#instead of being forced to jolly roger it

[glowingmember]

i had to buy a portable dvdrom for my computer that plugs in via usb because my tower HAS NO PLACE TO INSTALL A DVDROM.

Stop removing ports, headphone jacks, and cd players from technology

I don't want to put my information on a cloud! I want physical media

[luffington]

fur & feathers ♡

✧.* art credit!

➤ summary: You tried your hardest to stay out of their way this time. Unsurprisingly, you ended up sandwiched between them instead. (18+)

➤ pairing: sir crocodile x afab!reader x donquixote doflamingo, crocodile x doflamingo

➤ word count: 4.2k

➤ warnings: sub!reader, mean dom!croc & meaner dom!doffy, double penetration, anal sex, size kink, belly bulge, oral (m receiving), creampie, breeding kink, degradation, objectification, power play, she/her & 'girl' used

➤ notes: purely self-indulgent filth..... i am not seeing heaven's gates

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Being Sir Crocodile’s personal secretary obviously had its benefits. Traveling to all sorts of conferences alongside him, meeting important and influential people, and always feeling protected. You lived a more lavish life than the vast majority of Alabastans, and all it took was looking the other way when documents with a winged Jolly Roger appeared on his desk. But it had some major downfalls, too, like putting up with whatever the hell was going on between your boss and that blonde feathery freak. 

You tried your hardest to stay out of their way this time. Unsurprisingly, you ended up sandwiched between them instead. 

Fragrant and flashy perfume clashed with the thick and heady scent of an expensive cigar, overwhelming your senses and making you dizzy. Crocodile’s lengthy cock was buried deep in your throat. You choked and sputtered around it, trying your hardest to use your mouth well and please your boss. Doflamingo’s harsh thrusts into your pussy from behind were making it difficult.

Your wrists had long lost their strength to support you, so you were positioned on your knees and elbows. The dark-haired man comfortably reclined on a stack of plush pillows, his ring-covered hand resting on the crown of your head. Doflamingo gripped your hips hard and repeatedly slammed his enormous dick inside you, practically penetrating your womb. You didn’t have to see him to know that he was maniacally grinning. 

You were fully naked and on display for the two men (to be fair, the blonde was already half-naked when he entered the room). Their perfectly sculpted and scarred bodies were also completely bare, but somehow they both still had their coats on. You would have laughed at the absurdity if it didn’t remind you of their high status and how far below them you were. Or maybe it just was an unspoken challenge between them – first one to take theirs off loses.

They had already made you cum three times before they even got their dicks out. Under the guise of being a gracious host, Crocodile had allowed Doflamingo the honor of your first orgasm of the night. He had made you straddle his thigh and get yourself off by rubbing your bare cunt on his leather pants, bouncing his leg up and down and cackling sadistically at your humiliated expression. Then Crocodile had eaten you out as the other man fondled your tits, and then Doflamingo had strung you up until you couldn’t move an inch while they worked together to torture your pussy. They were each menaces on their own, but somehow sharing your body like this didn’t make their egos clash – they cooperated. It was only a matter of time until they figured out something kinky to do with Crocodile’s sand powers, and then you’d be truly fucked.

You were losing yourself in the salty taste of Crocodile’s cock, the thickness of it stretching your mouth almost painfully while your nose repeatedly brushed against his neatly groomed pubes. Slowly forcing your head up and down, never giving you more than a second to breathe. He was barely sweating, looking down at you with cold eyes as he puffed at the cigar hanging from his lips. A direct contrast to Doflamingo bullying your poor cunt and shoving your body forwards onto the other man’s lap with every thrust. 

A dry finger suddenly prodded at your asshole, causing you to choke around your boss’s cock. Crocodile clicked his tongue. “Two holes at once? You’re being greedy, Doffy.” His words were teasing, a wicked smirk on his scarred face while he continued ignoring your obvious protests. 

“You get to use her whenever you want. I think that’s pretty greedy.” The blonde frowned, continuing to insistently circle his fingertip around your rim. “Besides, I’m trying to do something nice for you. You can have her pussy, so I’ll take her ass.”

The dark-haired man exhaled a cloud of smoke. Without his hand holding you down, you pulled off of his dick with a lewd wet noise and spun your head to face Doflamingo. “W-wait… both… at the, ahh, same ti-ime…?” Your muddled mind tried to express your fear, knowing full well that neither of them would care. “C-can’t fit…”

“You don’t know that until you try,” Doflamingo replied with a twisted grin. Actually, he wasn’t sure why the three of you hadn’t tried it yet. Perhaps it had something to do with your size difference. Both men were unnaturally tall – the blonde often made fun of Crocodile for only being 8’4 – and their cocks were more than proportional. Each was longer than your forearm and practically matched the thickness. Your stomach felt close to bursting from just one. 

Looking to your boss for help, you silently pleaded for some hint of kindness inside the man. His cold glare and cruel smile granted you none.

At first, you had assumed Crocodile was the nicer of the two, that he felt some kind of sympathy and held regard for human life. You quickly realized in horror that they were two sides of the same sadistic coin. The same need for dominance, longing for powerful positions, and lack of hesitation to step on anyone below them for their own benefit. Sure, Doflamingo used his strings very inappropriately in the bedroom. But Crocodile had never taken off his hook during sex, resulting in a few ‘accidental’ fading cuts on your back and thighs. Doflamingo was very open about his madness, while the other kept it neatly buttoned up under silk dress shirts.

“Don’t worry,” Crocodile rubbed your cheek, feigning gentleness, before saying, “We’ll make them fit.”

You gulped, feeling very much like prey caught in a fatal trap.

Doflamingo stopped his thrusts with his cock deep inside you and sucked his pointer and middle fingers in his mouth, coating them with enough spit to not rip your hole. He would never be generous enough to use actual lube. 

He snickered when he caught Crocodile watching his movements and swirled his tongue teasingly around his digits. “Enjoying the view, baby?”

“I’m enjoying a break from that ridiculous smile of yours.” The other man replied smoothly. “Maybe I’ll use my fingers to shut you up the next time you say something irritating.”

“Your fingers are too rough,” the blonde pouted and shoved a long finger inside your asshole in one go, making you cry out and clench your fists. Neither man acknowledged your pained reaction, though you felt Doflamingo’s cock twitch excitedly inside you. “My mouth feels all sandy afterwards.”

Crocodile smirked to himself — he controlled every grain of sand in his body, so any bits left behind in Doflamingo’s mouth (or in his clothes, or the crevices of his body) was intentional. His gaze flickered down to you, grasping the base of his cock and timidly licking at his tip. “You can do better than that, slut.” You instantly swallowed it halfway, not daring to upset your boss.

The dark haired man let out a content sigh as he watched the beautiful scene in front of him. Your back glistened with a thin sheen of sweat and a giant red Doffy-shaped handprint still burned on your ass. The blonde’s pace had slowed down slightly so he could focus on preparing your asshole with no gentleness whatsoever. He used two digits to spread your hole wide, then spat directly inside it. You whimpered at the filthy feeling, sending pleasant vibrations through Crocodile’s cock. 

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Doflamingo swore, watching his saliva disappear inside you. “What a good little whore.” You unconsciously wiggled your hips at his praise. 

The more he pushed and prodded deep inside you, the harder it was to focus on pleasuring the cock in your mouth. Wordlessly, Crocodile placed his hook on the back of your neck, the sharp edge dangerously close to your throat. The message was clear – you immediately got to work, cheeks hollowing and sloppily drooling around his dick. 

Doflamingo nodded his chin at the heavy gold object. “You ever finger anyone with that glorified fish hook?” 

Your entire body went cold. Hopefully that wasn’t a suggestion.

“No, but you can be the first to try it out.” 

“Aww, Croc, you’re making me blush.” He didn’t seem even a tiny bit flustered.

Ignoring you was part of their sick game. Making you feel so incredibly small and unimportant. Nothing but a fleshlight for two of the most powerful men in the world to share while they bickered among themselves. 

Trying to regain their focus, you clenched your holes and moaned loudly. “Shh, darling,” Crocodile cooed mockingly. “The adults are talking.”

You hated how much that humiliation turned you on and made your core ache with need. 

“Well, she seems about ready.” Doflamingo chuckled, unceremoniously pulling out of your swollen pussy, his cock angry and red and shining with your juices. You fought to keep your lower half from collapsing to the bed. “How do you wanna do this?”

You looked up at Crocodile questioningly, not daring to take his dick out of your mouth yet. Your boss gently tugged at your hair and you raised your head, coughing and sputtering for air. You suddenly felt a shameful sense of emptiness – you missed having your holes stuffed full.

He stroked the back of your head as if you were his pet. “Any ideas, doll?”

It was the first time all night that they asked for your opinion, that you weren’t passively taking every bit of pleasure and pain that they graciously gave you. You gulped nervously, looking between both men. Doflamingo seemed especially excited to hear you pick your poison. 

“M-maybe… I could… sit in your laps?” You replied timidly, unsure if your input even mattered. 

“Is that a question or an answer?” Crocodile raised an eyebrow.

As calm and collected as both men seemed, you could tell they were growing impatient. Their cocks dripped precum and subtly twitched with need. You were desperate for stimulation, too, so you steeled your hazy mind and nodded resolutely. “I want to sit in your laps. Feel you both so deep inside me. I… I might go crazy if you don’t fuck me.” You turned to Doflamingo, batted your eyes innocently, and added, “I’ll be good for you, I promise.”

The blonde threw his head back and moaned exaggeratedly. “Fuck, baby, you’re straight out of my wet dreams. Why don’t you visit Dressrosa sometime?”

“Don’t get any ideas,” Crocodile gave the man a hard glare, helping your shaky body into a sitting position. “She’s mine. The best secretary I’ve had in years.”

Doflamingo cackled. “I forgot she’s your fucking employee! There’s no way you two actually get any work done. I bet I can open any file cabinet in your office and find cum stains on those papers.”

“Open anything in my office and I’ll throw you in my Sea Prism Stone cell.”

You rolled your eyes as you maneuvered yourself into Crocodile’s lap, using his shoulders for support as you straddled his slightly spread thighs. Their twisted flirting was seemingly endless. Couldn’t they have picked a better time?

“Don’t get bratty, darling,” he snickered and quickly slapped your breast, making you yelp in surprise. “Unless you can’t survive another minute without our dicks inside you.”

You nodded and bit your lip, feeling your juices trickle out of your hole and drop down your leg. “Please, sir, I need you. Need you both.” Crocodile hummed in satisfaction – he had trained you so well. He pressed an intoxicating open-mouthed kiss to your jaw and simultaneously twisted your nipple. 

