turns back towards her room and casts her hands out. Eyes squeezed shut, she whispers a spell to hide the evidence of her escape and glances up in time to see a glimmer across it. Releasing a deep sigh, she climbs the wall.

*

Her boots are muddy and Emma slides more than walks down the slope outside the wall. It’s steeper than she anticipated and the recent rain has left it hard to keep her balance. She’s not sure how she’ll go about getting back over the side but she supposes it’s an issue to figure out on her return.

Specks of mud have kicked up from her boots and onto her trousers and she winces at the sight. She knows she’ll have to hide them from the staff until her next riding lesson to ensure no one asks any questions. A lie will have to be prepared, ready to be said on the tip of her tongue, if anyone should ask about her whereabouts tonight. She knows she’ll have to practice it on the way back. But now she approaches the nearest village to the castle and lanterns are lit outside of the dwellings and there’s an orange glow cast around the streets like sunset had found a permanent home right there.

Boisterous laughter rings out of a nearby tavern’s open window and she hears the chittering of women in the building beside it. She can barely see it but further down the street, there’s a boy and a father at the docks putting on an act for bystanders and an upturned hat at their feet holding a few silver pieces.

There is so much life and joy in the village and Emma wants to explore every inch of it. She stays on the outskirts at first, observing with a thrill of excitement as she tries to decide where she will explore first. The scarf had slid down her face during her hike from the castle wall and she hasn’t bothered to fix it as the different aromas from the village assaulted her nose. She breathes it in and decides her first place will be the inn where a most delicious smell seems to come from its dining hall.

A destination in mind and determination settling in her shoulders, she barely lifts a foot to step forward when one arm wraps around her middle from behind and another comes up to her throat, the shine of silver glaring in her eyes for a moment before she feels the cool metal of a knife against her throat.

“Shhh, love. Don’t scream.”

The voice that speaks in her ear is accented from a place far from Misthaven. It’s the first thing she notices before her fight instincts kick in and she wiggles in her captor’s grip. Her efforts are futile as she can’t free her arms from where he’s trapped them at her sides and the knife follows her throat with each moment.

“Let go of me,” she demands through gritted teeth, her words coming out stronger than she feels. “Do you know who I am?!”

“Aye,” the voice continues and then he lets go only to grab one of her wrists and spin her to face him. “That’s why I’m disappointed it was so easy to grab you.”

Shock doesn’t begin to describe how she feels when she faces her assailant.

He’s young, probably her age if not a year or two older. His hair is dark and disheveled and his piercing blue eyes meet her gaze. He sheathes the knife he had pressed to her throat just moments ago and sighs. The urge to run away – back to the safety of the castle, away from the troubles her parents always feared for her – pulls at her muscles yet her feet remain rooted to the ground. She holds the boy’s stare, only a little comforted by the fact the knife now rests safely against his thigh.

He glances around quickly before he tugs on her arm and brings her to the side of the building, out of the lantern lights and under the alcove hanging from the local blacksmith shop.

“With the tools and talents at your disposal, Princess, I had hoped you’d be on your guard better. Especially considering you’re wandering around alone. Are you even aware there’s still people who sympathize with Regina that live in the kingdom?!”

The tone of his voice reminds her of a reprimand she’d get from her parents and her nose scrunches up in annoyance. Who is he to be lecturing her? He was the one who grabbed and threatened the Princess of Misthaven with a knife to her throat. She opens her mouth and says as much. Every bit of moodiness she feels as a trapped woman just sixteen years of age bleeds into each word she speaks to him. It builds stronger as he stands there looking bored.

His answer, though, comes through a heated whisper as he steps closer to her in the darkness. She notices the way his eyes scan their surroundings and realizes he’s been keeping watch even as he points out her glaring mistakes. “I’m the one who could have killed the Princess of Misthaven because she’s too bloody foolish to pay attention and be on guard when she sneaks out.”

“Perhaps you’re the foolish one for attempting such a thing when I could have your head on a stake by morning’s light.”

“If it means the Princess learns to take better care of herself on her future adventures then it will have been a thankless action well done.”

Emma glares even as she tugs her wrist free of his loose hold. “How do you know I snuck out anyway? I could have a number of guards waiting to grab you on my signal.”

He snorts and rolls his eyes and the action looks so good on him that it infuriates her. He is nothing but a young man who thought himself a know-it-all. What she’d do to wipe the smug expression off of his face.

“You’re not exactly hiding, Princess. You’re like a swan swimming amongst ducks. I spotted you the moment you entered the edge of the village and there’s not been a single movement in the trees behind you nor a rustle of chain link in the air.”

The you’re alone is unspoken yet it rings as loudly in her ears as if he’d yelled it. Despite his sheathing of the knife, the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and she checks her surroundings from the corner of her eye. She hates realizing she was unaware of the vulnerable position she’s placed herself in until he so unceremoniously pointed it out and the thought makes her nervous. Had she really let her guard down so much that a stranger could come up on her and do this?

Foolish, indeed.

Her eyes give him a once-over, taking in his ragged clothes and the dirt on his handsome face. His fingers are red and he stands tall with a straight set of his shoulders. The knife at his side is low enough that Emma guesses she could nick it off of him and have herself with a means of protection should his intentions differ from his words, but that only remains the issue of how to get closer to him.

She imagines the blood vessels in her father’s forehead straining at the thought of her within a foot of a male her age. Unsupervised at that. Her mother would find the situation hilarious and provide her tips for the future. Similar to how I met your father, she’d say in amusement. Nevertheless, it is all with a plan in mind.

Clearing her throat, she holds her head high like her mother taught her and meets his gaze.

“I thank you for your service to, and protection of, the Royal Family of Misthaven, no matter how unconventional your means are.” He cocks an eyebrow, amusement dancing along his features. She swallows hard as she steps closer and extends one hand to him. The smirk remains on his face as he takes her hand in his calloused one and bends to place a kiss upon her knuckles.

“If you think you can take my knife, Princess,” the mystery boy begins, his lips brushing her skin with every word. It takes her breath away and she forgets to inhale. Mirthful blue eyes meet hers from under the cover of his eyelashes and she’s mesmerized. Few in the realm hold magic. Most users, like Regina and her mother Cora, learn through difficult training that involves more blood and soul than most are willing to give up. Very rare others, like Emma, find their power from being the product of True Love. As far as she knows, she’s been the only one for the last two centuries.

But as this boy – no, young man – stares up at her from where he is bent at the waist, she swears he must have magic. For there is no other reason that she would be so entranced by his gaze and the sound of his voice. It takes her a moment to realize that he continued speaking.

“… then you will be sorely disappointed.”

Her eyebrows pinch together as she stares at him in confusion. It’s not until he presses a gentle kiss, finally, to her knuckles and then stands while holding his sheathed knife in his other hand that she understands he was onto her ruse. She rips her hand from him and steps back despite the way he doesn’t move to hurt her.

“You must think yourself so clever.”

“Well, I’d rather hope I am. Otherwise the rather great army that Misthaven boasts about over-promises and underdelivers. Especially in matters pertaining to the skillset of their princess.”

Emma huffs but says nothing as he’s clearly shown her up on more than one occasion in their brief meeting. Instead, she inquires about his identity. “May I at least know the name of the person who takes such glee in pointing out our weak spots?”

He steps closer, the sheath held tightly in his palm rather than the knife’s handle. Voice dropping to a whisper, he dips his head as he addresses her. Everything about his posture and his proximity goes against the expectations of the court but she finds a thrill in it. Nothing about her interaction with him has been anything like her usual meetings with advisors and other royals. Stiff greetings and full addresses are nowhere to be found. When he addresses her as Princess, his tongue forms the word as if it’s a nickname rather than her royal title and it sends a shock of excitement down her spine.

His informality is refreshing; like water in a desert, Emma is parched and desperate for more.

“Take note, Princess, that I take no pleasure in pointing out the susceptibilities of your security or skills. It is my loyalty to you that wants you to remain safe.” There’s an earnestness to his voice and Emma feels her cheeks heat. His breath fans against her face in soft puffs as he speaks and the corner of his mouth lifts in a small smile.

“What have I done to earn such loyalty other than wear a crown?” she asks in an equally quiet voice. She’s breathless as she speaks but she yearns for his unfiltered response.

“Your heart,” he says as he takes another step forward. His toes touch hers and she prays he can’t hear the way her heart beats against her chest like she can hear its echo in her eardrums. “It is pure and light and, like your parents, you chose to see the best in people. Even if they don’t have the best of intentions towards you.”

He licks his lips as he looks at her. Not as the princess, not as a trophy to be won. But as if she were just another girl at the market. No, not just another girl. Like a girl who stole his attention and he has no thought but for her. It leaves her gobsmacked and a part of her wishes he would kiss her, be her first. But she’s not sure how many more lines she can cross tonight.

“What is your name?” Her question breaks his gaze from her mouth and it quickly darts up to meet hers. He scratches at the back of his head, just behind his ear, and she finds the action endearing. For all his suave moves and confidence, he is an awkward adolescent just like her.

The answer that laid on the tip of his tongue is stopped by an approaching voice.

“Killian?” the voice calls out, a deeper, more mature male voice with a similar accent to the mystery man’s.

“Bloody hell,” the figure before her murmurs with his head turned towards the alleyway. She assumes it is safe to assign the name to her companion this evening. As the other voice calls his name again, Killian turns towards her and adjusts her scarf over her hair and face before she can even blink, successfully concealing her identity for the time being.

Right as his fingers curl the cloth around the shell of her ear, the other figure emerges from the darkness.

“Bloody hell, Killian. I’d been calling your name for…”

The voice trails off as the person takes in the fact Killian isn’t alone.

“My apologies, Miss…”

The first thing that comes to mind is Killian’s earlier statement, the odd comparison he’d made, and so she blurts out before he can, “Miss Swan.”

“Evening, Miss Swan,” the gentleman says as he steps closer to the sole lantern light on the side of the building. He has a sharp jawline reminiscent of Killian’s with matching blue eyes. His hair curls close to his head and Emma notices he wears the uniform of her family’s navy. “Lieutenant Liam Jones. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, despite the late hour,” he says. The end of Liam’s statement is directed towards Killian in a way that reminds her of the subtle way her parents reprimand her when in company.

He takes her hand in his and bows as he bestows a kiss on it. It’s routine and perfunctory and so different from the one Killian had placed in that very spot moments prior. She only hopes that the turn of her head is enough to keep him from recognizing the uncovered parts of her face.

“Aye, apologies, brother,” Killian starts. He steps in front of Emma just slightly and she feels tension in her shoulders she hadn’t realized were built begin to release at his actions. “She’s a new servant for the royal family. It’s her first night away from the castle and she seems to have gotten lost. I was just escorting her back to her quarters.” Emma peers just slightly over his shoulder to see his brother’s narrow-eyed gaze fixed on Killian in contemplation. She wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t believe him.

“Let’s be on our way then, little brother. It is late.”

Liam looks at them expectantly and Emma barely pays attention to the mutterings of Killian's 'younger brother’ as blood pounds in her ears. This spells disaster.

Killian, it seems at least, would go along with her charade, not turn her into her parents and let her be on her way. Perhaps he’d have escorted her back but standard practices don’t exactly seem his way of life. Liam, on the other hand, exudes the essence of the perfect soldier. Straight back, formal introductions, and following the expectations of the court to the line. If he finds out who she is, Emma will never be able to escape again. Her father will have her under lock and key and her mother…

She’s not sure what her mother would do.

Being at the center of Regina’s turn to evil never rested easily on her mother’s shoulders. The ten-year-old little girl inside of her carried the guilt of a kingdom despite never truly doing anything wrong. Regina’s misplaced anger resulted in the suffering and death of far too many. It wasn’t an experience her mother took lightly. Emma’s heart breaks at what would become of her mother finding out about her activity.

But she knows of her mother’s own thirst for adventure, of the trials and tribulations that she faced when forced to fend for herself during Regina’s reign. The same kind of living that led to her meeting her True Love.

Emma’s True Love isn’t Killian; she’s positive of that from the way he grates on her nerves and his infuriating confident swagger. Snow, though, doesn’t need to know that – especially if it permits her more time away from the castle.

She shares a glance with Killian and he reads the short expression on her face like he spent all day in the library pouring over his favorite book and he immediately steps in to intercept his brother.

“I hardly think that both of us going is necessary. It’s just a short walk up to the castle grounds.”

Disapproval radiates from Liam in waves as he glares down at his younger brother. The minute shift in Killian’s stance would have been unnoticeable if she weren’t nearly pressed against his back.

“It would be improper to allow you to escort Miss Swan back to her quarters unattended.” Liam’s reply is only thinly veiled in a polite tone.

The trio trek in silence, dew from the grass wetting her already muddy trousers. She sticks close to Killian’s side and keeps as far away from Liam’s gaze as possible. Whenever he turns back to check on them, she turns her head away, allowing the scarf to conceal her identity from the angle of her tilt.

“Will you find yourself in trouble when you return?” Emma whispers hastily to Killian, lifting the edges of her cloak as they come upon mud spots. Her trousers and boots are already going to be a pain to clean, the last thing she needs to do is add to her secret laundry list.

“As long as no one finds out about tonight, Miss Swan,” he says, emphasizing the fake name she gave his brother. She levels a glare at the amusement that seeps into his words before he grows more serious. “Then both of us will be free of trouble. Let’s keep it that way.”

She huffs, turning her gaze onto the pathway leading to the servants quarters. Rarely does she ever find herself in that portion of the castle, but she’s thankful that her lockdown for the last sixteen years meant she had the chance to explore it more than once. The only trouble she’ll face is bypassing any servants that may see her.

Liam coughs as they happen upon the entrance, turning to Killian and Emma expectantly. “Goodnight, Miss Swan.”

Emma panics for a moment, glancing at Killian before she curtsies to Liam. The action feels strange in front of a party other than her parents or fellow royals but she hopes he’ll blame any clumsiness on a supposed shy servant unused to such attention. “Thank you, Lieutenant Jones,” she begins, turning to Killian next and curtseying again, glaring as she comes to a stand when she spots the quirked corner of his mouth. “Mister Jones.”

Killian turns to his brother and raises his eyebrows expectantly only for Liam to shake his head. But Killian persists. Emma acts as a spectator to the silent conversation between the brothers, confusion clouding her thoughts until Liam sighs heavily and turns slightly to the side, gaze away from the two of them. Killian waits a moment, staring at his brother’s back, before he moves.

He steps closer to her until his toes touch hers. Bending slightly, his face is a breath away from hers and her eyes widen. Killian has been the only boy - no, man - brave enough to get so close to her and her breath catches for a moment until he stands straight again, the knife from his thigh in his hand. He uses his free hand to lift one of hers until it rests on the scabbard. He curls her fingers around the knife and pushes it towards her.

“Learn to use it. You better be the one to surprise me next time.” He smirks, dipping his head for a moment to press a searing kiss to her knuckles before he steps back and speaks at a volume that allows Liam to hear. “Have a good night, Miss Swan.”

Emma’s eyes bounce to Liam’s imposing figure briefly before she locks her gaze with Killian. Despite how infuriating their encounter has been, it’s one she’s grateful for. She thanks him, her words quiet but no less genuine, and hopes he understands how deep they ring before she hastily curtseys once more, hurrying into the servants door and counting her blessings that it is empty for the moment.

As silent as she keeps her footsteps, she’s sure anyone within a ten-foot radius would be able to hear her racing heart.

- - -

nine and ten. summer.

Sweat trickles down her back down a familiar path created over the last hour. Hair pulled back in a high bun, the bangs that usually frame her face are plastered to her forehead as perspiration drips from her hairline. It pours from her in areas she didn’t know it could come from. Her breathing is hard and she feels uncomfortably hot in her disguised clothing.

The heat, she figures, is a combination of the unbearable humid summer night that waits outside the walls of the blacksmith’s shop and the roaring fire in the back of the room.

“Again!” Killian yells out to her, bringing his body into a starting fighting stance. He’s moved aside the tables he works at during the day and created a small area in the middle of the blacksmith’s shop for them to spar.

After that fateful spring night, Emma hadn’t seen Killian for three years. Managing to get her father to agree on a joint royal visit to the village had taken weeks and, where her past self would have been overjoyed at the ability to go beyond the castle grounds, her mind only drifted to seeing Killian.

He, though, was not in the village that day, nor on the other nights she snuck from her tower room. Life picked up after that, royal engagements and duties begun to pile upon her shoulders with great weight and a part of her missed the solitude from Regina’s torment. Her ventures to the village that were numerous at the start trickled down to once every few months as Emma found herself sitting in appointments and teachings with her parents. It wasn’t until she let her guard down during another spring festival, watching from afar yet again, that he managed to sneak up behind her.

He’d been disappointed at the fact it was so easy to do once more, and merely rolled his eyes when she told him she’d been practicing.

Her tutors weren’t suitable for the kind of fighting and defense she needed, he preached. Her tutors were the best of the best, she cried back at him in exasperation, they were teaching her well. It was a stance she held until he asked her to spar and had her on her back in twenty seconds.

“Propriety of the fight has no place when someone wants to kill you,” Killian said at the time. “On the battlefield, soldiers are fighting soldiers. They will follow similar rules of war. But for you, Princess, they will fight to harm you, to murder you. There are no rules at that point.” She remembers how he swiftly danced out of her range, using the objects within the shop to his advantage until he fought her to the ground again. “Listening to your tutors will get you killed.”

“So teach me,” she challenged through gritted teeth from where she laid on her back. She still remembers the way he contemplated the idea before he accepted.

Three months later and she’s yet to win a fight against him.

Her feet turn her body in a smooth spin on the sand of the shop and their swords clang loudly in the otherwise silent night. The shutters are closed, for they both know they can’t risk someone peeking in and seeing the princess in a sword fight, so the fire provides their only light. It glows against his tan skin like a sunset and she blinks in rapid succession as she feels vibrations from her sword down to her elbow.

Boots shuffling on the floor, she desperately tries to overpower him or dislodge his weapon from her own, to no avail. It is only as she is managing to move his sword above her head that he pulls from her and she sighs, yelping just a moment later as he smacks the flat of the blade against her backside.

“Hey!” she calls out, hand instinctively reaching behind her to rub at the sting. “You truly are a pain in my ass, you understand that, right?”

He smirks. “It is my duty as your friend to keep you humble under the weight of that crown. We simply cannot have you getting too comfortable.”

Emma shakes her head to hide her grin at his words. Friend. She doesn’t think she’s had one of those before. Most of the people she associates with have a large age difference between them and what interests her doesn’t typically interest them. She’s interacted with other royals her age but most of the encounters were awkward and stifling.

With Killian, things are easy. Awkward moments are few and far between, and he doesn’t tiptoe around her feelings. He is honest, if a bit too blunt, and open about what he thinks. There is no stuffy protocol or ‘Yes, Princess,’ ‘Of course, Princess,’ with him. In fact, she swears that he gets more enjoyment out of denying her almost anything she requests. So confident in that idea, she’d bet her crown on it.

Her arms feel heavy as she lifts them to her starting stance once more, without Killian needing to ask. “I’m ready,” she says through her labored breathing.

“Think you can handle it, Princess?” he taunts, that infuriating smirk glowing on his face.

“Please,” she scoffs, “you’re the one who can’t handle it.” She adjusts her weight and nods to him. “Let’s go.”

Their swords clash again, the ringing of metal meeting metal echoing in the blacksmith’s shop. While Emma is soaked in her own perspiration, she can only spot a few lines of sweat trailing down the side of his neck and small beads along his hairline. There’s a sluggishness to his moves, an effect of the two hours of training they’ve exhausted themselves with tonight, but her moves are far worse. She feels the delay in her response and the way she doesn’t see his sword come towards her.

She belated raises her own to stop him and the rattling is enough to spring the sword from her grip. Killian attempts to stop the unexpected downswing of his sword from the loss of hers, but it isn’t enough. The tip of his blade swipes across her open palm and blood immediately comes to the surface.

“Fuck,” he mumbles.

Emma merely stares at her hand in shock, the stinging sensation faint noise in the back of her mind.

She doesn’t remember the last time she bled this much from an injury. Perhaps it was when she was six and she fell from the tree in the palace gardens, stockings stained red. Maybe it was when she was eight and poked herself with a quill. It could have been from the split lip she got when she was eleven while fighting a stable boy when he wouldn’t leave a maid alone. One thing she is certain of is that most cuts and bruises healed incredibly fast once her full powers came in at twelve.

Cuts barely bled and what should have been black and blue bruises remained a light pink.

In the time since Regina, she’s barely had any instances to result in such an injury. The sight is mesmerizing, even if its implications are terrifying, and she barely registers the way Killian stands in front of her, readying a bandage, until a harsh and sudden sting, not from the initial sword swipe, causes a hiss to snake through her clenched teeth.

"What the hell is that?!” she whispers hotly as the liquid from his flask runs over her cut. She tries to pull her hand away but he won’t let her. All she succeeds with is getting pulled closer to him.

“Rum,” he mutters, eyeing the cut. “A bloody waste of it, too.”

The response that sits on her tongue never makes it past her lips as she watches the way Killian wraps a cloth around the palm of her hand, concentration on her injury. When he finishes, he holds the cloth in place with one hand, grabs an end of the material with his other hand and grabs the other end of the cloth with his teeth. He pulls, gently but enough to tighten the makeshift bandage around her hand.

She’s positively captivated by the way he looks so tempting in the glow of the fireplace. Scruff is finally coming in thick sections across his jaw, teeth a perfectly white shine that could make the stars jealous. And his eyes… Perhaps it is the firelight that makes it so, or it is the way he looks up at her from beneath his eyelashes with the end of the cloth between his teeth, but Emma’s never seen a sight so alluring.

“Now,” he says, voice low. Her head tilts closer to his, afraid to lose his words to the deafening silence of the night. “Hopefully those damned tutors gave you some proper first-aid lessons. Nothing like the sad excuses for combat training they’ve given you.”

“My mom taught me first-aid,” she whispers back. She takes pleasure from the way he looks up at her in surprise and slight embarrassment.

“Then you were in good hands, indeed.”

“Not as good as these ones, though, I suppose.”

Her breath hitches in her throat as she registers what she’s said. Wide green eyes stare at his ocean blue ones, the flirty tone of her words sinking in for them both. She swallows hard at nearly the same time he does and her heartbeat quickens under his attention.

“Is that so, Swan?”

She licks her lips, suddenly dry in the heat of the night, and feels her body grow hot as his eyes follow the movement of her tongue. Panic rises within her as she becomes keenly aware of her inexperience.

It doesn’t come due to thinking he’d judge her for it. No, she worries she could do something wrong or embarrass herself further and she cannot have that. Her ego can only take so many hits in a single night, most of which already occurred in their impromptu sparring circle.

Words come from her throat in response though she barely thinks before she speaks.

“Are you ever going to tell me where you were for the last three years?” she asks in a hurry. “You were here and then you disappeared.”

He clears his throat at that, drops her hand, and steps back. She feels cold without him near but there’s a comfort in the fact that static still dances in the air between them. The heat has gone from searing to simmering though she knows that it can turn up again with a single look. It’s happened to them in the past when their sparring has gotten them particularly close or in damning positions.

The answer rests on the tip of his tongue yet he remains hesitant to say it. He struts to the fire on the far side of the room and rests one arm above it, leaning towards the heat. Only when she opens her mouth to prompt him again does he speak.

“I’ve been in training at the naval academy,” he says. She suddenly feels like she cannot breathe, for a different reason entirely. “I was promoted to Lieutenant and assigned to my brother’s ship eight months ago and we’ve been away on a mission until this spring.”

“W-Why?” she stutters.

“That’s need-to-know infor –”

“Cut the bullshit, Killian,” Emma says. She feels anger rising in her chest and stares at him from her spot in the shop, hands clenching and unclenching while her breath quickens. “Why’d you join?”

“Why shouldn’t I have?”

“You could get killed, for starters!”

How could he value his life so little that he’d thrown himself into danger? He made a name for himself, if the villagers were to be believed, as the blacksmith’s apprentice and could have easier taken over so the old man could take a step back. If he didn’t want to do that, Emma would’ve found a place to put his skills to use within the castle.

His eyes shoot up to meet hers in a quick fury, the flames dancing beside him in a matching rage. The clench of his jaw is the only other sign she gets that he’s trying to keep his temper in check. “There are still rebel groups scattered throughout the Enchanted Forest who are loyal to Regina and –”

She glares, face hardening. “And what? You’re going to eliminate the few scattered remnants singlehandedly with your superior swordsmanship?”

Killian takes a step closer, leaving a large gap between them still, and curls his fingers into a tight fist. “Few scattered remnants,” he mocks, voice pinching up as he does so. He shakes his head. “Regina reigned for over two decades, and she tried to kill you for nearly all your life! Nearly forty years of hatred doesn’t disappear in a few years, love. Don’t be naive.”

Tears burn at the back of her eyes but she refuses to let them gather and fall. “Don’t patronize me,” she grits out.

“You need to understand what’s really going on out there. This isn’t a game; it’s not sneaking out to play with swords. Real people are putting their lives on the line for you and your family.”

Indignation keeps her tears from falling. “You think I don’t know that?”

“Then start acting like you do!” he cuts to her, temper rising and anger barely under control. “Regina may not be here but the threat is still real!”

“But why did you have to join when we have armies already doing this work!”

“Why is it such an issue for you now? You haven’t cared about it in the past. This is something that’s always been done for the crown.”

“Of course I’ve cared!”

“Not like this.”

“Because none of them were you!”

The dead silence of the night invades the shop. Blood pounds in her ears as they stare each other down and she can see the way his chest heaves the same way hers does from their heavy breaths. The string connecting them is pulled taunt until Emma feels a shock travels across it, the two of them immediately jumping into action and marching towards each other.

Their mouths meet in a messy kiss, all clanging teeth, bruised lips, and fighting tongues. Her sword clatters to the ground around the same time his fingers thread through her hair. She completely surrenders herself to him and feels her body melt in his hold, his arm around her waist being the only thing holding her up. Her skin tingles under his attentions, a full-body shiver shaking her spine when his mouth descends onto her neck.

It reminds her of when she had magic.

The humid night air outside is nothing compared to what is boiling within the blacksmith’s shop.

She swears that when their passion cools from its rush and they exchange a short, soft kiss, the softest of the night, a spark of magic emits from her fingertips. The tingling sensation beneath her skin paired with the overwhelming warmth is the exact feeling she’d get right before performing magic. But Killian doesn’t yelp or flinch or react at all to anything other than their kiss.

Must have been a trick of her imagination.