“Starting without me isn’t fair.” Doflamingo grumbled petulantly as he shuffled into place behind you. It took a few tries until he found a way to comfortably tangle his hairy legs around Crocodile’s, their pelvises almost pressed together and his massive cock smacking against your spine. The blonde bit your earlobe and laughed when you flinched.

Your fists clenched onto Crocodile’s smooth fur jacket, breasts flush against his muscular pecs, while soft and wispy feathers grazed your back and sent ticklish shivers down your spine. The air felt electric with anticipation and excitement and pure unadulterated lust. Your body might hate you the next morning for this — no, you’d feel the aftermath of their desire for at least a few days. But at that moment, you needed your holes stuffed full more than you needed oxygen. 

With a shaky breath, you stood on your knees, their long cocks still barely fitting underneath you. Doflamingo tapped the crown of his dick against your rim before holding it steady. They waited with bated breath for you to sink down.

Two Warlords were inside you.

You felt like your body was ripping in half. And yet the pain made you even wetter, a debauched moan spilling from your lips and eyes rolling back into your skull. Both men simultaneously groaned in satisfaction, an angelic choir of devils singing your praise. Being on top gave you a refreshing sense of control… one that didn’t last very long.

Crocodile’s hand settled on your hip to gently coax you down, while Doflamingo pressed hard on your shoulders. When it was finally too much and your body refused to take any more – not even halfway down their massive lengths – tight strings wound around your thighs and forced you down the rest of the way. You cried out in anguish, speared on their massive cocks.

Thankfully, the two men let you adjust once you had their entire lengths inside you and rested in their laps. You shuddered in their hold, trying your best to calm your rapid heartbeat. Perhaps there was a hint of kindness in their decision, but it was more likely for their own benefit. A broken toy was no fun to play with and they weren’t even close to being done with you. 

Crocodile reclined against the bed’s headboard and let out a low whistle. “Fuck,” he swore in a gravelly voice, eyes half-lidded and seemingly hypnotized. “You are so fucking full.” 

You looked down in perverted fascination to see your stomach bulging unnaturally, almost making you appear pregnant. He ran his hand over the well-defined outline of his cock and you felt it twitch inside you excitedly.

“What? No fair, you’re hogging the view. Let me see.” Doflamingo pouted, leaning over your shoulder. He giggled ferociously at the sight. “Oh, that’s sexy as hell.” The hand that wasn’t manipulating his strings joined Crocodile’s to rub over your bulging belly, applying pressure to your womb and making you keen. “That feels good, huh? You like when we force our way inside your tight little holes and rearrange your guts?”

Your face burned red at his filthy words but you nodded rapidly. Your boss frowned and pinched your clit, causing wetness to pool in your eyes. “I thought I taught you to use your words.”

“Y-Yes, sir, I love it.” Doflamingo’s long tongue snaked out to lap away the single teardrop running down your cheek. 

“So obedient.” He nuzzled into your neck almost affectionately. “So good for us.”

Moments like this made you question what your relationship with them was. Sure, you were definitely more of a prized possession than a romantic partner, but maybe you possessed them in a different way. You would never voice that thought aloud, but it’s what prevented you from quitting your job, getting the hell out of Alabasta, and finding an actual partner and decent life somewhere else. They could have anyone in the world they desired, but Crocodile hadn’t been with anyone besides Doflamingo and you since the first time he fucked you on his office desk, much too horny to try to seduce you back to his bedroom.

And while you didn’t know what the other Warlord got up to in his own kingdom, at the very least, he always came back for more. Doflamingo could tell vicious lies dripping with sugar like no one else, but part of you hoped there was some truth in calling you gorgeous and perfect and his good little whore. 

You knew you were probably deluding yourself, but Doflamingo’s warm mouth sucking marks into your throat and Crocodile’s palm rubbing over your stomach soothingly made your heart ache and veins burn.

“Alright, enough. Let’s get started.” The blonde used his powers to raise your body slowly, revealing their cocks glistening with your juices. 

“No strings,” Crocodile interrupted, but added with a smirk, “Yet. Let her do it herself for now.”

Doflamingo licked his lips and leaned back on his hands leisurely. His strings loosened but didn’t disappear. “Show me what you’ve got, puppet.” 

This was a test. There would be hell to pay if you failed, though you weren’t sure if passing was humanly possible. You continued to rise up at the pace Doflamingo’s strings had set, inch by delicious inch rubbing against your walls until only the tips were inside you. “You’re both so big,” you bit your lip seductively. “I feel so empty without your dicks.”

Then you quickly sank back down to the base, knocking the air out of your lungs. Head flying back to rest on the blonde man’s feather-coated shoulder. Crocodile’s cock kissed your cervix as Doflamingo’s bullied its way inside your asshole deeper than anything was meant to go. 

You repeated the motion again and again, doing your best to clench your holes tight and take their entire lengths every time. 

“This is getting boring,” the blonde rolled his eyes impatiently. A subtle twitch of his fingers forced you onto your knees then slammed you back down to their laps, their balls slapping against your sensitive skin. You were too overwhelmed to even comprehend what happened, but the man continued to manipulate your body at a brutal pace. 

“Much better.” Crocodile agreed, taking in your blank expression and glazed-over eyes. Your mind completely shut off, focused on receiving every bit of carnal pleasure that the two Warlords graciously gave you. You were completely under their control and at their mercy. Your boss cooed at you mockingly. “Poor girl. There’s not a thought in that pretty little head of yours, huh, doll?”

Your silence answered his question so perfectly that he didn’t even punish you for not responding. 

“She fucking loves it. Look at her drool.” Doflamingo grabbed your chin and forced you to face him. He delighted in your debauched expression, tongue lolling out of your mouth, before leaning back and slapping your ass. Your body spasmed around their cocks. 

The blonde used his strings to hold you down as far as possible, admiring the bulge in your stomach again with a sick grin. You hardly noticed it — you hardly noticed anything at this point. Then he ripped Crocodile’s lit cigar from the corner of his mouth and haphazardly threw it across the room. Miraculously, nothing caught on fire. 

“That was expensive.” Crocodile snarled. 

“I don’t care about your fucking tobacco.” Doflamingo grabbed the other man’s slicked-back hair and slammed their lips together in a hungry kiss that was all teeth and tongue. You watched dazedly as they licked at each other’s mouths like feral animals. Matching each other’s intensity and fighting to maintain their dominance. With his free hand, the blonde groped your breast, squeezing it in his large palm before rolling your nipple between his fingers. 

The men pulled away, panting heavily from the intense kiss. A thick string of saliva kept their lips connected. Doflamingo broke it by swiping his tongue across Crocodile’s reddened bottom lip. 

“Let’s get her pregnant, Croc. I want her tits swollen with milk so I can suck them dry.” You felt a shiver run through your entire body. What a terrifying, deranged, yet tempting thought. You didn’t dare voice your thoughts, but the blonde still felt your ass clench around his cock. He cackled and roughly tugged at your nipple. “I think our little girl likes that idea.”

Crocodile’s dark eyes turned to you. “Consider yourself lucky that he’s not in your pussy.” As if he was wearing a condom himself. As if he even owned condoms. 

Doflamingo suddenly leaned forward and knocked you down with his weight, causing you and Crocodile to fall like dominos. The dark-haired man was almost flat on his back and you were crushed between their bodies, breasts uncomfortably squished against your boss’s fleshy chest. A cloud of pink feathers suddenly encompassed you, hanging loosely from the blonde’s shoulders and fully caging you in. Now that he was on top, he released the strings from around your thighs. Doflamingo gave a particularly harsh thrust forward and you yelped, the change in angle hitting an extra sensitive part of you. Crocodile’s cock insistently pressed against your g-spot.

The blonde placed his hand softly on Crocodile’s cheek, caressing the sharp line of his jaw. Very out of place, very unlike Doffy. But when he pulled away, a single thin thread followed his fingertip like a spider weaving a web. 

“Get this fucking thing off of me.” The dark-haired man growled, grabbing at where it attached to his jaw in vain. Panic raced through your mind — you didn’t want to literally be in the middle of their fight. But Crocodile didn’t seem truly angry, more annoyed that this happened again. 

“I’ll be nice,” he chuckled menacingly. He slowly moved his pointer finger in a come-hither motion and Crocodile’s hips followed the same upwards path, pushing his cock even further inside you. “See? Just wanted to take the lead.”

Doflamingo immediately resumed his inhuman pace, pistoning in and out and making your ass cheeks jiggle from the impact. One hand mimicked marionette motions as he manipulated Crocodile into mirroring his speed and ferocity, and the other held your hip firmly in place. He perfectly timed their thrusts so they pulled out and pushed in at the same exact time, knocking the air out of your lungs and setting your core on fire.

As godly as both men appeared, they were still very much human and rapidly approaching their orgasms. Your boss’s chest heaved underneath you, eyelids fluttering shut and pink dusting his cheeks. Doflamingo panted like a wild beast, letting out breathy, excited giggles at the sight of his two pretty puppets. A few stray feathers had fallen off his coat which landed in Crocodile’s messy hair and clung to your sticky skin. The overwhelming need to possess and consume both of you made the blonde’s head spin. 

You raised your head from where it was buried in your Crocodile’s chest, now covered in a puddle of your drool. “Please, s-sirs, I need-“ You were interrupted by Doflamingo deftly rubbing your neglected clit in tight circles. You choked on your words, looking at your boss pleadingly. 

“You may cum, darling.” Crocodile offered you a merciful smile. 

Stars flashed before your eyes and you swore you ascended to heaven, every nerve in your body tingling and toes curling tightly as you cried out the names of your saviors, before you came crashing down to earth with an unabashed and sinful drawn-out moan. Moments after that bright white light washed over you, thick white cum exploded in both of your holes as the Warlords cried out simultaneously. Doflamingo kept Crocodile’s hips flush against your body as his heavy balls stuffed you full and only lowered them when he had let out his final spurts. 

“Fuck.” The blonde’s breath caught in his throat as he watched his cum spill out around his length, dripping out of your ass onto Crocodile’s dick underneath. You had never felt so used, so filthy, and fuck did it feel incredible. 

The dark-haired man felt your heart beating rapidly against him and noticed you slowly slip into darkness, your consciousness fading. “Stay with us, doll.” He stroked your hair and ran his rough thumb over your cheek. 

You smiled, dazed and dopey. “Th… thank you…”

“Taking everything we give you and thanking us after… absolutely fucking perfect.” Doflamingo breathed heavily. You wailed from sensitivity as he pulled his cock out of your abused hole and the man beneath you followed suit. More globs of cum dripped out of your pussy and ass and spilled onto Crocodile’s fur coat sprawled out beneath him. Doflamingo giggled in delight. “Better wash that for him tomorrow, little girl.”