Later, as they almost finish readying to leave for Emma needs to return back to the castle before the quickly approaching daylight beats her to it, he says, hesitantly, “This cannot happen again, love.” Her head shoots up from tying her cloak around her neck and he quickly amends his wording. “I – I don’t regret a moment. Trust me,” he adds with a grin that has her blushing. “But… this is not feasible. We cannot, Princess.”

It's a proclamation and a resignation in one. A reminder, too, of what exactly their roles are in the social hierarchy.

“My father was a shepherd,” she points out.

“Who was able to masquerade as a king before marrying your mother.” He raises an eyebrow at her and she’s never hated it so much before. Despite their two years age difference, the way he looks at her now makes her feel like a child and he the responsible adult.

As much as it was brought up in their past meetings, especially their first, the realization of their different lives and expectations never sunk in until then. While not outright forbidden, their friendship is taboo. At least to the eyes of the kingdom.

He is right that her father took on the role of prince from his deceased twin brother and no one was the wiser. The truth trickled out from the very start and once her parents took the throne back from Regina, it became Misthaven’s worst kept secret. In truth, half of their people believe it to be just a story, a little detail added to romantic love story of Snow White and Prince Charming to make it grander, more epic, truer.

Funnily enough, the people also seem to forget that nearly all of the council are regular folks just like themselves, Blue being the exception. Red, the dwarves, Geppetto – they were all just regular people who helped her mother when she had no kingdom, no throne, no knights. They continued to help her parents when they needed it, no expectation of being rewarded.

But things were different now. The kingdom had lived in fear and uncertainty for Regina’s return for sixteen years and only now is gaining a sense of security again after all the turmoil.

She knows what her people expect of her – to marry a man of noble standing from a foreign kingdom to help strengthen Misthaven’s armies, grow relations with allies, expand borders, and produce an heir. It is an expectation of any heir in order to help their kingdom thrive. While Killian doesn’t look at her like that’s what he sees in her future, it’s clear he anticipates it as a way of life and refuses to get his own hopes up. He’s lived in other kingdoms before he and his brother settled in hers; he’s seen the expectations and routine of royalty elsewhere. All he has to go off of is his own knowledge.

Emma isn’t sure what makes her say it but she finishes knotting her cloak and lets her words land heavily in the silent room.

“My parents want me to marry for love, no matter who it is or what they can or cannot provide for the kingdom.” She chances a glance up at him. “They know the sacrifice that comes with the crown, the sacrifices they have made over and over again through the years, and this is one that they will not have me make.”

Killian gulps and stares at her.

Clearing her throat, Emma nods her head at him. “You going to escort me back to the castle or am I roughing it alone?”

He shakes his head and gives her a wry smile. “At your service, Princess.”

She catches what he doesn’t say, what he means both in front of and behind the veil of his words. She waits until his face is turned away from hers, focused on lacing his boots, and asks, “When do you ship out?”

His fingers still their movements before resuming the action like she never spoke. “One week’s time.”

“Oh.”

The last three years without him were fine. She stopped looking for his dark hair around every corner in the village after the first month and she didn’t dare ask any of the townspeople about him directly, lest word get around that the young princess had a crush on the blacksmith’s apprentice. She even stopped coming up with excuses to drop in on her father’s meetings with the blacksmith himself, Atticus Brown, when they discussed new armory for their soldiers. He quickly faded to a thought that crossed her mind only once in a blue moon.

Then she spotted him in the market three months ago and their eyes connected like they were drawn to each other. She snuck out that night in hopes that he would find her again and walk her back to the castle. His ability to come up on her without recognition or fast enough retaliation led to her baiting him into teaching her how to truly fight – how to fight for one’s life.

And now it is at its to end and she’s not sure how she’ll make it through this absence. They’ve become friends now, albeit friends that, as of minutes ago, do more than friends normally do, but friends nonetheless. His presence has become a constant in her life and she can already feel the aching void he will leave on shore.

She sucks in a breath, unsure if she wants to actually know the answer, and quietly asks, “What’s going on out there?”

Killian scratches behind his ear as he diverts his attention back to the fire momentarily. He doesn’t want to let her in on the dark dealings he has faced, that much is clear to her, but she cannot be left unaware any longer.

Her inexperience is no excuse. She’s going to be a queen one day – she needs to be in tune with her people, their wants and needs, their worries and fears. Counselors and her parents can only keep her in the dark for so long. To succeed when she takes the throne, she cannot be left floundering for information because they’d been too scared or nervous to give it to her.

“The dissenters are getting desperate but it also makes them crafty. They’re taking on guerilla war tactics and picking off troops slowly until they are all gone. Right now they’re focusing on military camps and ships.”

“But…” she starts, eyeing him considerably. “You’re worried they’re going to go after merchants and civilians next, aren’t you?”

He shrugs, waving one hand away before it rubs at his mouth, his other resting on his hip. “I… I think I am the only one worried of such a thing but I know these types of people and there is only so long they can be held at bay with just this. They’ll keep pushing until they succeed, no matter the cost.”

“Shit.”

Killian’s sudden, booming laugh startles them both and Emma can’t help but fall into a fit of giggles. She quickly slaps a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound but the moment she thinks it’s passed, a suppressed giggle leaves her shoulders shaking. Killian laughs quietly with her but he holds a soft look in his eyes, one that she can’t decipher the meaning of but she knows is the same as the look she gives him.

When they’ve finally calmed down a few minutes later, they both confirm they have what they need and begin their departure. Or, so she thought they would.

“Wait,” Killian starts. She turns away from the door and to him, words teetering on the tip of his tongue. He settles on just two. “Take this.” He extends his arm and Emma gasps.

“You’re not serious,” she whispers as she admires the handle of the blade she’s been using for the last few months. It’s one she recognizes, one that he’d been working on for his personal collection for the first month after they reconnected as he waited for her to come for their training sessions. She’s watched him a few times when he asked for a few extra minutes before they began and the proud smile once it was finished, his insistence that she try it out. It quick became her favorite and she repeatedly selected it to use in training.

The way Killian works with the weapons and metals in the blacksmith’s shop is how she imagines some people might admire her magic, had she still had any ability to use it. He works with an ease that makes his efforts look simple and he manipulates the heated metals in a way that leaves her speechless. On more than one occasion, her mouth has gone dry as she witnessed his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and sweat glistening on his skin.

In a way, it’s a shame that Killian’s joined their navy. He is a fine blacksmith and would have been an incredible successor to Atticus when he retires soon. None of the apprentices that he’s taken on since Killian’s left have been inspiring. But she knows, from her gut, that he’s an asset they cannot afford to lose in the navy. He’s on the fast track to captain, she’s sure.

Killian gives her a scabbard with a leather belt to sit around her waist. She struggles to get the sword in it at first, the angle awkward and the action unfamiliar.

“Here,” Killian says as he comes up behind her. Emma sucks in a breath and delights in the shiver that crawls down her back as he presses against it and takes hold of the wrist clutching her new sword. “Focus, love,” he teases. His lips brush against her neck as he speaks, deliberately so, and Emma whines. All talk of the fact they cannot have a repeat of earlier tonight is out of her mind until Killian clears his throat.

Words fill the air but she hears none of it. Instead, she concentrates on the feel of his skin against hers, the way his chest vibrates against her back as he talks, the smell of ash, sea water, and wood wax. She collects what little tidbits she can, even as he helps her practice sheathing her sword. For all she knows, this may be the last she has of it. Of him.

The thought brings tears to her eyes and she blinks them away, glad they are gone by the time she turns around to face him. “Ready, sailor?”

He grins and her heart flutters and its then that she realizes she’s in deep shit. “Aye.”

The inevitable freakout that comes from her startling realization is shelved until she’s alone in her room, away in her solitude. For now, she enjoys their walk back to her secret exit. They’ve done the route enough that they could make the trip with their eyes closed while walking backwards, but Killian remains vigilant and continuously scans the area for anything out of the ordinary.

The dawn’s early light is breaking over the hill beside the castle and Emma knows they only have precious few moments left. With that in mind, she breaks their comfortable silence.

“How did you recognize me? That first time?”

“You’re hard to miss. Like I said,” he teases, a grin tempting the corners of his mouth. “A swan amongst ducks.”

She gives him a wry grin. “That’s not an answer. Only a handful of people knew what I looked like then.”

Killian swallows audibly at being caught, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. They’ve moved close enough that she can feel the tensing of his knuckles against her own and a part of her longs to reach out and tangle their fingers together again. A blush works its way up her neck, warmth making her feel hotter than the humid air already has, as she thinks back to the first and last time they held hands earlier that night.

In all honesty, she didn’t know what she was going to say when she opened her mouth. Their first meeting certainly hadn’t been on her mind. But now that the question hangs over their heads, she has to know.

“I was there,” he says. Taking a deep breath, he focuses on his rings, fingers fiddling with the metal he probably crafted in the very shop they left. “That day, when you killed Regina.”

Her heart races. Blood pounds in her ears. The adrenaline rush she gets now is different from what she’s experienced before in his presence.

No.

No, this is panic. Fear. Anxiety. No one is supposed to know it was her doing that killed Regina. She can count on her fingers how many people do know, simply because it was unavoidable. So she does what she does best and hides her heart in a concrete vault, walls scaling higher than the castle tower they’re approaching.

She remembers the way her mother flinched back when the magic burst from her palms. How her father got caught in the crossfire and nearly died when her magic shot him across the room. What happened to Regina wasn’t what she intended. All she wanted was to stop her, protect her family from being hurt by her again.

Despite years of teaching and training, Emma’s magic was more powerful than anyone had seen in the realms before. The only one who came close to what she was capable of was the Dark One and he’d gone into hiding nearly two decades ago. With her incredible power came an incredible lack of control, no matter what she did or what Blue tried to teach her.

Little things she could do. Small spells that magical beings learn when they’re young. It was the stronger spells, the ones that required her to tap into more of her power, that gave her issue. The more power she needed, the less control she had. Her mind couldn’t find a focus, a singular thought, a strong enough pull to keep her centered.

She doesn’t remember much of the night Regina broke the magical barriers to the castle and attempted to murder her and her father in front of her mother. Attempts to recall the way in which Regina stole her from her bed and brought her to the highest tower of the castle result in a blank. How her and her father broke free of Regina’s magical holds is an unknown to her, one that her parents refuse to tell her.

But Regina’s murder – the way her own magic made her a monster… that she cannot forget.

The smell is what always comes to mind first. Burning flesh holds a rancid smell unlike any she’s experienced and incites her gag reflex. The sound is next. Regina’s gurgles as her blood boiled beneath her skin and her organs melted within her body makes Emma want to sob until she is dried of all her tears. Last is the vision. The sight of Regina crumpling in pain as Emma’s magic destroyed her body from the inside out, of the once evil queen begging and pleading for mercy while Emma’s magic wouldn’t let up.

For decades, her parents showed Regina mercy. They gave her chance after chance to prove herself, never wanting to sink to her level. And Emma ruined that in a single night, providing one of the most gruesome deaths in Misthaven’s history.

Emma avoids his gaze, eyes fixed on that very tower before them as she feels her good mood dissipate.

“If what you’re saying is true, shouldn’t you be afraid of me?”

Her tone doesn’t reach the joking lilt she is aiming for so she nervously laughs to cover it. Killian’s small glare at the side of her head tells her she is doing a miserable job.

“What was it you said before, Swan? Bullshit?”

A warning tone takes hold of her voice as she says, “Killian…”

“No one else knows,” he prefaces. “I didn’t tell a soul, I promise.” She turns and holds his gaze for a few moments and he lets her, completely unguarded and honest like he always is. A few of her newly constructed bricks fall. He waits for her nod before he continues.

“I had just finished a meeting with your father, Graham, and Atticus regarding upgraded protections for the troops. Graham and Atticus left a few minutes prior and your father offered to help me gather the materials we brought. One moment he was handing me a chest plate and the next, he disappeared in a cloud of purple and gray smoke. I knew something had happened, something bad, so I went looking.”

“Why didn’t you tell any guards?”

“There were none.” Killian eyes her curiously. “How much do you remember from that night?”

“Only what I wouldn’t wish on anyone.”

She remembers the aftermath even less. The incredible use of her magic left her asleep in bed for nearly three months as her body attempted to recover from the amount of power drawn that night. Physically, it helped her. Magically, however, is another story.

He stops her then, just outside of the wall on the hill that she uses for her escape. The jovial atmosphere that has come and gone throughout the night has completely disappeared. Killian’s hand gently gripping her elbow sears her skin, imprinting itself there forever, she hopes, and she is left stunned by the gravity of his gaze.

“Regina very nearly killed your entire family that night, love.”

The breath Emma sucks in is swift and sharp. A physical pain hits her chest at the thought.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever found out how she got through but when she did, she killed nearly the entire guard. The entire eastern side of the castle was decimated. By the time I made it to the tower where she took you and your family, she was holding your father’s heart in her hands and had a poisoned arrow held mid-flight, pointed straight for your heart.”

No matter how hard she tries, her mind cannot formulate the images he describes. It does bring to the forefront of her mind her mother’s screams as the events unfolded. She hears the echoes of her pleas for Regina to not do this. She feels the rattling in her chest from her mother’s earth-shaking sobs. The agony and helplessness that gripped her mother runs through her blood again and she feels the hot tingle of her magic beneath her skin despite nothing coming to the surface.

“So then you must have seen what I did to her,” Emma says. She meets his gaze head on, eyes welling with tears, and steadies her chin so it doesn’t tremble. “My magic made me a monster.”

“Your magic made you a hero.”

“I killed her. Slowly. Torturously. I listened to her beg for her life and I didn’t even feel sorry. That’s what a monster is.”

“I’m sorry, I must have missed the part where you did all of this as a grab for power or to quench your own bloodlust,” he shoot back at her, eyes narrow and frown etched upon his features.

“I went to her level, Killian.”

“Bollocks, Emma. Complete and utter bollocks.” Killian shakes his head as he begins a short pace back and forth, glancing at her every few steps. “I’ve heard a lot of asinine things in my life but never from you, until now.”

She takes a step back, hurt clear on her face. “What the hell!?”

“No,” Killian starts, shaking his head again before he approaches her, voice cut low so not even the early morning crickets can hear him over their musical sounds. “You are not a monster. Your magic does not make you a monster. It’s a part of you, Emma. A strong, beautiful part of you that comes from love.”

“But –”

“But nothing. Regina used magic through anger and bitterness to get revenge and hurt people. You used magic to protect the people you love. That makes all the difference. You are not the same as her. You never could be.” Any retort she has dies on her lips as his hands come up to cup her face. Their noses brush but their gazes remain locked. “I know the outcome of that night hurts you, but that’s because your heart is good. Your magic isn’t something to be ashamed of. Don’t be afraid to use it.”

She swallows hard. Her eyes flutter closed as she inhales shakily, her words a quieter whisper than even his. So quiet she’s surprised he hears her at all.

“My magic’s been waning since then,” she confesses. “I don’t know what’s happened, but I struggle to tap into it and whenever I do, it’s like there’s barely anything scraping the bottom of the well. I – I don’t think I have any left.”

“Emma…” Killian’s quiet, comforting voice is drowned out by the calling of her name from the tower beside them. The two of them break apart in a hurry, eyes darting up to see if they’ve been spotted but all that greets them is the billowing of her curtains.

“I need to go,” she says regretfully. She hoped they’d have more time for a proper goodbye. Her parents and her are travelling to the opposite coast to spend two weeks touring some of the villages and she won’t be able to see him off.

“Have your sword?” Killian asks. Emma pats her side where it sits in the scabbard. “Your dagger?”

“In my boot,” she answers, raising one heel to tap the side of her boot where the dagger he gave her years ago sits sheathed in its hiding place.

Killian surges forward, pulling her into a hug and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her cheek. “Be safe, Swan. Promise me.”

She clutches him as tight to her as possible, closing her eyes as she takes stock of him one last time. “Only if you do too.”

“You don’t have to worry about me, love. I’m a survivor.” She huffs out a laugh at that and shakes her head. A second call of her voice from the tower has her pulling away and whispering a final goodbye.

She feels his eyes on her back the entire time she climbs up the side and she bets he’d clamber over the side wall in an instant if she were to start falling. Not that she wants to test that theory. One of her legs swings over her windowsill and she takes the moment to look back at his waiting form at the tree line. She waves and her heart soars at his wave in return. Always watching, waiting, protecting.

Emma swings her other leg over the sill, coming to a stand in her room in a daze, soft smile on her face.

“You know,” her mother’s voice rings out from Emma’s bed. Snow smirks in delight and amusement as she watches Emma’s eyes widen and face pale. “Of all the times I snuck out of here growing up, I was never caught.”

---

three and twenty. fall.

Atticus Brown dies by the time Emma turns 22.

His blacksmith shop in town lays vacant for the first few months following his death until Emma starts holding workshops with potential apprentices from visiting blacksmiths of allied nations. It makes her feel closer to Killian in his absence while also serving the purpose of scouting a new royal blacksmith. They’re getting by, at the moment, but stores are waning and there’s only so much their allies can offer up without putting themselves at a disadvantage.

The answer comes in a blacksmith from a land Emma’s never heard of before.

A recommendation from Atticus in his dying breath of a man who responds to a letter with a royal seal in only three months’ time. Isaac Heller.

She heard the name in passing before. He’d been one of Atticus’ apprentices before moving away when he was her age. The man never kept up letter writing with Atticus despite the numerous ones he sent Isaac’s way, and that alone left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Then there is the slimy way that Isaac finagles his way into every conversation he hears. It’s like a habit of his, or even a curse. She can spot across a room the way his ears perk up, his back straightens, and his face instantly brightens in faux interest as he inserts his way in.

“I don’t like him,” Emma tells her parents one day once she’s positive Isaac has left castle grounds. “There’s something about him…”

“Is this because of your gut or because he’s not Killian?”

Emma’s cheeks burn at her mother’s mention of Killian while her father’s head shoots up in alarm.

“Killian? Killian Jones? Why would Emma be concerned Isaac’s not Killian?”

“Now is not the time, David.” Snow turns her attention to Emma as David glances between his wife and daughter in horror. “So, which is it?”

Emma rolls her eyes. “My gut says don’t trust him. He has a hidden agenda.”

Snow nods her head. “Your father and I agree. We’re not letting him in on any military plans, but unfortunately he’s all we have for the time being.”

“None of the apprentices from the workshops can do it?”

David rounds the table, coming to stand beside Snow. “They don’t have enough training and aren’t able to do what we need to. With anyone else, we’d have them continue a regular apprenticeship under our blacksmith.”

“But with Isaac being our only option right now, we want as little of his influence anywhere as possible,” Snow finishes.

She sighs, nodding her head in understanding. There had been a time, about a year or so ago, when one of their ships called Jewel of the Realm were making great headway on Regina’s loyal supporters. Apparently the captain and his lieutenant were battlefield masterminds on the water as well as the few times they took their crew to fight on land too.

Then a few months ago, deep in the Enchanted Forest away from any nearby villages, Snow’s birds started bringing her items to indicate a new, growing resistance in the name of Regina. They’ve all come to the conclusion that they found themselves a new leader to organize them into action, gaining numbers by the day.

“Can we get back to Killian and Emma?” David questions after a moment of silence.

“Nope,” Emma says, backing up with her hands in the air. “No way. I am out of here.”

*

The next time she sees Killian, she’s halfway through her third year in her twenties and it’s at a ball held in his honor. Sort of.

As a way to keep morale high amongst their troops as well as show their appreciation for all their sacrifices, her parents hold a ball to honor their servicemen who have been promoted. Liam attended a ball three years ago when he became captain and Emma faked sick, worried on the off-chance he’d remember her as the servant girl from that one night years ago. It was a risk she couldn’t take so she begged off and stayed in bed for the night. Sneaking out had been out of the question as the castle had been crawling with military officials. Now that she’s become more of a public figure, there were too many chances she could be noticed.

In all honesty, she considered contracting the same fake illness the night of this ball as well until her mother came into her room holding a beautiful red gown and a teasing smile on her face.

“I think Killian will be left speechless to see you in this.”

“That’d be a first,” Emma mutters to herself as fingers the silky material of the dress. It’s soft and smooth against her fingers, sliding off her skin like water. The red is a particularly eye-catching color, familiar too. Almost the same color as the vest Killian wore as an apprentice blacksmith.

Wait.

“What do you mean ‘Killian’?”

Snow grins, barely contained joy hidden beneath it. “Yes, I must have forgotten to mention it to you. Both Killian and Liam have been promoted for their efforts on the Jewel of the Realm and we’ll be honoring them tonight.”

The rush of blood through her system drowns out anything else her mother might have said and blocks her from noticing the servants who’ve come in to help her prepare. Emma moves with them out of habit rather than any real thought, her mind anywhere but in her room.

Killian and Liam were the ones on the Jewel, conquering both sea and land. Not that that should surprise Emma. Killian’s always been incredibly intelligent and strategic in the time she’s known him. He works hard to stay one step ahead of his enemy and it had clearly been paying off. Still, her heart lurches when she recalls how many close scrapes the Jewel has been through over the last few years.

Her mind races over the possible scenarios in which they see each other again for the first time in years. Would she trip? Would he still be excited to see her? Would this be another time that evil descends upon their castle and ruins everything?

Her palms are sweaty by the time she sits besides her parents on their thrones in the ballroom. She fiddles with her fingers constantly as allied dignitaries greet them and she half expects her mother to slap her hands away as if she were a child. Once the ball officially starts, Emma is immediately surrendered to the dance floor. She spends over two hours dancing with nearly every military officer there and considers her plan to contract a fake illness once again. Clearly Killian isn’t here tonight, nor is his brother. Her mother simply played a cruel joke to get her to join them at the ball.

As if summoned by her thoughts, Killian speaks from behind her, a gasp of surprise leaving her lips before she turns around. “You know,” he starts in a low voice. “You must have done something bad for your parents to torture you with these dances. I don’t think I’ve seen your toes stepped on so much.”

Emma huffs, barely able to keep the laughter out of her voice though she suspects her glee at his appearance is as obvious as his own. “Are you saying you won’t be one to step on my toes?”

“There’s only one rule, Swan,” he starts, coming closer and wrapping one arm around her waist as he grabs her hand with his free one. “Pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.”

Music starts and the rest of the ballroom fades away as they let the music move them. Their eyes immediately lock onto each other and Emma can’t help the upwards twitch of her lips. “Who taught you to dance?”

“Liam, believe it or not,” he confesses, his shoulders hunching up for a moment before he settles them down for the dance. “He said I’d need to know how to dance if I ever wanted to impress a princess.”

“Oh, just any old princess?”

“Aye. Your lot are a dime a dozen, love.” She only lets enough of a laugh escape for him to notice, their eyes twinkling as they bask in the moment alone together. “But are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Impressed?”

He passes his inquiry off as a joke but the earnest pinch of his eyebrows give him away. Anyone else could have looked at him and missed it but they know each other like their favorite books. So she smiles, the hand on his shoulder sliding over to the back of his neck and starting to play with the hair that rests at his collar.

“Eh,” she starts. He huffs out a laugh and rolls his eyes until she whispers his name softly. “You’ve always impressed me.”

He swallows hard, the action audible to her in their close proximity. “I’ve missed you,” he whispers.

“I missed you too.” She blinks quickly and offers a reassuring smile at his concerned expression. His hand that had tightened against her back relaxes as they continue to move without thought. “Even if you are constantly putting yourselves in danger.”

“Anything to keep you safe,” he says even quieter than the last.

“When do you ship out again?”

“Not for a few weeks.” She tries her best to keep up her smile for him but it wobbles. It seems like she is only destined to get him for blips of time, never granted more than that. “But it seems that, as her new captain, the king and queen have requested that Misthaven’s capital be the Jewel’s homeport.”

Emma pulls back just enough to get a full look at his face, her eyes roaming over every inch to see if there’s any hint of a joke there. Not that he’d joke about that but she couldn’t let herself accept it until she knew it was completely true. The hopeful grin he gives her and the small nod he adds has a wide smile breaking onto her face.

“Really?” she asks in disbelief. His homeport is now the capital. She could keep an eye on the Jewel from her bedroom window.

“Aye.” His eyes finally broke free of hers as he glanced over her shoulder towards where the thrones sat on a dais. “Had a personal visit from Her Majesty to let me know the news.”

“Wait, seriously?” Killian nods again and Emma doesn’t hold back her laugh this time. There is no bigger meddler in the realm than her mother. Her father comes as a close second but her mother’s brilliant plans and determination keep her in the top spot.

It’ll be easier on her heart to have him so close, she decides in that moment. She knows Killian has no intention of courting her, regardless of what she thinks his feelings are. He’s grown up accustomed to the fact that princesses don’t marry commoners, even military officials. Nothing she says will convince him of it otherwise and part of her wants to hate him for denying them a happiness they most likely won’t find with anyone else. At least not in this way. But she understands too.

Her duties, her role as princess to her people, heir to the throne, must come first, same as his duties to the crown. Just like her, he acts in what he thinks is in the best interest of Misthaven. But her parents refuse to allow her to sacrifice love just to keep their kingdom. She knows that if she were to abdicate the throne for any reason, especially love, they’d understand and support her.

Killian would never forgive himself if she abdicated for him though, not that she ever thought of actually doing it. Since birth, Misthaven’s well-being has been her top priority. She loves her kingdom and her people and she wants them to thrive. She never thought she’d give it up for anything. But if it came to a choice, her kingdom or her… Killian, Misthaven stands no chance.

They may never be what she wants them to be, and she’s accepted that. At the very least, she will be able to keep him in her life, close to her heart even if he won’t accept her offering of it.

But their connection will not break. It’s too strong, taunt with tension that reinforces its binding, to ever break. She knows it will continue to tempt them and she knows they’ll fall for it every time. She’ll take what she can get, she decides. From the looks he gives her as they dance, she assumes the same to be true for him.

A respite among duties.

It’s not until they hear roaring applause that they stop dancing. The musicians who have been performing throughout the night are taking their bow and her parents are offering their thanks for their services. Heat seeps into her cheeks as she realizes she spent four songs dancing with Killian, none the wiser.

A flush dances on Killian’s neck beneath his collar as he clears his throat. “Liam will be disappointed.”

“Why?”

“He hoped to dance with you tonight,” Killian says, embarrassed. “He believes you were masquerading as a servant girl a few years ago and wanted confirmation on if he was right.”

Emma smirks. “Me? Pretending to be a servant girl? Why would I ever do that?”

He chuckles quietly, looking around the room as he licks his lips. Satisfied that the coast is clear, he leans down and whispers, “Meet me tonight?”

She nods before he can even pull away and they share a smile before Killian disappears into the night.

*

He wants measurements. At least, that’s how their visit starts. His hands trailed over her, his touch sending a burning sensation through the cloth of her riding blouse down to her skin.