“She’s a secretary, not a servant.” Crocodile rolled his eyes, knowing that anyone in a position lower than Doffy’s was interchangeable to him. He swiped two fingers down the cleft of your ass, collecting sticky strings of cum and making your oversensitive body jolt. “But good girls clean up their messes, right?”

You obediently sucked his fingers clean, swirling your tongue around his digits and moaning like a whore at the salty taste of their mixed semen. 

Doflamingo untangled his body from yours and reclined back with a satisfied sigh. “When’s round two?”

Your eyes nearly popped out of your skull, but Crocodile spoke before you could protest — his words held more weight than yours, after all. “That was round four for her. It’s a miracle that your dick hasn’t killed someone yet.”

“Fine, I’ll wait.” He pouted like a spoiled child. “But don’t go soft on me, Croc. You’re the only one who’s fun enough to share toys with.”

Crocodile rolled you off of his chest none too gently, but thankfully, you had a plush blanket and padded mattress to land upon. “If we’re both ready to go, why not do a round without her?” His predatory gaze met yours. “I’m sure she would love to watch.”

[cyborgfranky]

Sleep On My Heart - Chapter 1

pairing: law x any!reader

Part of you was beginning to think your captain hated you. It wouldn’t surprise you, Penguin and Shachi did a lot of talking on your behalf to get you on board. You understood, at first.

The watchful glare that was almost always on your back and the scrutiny when you messed up. It was all there, but it disappeared a week ago. You took it as a sign of trust, and it was a large relief to know he wouldn’t be breathing down your neck at all times.

But being avoided like the plague was much, much, worse. He never looked at you, spoke around you, and that was when he had to be around. Cooped up in his office is where his time was “well spent”. Now it just seemed petty, he had started to request his crew during the day to ask their opinion. About what? You had no idea. Even Penguin’s big mouth didn’t slip a word.

It was clear he was purposely excluding you, and it hurt . He respected and cared for everyone else, but you were just a stranger in the submarine. It was getting harder to distract yourself from it, even hanging out with Penguin didn’t help you feel less like an outsider.

“What an asshole.” You blurt out, staring at the jolly roger on your uniform.

Penguin looks at you like a dying hamster.

You cough and smile, “Not you, sorry.”

He sighs in relief, “Did Shachi steal your towel again?” (He knows Shachi did, and he helped.)

You shake your head, “Not today.”

“Then who-?” (He was more so asking himself who put it back.)

You groan, running a comb through your hair. “He’s being a total child.” You say with a pout.

“Oh .” Penguin knows now exactly who you’re talking about.

“There’s nothing wrong with being wary but–” You roll your eyes, “It’s been three months for Christ's sake!” You slam the comb down on the table.

Penguin laughs nervously, “Well, if you want to talk to him about that, a little birdie told me he’s going to be alone in his office in an hour.” He flashes you a quick thumbs-up and scoots out of the room, he does not want to get involved with that.

With an hour to kill, you decide on studying. It was why you joined his crew after all, your dream to become a great doctor and travel the world. Only you’d hoped Law would mentor you, there wasn’t anyone as good as him, not across all four oceans. Instead, you were stuck with a pile of books and the looming need for combat training.

Hopefully you’d get some sort of teaching from him, otherwise you’d die of boredom. Or asphyxiation from being trapped in a bright yellow hunk of metal for weeks. Either way, thinking about talking to him was making choking on carbon dioxide look a lot more attractive.

You knock, firm and clear, but it sort of hurts your knuckles since the door is made of special grade steel. You hear his black heeled shoes clicking on the floor before the door opens.

He stares at you, and you quickly realize he’s waiting for you to state your business. You were only a little caught up looking at the scar engraved in his hand on the door.

“I need to speak with you.” You’re proud of how polite you sound, despite how irritated you are.

“I’m busy.” He says and begins to close the fifty-pound door like it weighed nothing.

You let out a groan and force your way in. “I said I’m busy.” He mutters, a frown taking over his features.

“Law,” You open your book and point at a page, “I’m curious why you highlighted this Subacute Osteomyelitis ?” It was a brilliant way to start this conversation.

His whole body stiffens and you swear a look of utter terror crosses his features for a split second. “Why do you have my book?” He asks through grit teeth.

“Well, you never bother to teach me anything at all.” Your voice trembles a bit, and you feel the burn in your eyes as you try to maintain the appropriate level of sass. “Do you hate me or something? You avoid me like I’m some sort of ghost.”

He seems to regain his composure and shakes his head with a breath. “I don’t hate you– it’s… complicated. I’m sorry, I’ll call you in tomorrow–for a lesson.” He gives a tight-lipped smile and opens the door for you, forcing you to leave.

While it left you with more questions than answers, relief still washes over you in gentle waves. Stepping out, you turn to thank him but the door is already shut.

The next morning, you’re awoken by a sharp knock. You yawn and get up, grumbling about how early it is. It’s Law. He looks considerably more tired than you, but tells you to get ready.

You oblige, pulling on the slightly fashionable crew sweatsuit. He leads you to the empty mat room, and you half expect for him to have you meditate. It’s dawn, a great time for inner healing!

“I hope you haven’t forgotten we’re pirates.” He says, and sets his feathered shawl in the corner. Much to your surprise, he begins to unbutton his shirt, leaving him in his white tank top that hugs his body. Your eyes settle on the tattoo poking out and snaking towards his collarbone. “What do you do if a patient has a stab wound?”

Penguin stumbles in, dramatically faking a wound in his chest. You catch him before he falls and set him on the ground. Keeping your focus, you reply “Well, it depends on the severity but in most cases I’d use gauze to stop the bleeding before I check if they need surgery.” You play along with the scenario, putting pressure where the fake blood is coming from Penguin.

Before you can even look at your mentor, he has you pulled against his chest with his sword against your neck. The heat of his body makes the cold steel feel so much colder. “Wrong.” He hissed in your ear, then let you fall to the ground.

He’s a lot more intimidating looking down on you, his glare like ice.

“Who gave him that wound?” He starts, “Are they still around? Will they hurt you?” He walks to the door. “ Those are the first things that should be on your mind. Don’t forget it.”

He slams the door shut behind him and Penguin stands up. “That was intense!” He squeals, stretching his arms above his head. “Boss told me to train you in fighting until you can beat me!”

“And then he’ll actually teach me?” You deadpan, glaring at the door.

“What good is a dead doctor?” He questions back.

Law was right, and it’s seriously pissing you off.

Penguin slides up next to you and whispers, “By the way, how was my acting?”

chapter 2

[deadlymistletoe]

Moonlit Misery

Pairing: Killian Jones/Captain Hook x Reader

Request: @notalizard asked: Killian Jones x GN! Reader but they have a a son who is stuck on pans island (pre curse) and they are both angsting about potentially never getting him back together

Genre: Angst

Description: On the anniversary of being separated from your beloved son by the devil known as Peter Pan, you and Killian despair under the moonlight with thoughts of your failure.

Warnings: mentions of manipulation; peter pan

Word Count: 1262

You glanced up from your spot where you sat on the edge of the pier, legs dangling in the air when the familiar footsteps stopped beside you and leather rustled as your husband sat down beside you, swinging his own legs over the dark ocean below.

The moon cast a gentle light over the water, its reflection moving with the swirl of the water and you raised an eyebrow as its reflection glinted off the bottle of rum the dark-haired pirate held in his hand.

“Really?” You questioned, watching as he used his teeth to pull the cork, dropping it from his teeth to the side. Normally you’d find the move incredibly attractive, and he’d accompany it with a suggestive wink. Not tonight though. Instead he only shrugged, the tiny, crooked smile he gave you forced and full of pain.

“Now, love, surely you’ve worked out by now that bemoaning over our loss isn’t complete without a bit of rum to sip depressingly at. Ruins the image.” Even as he held out the bottle to you, the spark in his eyes that usually accompanied his quips was gone, the blue that mirrored the ocean below dark and blank, void of life or happiness.

You sighed, taking the offered bottle and taking a long sip, grimacing only slightly at the flavour - you’d never been a massive fan of rum, but tasting it on Killian’s lips so often over the years had gotten you used to it. Besides, he was right. The two of you may as well fit the image.

Said image had become a yearly occurrence for the two of you ever since that fateful night. The rest of the crew knew well enough to keep away, and to keep others away by now. They also knew never to speak a word of it: both the yearly routine and the event that it was the anniversary of. Instead you would only receive sad glances you hardly noticed as the two of you stumbled back onto the Jolly Roger in the morning, slightly tipsy, slightly hungover and ready to ignore the event for another year.

But for tonight the fake ignorance was gone, the raw truth that weighed on both your hearts loud and clear.

“Do you think we’ll ever get him back?” You murmured as Killian finished taking his own swig of the drink.

You heard the sigh more than you saw it as he stared at the drink in his hand. “I hope so,” He answered, but you could both feel the worry between you that his hope would never be any more than just that: a hopeful wish that would never come true.

The truth was, the likelihood of getting back your son was very unlikely. The likelihood of getting him back unscathed was almost non–existent.

The absolute devil known as Peter Pan would make sure of that. Years ago, when he had sucked your son into his circle of lost children with fake acts of kindness and sincerity, none of you had known what you’d been about to lose. Not you, not Killian, not the crew who also adored your son, and not your son himself. The truth was, you didn’t even know if your son saw it as a loss.

A young boy of 11, he had been captivated by Pan and his charm and promises. Peter used that to his advantage to keep the boy drawn in, so there was no telling what Pan had told your son about the absence of his parents. Neither of you said it, but the worst fear of both you and your husband was that Peter had poisoned your beloved boy’s mind with lies of his family abandoning him.

It had haunted you ever since that even if you could get your son back he wouldn’t want to leave the so-called ‘family’ made up of lost boys.

What had started out as a tentative alliance - particularly when your son had taken an interest in Pan - had ended when the devil refused to let you take your son off shore after a venture through the island after he found out you intended on leaving, the alliance turning forced as he kept your son hidden and away from you, taunting the two of you with stories of how happy your only child was without you - how he had found a real family that didn’t steal and plunder for a living - as he used threats of the 11 year old’s safety as a way to keep both you and the rest of the crew of the Jolly Roger in check, doing his bidding.

This continued, pieces of you and Killian’s hearts chipping away as time continued to go by until Pan struck the final blow; giving you the option to finally leave the cursed island and its waters, only without your son. The ‘option’ had ended up being an order, and the night after Killian turned down the offer with a few choice words the lost boys went into action, forcing Killian to turn the boat away from the island lest more of his crew fall victim to the ruthless children, the lost boys chasing you until you passed the barrier and it shut behind you, casting you back into the waters of your own realm with no way back in, cursed to age and die while your son stayed young with Peter for eternity.

The only signs of what had transpired had been the youth of those who had been there along with the absence of your son and the dead and wounded bodies on your ship.

Now you leaned into the welcomed warmth as Killian put the bottle aside, wrapping his arm tightly around your shoulder and pulling you into him. You swallowed tightly, staring out at the dark sea.

“This is our fault.” You muttered. “We never should have risked taking him to that damn island, let alone the realm in the first place.”

You felt Killian’s fingers tighten on your shoulder as you uttered the same regrets you did every year. This time though, Killian pulled his arm away, turning your head to look at him, fingers lightly on your chin. Determination hardened his features. “This was not our fault. We didn’t know what would happen. And I swear to you and the gods, we will get our son back, however long it takes - whatever condition he is in - and we will be a family again.”

You swallowed once more, taking in the steely glint in his eyes that replaced the blankness. “What changed since last year? What makes you so sure?”

“What changed is that I won’t let us keep suffering like this. I won’t let that devil keep our family apart to prove a point.” He glanced at the water before looking back at you. “I am a very patient man, and mark my words, sooner or later we will get him back if I have to bargain with the Dark One himself.”

You pulled Killian’s arm around you again, leaning into him as you picked up the rum to take a last sip. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, yeah?”

When dawn came and the two of you stepped back onto the planks that made the deck of your home, the crew took note of the difference from previous years; the new determination in both of your gaits and the hope that burned in your traded glances.

It was in silent agreement that the crew would do whatever they could to get your son home again.

A/N: I am open to writing a sequel at one point set in S3 where they reunite with their son if enough people are interested, so let me know if you are.

Everything Taglist

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[tiredflowercrown]

So I don't know if anyone knows this already or wants to know. Buuuuuuuut

Pirate Postions Explained

Using the pirate crews as my examples

Captain:

When most people think of pirates, they think of a Captain and a First Mate. The captain however isn't an automatic position, it's an elected one; with the only time they have absolute power being in combat or chasing someone. Any other time they could be overruled by a majority vote.

In terms of the Isle, this means both Harriet and Uma were put into power by those around them who have no reason to remove them from said seat. Uma because all of her crew would die for her in a heartbeat. Harriet because despite all her anger and problems, she's good at what she does. (and no one wants to put up with the amount of bs that she does)

First Mate:

First Mates typically didn't exist on pirate ships, instead being a term for navy or commercial ships as the captain's apprentice or right hand. Pirate ships had a quartermaster instead fill that position.

However, Captain James Hook started as a navel officer not a pirate, so his ships had a bit more in common with structuring with navy than other pirate ships. His children followed his lead with how they set up their respective crews. Harriet making Sammy her right hand. Harry making himself Uma's.

Quartermaster:

The quartermaster, in the absence of a first mate, is the next highest ranked position. Often being the one that pirates went to with problems, disagreements, or requests. When not in combat, they held the exact same authority as the captain. As the name suggests, they were in charge of making sure everyone's living quarters was figured out as well as managing food and water supplies.

Harriet, having known him her whole life and trusting his abilities, chose Big Murph as her quartermaster to use both him and Sammy to even out her temperament. Uma went with the most stable and friendly person on the crew, Gil, who everyone agrees was needed to be objective in terms of Harry and other issues.

Master Gunner:

The master gunner is a bit what it sounds like, they are the person in charge of cannons and overall combat if the captain is unavailable for that specific task.

Harriet chose Jade for her quick and out of the box thinking, she can quickly spot a weak point in order to disable a ship. Uma chose Ivy because one way or another, Ivy was going to be using the cannons; might as well teach her and let her be in charge of them.

Medic/Surgeons:

A pirate ship typically didn't have a trained medical practitioner at all. If they did have one, it was because they pressed them into service.

The Isle, however, doesn't have any trained medics. Everyone is just figuring it out from discarded books, stories, and practical experience. Harriet chose Mayra due to her force of will and cool head when it came to people being hurt. Uma chose Bonny because she was the daughter of the Jolly Roger's surgeon, and had a semblance of medical training in that aspect.

Boatswain:

Boatswain are junior officers who reported back directly to either the captain or quartermaster. They made sure the ship was in top shape, keeping track of any damage, making sure the deck is being swabbed, and other small but necessary tasks. They also were the one who would typically lead parties ashore to restock or find materials for repairs.

Harriet chose Diego to keep him close to her because he is very good at keeping track of multiple projects and activities all at once. Uma chose Desiree because of her attention to detail.

Cook/General Positions:

A cook was typically just a random crew member who had been put in charge, this along with other general positions would have been decided by one's talents or other skills.

Harry Badun was chosen via straws for the position of cook, he hasn't done a bad job so why remove him. Claudine was chosen due to her both working in her father's shop and consistently being the only cook in that house. Desiree fills in as cook when Claudine is incapacitated (or banned.)

Hope you might have learned something!

[lootsofathousandsworld]

Life of a Pirate Chpt 8

Here's another chapter for you all! :D

Hope you like it and sorry if grammers are wonky.

Warning a small hint of anxiety

    After an hour or two of rest, I was up and about. After eating a quick snack, which its the bread, I was relieved my stomach wasn't sick anymore thanks to the medicine.  

Making my way up the deck to continue my chores, I find Billy waiting for me. I bite my lips to see him walking over to me. About the time he came, he asked.

"Feeling well, lass?"  

I nod slightly. "Yes, sir. It was just an enteriumn sickness?" 

After my reply, he hums. "I thought so, many pirates and spacers tend to get this sick. Mostly when it's their first time.

My eyes widen to hear that last part. "Their first time?" 

"Aye," Billy pulls his cigar out with a lighter." I swallowed. Not knowing this sick was pretty much a way of saying it's your first time going on a voyage. Felt my worrying coming, I asked another question. 

"So does that also mean...even let's say.. spacers go on many voyages, they tend to get sick?"  

"Aye?" After Billy blew smoke out, he looked at me now puzzled by my act. "Something wrong, cabin girl?"

"Nothing!" I gasped, almost making my voice loud. "I-I mean nothing, sir. I was um, wondering that's all." He looked at me long and I forced myself to make a smile, hoping that'll somehow distract him.   

Soon Billy frowned and said. "Wipe that grin off yer face. Get back to your work and I don't want any more accidents you hear?"    

"Yes sir," I nodded fast and didn't hesitate to pass him. While he wasn't looking, my hand was on my chest to ease my heart which was beating rapidly.  

"It's alright," I muttered to myself. "You shouldn't be worrying about this. Your overreacting. It'll be okay," I took a couple of breaths before heading over to do my work. 

Third person POV

After watching her walk away fast, he raised his eyebrow in suspicious. The way the woman tensed after he mentioned the sickness. And that smile she made was something every man does when they feel guilty over something.   

"Now why would be feeling guilty over being sick?" He muttered before inhaling his cigar.   

Ash POV

After finishing my work. I took this opportunity to relax until Billy assigned me to do another job. So I casually walk and scan my surroundings. It honestly feels a little strange to walk on the ship. In the movie, it was all broken down with hoards of gold.  

This time era is not, instead, the ship is in good fair condition. And I find it now hard to remember what this ship was like when it was shipwrecked. Then I passed the crewmen who were like me taking a small break.   

I had my head down to avoid their gaze but I caught a glimpse of a monkey alien giving me a death glare. Guess he didn't let go of the grudge about his pants. Swallowing, I walked fast until I didn't see them anymore.  

Sighing heavily, slowing my walk, I stop at the edge of the ship. I looked out beyond the galaxy and couldn't help to smile. Since I've been staying on a ship. I didn't get a chance on good glance out at the wonders of the universe.  

It was breathtaking. The enteriumn universe is beautiful. I couldn't get my head around how I'm able to breathe in space. And it was my lifelong dream of seeing the galaxy up close. I sighed and followed my gaze up until I saw the red sails along the black pirate flag being carried by the wind.  

I stared at the Jolly Roger flag. Where it towers over the ship and gives full appearance to its mortal enemy. The more I looked at it, the more I felt my fear of how long I could keep my secret hidden. While being surrounded by gruesome pirates under the order of Flint.    

With this much worrying I tore away from it. Rubbing my arms, I sigh heavily. "I wish the merchant ship comes soon,"  

"Hi, Ashy!" I gasped in startle and turned around to find B.E.N beside me.  

'Oh you scared me," I said. I watch him rub his robotic back neck. 

"Didn't mean to scare you, I just want to see how are you doing," He smiled sheepishly. "I heard you weren't feeling well," 

I nodded. "Yeah but I'm better now," I smiled a little, kind of glad he was here to talk to. Wanting to keep this conservation going I asked him.  

"So are you on your break?"  

He shook his head. "Eh not really, the only I can come out only if Captain Flint is out with me." I looked over his shoulder and sure it was his Captain was standing by the helm with the other pirate that was steering. 

"Oh, I see," I gulped and glanced back at him. "He doesn't give you much freedom?" 

He shook his head, "He only does if I fetch him something." I look at him with sympathy, I couldn't imagine how horrible it feels to be trapped under him. Being watched over like a hawk. 

"I'm sorry," That's all I can say. Then B.E.N made a laugh.

"Sorry? Dont be. At least I'm feeling safe, no men would dare to take me away."  

Like how Flint did. I thought as I recall, he stole him away from his former owner or his own free will. Whatever it is, I find this unfair he has to suffer this for more years until 100 is up. He didn't deserve this. He should be out enjoying life.    

Then B.E.N clears his throat. "So Ash I wanna ask you something,"

"Yes?" I question.  

"Are you really from Montressor?"  

I blinked but felt uneasy. "Um, yes? Why you ask?" I wish I'd taken back my ask that my face grew pale when he told me this.

"Well one member, Pew admits you weren't from there." 

"What?" I asked

"He has this powerful scent where he can sense a person's location. He caught your smell and...he says you're not from that planet."   

B.E.N finishes, looking at me with a hurt expression. "Ash, why did you lie to me about where you come from?" My breath was shaken and I caught my glimpse over his head on Billy walking up to Flint. My heart was pounding hard as I watched him speaking to his Captain about something. 

My mind was already set on him talking about me. The way he says on my acting earlier. Right when Flint turned to where I was I froze for a second. I glance back at B.E.N as he waits for his answer.  

Feeling much terrified I back a little. "I-I need to do some dishes," I spun and ran to the gallery. 

"Ash?!" I heard B.E.N shout with confusion. "Ashy wait!" I didn't listen as I splint down the gallery.

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

As I made it I clenched my head and was breathing rapidly.  

"Keep it together!" I muttered under my breath. "H-he doesn't know anything." I pace back and forth to calm myself. 

"Ash!" I perked up and saw B.E.N with a worried look. "Ashy what's wrong? Did I say something to make you upset?" 

"No you didn't do anything," I breathed. "I just.." I shut my eyes and finished. "I just want to get out of here," I sat on the bench. I felt him sitting beside me and my face was planted on the floor. Unable to look at him.  