“Bloody hell, love,” he grumbles. “Stay still.”

“I can’t,” she whines, hip lifting and her hand slapping his away. “I’m ticklish.”

“I’m never going to get this done if you don’t stop moving.”

“What is this even for?”

“Come on, Swan. It’s not a present if I tell you beforehand.”

“What? You gonna sew me a dress?”

“As much as I’d love to see you cut quite the figure in a few more dresses like earlier tonight,” he begins, a heated look making its way towards her before he attempts to get a measurement of her hips again. “I was a blacksmith’s apprentice, love, not a seamstress’.”

Her breath is lofty as she watches his deft fingers move across her then pencil notes on the parchment beside her body. “Is that what you prefer?”

“Hm?” he asks, distracted.

She licks her lips, watching as the fringe of his black hair falls into his eyes as he writes. She just barely keeps her hands gripping the table’s edge to not push it out of the way. No, she wanted his reaction to her next statement.

“Me in dresses and corsets. Is that what you prefer?” she asks and his head shoots up to her in an instant, writing paused. “Or is there another state of dress or… undress… you prefer?”

It takes him all of a moment – the parchment and pencil swiped to the side to clear the table – before he reacts, coming into her space, cradling her head, and crashing his lips onto hers.

The measures wait until another night.

---

five and twenty. early winter.

Isaac Heller could, well, go to hell, for lack of a better phrase.

Killian and Liam’s conditions are partially his fault, after all.

The first time she sees Killian after Neverland, he’s hiding away in the blacksmith’s shop with a bottle of rum that’s nearing empty, bloodied bandages wrapped around his empty wrist. Dark circles have found a home beneath his eyes and his face is gaunt.

“You sent them where?!” Emma roars, turning on her father in anger.

“They know the risks and they accepted them.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to send them!”

“They’re the best equipped, Emma. Liam and Killian are the only ones I trust with this.”

“It’s Neverland!” she shouts back. Frustrated tears well in her eyes and no matter how much she tries to blink them away, they simply multiple.

She knows that the trip is necessary. Regina loyalists have poisoned all their weapons with dreamshade and that, topped with the poor quality of armor and weapons that Isaac is overseeing, Misthaven’s armies are being wiped off the map. The advantages that they’ve worked hard to take back, all the effort Killian has put in as the Jewel’s captain the last two years, are gone.

“We need a cure. With it, we still stand a chance,” David says. He approaches Emma slowly, cautiously. “They know dreamshade is dangerous. They know Pan might still be around. But this is a risk we have to take. We have one chance at this.”

Emma sniffles. “They know you’re just trying to get the cure, right? That you’re not like King George or Regina’s loyalists and going to use it as a weapons?”

“Of course they do.”

“And – and they’re together, right? You sent them together.”

“I wouldn’t have done it any other way.”

Emma nods her head, trying to reassure herself the best way she can. David sighs sadly and pulls Emma into his arms, cradling her head to his chest as he presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Liam won’t let anything happen to Killian. And Killian’s a survivor.”

“He better be,” Emma mumbles. “Or I’ll kill him.”

According to the reports of Smee, Killian’s first mate, the Jewel of the Realm landed in Neverland’s waters without issue. Mermaid seas were quiet and the pixies left the crew alone. Pan led them right to the dreamshade with no issue, though not without attempts at manipulation. It wasn’t until Liam plucked enough of the plant to bring back and Killian raised a torch to light the rest on fire that Pan raised issue.

Sending the Lost Boys after the Jewel’s crew was a cruel decision. They were just kids, Your Majesty, Smee stuttered in his explanation as he cradled his red hat to his chest. We didn’t know what to do. But they were savages too.

She’s not sure how he did it but Killian led the crew through the ambush with no casualties on their side. Injuries, plenty, but miraculously no casualties. Most of the injuries came from fractured armor, simple strikes breaking the metal protection and leaving the men vulnerable. The worst of it happened to Killian and Liam.

With the rest of their crew being overwhelmed by injuries from the armor’s lack of protection, the two of them took on most of the battle themselves. It came to an when they fought Pan side by side, according to Smee, and the boy who never grew up didn’t want to give up. He used his magic to play dirty tricks and took delight in making the brothers suffer. He sliced Killian’s left hand off with his own sword, broke Liam’s back with a sliding boulder as he checked on his younger brother.

Pan was only stopped from finishing the job by the call of a strange bird none of them could see. Possibly the only thing that frightened him as he flew from the area in an instant. The crew rounded up the remaining Lost Boys to put in the ship’s cells and brought Killian and Liam straight to the healers once returning to Misthaven.

I’m a survivor.

He’s alive, yes, that much Emma can see from the entrance of the blacksmith’s shop, but did he survive?

“Killian?” she asks quietly into the still air of the shop. His head jerks up at the sound of her voice and he immediately hides his left arm behind him. “Oh, Killian,” she whimpers, striding up to his side and pulling him into a hug.

A sob cracks against her shoulder and Emma feels Killian drop his weight onto her, his tears wetting through the fabric of her cloak. They stay in their embrace for longer than she cares to count. Her focus remains solely on him and his hurt, her heart aching through his pain.

“I can’t go back,” he whispers as his tears dry.

“You will never have to go anywhere you don’t want to,” she reassures him.

“No,” he says with more strength. He pulls away from her, wipes his sleeve along his nose and cheeks. “I can’t go back into service.”

Her brows furrow in confusion. “You’re an asset to our navy. You’ll always be wanted. You’re brilliant and –”

“No,” he says more forcefully. “I won’t go back into service.” He glares at his left arm and she knows that’s not really the issue. Misthaven will take him in whatever shape he’s in, if he wants it. But there’s a darkness to his gaze now and a self-hatred that hadn’t been there before Neverland. Rage curls around her chest as she wonders what horrors Pan must have twisted and made Killian believe.

“Killian, you don’t have to go back into service if you don’t want to. That’s fine. We –”

“I have to take care of my brother. He’s spent his life taking care of me so I must attempt the same for him.”

“I can hel–”

“Leave, Princess.”

Emma stares, dumbfounded at his abrupt change of tone.

“Now.”

He doesn’t look at her as he speaks, anger and disgust in his voice as tells her to go. She doesn’t know if it’s directed at her or not but it hurts, nonetheless. She turns and walks to the door in a fog, stopping briefly before she goes.

She turns her head only slightly, just enough that she can’t see him but her words will still carry his way. “Thank you for making it back,” she says and it isn’t until she closes the door behind her that she hears his agonizing cries.

It takes all of her willpower to not march right back inside and wrap him in her arms for the rest of the night. But there are some things he doesn’t need or want her for.

Instead, she throws her focus into the young apprentices that had continued to study under the visiting blacksmiths. The next time she enters the shop, there’s no sign that Killian had been there aside from some scoffed hay. It pains her to see how easily he leaves no trace of himself.

Isaac only continues to oversee a dwindling quality of the armor every day, claiming the old materials they used to use are inaccessible due to the enemy’s bases. Sneaking into the bases and stealing anything is a no-go as someone in the loyalists’ camp is using magic to protect them. He says there’s no other areas they could mine for it but her gut tells her that’s a lie and she sets to work trying to find something.

In the meantime, she continues to encourage the workshops as a royal ambassador and hopes that one of the students will get skilled enough in time to save them from a suddenly losing war.

The second time she sees Killian post-Neverland is at one of the workshops. He comes into the blacksmith’s shop with an apron on and a hook where his left hand used to be. He seems startled to see other people in there and Emma takes pity on him, grabbing his elbow and bringing him aside. As much as their last moments together hurt her, she hates to make him feel anything other than wanted.

“It’s a workshop to train potential apprentices,” she offers.

“Oh.” Killian’s eyes studied the pack of students, only a small number of four. “Why?”

Emma sighs, crossing her arms with a roll of her eyes. “We need to get rid of Isaac and… this is all we have right now.”

“You have me.”

She turns sharply at his words, eyes narrow and her breath caught in her throat.

“I – I know I mucked things up when you saw me last,” he says, raising his hand to scratch at his ear. “And I’m sorry. I never should have taken my turmoil out on you. It had nothing to do with you. I promise.” He stares, waiting for an acknowledgement and only when she nods does he continue. “I’m not returning to the navy; I need to take care of Liam as he heals. But I can help with the workshops. Get these kids trained and ready.”

“You’d trade your free time to help with the workshops?”

“Aye.” A single simple nod to accompany his one-word affirmation. She reaches over and grabs his wrist, squeezing gently.

“Thank you.”

*

“There are a few places near Segovia that should still have available mines for the materials. Granted, it’s been a few centuries, according to the records, but hopefully that means that the stores have come back.”

Emma watches as Killian pours over the map on the council table, her parents on one side of him and Liam in a wheeled chair on the other, Graham, Red, and Blue behind them. He doles out strategies like he’s on his ship captaining her off to battle and the rest of the room listens like loyal crew. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and she’s fascinated by the way the leather brace for his hook contrasts with the color of is skin, and how the new addition to his body only accentuates the rest of him.

That’s not even to mention how attractive she finds him waving the hook around as he talks, like he’s already accustomed to having it instead of his hand.

She knows he still struggles. That he’ll still poke himself and accidentally bleed or create rips in his shirts and trousers. But he works hard to figure out ways to treat it like his left hand. It helps him in the blacksmith’s shop, he told her once. He’s able to change the way he handles his work and it actually works better for him than two hands ever did. It also helps him more on the few times he went sailing, borrowing a boat from the docks to get Liam back on the water for an afternoon of fishing.

His proud smile and the twinkle that’s starting to come back to life in his eyes only makes her grin.

God, she loves every part of him.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, little brother,” Liam starts, sharing a teasing look with Emma as Killian mumbles a correction under his breath. “But this route skirts their main camp. It runs the highest risk of discovery.”

“Aye,” Killian heaves with a heavy sigh. “It’s a risk I’ll have to take.”

“No.”

All eyes turn to Emma before she even registers that it was her who shot out a clear rejection of his plan.

“It’s a good plan, Emma,” Snow says gently. “It’s also the only hope we’ve got.”

“That’s why I’m going,” she replies. Her statement gets a round of denials and outrage from everyone but Killian, who stares her down. His hand and hook press hard into the table and she’s sure she’s the only one to notice the tear he put in the map.

“I’m going and you’re not, end of story,” Killian finally interjects.

“Absolutely not,” she fights back.

“Give me a good reason.”

“Oh, you just want one? Because I have several.”

“Go ahead, list them. I’m all ears, love.”

“Fine,” she scoffs. “My parents are out for the obvious reasons of not escalating the conflict further and not losing the rulers of the kingdom at the same time. Liam’s out because he’s still healing. Graham, Red, and Blue are our trackers and keeping eyes on the front line. And you’re out because we need you training the apprentices.”

“They can go a few weeks without me.”

“Well I won’t allow it.”

Killian shakes his head. “You can’t stop me.”

“I will have you arrested.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Do you like seeing me hurting?” she blurts out suddenly. The room falls silent and Killian stares at her with wide eyes. Varying degrees of shock play across the faces of the rest of the room’s occupants and Emma swallows hard. “Because I cannot go through again what happened with Neverland, and what happened with the battles before it, and the many, many close calls you’ve had. You might not give a shit but I do, okay?! And I’m not going to sit by and let you put yourself in a situation where you might die, especially when you clearly have no regard for your life, because I cannot go through it. I – I,” she stops herself, inhaling shakily before she regains her bearings and continues. “It’s out of the question. I’m not needed anywhere specific so I can be spared. It’s the most logical reason but it’s also the one I’m deciding on no matter what. I’m going. Ready a few horses and the best skilled knights we can afford to take from the castle. I leave in two hours.”

Emma doesn’t bother to give Killian another glance as she storms out of the room.

Her parents meet up with her quickly and try to talk her out of it to no avail. They see the determination in their daughter’s gaze and the straight set of her shoulders. Admitting defeat, they help her get ready.

Killian waits for her by the horses, pacing back and forth until he hears her footsteps coming closer.

“Good,” he breathes out in relief, immediately stepping into her space and adjusting the holdings on the armor he made for her a few years back as a gift. “You’ve kept it.”

“Of course,” she says softly. Her anger at his disregard for his own life melts away in an instant. “I keep all the handy gifts.”

Killian holds up his hook with a gaze playfully narrowed. “You trying to make a joke, Swan?”

She rolls her eyes but fails to keep the grin off of her face. “You’re going to be the worst, aren’t you?”

“Always.”

They grin at each other for another moment before the sound of the nearby knights startle them out of it. Killian’s grin falls as a grim expression overtakes his features, the gravity of the situation falling onto them with startling clarity and he’s unhappy at the turn of the events.

“Not so fun being on the other side, huh.”

“Most definitely not,” he agrees with a frown. “Are you –”

“Killian.”

“Aye, as you wish.” He sighs, his hand coming up to brush some hair behind her ear. “Please be safe, love.”

“I will be.”

“I want you to come home alive, Swan, got it?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Emma,” he says warningly. There’s a heat in his gaze that she files away for later. He closes his eyes briefly and when he reopens them, he focuses on readjusting the holdings again. “Got your sword?”

She taps the sword in the scabbard he gave her years ago. “Right here.”

“Dagger?”

She taps the heel of one boot to the side of the other. “In my boot.”

They look at each other, a longing pull tugging both of them closer. “Emma…”

“I’ll be fine, promise,” she says with a small smile and shrug.