"I know it's scary to live on his ship but I promise once you get used to it like me it won't be bad.." He tries to reassure me it'll be okay but I clench my teeth and interrupt him. 

"I don't belong here!" He was taken aback by my voice raising. Feeling my heart sank at his expression I let out a sharp sigh. 

"Please B.E.N try to understand I can't live here. Pirate's life is not for me. I want to go home,"   

"I understand," B.E.N sighed. "Everyone has a different taste," He looked down. "And I thought this was my chance to have a best friend on board." My heart felt heavier at his words. Feeling like a bitch as if I'm ditching him for selfish reasons.    

Then I made this decision to tell him the truth. I felt he had a right to know why I was desperate to leave. 

"B.E.N, I do want to be your friend really. I'm sorry I lied to you." He turned his head to me and I smiled at him sadly " The reason is that I wasn't sure you could be trusted but you proved me wrong. "

"But you can trust me," He replied. "I'm good at keeping secrets, 

I nodded. "I know, that's why..."I stop when we hear a man shouting from out of the gallery. 

"Captain! Merchant ships straight ahead!" My eyes lit up and I looked at B.E.N with my heart beating with happiness. "It's here. I'm going home."   

"You are," He looks down glumly. Before I get up to leave I hug him. He gasped in surprised as I spoke gently.

"I promise we'll see each other again. I will never forget you," Slowly I felt him returning my embrace.  

He tries not to break the tears he says. "Then I hope I'll see you soon Ash." I let my arms free and he gave me his sad smile.   

"I'll see you soon too friend," I give him the same expression for a second and with that, I left the gallery. 

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

When I got out, I saw men running and preparing but I didn't pay attention to them. Right now, my paraly is coming to an end and my freedom is this close.   

I found Flint still up with the helm I came up to him. As I reached him, his eyes were set on his men. 

"Captain our bargain?" I reminded him. "Remember you promise no plundering while I aboard the ship?" I watch his facial unfazed. Slowly he turned to me and I felt uneasy the way he looked at me. 

"They're a bit of change lass," 

Not like the way he says it. I asked quietly. "What do you mean?"   

"I mean is about your little paraly. I'm breaking the deal." My eyes widen to hear this, and he finishes it with his eyes glowed. 

"Yer staying on my ship. This is your home now," 

[giant-bean]

I see some similarities but I don't see either standing against order, civilization or goodness itself. Pirates had one of the worlds first democracies, workmen's comp, and profit share. They had a great deal of order in the way they ran things. Many pirates where also land owners with pigs and chickens and wives to come home to after being out to sea; sharing time with LGBTQ ship mates. They accepted one another's goodness as they stood not against it but against corrupt powers trying to tell them what goodness and civilization was. They stood against kings and religions that would force them to be slaves of a faulty system and other then true to them selves. (Now, I concede your point here and understand that I may be arguing semantics but stick with me.) Sure, they would murder and plunder and cut a living captains heart out and hold it up for the survivors to see so that those survivors would tell the tale of how fiendish and crazy they where. They would pull out eyeballs and kill ~95% of a crew leaving a few witnesses. They left the witnesses of brutality knowing the message would be spread and the next time they ran up the black flag it was more likely the merchant vessel in their sights would surrender saving the pirates trouble and reducing possible injury or death. It was a scare tactic. Also the "Jolly Roger" was not originally the scull and cross bone on black cloth but a bright red flag likely deriving its name from the French “ jolie rouge ,” meaning "pretty red.” When flying the red flag it meant the pirates would take no quarter and they would fight and kill everyone (Save a few witnesses). The more commonly flown flag that came to be know as a Jolly Roger was the black flag with different adornments such as the scull and crossbones; flying it meant the pirates would take quarter and allow you to surrender. They flew this flag far more often as it was less dangerous and allowed the pirates to get the goods with minimal violence. Fairly civilized for the times actually. Crews voted on everything (mutiny was bloody on navel vessels not pirate ships). If Captains made more then an equal share they never made more then three times that of the lowest crew member, and shares where first removed to provide for any injured prior to dividing the rest of the spoils amongst the crew. How is that anti order, civilization, or goodness? (Again I concede the above murder and obvious theft is far from befitting of the argued terms but these people often saw themselves as at war with a society that had tossed them out for being different and they where products of a different time where such barbarism was not seen as so very uncivilized.) As a strait man with a bisexual wife, a non-binary child and a transgender child I don't see them standing against order civilization or goodness. I see them standing strongly for actual civilization and goodness instead of feigned approximations that would take away the rights and urban comforts of a minority. They may be against the current order and false righteousness as the pirates of old but they are flying a flag of acceptance and offering quarter to any who will accept it.

Reblog if you stand against order, civilization, and goodness itself

[never-rpg]

YOU’RE ALWAYS SO CERTAIN YOU’RE RIGHT ABOUT ME. DO I REALLY DESERVE THIS? GUESS I SERVED MY PURPOSE BUT YOU’RE USELESS TO ME. DO I MAKE YOU NERVOUS?

Isadora is the most capable of being vicious and cruel out of all of Hook’s pirate crew. She was brought to the island by Peter Pan. He had hoped that Isadora would fill the void created by Wendy’s return to the Other Place. Isadora was so wild and full of fire, he was so sure she would be even better than Wendy had been. He was sure she would love the freedom the island gave her, understand the wild savagery of it and rejoice. But Peter Pan was arrogant and presumptuous. Isadora held no romantic feelings for him or the way of the Lost Boys. She knew a cage when she saw one.

During Isadora’s time in the Other Place, she had been raised to fear and respect God. Her mother never let her miss a sermon and stressed how important they were for her spiritual well-being. When they weren’t inside the church, her mother worked at a brothel of the desolate, crime-ridden port they called home. To survive, Isadora had to have a fair bit of grit. Before coming to the blood-thirsty island of Neverland, she’d already killed two men and maimed countless others who just wouldn’t keep their hands to themselves. Each time a man tried to take advantage of her, her defensive reactions became more and more visceral until they could hardly be considered ‘defensive’ due to the shocking violence. The rage at the injustice and entitled behavior set her off like nothing else. One man was blinded by her fingers plunging into his skull, another’s face forever disfigured by the blunt force of a rock. It’s no wonder she didn’t take kindly to Peter Pan’s motivations and instead found a place amongst the more honorable and honest crew of the Jolly Roger.

CONNECTIONS

✘ PETER: scornful of, taunts/mocks despite being afraid ✘ BILL JUKES: kindred spirit, close ( platonically/romantically utps) ✘ ENTIRE CREW: brothers-in-arms, mutual respect  ✘ LOST BOYS: pities them, thinks them fools

FACE CLAIM IS UTP | OPEN

[carewyncromwell]

“When you're all alone, far away from home, There's a gift the angels send When you're alone... Everyday must end, but the night's a friend -- Angels always send a star When you're alone... At night, when I'm alone, I lie awake and wonder --  Which of them belongs to me? Which one, I wonder...?”

~“When You’re Alone (cover)” by Jess Anderson

x~x~x~x

previous part (with more context) here! // full tag here! // original concept of Duncan Ashe in this universe inspired by conversations with @ag907​

x~x~x~x

Now, one must keep in mind, Merula was truly not a terrible person. She wasn’t even a terrible fairy. But what she ended up doing to Carewyn and by extension Orion was objectively pretty spiteful, so some context is necessary. And that context begins with the introduction of a new player in this tale -- the helmsman of the Jolly Roger, who was known by Neverland’s residents as the Pirate Without Pirate Eyes. The name he answered to was Ashe. 

Ashe was the second newest addition to the Jolly Roger’s crew. As such, he still remembered his home of London, or at least pieces of it. He remembered living with many other boys there and hating it quite a lot. He remembered a lot of locked doors and dead bodies being carried out. And he remembered first arriving in Neverland, as a young man -- of catching sight of the Jolly Roger’s outline in the clouds one night through his window and running out into the street so he could cry out to it in the black of night for it to take him away. (He was far more a young man than a mere boy at that time, but he had been very feverish, and his mind had not been clear enough for his common sense to put down such childish fancies.) And that was how Ashe was conscripted into a life of piracy aboard the Jolly Roger, beside the magical island of Neverland, where its residents never fell ill and never grew old. 

It was a pretty decent arrangement for Ashe, all things considered. And that arrangement improved when his employer, Captain Hook, brought another new crewmate aboard -- one exactly Ashe’s age, sixteen. This crewmate was called Jack, though in the beginning, he insisted there was more to that name. 

“My name is Jacob!” Jack had snarled at Hook, when he tried and failed to pull out of Blaise and Pearl’s combined hold. “Jacob Evan Cromwell! And I will never work for the likes of you!”

Jack was worn down soon enough, though. Hook was very good at pinpointing a person’s weaknesses and exploiting them, and soon enough the captain determined that Jack’s was fear -- not for himself, but for his loved ones. A certain loved one in particular usually kept Jack in line.

“Obey me,” Hook whispered in such an effortlessly icy tone, it was like he was Frost incarnate, “or I shall find sweet Winnie, and force her to obey instead.”

“Winnie.” Jack often called her simply “Wyn,” but Ashe had heard plenty about her second-hand through Hook and Jack. She was Jack’s little sister, and too good to be true, from the sound of it -- sweet, brave, and caring, with a voice like a cherub and a heart too big for her tiny frame to contain. Jack clearly thought the world of his little sister, and Hook -- whether to twist the knife in Jack further or out of pure sadism -- seemed to relish the thought of having her in his grip as well, to do with as he pleased. And that thought was something Jack dreaded -- dreaded so much that he actually fraternized with the enemy, Orion Amari.

When Ashe had woken up to find Jack sneaking off the Jolly Roger and covertly followed him, he came across his fellow pirate speaking to Orion in the woods. And what Ashe heard was like a club to the back of his head.

“...She’s younger than me – much younger, with ginger hair – small and sweet as a cherub. She’s brave and sharp and she sings like a bird...”

Ashe's eyebrows knit tightly over his eyes. Jack’s sister? Why would he tell Orion Amari about -- ?

“She’d fit right in with your sort – no one would have any idea she has anything to do with me. Just…spirit her away, like Hook did me. Take her with you, and keep her safe here, in Neverland. She doesn’t need to know I’m here, or even why you took her, just…just keep her away from Hook. Please.”

Ashe felt like all of the color had left his face.

“Keep her away from Hook?” No...no, Jack couldn’t be serious -- he couldn’t actually be trying to sabotage the Captain -- 

“And what will you give me in return?” Orion Amari’s boyish voice was very soft and calculating in his response. For however hard to read his overall affect was, he was clearly interested.

Part of Ashe wanted to just bolt from the trees at that very moment -- grab onto Jack and pull him back away from the Flying Boy, shout him down angrily, scold him fiercely -- stop him from making whatever deal with Devil he thought was so bloody important that he’d --

But Jack’s response made Ashe’s heart still just as much as he physically had, as he strained to listen. 

“Anything. Anything.”

The desperation of Jack’s voice in that moment flooded Ashe’s veins with an emotion he’d never known before. It chilled him from head to toe, while also lashing at his insides like some terrible poison. It made him hunch in on himself, staring at the ground, as Jack and Orion’s voices faded away into nothing but an indiscernible buzzing hum. 

Jack...would do anything, for his little sister. Anything to make sure she didn’t become a pirate the way Hook clearly wanted her to be -- anything to keep her away from him. Even if Jack himself was a pirate, even if Ashe was a pirate and liked being a pirate...the thought of his little sister being one was something Jack couldn’t bear. He saw his fate as so unbearable...that he was willing to do anything to make sure his little sister didn’t share it...

Ashe had known Jack had been taken to Neverland against his will -- of course he knew that. Jack had rebelled against Hook more than enough to make that clear. But Jack had started to forget the world outside Neverland, as everyone eventually does -- he’d resigned himself to the position he was now in, he’d accepted it. It had encouraged Ashe, that Jack had started to forget -- Jack always seemed happier, when he was able to forget...and really, he made for an excellent pirate! He was endlessly curious about things -- brilliant, dynamic -- excitable about seemingly tiny, insignificant things. It bewildered Ashe to no end, but it was also oddly endearing. He’d never known anyone like Jack before...he’d never felt for anyone, the way he had Jack. Even now he’d long forgotten or cared about who he was before, Ashe knew this, down to his bones. 

And yet...his sister, his “Wyn”...kept Jack tethered. She was the line that kept him from flying free, off into the atmosphere, free from grief and loss and sorrow and pain. She was someone...who he couldn’t forget.

Unable to handle the ball of jealousy, sorrow, and conflict rotating sickeningly inside of him, Ashe swiftly left, pushing roughly through the tall leaves and bushes out of the forest and back toward the Jolly Roger.

Ashe didn’t speak to Jack for about a week. He couldn’t. Jack had betrayed the pirate captain they both served, and yet Ashe couldn’t even fathom the idea of reporting what he’d done to Hook. Jack was the only person on the Jolly Roger who was Ashe’s age and, more important, the only person Ashe really liked. Pearl was the muscle and firepower, devoid of just about any compassion for anyone else, while Claire was the “yes-man” who probably had more water in her head than a brain...and the First Mate, Blaise, was just as manipulative as Hook in his “caring” for the crew, but with a hotter temper. For all of Jack’s own faults -- his own violent temper, when provoked, and how much of an airhead blabbermouth he could be -- he had this driving instinct to help more than hurt, to do more good than bad...to sacrifice...put himself in the line of fire, for those he felt something for...

Ashe spoke to Jack again after he’d had to pick him, Hook, Pearl, Blaise, and Claire from Marooner’s Rock. He’d scolded Jack for quite a while for putting so much strain on his broken leg. 

“For Pete’s sake,” he muttered irritably, “pain doesn’t even exist here in Neverland, unless you dwell on it -- ”

“You expect me to forget that Hook broke my leg?” said Jack. 

“You’ll heal faster if you just let Neverland’s magic do its work,” Ashe shot back.

"Hardly! Neverland’s magic is to make you forget, not undo anything...otherwise Hook’s hand would’ve just popped right back to life after getting eaten by the Croc, wouldn’t it have? So, by that logic, the most Neverland would do is just make me forget what happened and forget that it’s supposed to hurt -- no injury can just go poof into the ether, not without a proper splint and bandaging and -- ”

“Put a sock in it!” snapped Ashe. “Ugh -- just...stop overthinking everything!”

Despite his waspishness, Ashe still changed Jack’s bandages and tightly rebound his wound.

Fortunately within a few weeks, Jack had forgotten about Hook breaking his leg. Kind of hard not to, when the life of a pirate involved so much routine -- trimming the sails, swabbing the decks, sailing around the island, chasing Lost Kids, almost killing Orion Amari for the eightieth time -- that it was easy to forget little things like that. Within those few weeks, Jack even returned to the self Ashe had become accustomed to -- angry and rebellious toward Hook, sure, but delighted by Neverland and its beauty. At one point Ashe had even actually managed to capture a fairy, and Jack had spent an entire evening studying it and its wings with an almost reverent glee.

“Just look at the length of this forewing, Ashe!” he said, perfectly ignorant of how much the fairy struggled to try to get free. “Even if it’s so much like a butterfly’s, it’s so perfectly clear, like a dragonfly’s, and yet long and pointed, more like a cicada’s...and that sheen! Like it’s made of some sheer diamond! And the dust!”

He gave the fairy a little shake, so as to collect a handful of the dust that came up off the wings and grind it through his fingers like sand.

“It just dissolves away, into the skin! It evaporates -- like snow melting in your hand...”

Something flickered in his pirate-like blue eyes as he smiled.

“Snow...”

The flicker grew a little stronger as he stared at the dust slowly fading into his rubbing fingers. 

Ashe’s own dry smile faded.

“Jack?”

But Jack didn’t seem to hear him. Something melancholy seemed to pass over his face, peeling the boyish smile slowly from his face. 

“Think of Christmas...think of snow...think of sleigh bells...off you...go...”

His eyes grew a little wider, more aware. In an instant he’d released the fairy, and the frightened, furious little creature flapped away, back toward the mainland.

“Jack!” said Ashe, looking upset and irritated. He’d worked hard to catch that! 

But Jack didn’t seem to care. He’d clearly come back down to Earth -- and as he stared out at the island of Neverland, his pirate-like blue eyes rippled with anguish that he nonetheless fiercely tried to hold in. 

“...I forgot,” he murmured.

“Well, of course you did,” Ashe scolded him lightly. “Everyone forgets, Jack.”

But Jack didn’t answer. He instead kept his gaze on the mainland, his eyes drifting off into the high trees. 

Ashe frowned deeply. He looked from Jack’s shoulder to up at his face and back.

“Jack,” he said lowly, “maybe you should forget.”

“No,” said Jack stubbornly.

“Neverland is supposed to make you forget!” Ashe challenged him. “It’s supposed to be a place where you can forget the past -- forget the world of mortal men. It’s supposed to be a place where your wildest dreams come true...”

Steadying his courage, Ashe took hold of Jack’s shoulder. 

“You were happy until just a few seconds ago,” he said very lowly. “Is it so bad to just be happy?”

Jack pulled out of Ashe’s grip and walked over to the far railing. “You don’t understand.”

This response and withdrawal only served to make Ashe flush with anger. “You’re right, Jack, I don’t!”

Ashe pursued Jack across the deck, grabbing onto the railing as he came around to look at him better, even as Jack faced the sea and not him. 

“Jack, I know what this is about,” he said fiercely. “I know this is about ‘Wyn,’ your -- your saintly little bugger of a sister -- ”

An acidic lump formed in Ashe’s throat at the thought.

“ -- but she’s -- she’s lost to you! You’re never going to see her again, all right? You don’t want her here -- you don’t want her to be a pirate -- ”

Jack closed his eyes and turned away, but Ashe strutted harshly around, so as to look him in the face again. 

“So just -- just FORGET her!” Ashe implored him. “Forget her, and start over, here, in Neverland!”

Jack turned away again and didn’t answer. It made Ashe come around Jack a second time and hold his shoulders in place, trying even harder to get him to look at him. 

“Why would you even want to be anywhere else?” Ashe asked him, his lips turning up in a weak, beseeching smile. “Here, you’re free! You never have to worry or take anyone else’s burdens on as your own! You never have to care about what other people think of you, who you are or what you like – ”

Images of unfamiliar, disgusted, condescending faces -- of punches and distorted, swearing voices -- rippled over Ashe’s mind. He blinked them away at once. 

“-- you can just be you, fully you, and nobody else!”

Jack wordlessly pulled out of Ashe’s grip with seemingly little effort. Ashe chased him across the deck.

“You can go on grand adventures,” Ashe persisted, “explore things no one else has ever seen!”

He sped up, looping around in front of Jack to stop him from walking past him. 

“You never have to get sick, grow old, or die,” said Ashe, his eyes flashing with both aggravation and desperation. “You never have to grieve or feel pain again!”

He grabbed onto Jack’s arms, his hands squeezing tight. 

“You can live, Jack,” he said earnestly. 

Jack finally opened his eyes and looked up at Ashe. The pirate-like blue glinted with such melancholy, and yet there were some odd cinders of resilience there.

“…Is that living, Ashe?” he said very softly.

Pulling one arm free of Ashe’s hold, he brandished it widely toward Neverland, across the railing. 

“Is it freedom, to run around chasing and scaring children in some petty game of revenge? To mindlessly obey the whims of our Captain, and never ask why?”

Ashe’s grip on Jacob’s remaining arm faltered. Before he could speak, however, Jack pressed on more insistently. 

“To kidnap people and spirit them away to a land where they forget everything of who they were and who they loved, for no other reason than just to add more members to our ranks?”

Jack strode back up to the railing, swinging his arms out theatrically wide as he whirled around back toward Ashe. 

“Is this life?!” he demanded, his blue eyes shining with emotion the likes of which Captain Hook’s could never know. “Being stuck as we are forever, separated from the entire rest of the world – doomed to never be more than we are right now?”

“It could be,” Ashe said lowly. “If you stay.” 

With me.

Jack stared at Ashe for a very long moment. His blue eyes pulsed with remorse, as well as something softer, almost...beseeching. Then, closing his eyes again, he turned away. 

“I am staying, Ashe,” he murmured. “Even if I did remember where I was from before, I could never hope to fly back there...I’m far too old for that...”

He rested his crossed arms on the railing and bowed his head. 

“...Without Wyn...” his voice barely came out as a whisper, “there’s no reason for me to go back anyway...”

Ashe stiffened up sharply. 

Had Jack even realized what he’d just said? That he’d basically admitted that Wyn was no longer in the Other World -- that she was, in fact, here, in Neverland...with Orion Amari and his Lost Kids? 

No...it seemed to have just been him thinking out loud. It was made much more obvious by just how quiet Jack got afterwards -- like he’d momentarily forgotten anyone else, even Ashe, was still there. 

He’d forgotten her...and yet now, remembering the pain of being apart from her...he’d forgotten all of the happiness and enthusiasm he’d felt, just moments before...

Ashe’s lips came together tightly as he watched Jack at the railing.

He would never be truly happy, so long as they were apart. Ashe could see it clearly now. Jack would never be able to forget his life before, so long as he was without the one thing that made him remember it -- his “Wyn.”