“Not a moment will go by I won’t think of you.”

“Good.”

He walks her to the horse as if he’s walking her to her execution and her chest feels tight. Despite their friendship, or whatever you could call their friendship, they’ve never seen the other off. Their schedules wouldn’t allow them the opportunity. Now she can’t tell if that was a blessing or a curse, especially when every second she spends in his presence makes her want to go less and less.

As she turns to climb atop her horse, he stops her with his hook grabbing her elbow.

“Wait,” he pleads. She turns and gives him her full attention. “No matter what, please come home.” He pauses. “To me.” It’s as close to an admission as he’ll allow himself and her heart soars. Her fingers tingle and she swears that if she had any magic left, they’d be sparking.

Emma takes a page from her parents’ book and takes a step closer to Killian, gripping the lapels of his vest and pulling him down for kiss in front of the stables. She hears a clattering of chain-link and knows her knights are giving her what little privacy they can offer. It’s a short kiss, yet still full of passion and promise. “Have another gift ready for me and you’ve got yourself a promise.”

He laughs as she climbs her horse. “Any preferences, love?”

She smirks, pretending to think about it. “Something we can match.”

The knights follow her out of the stable compound a few minutes later, the hooves of the horses pounding a rhythmic beat against the forest floor. She feels euphoric.

Her good mood lasts all of five days before everything goes to shit.

[wannaeatramyeon]

i keep looking at the frames of mary and i cant even be disappointed at this point. i just want her to at least have her old style back. i miss seeing baggy sweater and a pair of shorts mary, i miss the mary that loved the BNC outfit, not because it was sexy, but because it was comfy. i feel like the way a character dresses says a lot about them, like how mira tends to dress more business casual (i definitely used that term wrong) or more comfortable whereas sally usually wears her big coat and overall dresses to be warm and comfortable or even that one kid (cannot remember if he was relevant or who he is) that would go to lengths to have expensive clothing and accessories because of how much he valued status. PTJ has never been good at writing or drawing realistic women but at least he used to give SOME of them their own style based on who they are.

also hi! its been awhile, howve you been?

Hello!! omg it's good to hear from you!! I've been less hyperfixating, but more fixating. How have you been?!

And, well. funny you say that because I've been practicing my lil doodles to try and be able to draw shit and I actually doodled Mary last week. Great minds think alike huh.

Lol, PTJ doesn't even know who these women are anymore. Makes sense they would all just be thirst traps.

And as to my other anons. PTJ isn't as problematic as some people, but that's a race to the bottom. I get that sex sells and PTJ is an equal opportunity objectifier, I'll give him that. BUT the way that he writes women IS problematic. The male gaze would be a lot less offensive if the women have personalities and are more than accessories...

PLEASE WATCH AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER. Azula is one of the best girlbosses of all time! And my current hyperfixation: JJK!

[kanyereadsausten]

Despite this tweet's apparent irrelevance to Austen's Juvenilia or Northanger Abbey, it is impossible to scroll past it and not feel compelled to share it. The tweet references the 1995 mini-series adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, which stars the widely beloved Colin Firth. Although the series quite accurately depicts the chronology in Jane Austen's novel, the writers, to the delight of Pride and Prejudice fans and Colin Firth admirers alike, included an extra scene... a thirst trap.

In this scene, Mr. Darcy, while fully clothed, decides to take a swim in a small lake on his estate. After he emerges from the water, he encounters Elizabeth Bennet and is forced to maintain dignity and composure despite being soaking wet. The director, Andrew Davies, cognizant of the scenes inconsistencies with the text, merely intended to portray Mr. Darcy in a vulnerable position in front of Miss Bennet. However, the general audience interpreted this scene as a display of sexual connection between the two characters, but even more so an opportunity to dote on Mr. Darcy.

This tweet perfectly captures the consensus of the viewers, and reminded me of the gifset shown in class of a wet Mr. Darcy. As much as a deviation from the novel could be a fatal risk considering the unwavering loyalty of the Pride and Prejudice fandom, this one was quite welcomed, equally by myself.

Sources:

link, Get, et al. Mr Darcy’s Wet White Shirt and How Jane Austen Got Us Obsessed. 15 Sept. 2018, https://www.anartsnotebook.com/2018/09/mr-darcys-wet-white-shirt-jane-austen.html.

https://x.com/tiredhearts_/status/1164816907888779264?s=46&t=PMy-7DvgdI4Nq7DMX0tRuQ

[firealder2005]

@alollinglaughingcat i need backup pspspspspspspspspsps (also what do u think of my propo? :3 )

okay. okay.

I know. Obi-Wan is the fandom's thirst trap.

But take an asexual's advice for a moment.

Look. At. This. Man.

Look at him. The look in his eyes. The sheer unadultured PAIN in them. Makes your heart twist just seeing it. These eyes watched his adoptive father get hanged by the Empire. They saw Bix Caleen utterly torn to pieces within the confines of her own mind. They saw his best friend K shot to pieces. They saw his adoptive mother urge his new home planet into Rebellion.

These are the eyes of a boy who inspired a prison break within the bowels of the Empire itself. The eyes of a hopeless individual who gave equally-hopeless men hope for a better future.

These are the eyes of a man. These are the eyes of a true Rebel.

He's strategic. He's a fighter. He's morally gray. He's a Separatist-turned-Rebel. He is quite possibly the only survivor of his home planet.

He survived a blaster shot to the side long enough to make it to Jyn, to give them both a sense of trust and belonging one last time before they saw their lives end in one, fatal shot.

REBELLIONS ARE BUILT ON HOPE.

CASSIAN is the originator of this CORNERSTONE of a quote.

He gave hundreds - if not THOUSANDS of people an opportunity to do something they were PROUD of. HE brought an ARMADA for Jyn, to steal the Death Star plans and give the Rebellion he gave SO MUCH FOR a fighting chance.

It's not only about the looks.

But the fire that's contained within.

also just look at him ↑ i wouldn't bang him, or anyone else, but come on.

He's gorgeous.

thank you for coming to my TEDTalk.

The Only Important Rule To Remember:

When there are only two characters remaining, they will face off against one another in a week-long poll to determine the victor.

Bye-bye Benny! You brought the drama, you brought the chaos! I want to give a big shout-out to the passionate and lovely Kylo Ren fans who campaigned so hard for their boy. You got him to bronze, and with how divisive Ben/Kylo is as a character, that's really impressive.

Now... without further ado...

This.

Is.

It.

It all comes down to a simple decision. A choice between two men, both of whom gave their lives to bring down The Empire.

Will the winner be Obi-Wan Kenobi?

Or will it be Cassian Andor?

Cast your votes for the last time to decide, once and for all... who is the hottest Star Wars man of all time?

...oh, but remember, this is all just for fun! So don't take it too seriously ;)

Happy voting, and may the hottest man win!

[satansaidmyturnintheh3llscape]

Everything Right/Wrong with Ninjago “Legacy of the Green Ninja” E3: Double Trouble

Disclaimers: Show owned by LEGO. This is not a professional review/critique - it’s mainly intended for comedy.

- Intro ✅

- Lloyd is holding that lightbulb way too close to his face. Green Bean’s gonna lose an eye ❌

- “I can’t seem to teach him to control his power!” He’s about to beat up a punching bag because he hit himself in the face with a broom. I don’t think his powers are what he needs to control right now ❌

- “Sometimes the greatest opponent we face is ourselves. That is especially true of Lloyd.” This is a very interesting take on Lloyd’s character and one that not enough people talk about… including the show itself ❌

- “He is the son of Lord Garmadon.” Yeah but Garmadon hasn’t had any place in raising Lloyd yet, so he’s not really the one to blame for Lloyd’s anger problems ❌

- “It’s going to take time for him to embrace the light.” It doesn’t take much time at all, actually. My biggest issue with this season is the fact that they had plenty of episodes to better set up a proper arc and development for Lloyd, but they don’t. Sure, he gets this episode and sort of Child’s Play, but otherwise he’s not that much more focused on than he is in season 1 (in terms of the filler episodes). Sure, a race episode is… well it is there, but give us Lloyd struggling to unlock his powers because he knows he’ll have to use them to hurt his dad, or something like that. A lot of the first half of this season just feels like a missed opportunity. Fluff is fun but I want angst, d*mmit! ❌

- I know showing Kai, Zane, and Cole talking in the background while Jay and Nya talk is supposed to be realistic, but I just find it really distracting, especially since you can hear them whispering ❌

- Isn’t Nya like 15? How did she get a job? ❌

- “They’ve changed to the Darkley’s School for Great Children.” Use of the word “children” implies one of two things: a) the school has opened up to all genders (seems unlikely since all students seem to be boys and there’s no way this show was that progressive considering we’re just now getting pride flags on screen), or b) The writers barely got away with “bad boys” and now “Darkley’s School for Good Boys” would be the censors’ last straw ❌

- “Wait, they’ve turned good?” Yeah yeah, insert joke about astral projecting voices ❌

- “I love ceremonies! That means there’s gonna be cake!” Finally, some realistic representation of asexuals in the media- ✅

- Not enough people acknowledge how hilarious it is to see a warlord h*llbent on destruction organizing a meeting to “brainstorm” ideas to destroy the heroes ✅

- “OVER THE SIDE!” Over the side ✅

- “Can you make a giant ham sandwich?… I would hope not, I’m so hungry.” Am I stereotyping my own community by saying that every character that thinks about food is automatically ace? Maybe. Is it gonna stop me? Nope. ✅

- “How can I defeat ninja who so rudely refuse to be defeated!?” I know some people don’t like that Garmadon was made less scary this season, and I see their point, but I just can’t help but enjoy every moment he’s on screen ✅

- Someone make a gif of Garmadon punting that snake off the ship. Please? ✅

- Why would there be mint-condition extras of the ninja’s suits just lying around the ship? ❌

- “I have made you to be equal to the ninja.” Why? He can create anything, so why didn’t he make the exact same copycat ninja, but make them just a tad bit stronger than the real ninja? That seems like it’d be more effective ❌

- ^ Ya ever just look at someone and KNOW they make TikTok thirst traps? ❌

- “Any sudden what?” “AHHHHHH-“ ✅

- Brad Tudabone? Does every villain here have to name their kid some godawful pun?!?!? ❌

- Building off that, you have Lloyd Garmadon (pun on Lord Garmadon), Brad Tudabone (bad to the bone), and… Gene? Now I’m laughing at the only kid with the normal name because he’s somehow the outlier in this trio ❌

- I know making unique character designs is hard with lego, but did every kid really have to look almost exactly the same? I feel like the plot twist shouldn’t be “hey the kids are evil!” but rather “hey, where the h*ll did someone get a cloning machine???” ❌

- “They overthrew us! They’re monsters!” No, just children, which is 100 times worse

- “With friends like you, who needs enemies?” This line makes Lloyd visibly sad and I think we should talk about that more ✅

- Evil Jay, Cole, and Zane go from across the room to behind Kai for no apparent reason ❌

- “Lloyd is not at the amusement park!” Why would he tell them that? ❌

- “Jay, you back yet? Can’t wait to see you at the auto body shop!” What phone plays a voicemail after a missed call, unprompted? ❌

- Nya falls for this ❌

- D*MN that escalated quickly; consent??? ❌

- Also, this was originally supposed to be the MAIN relationship of the show and the ONLY time throughout these 2 seasons that they kiss on the lips is in this moment, where one of them isn’t even the real person! ❌

- “Call me!” 1: You live together, 2: No. ❌

- “… they’re gonna brainwash Lloyd and undo all the lessons we’ve tried to teach him!” How intelligent and cunning does Kai think this group of 8-10 years olds is? ❌

- If all the teachers quit after the school turned good, then who made the choice to turn the school good in the first place? ❌

- I love every single moment between Lloyd and the Darkley’s boys ✅

- The evil ninja dodge the spitballs but not the smoke bombs for some reason ❌

- Lloyd falls flat against shattered glass and RUBS against it and doesn’t cut himself ❌

- “Why do I always get tied up?” The writers heard Lloyd’s plea and decided to upgrade him to cages for the whole rest of the series! ❌

- “I escaped fair and square!” ✅

- “Which them?” “My friends of course!” Moments like this make it really hard to try to prove you have a braincell, Lloyd ❌

- Gene has an awful complicated way of depicting a basic element of 7th grade math❌

- “When I arrived here on my first day, I didn’t know how things worked around here, and everyone made fun of me. Brad even put fire ants in my bed.” Lloyd’s life really is just one Shakespearean tragedy after another, huh? ❌

- “All of you have a secret good side that stays quiet out of fear, because it thinks it’s alone, but it’s not. And I’m living proof!” ✅

- “Who here can sew?” Everyone, apparently❌

- “My eyes! I can’t see!” Good to know that evil Kai is just as much a baby as real Kai is

- “Normally we’d punish you for holding us captive, but now that we’ve all learned a valuable lesson, I suppose it’s cause for a celebration!” … What? ❌

- “It’s great to have the tank back!” You had it for 5 minutes before it got destroyed! AND IT’S STILL NOT A TANK ❌

- How can Garmadon contact the ninja? ❌

- Love that Nya put a game controller in the Ultra Sonic Raider. She knows them so well ✅

- “You go to school and sometimes you might pick up a thing or two.” Lloyd ✅

- But also, school propaganda ❌ /lh

- The internal conflict in this episode seems to be that Lloyd has some sort of mental block keeping him from controlling his powers, and the resolution had him overcoming it and learning to control them, but… how? What happened during this episode that made Lloyd develop? How did he go from trying to kill a punching bag to spewing stuff about secret good sides in one’s self? ❌

Sentence: Bring back Brad and Gene you cowards

[aurodontdoit]

Getaway

Sabo x Y/n

Synopsis: After several months of what seemed like endless paperwork and late night cram work for Dragon, You and Sabo were able to finally have some time off together, deciding to relax at a gorgeous couples retreat. What saucy events will take place when you and your beloved are alone together? 

Prologue

Tick tock tick tock

You sat at your desk, reviewing all of the documents that the chief of staff had handed you for finalization. The words on each page were starting to resemble alphabet soup, as your heavy eyelids struggled to stay open, Sabo sat across the room, looking equally exasperated as he scrawled on file that sat in a messy stack in front of him. His dark eyes were focused on the paper, he didn't notice your stare, thank the maker for that!

You took this opportunity to admire your beloved features, from his handsome face, highlighted by his eye bags, burn scar, and furrowed eyebrows.. the same intense look that would send you to a pleasurable nirvana while he railed you on his couch. 

Glancing down to his strong hands where one of them cradled his handsome jawline, you could see he had taken off his gloves, displaying the gorgeous veins of his hard working hands… hands that worked hard, but played harder as he gripped your wrists and pinned them above your head as he had you at his mercy… or the way he would redden your skin as one of his aforementioned slightly calloused hands would come into sharp contact with your ass, making you squeal and squirm.

Swallowing hard to moisten your dry throat, your eyes wandered to his forearms, that were exposed for you to see due to his sleeves being rolled up. You never knew how incredibly sexy a man's forearms could be, until you met Sabo. His muscular forearms and the way they'd tense up when he'd wrap you up in his arms, covering your mouth so you wouldn't make too much noise while his eager manhood would dive deep into your trembling core in a hungry, almost animalistic manner. 

Your tongue lapped around in your mouth in a desperate attempt to salivate your dry cavern. Quickly checking the clock, you realized it had gotten late, and coffee would be a need. You could hardly choke down the sludge water that somehow kept you awake, but only drank it for that sole purpose: To stay awake.

Your tongue felt like sandpaper in your mouth due to your lustful mind fantasizing or more rather remembering your alluring lover, and his debonair being. 

"Is this what the kids meant when they call someone thirsty?" You thought inwardly, recounting the term "thirsty hoe" or "thirst trap" when talking about a rather salacious story or encounter amongst friends. 

You thought thirsting for a person was unrealistic… until now. 

Yes, you and Sabo had been intimate before, but lately, you both have been immensely busy at work, and once you were home, you were too exhausted for sex, let alone changing into pajamas. 

There was one time you and Sabo sleepily stumbled into your shared apartment, in an exhausted stupor, and didn't even make it to the bed, you were both asleep on the floor in your living room. 

"Y/n" 

You were ripped from your thoughts as Sabos soothing tones spoke your name. 

"Y-yes?" You stammered, much to Sabos enjoyment, he grinned. That damned smile again.

Your face flushed as your eyes met his lips. Ahh yes, those pretty pink pillows that left you breathless and speechless. The soft kisses that would start from your own lips, and wind up on your arousal, making you gasp and moan his name like it was a mantra for bodily ecstasy. 

That tongue of his tasted the sugar below your waist, and the honey from your mouth, you're his sweet treat, and nothing can stop his addiction. 

Resting a hand on top of your head and ruffling your hair, Sabo chuckled.

"Earth to Y/n, we can go home now."  He teased playfully while poking your cheek. 

You blinked and looked up at him perplexed before the exhaustion finally set in. A sleep smile bloomed on your face. "Yay~" you softly cheered before reaching your arms out for Sabo, who snickered and picked you up. "Theres my space cadet~" he cooed, continuing to tease you. 

Once you guys were back home, Sabo gently placed you on your shred bed, kissing your forehead, and smiling at your sleeping form. How could anybody be so beautiful even after hours of monotonous work? It seemed impossible until you. Your very existence made him burn with desire for you in every single way, he loved your smile, your laugh, your anger, your passion, your tears, so long as they were tears of happiness. 

Anybody who dared to hurt his baby would face his blazing wrath that left nothing but destruction in its wake. His fingers softly danced across your skin, moving your hair from your perfect face, taking all of your features in as he laid down beside you. 

He was torn from his admiration when his phone rang. 

"Hello?" 

"Ahh good evening my shining candy boy!" Ivankov sang on the other line. 

They're always so exuberant even at 2 am. 

"Hi Iva,.. everything okay?" Sabo rasped. 

"Why yes! I was just calling to inform vou that vou and y/n, are officially on vacation! See originally The tickets to Amourous Isle Couples Getaway were for someone else but they are currently in dispose. His wife is in hospital giving birth to their first born, isnt that wonderful? I hope they have a safe delivery. Anyway, he wanted you to have them! I hope you and Y/n enjoy your much deserved time off! Byeee!" Ivanov hung up in a whirlwind of excitement leaving the half asleep Sabo, dazed and confused. 

"Vacation?... I must be dreaming." 

And without another thought, he let sleep overtake him, as he wrapped his arms around you. 

 

Authors Note: This may have multiple chapters. I feel like I want to extend this so it's more than one chapter, since I have a lot of ideas for it.

@pure-kirarin

@whiskeysrpcenter

@riceballsandsake

Message me if you want in on my tag list!

Thanks for reading!

-Auro

[apiratewhopines]

Something Suspiciously Like Hope

Summary — The moment Captain Hook opens himself up to the possibility of love

Read on AO3

Inspired by Reception Redos and Jellymoons by Jrob64.

A gift for Joni @jrob64 as a thank you for the artwork she did for Killian, Persuaded. If words equaled gratitude, a million wouldn’t be enough.

David asked him once when he knew Emma was the one. He had hemmed and hawed, uncharacteristically shy about confessing his feelings to his father-in-law. One could argue that most people would have the same reaction when questioned by a man whose love life went down as the stuff of myths and legends. Although, when everything was said and done, Killian thought his own love story hadn’t turned out too shabby even with the many twists and turns it had taken over the centuries.

Deep down, he knew it wasn’t the tenderness of his emotions or the intimidation factor of Prince Charming being the inquisitor. No, the reason for his reluctance was something else entirely.

His life had changed so much, he had changed so much, that sometimes revisiting those early days of his acquaintance with Emma seemed like someone else’s life. He had been his normal roguish self, pushing and taunting to hide his genuine fascination with the blonde beauty who had steel running through her spine and fire in her blood.

She wasn’t charmed. Hell, he wasn’t even sure she was interested until he was already well past the point of no return. He had ached with longing, his body tense and mind restless, all the while trying to figure out how to pull her closer with hands already full of bitterness and tightly gripping on to vengeance.

He was ashamed at how long it had taken him to realize the price he needed to pay for the magic of her love was to let go of the past.

As he twisted himself inside out in his quest to become the man she deserved, the man he wanted to be, he would often think about when it began. Why after over a century of loneliness did a continuation of his life as it was suddenly seem unbearable? Why this woman who clearly was immune to his particular brand of charisma? Why abandon his sole goal, and all hope of revenge, for someone who merely tolerated him at best?

The answer was her heart.

Not her heart in the sense of her goodness, her courage, or her kindness. Although all those things formed pieces of the net that entrapped him.

He meant her heart in a very literal, and physical, manner.

Killian Jones had lain dormant for decades, buried under a cutthroat exterior and cunning mind bent on revenge. The young man who had been abandoned by his father and suffered through the loss of more loved ones than anybody should, rebelled against his role of victim and bystander of his fate. When he was forced to watch his brother die for the greed of an ignoble king, it had been the final straw.

But he had still been him. Still Killian, although a little more battle-weary and scarred.

Then he met Milah. His kindred spirit in all the ways that mattered, a companion who thirsted for freedom and adventure in a way that stole his breath. He had loved her as only a person who knew how it felt to lose someone could. Desperately, beyond reason, like a man who had lost his sight and clung hopelessly to the memory of his last sunset all the while knowing soon it, like everything else in his life, would fade.

And he had been right in the worst possible way.

Captain Hook was born out of loss, rigid in his purpose, unflinching in his objectives. But he was also a shield. Once committed to his bloodlust, Killian knew he was signing on to a life empty of love and friendship. The Dark One was not an enemy who respected fair play. The evil imp would find what you cared about, torture you with it, and then destroy all your happiness.

So it had seemed easier to not be happy in the first place.

It was a sacrifice he willingly made. He could have made the case his struggle was a noble one. After all, when you started a blood feud with the most powerful sorcerer in all the realms, you couldn’t go about your business like it was any other Tuesday. So he was really doing everyone a favor by never carrying on beyond dalliances and the murky friendships with his crew that were more about loyalty and obedience than true affection.

Of course, it was all a lie.

He knew it the moment he saw her heart. Or rather, didn’t see it.

For all his musings and certainties he was doing the right thing by keeping his distance from the rest of humanity, the truth was he did it because he couldn’t suffer another loss. He didn’t want to see one more person he loved with their heart ripped from their chest and crushed to dust. If any speck of Killian Jones was to survive, it was better to bypass any entanglements.

He was prepared to stay the course. He took up with all types of villains and unsavory characters and found they were the best sort of people. People who cut off emotion and consciences like gangrenous limbs in order to save themselves.

They were his people.

And then, the moment that changed everything.

They said Lake Nostos had the ability to return to you what was lost. He just hadn’t expected it to come in a flood of emotion so strong it nearly overwhelmed him.

As delightful as he had found Emma up until then, he was still prepared to double-cross and cheat her if it meant he could finally sink his hook into the Dark One’s thick hide. However, his attraction to her aside, he believed in good form and he wouldn’t cause her or her companions any more harm than necessary in his quest. Despite her uncalled for betrayal on their beanstalk journey, her orphan eyes called him back to his better days and he found while he couldn’t exactly forgive her defection, he could respect her singularity of purpose.

After all, wasn’t his own single-minded pursuit what had gotten him into the mess to begin with? Then he was trapped between a rock and a hard place. Cora would surely make him pay if he crossed her again and Emma wouldn’t go down without a fight.

Even he wasn’t sure which side he would land on, the internal struggle and cat-and-mouse game distracting him from the sword fight and leading to an opening the Swan girl took advantage of in a way that strangely made him proud.

As he watched from his place in the sand, Cora reached into Emma’s chest.

His eyes had shut tightly against the image. Echoes of past tragedies ripped through him, reminding him that love was pain, to keep his distance because all hope was already lost.

And then, nothing.

Against his better judgement, he opened his eyes and saw Cora’s empty hand. A wave of light so pure it burned his skin pulsed out from Emma, leaving him woozy. He watched Snow and her adult daughter jump into his portal but he was too dazed to register the fact that once again his chance at revenge was stolen from him.

Honestly, he started having an inkling it didn’t even matter anymore.

His mind whispered, “She’s safe.”

His heart whispered, “She’s the one.”

His soul whispered, “She’s everything.”

Years later, he admitted to himself it was then, at his bleakest point, the first rays of dawn had peeked through his unending darkness. He had even joked with Henry one time it was the moment he decided to win the heart of the woman whose heart couldn’t be stolen.

As he stood and watched his latest opportunity to get even with his archenemy close, he couldn’t help the smile spreading across his face. Ignoring Cora’s murderous stare, he had looked at the peaceful waters and wondered if there was truly someone that would be safe from the Dark One’s machinations. Someone who already called to him on levels he had buried deeply before her grandparents had even been born.

Perhaps it hadn’t been full-blown love but it was the start of something. Something suspiciously like hope.

[enpr-ss]

Oh a denied boogey loses 8 HOURS?!?! Hah the watchers sure fixed that incentive from last life. And it’s very fitting that Scott was the first boogey of the season with the very efficient kill. Bdubs’ kill on Skizz never gets old. Grian’s rage at the lack of drama also very delicious. LOL MARTYN COULDNT KILL SKIZZ BECAUSE OF CC SOLIDARITY. BUT IT WOULD HAVE BEEN SOOOO FUNNY. BIGB IS ALWAYS RIGHT. HE SURVIVED ALL THAT JUST TO FALL DOWN ETHO’S HOLE FROM THE BEGINNING.

Scar's baby talk with Jellie is the greatest. Everyone making fun of the badboys is so different from the fandom reaction of rizzing them up. He’s groveling back to Scott lol. Crawling back vs sheepishly wandering in. Martyn’s names are so great omg. TILLY’S ASHES OH MY GOD. THAT CROSSED THE LINE TWICE. Him bullying Jimmy by making him laugh against his will is so good. Quick witted Martyn as always. Scar and Joel trying to beach off. So many references to previous seasons. A unspoken creeper kill. Pufferfish trading. Boogey and cows. Villagers.

And he’s just mocking the bad boys. Yum yum bread in my tum. “Goes in my belly comes out of my bum.” LOL They’re such little kids energy. Grian’s a piñata LOL. SCARS BULLYING JIMMY BY TARGETING GRIAN SO MUCH HAHAHAA. Having Pearl Scar and then Joel fall down the same hole in succession was the most cartoon thing I’ve ever seen. The creeper and then Pearl. What is happening. Grand theft Grian. The water flow strip mine is actually quite clever. GRAND THEFT GRIAN PART TWO.