Gloom, resentment, and shame swirled through Ashe’s veins as he turned his back on Jack at last. As he walked away from Jack, right off the Jolly Roger, he tried to block out the sound of Jack’s melancholic, angelic Tenor voice dancing over the wind --

“And any star I choose watches over me,  So I know I'm not alone when I'm here on my own... Isn't that a wonder? When you're alone, you're not alone -- not really...alone...”

Meanwhile, on the mainland, the Lost Kids had finished unwrapping all of their “Christmas gifts.” Merula had as well, but she had left the proceedings a while ago -- a fact that nobody had really paid much mind to, at the time. 

At first everyone compared the pockets Carewyn had made for them -- then, at another point, they badgered Carewyn to tell them the story about Father Christmas (which ended up involving him befriending a penguin and facing off against an ice wizard at one point). Then mid-afternoon the Lost Kids set about playing with the new wooden crocodile Skye had made for Orion, pretending it was the real “Tick-Tock” crocodile and passing it to whomever was “It” in their game of tag. Orion at several points had to put a halt to the game whenever anyone got hurt, at which point Carewyn would wrap the injury up with some spare ribbon and the kid in question would completely forget about it and get back to playing. 

It was close to the evening when Carewyn was preparing everyone for bed that Bill reminded Carewyn and Orion of something very important.

“Leave all that stuff to me,” he told them with his arms crossed and his mouth spread into a proud smile. “You need to get ready to go out.”

Carewyn blinked. “Go out?”

Charlie’s eyes lit up as he realized what Bill was talking about. “Oh yeah! Mothers and Fathers always go out for a party on Christmas night, while Bill and I look after the others!”

“The others meaning us?” said Tonks brightly.

Bill frowned slightly. ���...I guess so...”

Before he could think on this too deeply, though, Charlie interrupted him. “It’s always fun! We pretend to go to sleep and then wake back up and eat sweets while Mum and Dad aren’t home...”

Carewyn put her hands on her hips. “Charlie!”

“Hey, it’s all in good fun!” laughed Charlie. “We also make our beds and clean up the kitchen nicely, so Mum won’t be mad...”

Carewyn still looked faintly disapproving, but when she caught Orion’s eye, she saw him smiling wryly.

“Well, then, if that’s what’s meant to be done on a proper Christmas...Bill, you’re in charge, until your ‘Mother’ and I get back.”

Bill straightened up with a bright grin and saluted. “Aye, aye, sir.”

And so Erika and Face Paint Kid helped Carewyn “get ready” to go out by helping her put on the new breastplate and belt Bill and Charlie had given her and fixing the tiny forget-me-not flowers the centaurs had given her in her hair. They really were just the same color as her eyes. 

Once Carewyn was ready, Orion -- his mouth spread into a very white, amused smile -- extended an arm for her to take and floated with her to the worn little tunnel that led to the surface. 

“Now, children, behave yourself while we’re out,” Carewyn said in a rather good imitation of a plump, red-haired woman she only vaguely remembered. “I’ve left you some spare ribbon by the armchair if you need it, Bill. And Charlie, eat your sweets and then tidy up the kitchen. That way you won’t have to clean it twice.”

“Yes, Mum,” Charlie teased. 

Bill was grinning broadly too, clearly just as amused by the game as anyone. “Have fun, you two!”

His grin broadening further, Orion then swept up into the air, pulling Carewyn along behind him.

Orion flew with Carewyn through the trees for a long way. At several points, Carewyn asked where they were going, only for Orion to quiet her with a finger beside his lips. At long last, after what felt like a half-hour, they reached a glade near the far south end of the island -- the home of the legendary Pixie Hollow.

This Hollow was the home of all Neverland fairies. Every tree therein sparkled with fine lines of gold and rainbow dust, for these trees were nourished by fairy dust the same way trees in our world drink water. Even the dew excreted from their branches glittered like gems. And at the center of all of these trees was the grandest and most beautiful of all of them -- the Great Tree, where the Queen of the Fairies reigned. And on this very night, the Fairies and their Queen were hosting a grand ball, so as to celebrate their newest arrivals. It was a ball that was thrown quite regularly, actually, but given how short one’s memory really was in Neverland, it always felt like a remarkable event. 

It was here, therefore, that Orion took Carewyn...and as he’d hoped, she was enamored with the sight. As the fairies flitted out from the tree, dancing through the air and singing a song as high and tinkling as bells, Carewyn gasped, her free hand flying to her mouth.

“Oh, Orion!” she breathed in delight. 

She gave his arm a squeeze, unable to express how in awe she was. When she looked at him, the fairies’ light danced in her pirate-like blue eyes.

Orion’s eyes softened just seeing the pure, girlish happiness in her face. She even seemed lighter, just floating beside him.

With a playful smile, he gave her a light push. With a laugh, Carewyn soared backwards, up higher into the air. She swept through the crowds of tiny dancing fairies with as much grace as a swan, her arms outstretched and her eyes closed. Her flushed face was spread into a bright grin as her ginger hair flapped into her face and she laughed. 

Freedom. This was what it had to be like, wasn’t it? To be completely free, weightless as a bird, with no worries, no cares? Free to be yourself, and only yourself, and have that be enough? 

“Don’t you know what Neverland truly is, Carewyn?” 

Carewyn felt someone bringing their arms around her. She opened her eyes again, to see Orion beaming from ear to ear at her.

“Freedom,” Orion’s words came back to Carewyn again, and it made her start to giggle happily. 

His black eyes sparkling, Orion twirled her around, mirroring the dancing fairies around them. The two danced a mid-air waltz as fine as any fairy, and all the while, they laughed more fully and happily than either of them could remember. 

Playing pretend and doing silly things, all without care of anyone else or what they might think -- just enjoying time together, just the two of them, connecting and laughing and enjoying each other’s smiles...

This was fun. It was so much fun...

Little did Carewyn and Orion know they were being watched -- nor that the two sets of eyes were so close together. 

One set of eyes were tiny and pink and narrowed with suspicion as they darted from Carewyn and Orion to the owner of the other set of eyes, who she’d spotted leaving the Jolly Roger and promptly decided to follow. 

This second set of eyes were brown and sharp-lidded -- rather unusual for the likes of a pirate -- and were fixed squarely on Carewyn as she floated around Orion in mid-air.

Could that be her? Ashe thought to himself suspiciously.

His hand lingered on the pistol on his belt, but he remained hidden in the tall leaves. He had no idea if Orion had any reinforcements, aside from the fairies, who most certainly would all tag-team against him, if he attacked Orion in the middle of their Hollow. And truthfully, he had no interest in hurting Wyn, if this girl was her. 

Carewyn and Orion were still both laughing as they soared up higher above the Great Tree. Orion led Carewyn down onto one of the tall branches, “escorting” her down it before she gave another large leap, and they soared around in circles through the air. 

Finally the two had to catch their breath, slowing down to a more leisurely, dreamy rotation as the fairies likewise started to slow-dance.

“...Ha...ha...this is...” Carewyn giggled. 

“Fun?” finished Orion.

“Yes!” Carewyn said eagerly.

Orion’s face broke out into a smile so huge, his glittery black eyes had to crinkle up to make room for them. Carewyn beamed brightly -- then, abruptly, she’d thrown her arms around Orion in a hug. 

The gesture startled Orion noticeably. 

“Thank you,” Carewyn said, grinning over his shoulder as she squeezed him tightly. “Thank you, for this -- it’s...it’s all so magical!”

When she pulled away, Orion looked at her with an oddly confused expression. Putting it together quickly, Carewyn immediately lost her smile and blushed a bit self-consciously.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I...just wanted to give you a hug, that’s all,” she said sheepishly. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable...”

Orion shook his head. 

“I was not uncomfortable,” he said at once, his voice almost mellowly stoic. “It’s just unfamiliar to me is all.”

Carewyn’s eyes softened. “...I thought so.”

Orion blinked.

“Well, it’s just...you said the Lost Kids were like us...that they didn’t have parents. ...That you don’t have parents.”

Carewyn looked up at Orion, her blue eyes warmer and more empathetic than Hook’s could ever be.

“So I thought...you must get pretty lonely sometimes too...even with the Lost Kids, and the mermaids, and the fairies and the centaurs keeping you company. I suppose that’s why Celestina said you’ve cried so much...”

Orion’s expression was very unreadable. Carewyn bit her lip, but she fixed him with a rather determined expression, before she threw her arms around him in another hug with such force that they floated through the crowds of dancing fairies again. 

“It’s not right, that you feel lonely,” Carewyn said as she clung onto Orion. “With how many people care about you...you should never have to cry alone.”

The two drifted in several leisurely circles in mid-air. Orion’s arms lingered awkwardly in mid-air on either side of her for a good chunk of the time -- then, slowly, as Carewyn made as if to pull back at last, he rested his hands on her shoulders, tilting his head so as to look at her from below curiously. 

“...It’s so interesting.”

Carewyn raised her eyebrows. “What?”

“How generous you are. You’ve given the mermaids your songs, the centaurs a blanket...the Lost Kids baubles and stories and pockets and warm milk. You’ve given me a handshake, and now not one, but two hugs.”

He smiled, his eyes crinkling up a bit more fondly. 

“...You give so much, and yet hardly take.”

And this from a girl with the eyes of a pirate. How unlike a pirate Carewyn Cromwell truly was!

Carewyn shrugged off this compliment as easily as she might’ve shrugged off a cool evening breeze. “Well, you give quite a lot too, you know.”

“Do I?” asked Orion. 

“Of course!” said Carewyn, as if it were obvious. “You look after everyone here in Neverland -- the Lost Kids, the centaurs, the mermaids, the fairies...you protect all of them from the pirates, and you don’t ever seem the least bit afraid.”

Orion cocked his eyebrows amusedly. “Fear is a thing that drags you down. No one could fly, locked in those chains...and I fly higher than all others.”

“Higher than my ‘standards,’ you mean?” said Carewyn with a laugh. 

“Sky high and further still,” Orion said proudly. 

Carewyn giggled harder. “To the stars, beyond the blue!”

As she laughed, though, something flittered to life behind her eyes.

“...Up you go with a height and ho...to the stars, beyond the blue...”

Her smile seemed to dim. 

“There’s a Neverland...waiting for you...”

Orion blinked, startled, down at her hands -- he could feel some weight through them. 

“Carewyn?” he said softly. 

“...Where all your happy dreams...come...”

She was falling now. A flash of concern shot through Orion as he brought his hands up as if to take hold of Carewyn’s shoulders. 

“Carewyn -- ”

He flinched back, however, seeing the tears that had overtaken her wide, bright blue eyes. For a second, they hovered over them like rippling diamond dew -- then they overflowed and streaked down her cheeks in multiple lines.

“I’ve...I’ve lost him,” she whispered.