Etho’s kill on Joel is so dramatic from this POV. HE DIED TO HIS OWN FISH AND PEARL. LOL. The thirst for time is so real. His accidental stalactite kill on Scar though. AND THEN THE TNT MINECART!!! It does so much damage omg. Scott appearing behind etho and Grian at the base was the best timing!!! Jimmy and Martun underwater fighting to get Scott’s time is such a life series thing.

Nether navigation OP!! All the communal sources this series. And the thumbnail of etho being slain dead by Cleo’s absent father burn. “Dude look behind you you look like a toad” LOL. THE FAILED GRAVEL TRAP LOL. The references to renchanting…. ETHO’S TRAP KINDA WORKED!!! He landed on the singular glass pane amidst all the water.

Martyn listening in on the boogeyman pre talk again. Martyn’s birthday keeps being overshadowed by all the deaths. Also I didn’t know putting out a campfire could set off a trap. Pretty cool trick though. “But if you tickle someone with a tnt minecart” Martyn’s like BET His traps so bad TIES thought it was Scar. Their sculk sensor coming in clutch. A skynet kill! He just jumped off the railing but he clutched!!! Huh the underwater fighting works again!! Truly a mean gill stealing kills. The wooden knockback sword coming in clutch!!

“Um could I use your enchanter?” Gets bombed, respawns on top of Scott. And Jimmy dies again. He got skizz and Joel (with the panes!!) HE BLEW HIMSELF UP LOL.

Scar’s trying to scam Martyn while all of team ties are missing their shots and then Martyn just spleefs him and gets a kill. Incredible. The rigged game and then his knockback slap on impulse. Border trio gave time to each of the rest lol. Martyn has GOT to stop looking away while on skybridges. And he managed to land on the one block that’s not water. Tries to get revenge on impulse and gives him time instead lol. That fight with Pearl!!! Saved by Scott. Scott just spawn killing impulse lol. So they did all get down to below 1 hour. Martyn sudden betrayal with full diamond armor, what a surprise. He did go for Scott first which is symbolic of him being equal opportunity. Impulse went down swinging with the attempted lava. And the countdown from the other players!!! What an ending!!!! The tnt minecart a sound effects were great. Also the timer really puts it on perspective how much time and effort in put into content creation, and how much is edited out for a good video. 24 hours (with all the deaths it was practically more like 16 hours?) cut down to 4 hours total content. Wow even Grian in between was like yeah we need content LOL. I totally agree with Martyn’s decision; with all the references to past series through limited life, re-doing an ending wouldn’t be as entertaining. Everyone was already meta-gaming with alliances and time mechanics; it’s time to bring it all back to the OG rule of death game. And also it’s very in character of Martyn to be like that; it’s not exactly an out of the blue act of god. Also I do think this life series pretty much perfected the game mechanic for entertainment: there was no waiting around for boogey to pass, no waiting around trying to find the other players, no ultra careful gameplay to prevent deaths / damage, and no scrabbling for resources that made it super difficult for a non-pvper to catch up. Traps and alliances and luck and just awareness to look up were extremely relevant. The pufferfish and the sculks were so relevant each time. Very fast paced. “I have their back until I don’t have their back, until my sword goes in it” “A betrayal arc has been long overdue and I’ve been trying to do it for about 4 seasons now” Using the boogeyman sounds is cool! And the wavy texture killing back to mean gills. Oh I thought “deaf” was the obligatory Listener reference as well as a funny callback to his sickness where he couldn’t hear out of his right ear. And the fragment on the cheek is from Last Life for the AHA moments.

Limited life blogging!

BRO WHATS WITH BOOGEYKILL? It’s only been 10 minutes??? Scott??? BDUBS???? WHAT IS HAPPENING??? SKIZZ AGAIN??? On brand for Bdubs to do it to the guy that just got killed. Within 1 minute of the choosing. I can’t I’m crying so hard right now. It’s not even a clever play anymore this is just hilarious. Skizz’s heartfelt speech while Joel and Jimmy are dying in the background. This ain’t about them. Joel bringing Boat Boys over into this. No wonder Etho replaced him with a cow. And of course Etho taunts him back about Jimmy replacing him, and of course he kills the cow. They’re referencing ALL the previous series. So many things are happening at the start. Wow. Everyone is just trying to ally with Etho. Everyone really be dying in pairs. Skizz again. They just can’t keep a cow alive. WHO TNTED THE COWS LOOOOOL?!?! Everyone is dropping like flies.

The complete U-turn once the vexes come out and then the hilarious cutscene back to the meeting room. Everyone REALLY wants Etho’s tnt. “Come here Bdubs…I need an easy boogey kill and it doesn’t get easier than you.” Bdubs never let go of the deadweight allegations lol. Etho and his tnt tree farms. Skizz and Bdubs slap fight lol. Bad boys going out of bounds lol. Joel’s deadpan threat of making himself yellow to get Etho back. Truly another wizard moment. Etho is so happy about his tnt. How many redstone geniuses does it take to craft a power rail. And of all people, it’s Skizz that makes them. Wait why did Grian afk? And why is Bdubs so clingy to Etho? HOW HAS SCAR MISSED WITH THE TNT MINECARTS SO MANY TIMES?!? How is everyone dying so much. WHAT IS HAPPENING?? BDUBS WAS THE THIEF ALL ALONG!! And of course the trap didn’t get him. Also what is causing the timer to glitch? Was it a bubblevator tnt? Also rip Tango’s tower. I wonder if there’s anyone who hasn’t died yet. Grian slain by PUFFERFISH??? HE WAS SO CAREFUL, WAS ANTICIPATING IT, AND STILL DIED TO THE CREEPER LOL. TORCHES LOL. Bdubs heckling him lol.

Etho with the banana code again. Tango and Etho making fun of Skizz’ incredibly obvious plan. Huh Etho’s rping the deadbeat dad a lot. Especially by making Scar and Bdubs turn on each other. HALF A HEART??? Every green has a yellow going after them for lols. “Off you go Joel!! Oh I fell - thank you. You saved me! You saved Joel so that I can kill you!” WHAT A SCENE!!! HE LANDED IN THE MLG. HE WASNT EVEN BOOGEY!! TOO GOOD TO BE SCRIPTED. What is happening. How did Martyn hit the ground he was in WATER. Impulse still the luckiest bastard ever. Etho trying to have a moment with Joel. Wait where was Martyn hiding?? Yes Etho what a great idea. Pull the tnt minecarts towards you. SCOTT’S PERFECT TIMING BEHIND THEM. HE JUST WATCHED THE TNT MINECART SLOWLY ROLL IN HIS DIRECTION LOL. SKIZZ NEARLY DIED SWIMMING AND TANGO HAS TO MAKE IT EASIER FOR HIM LOL. Triple kill!!! Skynet, the mob farm, and pretty much unlimited deaths were the best things to ever happen to this server. Was Etho's mob farm just supplying the entire server for tnt? “I’m impressed Etho, that’s possibly the best work you’ve ever done.” “Thank you Cleo. Also that was so mean” LOL “Not overrated… his skills were from back in the day” and Bdubs defending Etho’s redstone when they’re talking about his pvp skills. HE CALLED HIMSELF WASHED UP AHHAHAAHAH. Omg this scene is ICONIC. Etho just envisioning all the trash talk in his comments. THUMBNAIL IS ONE WORD LOL. Bdubs behaving exactly like an ethogirl in the comments making everything worst. YOUTUBE IN GENERAL LOL. What an episode.

The clocker RP is so good. Babysitting and also bullying Bdubs. Etho loves his tnt. And him just listening on Jimmy’s streamer talk. Ah they went after their wheat because of bread bridge. And his bridge too. This family dinner rp is too real omg. “I like that she’s quiet.” Omg. “Well this is nice” after the tnt gets placed down. OH DID HE CUT OUT THE ABSENT FATHER ROAST?!?!? They’re ACTUALLY playing fetch chicken with the tnt minecart. I can’t believe this. “Little bit of a baby throw” this is real incomprehensible family games right here. The trust exercise with the useless redstone torch. TWO?!? LOL THEY BLEW THEMSELVES UP AS EXPECTED. CLASSIC. WHAT DID THEY THINK WAS GOING TO HAPPEN?! “You dropped the ball.” BRO.

Watching the clip compilation ep 6 by Molecoid. Has the no thumbnail and the intro LOL. He compared Skizz and Scar’s abs….. why. ZombieGem absolutely roasting Etho. “Why would I ever listen to you?” A scar trap lol. “Why are you saying re in front of it?” LOL Joel and Jimmy are so desperate. Impulse is so bad at lying. HE DIDNT EVEN HIDE HIS STASIS CHAMBER AND SCAR FOUND IT AND KILLED HIM IMMEDIATELY. He resets it and Scar gets him again. Why would he reset it right there. HE DIES TO HIS OWN TRAP LOL. Martyn witnessing the downtime of Etho and seeing him turn red is such a lucky find. Wait how did Bdubs survive that end crystal. Just as he’s warning Etho from the family dinner too. ZOMBIEGEM ABSOLUTELY ROLLED HIM OMG. HE BARELY EVEN TRIED SHE LITERALLY BROKE HIS SHIELD WITH SWORE CRITS AND ENDED IT. HE GOT LIKE 2 HITS IN AND THEY WERENT EVEN CRITS. DIDNT EVEN BREAK HER SHIELD. “Wrench of a wife” LOL. SHE WASNT EVEN USING HER SHIELD. SHE UPHILL SWORDED HIM WHEN HE HAD A DIAMOND AXE. SHE WAS ON TWO HEARTS AND SHE STILL HIT HIM LIKE 10 TIMES AND KILLED HIM AGAIN. OH MY GOD HE IS WASHED.

“Yeah I lost my audio” he says over clips of him getting absolutely demolished by the clockers LOL. What a significant look between Grian and Etho. Wow things really have changed this series. Etho doesn’t even pretend to not be the boogey. HE PULLED THE “YOURE ADOPTED” CARD OOOOOOH 1v3s without pregapping; 1/4 the damage was from his own firework, dies to lag from Grian while Scott cleans up. Classic. Quad kill!! Of course people trapped spawn. That firework through the waterfall kill on Jimmy was pretty cool.

Classic Jimmy Trying to get Scott again with the fishing rod slow tnt minecarts. Joel died to glass in the water??? LOL. Etho just hitting every single block and taking fall damage at the worst time possible. HE KEEPS OPENING VC LOL. Bdubs trying to mediate between Scar and Etho lol. HE FELL OFF, CLUTCHED, OFFHANDS HIS AXE AND USES A PICK, AND THEN DIES TO A SKELETON. HES WASHED. AND THEN A WOLF STOLE HIS KILL LOOOOOL. Bdubs taking pity on him. This is such an iconic moment but Skizz’ skin is killing me. “You’re a standup guy. I appreciate you, I love everything about you. I just wish you were better at this game.” AND AXE CRITS SKIZZ LIKE THAT. BRUTAL. EXECUTES HIM WHILE LAUGHING. Skizz’s ghostly “Me too” is also great. What an ending.

He finally got a tnt minecart kill! “Tango this is Minecraft. Why don’t you have blocks?” Pearls game was rigged to kill all three. Etho was smart enough to pick the house that had its undersides all blown up lol. IMPULSE FINALLY GETS A END CRYSTAL KILL!!! BEAUTIFUL. Scar with the excellent sword names. Etho got Grian!!! Etho’s just all by himself, in the sky, talking to ghosts. Oh you can shoot into the border now? How many times did Etho kill Grian?? With the fireworks through water each time as well??? And Scar cheering on Etho in the chat. ETHO HAD TO PROMPT GRIAN TO ENACT THE LOYALTY SWORD LOL!!! FANDOM LIED TO ME!!!! I thought it was a secret low key thing that would only appear at the beginning and end and would be Grian initiated but no!!!! Grian is so happy to live out his dreams of being rescued and partnered with Etho. He’s so time hungry omg. Turning immediately on Pearl. Giving a fair 1v1 to Pearl was very kind of him. He’s still washed though. He died to fall damage just like Grian lol. Half his health gone to his own firework too. He pinned the fluffing comment HAHA

[airasora]

Your Thirst Trap video is really short right? Why haven't you made it yet??

I get why people might think that way. It's like 10 secs king, should be fast to do, right? There's a few reasons why I've focused on other MEPs first

I'm not using (non)Disney characters. I'm using characters from completely different types of media because there just aren't any (non)Disney characters I have ever simped or thirsted over. I love Esmeralda, she's a gorgeous, kind badass. But that doesn't equal thirsting/simping for me.

Thrax may be the only (non)Disney character I'd say I have ever simped for. So could I just focus on him for my Thirst MEP part? Sure. It'd be perfect since I'm using Odette to portray myself anyway.

But that would plain and simply be too easy and boring for me. Yes, I can whip together a 10 sec video of Odette simping for Thrax, it'd take me maybe a few hours max.

I'd much rather take the opportunity to share characters outside of (non)Disney that I have simped or thirsted for, I think that's make for a more interesting video. You guys would get to know me a little more, so to speak, it just seems like the more fun option.

I've been collecting footage of the characters I've chosen, so it's not like I've done NOTHING, don't worry 😂

[afroplatypus]

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Do the sweatpants make this a modern AU idk

Therapist: Bishie Regis isn’t real, he can’t hurt you

Bishie Regis:

And finally Orianna, because it is my god-given bisexual right to draw equal-opportunity thirst traps

[lmanberg]

Tbh if Dream can thirst trap so can George, even if his stans are a lot. Hopefully this means Sapnap is next 👀

Equal rights and equal opportunity 🙏🙏