Orion’s eyebrows furrowed. “Carewyn...”

“I’ve lost him,” Carewyn repeated again, her voice audibly distraught. “I’ve lost him -- his face, his name -- I’ve lost him!”

Orion’s eyes rippled with dismay as he watched Carewyn. She was crumpling in on herself as she drifted slowly back down to the ground.

“Come back -- come back, please -- ”

“Carewyn -- ”

Orion flew down after her, throwing out his arms as if to catch her. When he extended his arms, however, Carewyn clutched onto them tightly with her hands, clinging to Orion as she cried harder.

“I can’t -- ” she choked. “I can’t lose him again -- not my brother -- I can’t forget my brother -- I can’t!”

Orion didn’t know what to do, in the face of Carewyn’s tears. His arms lingered helplessly on either side of her, not knowing quite how to give her a hug the way she had moments ago.

“Carewyn...” he whispered, as Carewyn only sobbed harder. “Carewyn...it’s okay...”

“No,” Carewyn moaned. “I forgot him -- I forgot -- how could I forget him!?”

“We all forget, Carewyn,” Orion said gently. 

Carewyn’s head shot up abruptly. Her tear-soaked eyes were very wide upon Orion’s face. 

“That’s part of what Neverland is,” he murmured. “It wants you to forget your pain -- leave behind your greatest sorrows, from that Other World. It wants you to be happy, and at peace...be young and free, forever.”

Carewyn stared at Orion. She stared and stared, even as her tears continued to fall and her feet met the ground. Orion himself even ended back on solid ground, bending down to be more on her level, as he tried to comfort her.

“There’s nothing back there for you, Carewyn,” he said softly. “Everything you’ve ever wanted and needed is here. Adventure, excitement -- freedom -- a family of children just as lost and alone as you...every dream you’ve ever known and many you’ve yet to know...”

Carewyn turned her wide, teary eyes down to her feet, unable to look at Orion. His black eyes grew a little smaller as he took a step closer to her.

“You belong here, Carewyn. With us. The Lost Kids. We’ll protect you. We’ll take care of you, forever -- and you can take care of us.” 

He hesitantly brought an arm up along her back and rested a hand in her hair, trying to give her a hug in return. 

“...Forget him, and be happy,” he said very quietly. 

Carewyn’s eyes flooded with fresh tears. All of a sudden, she’d pushed herself out of Orion’s arms. 

“NO!”

Orion was so startled he couldn’t summon any kind of verbal defense before Carewyn ripped into him. 

“I WON’T FORGET JACOB! I WON’T, I WON’T!”

Her blue eyes flared with righteous anger. It made Orion visibly falter.

“Carewyn...” he whispered.

“NO!” she screamed louder still. “YOU CANNOT MAKE ME!”

“It’s not me that’ll do it,” Orion said, and his voice in contrast became softer and softer. “Everyone forgets, Carewyn.”

“NEVER!” Carewyn shouted. “I’LL NEVER FORGET HIM! NEVER, NEVER!” 

Orion was at a loss. 

“Why?” he challenged her at last, in a very quiet, yet oddly hard voice. “Why won’t you? Why will you hurt yourself like this, when you’ll be happy, once you’ve forgotten? When Neverland itself wants you to forget and be content?”

“BECAUSE HE’S MY BROTHER!” Carewyn shrieked back. “Because when I was alone and friendless, he was there! Because when I was scared and lonely, he was there! Because when Mum died and we were cold and hungry, he was there, and he would smile, and I would press on, because I had to be there for HIM! I only know who I am and how much good I can do, because of him -- because of Mum -- because of them -- !”

Her tears were streaming down her face harder than ever. 

“I don’t care how much it hurts -- I don’t care how much happier I’d be, if I forgot them forever and never cried again -- if I forgot Mum and Jacob, if I ever forgot them...I’d forget why I’m still here!” 

Orion was lost for words. Carewyn’s tears seemed so blackened with despair now -- and yet, sparkling silver and gold, all the same...

Silver for resilience...gold for courage...

“...Carewyn...”

Orion once again tried to give her a hug, but Carewyn was just unable to accept it. The sobbing little girl pushed out of Orion’s arms and ran right into the trees, leaving him alone in the shade of the glittering Great Tree. 

Ashe immediately set off after Carewyn -- Merula was about to chase after the pirate too, but the look on Orion’s face made her hesitate.

Orion stared after Carewyn for a long moment, his eyes darkening with displeasure -- almost something frustrated. 

This was not supposed to happen. She hadn’t been too old to fly, she had been able to fly -- she’d been able to fly as high as he did! She’d been happy, and free, and she’d loved it -- she’d been so happy, being free and flying, without a care in the world...she’d known that joy, she’d felt it, that joy he felt every time he flew amongst the fairies...

She’d...known what he felt...she’d known it! She’d known it in a way that none of his other Lost Kids did, that no one else had!

No one else...

Shadows of faces Orion had forgotten years, perhaps decades ago, flickered over his closed eyelids. Orion firmly closed his eyes, forcing back the emotions trying to leak through.

He thought...she’d understood...she said she thought he was lonely -- he thought she’d said that because she’d known what that was --

He thought...she’d stay...

The shadows of forgotten faces came back, rippling into the darkness of Orion’s eyelids, now moist with tears. Orion fiercely wiped them off on his glove, forcing them back.

Forget. Peace. Forget. 

In Orion’s abrupt movement to wipe the moisture from his eyes, the bauble that he’d tucked into his shirt the previous night came loose, rolling out through his sleeve and down onto the grass with a light flump. The contact with the group made the melancholic Tenor voice of Carewyn’s brother inside of it echo with fresh clarity -- 

“ -- mustn’t let them see me cry...I’m fine...I’m fine...”

Orion’s eyes shot open, flitting down to the silver-glinting bauble reflecting Jack’s pale face on the grass. Feeling a new wave of nausea and misery wash over him, Orion firmly turned his back on it and took off again, flying back toward Hangman’s Tree like some gloomy vulture. 

Rather than fly after Orion, however, Merula made that aforementioned spiteful choice. She picked up the bauble and flew off with it into the trees. 

Over the course of the next twenty minutes, Merula tapped the bauble several times, to make sure Jack’s voice sang the entire song multiple times. And sure enough, the song caught the ear of the still miserable and crying Carewyn -- as well as the ear of the pirate who Merula knew had been following her. And when Carewyn tried to get the bauble back from Merula, the fairy was able to lead her right into the Pirate Without Pirate Eyes’s path.

“Give that back, Merula -- give it -- !”

Carewyn froze, stock-still, at the sight of the pirate who she’d just about run into. Merula dropped the “bauble” at once right in front of Ashe, before darting off into the trees.

Ashe stared at Carewyn for little more than a few seconds. He’d long since determined who the girl was, but once he saw those eyes, he knew. They were Jack’s eyes -- Jack’s eyes, exactly. 

“You -- ”

Carewyn, for her part, wasn’t going to go without a fight. She immediately opened her mouth to scream -- when Ashe grabbed her covered her mouth, she bit down hard on his hand.

“OUCH!”

Carewyn then tried to kick him as hard as she could -- although she wasn’t particularly strong, her ability to fly had given her some height, which allowed her to wriggle enough to land a blow right to Ashe’s shin. The pirate winced, struggling to hold onto the little girl as he reached into his green suede coat.

“Sit still, will you!? Ugh -- !”

Finding what he’d been looking for, he snatched out a white handkerchief, which he then used to cover Carewyn’s nose and mouth. The little ginger girl screamed and writhed, trying frantically to get loose, but her mind was slowly dying -- her vision blackening --

“Sorry, lassie,” Ashe muttered in her ear. “You’ll thank me later...”

Carewyn kept lashing out desperately, her voice coming out as nothing more than a squeak as all of her strength dissipated and all consciousness left her. 

[cebwrites]

to love me (love me), to need me (need me)

dsfgsfdgdfg tender t4t mascs in love and bottom law 🥺💕💖

oc x canon, he/they law, nsfw under the cut [cw: oral, anal, choking, creampie] word count: 1k

It’s been a long week, with far more Strawhat shenanigans than Law can handle at any given time. Kirin, of course, ever sensitive to his partner’s moods, doesn’t need to so much as ask to know that he’s in for a hell of a night when he sees Law nursing what seemed to be their umpteenth headache of the day, avoiding rubber arms that swing past him to cling to his beleaguered lover who looks about ready to throw hands or collapse right then and there. 

So he finds himself here, late in the night, on his knees at Law’s service.

“Mmf, caf’faim~”

Law watches their lover with an inked hand gripped firmly in his hair, messily taking in as much of their cock as he could while Kirin traces a familiar path to his release, the Heart captain himself sits in his desk chair, one leg on the table to provide better access.

He doesn’t have time to chastise Kirin’s sloppy habits when the coil in their core tightens, prompting them to trust wildly into his mouth and against the fingers deep within him - it’s also then and there that Kirin decides to pull away, only wincing slightly at the forceful tug to his scalp, but the frustrated, needy fluster on Law’s face was more than enough of a consolation.

Law growls at him, quickly swapping their positions with a quick room and shambles so that he’d be in his chair instead, now positioning himself over the other captain’s cock while their own leaks a steady flow of seminal fluid against his chest.

“I thought you said it was my turn in charge tonight?” Kirin pouts, just barely keeping the smugness out of his voice.

“You’ll get your chance eventually, darling,”

The hiss in Law’s tone betrays the affectionate that nickname usually carries but they don’t linger on it for long, too focused on the carnal ache in his core as he slides onto Kirin’s waiting cock, equally as eager, they both groan in unison.

Feet against the arm rests and elbows leant on the desk behind him, Law grinds at a steady pace that gradually increases as they adjust to the pressure - Kirin leaves a trail of hickeys across the gorgeous skin of Law’s neck and collarbone, his mouth finds itself against the surgeon’s nipples, sucking and biting at the darkened nubs to coax his captain’s wonderful voice out for all (him and him alone) to hear.

Law takes his hand and puts it against their neck, Kirin’s eyes snap up to meet his, a little wider and swirling with uncertainty; a silent but clear, ‘are you sure?’

“Can you, sweetheart,” they huff, sending a covert plea through long lashes, “..for me?”

Well that settles things, then.

Kirin hooks his arms around the doctor’s legs and torso then lifts, still buried in him; walking them to the bed where he gently lays Law onto their back, relishes in the sweet squeeze when he reenters him. His hands trail over the tattoos on their chest - beautiful, intricate patterns that adorn dark skin - and it stops at his neck, once again making eye contact to ask for permission. It’s granted, easily, listlessly.

“Heart, you’re gorgeous... what did I do to deserve you?” Kirin leans in close to breathe against his ear, gravelly and warm, Law responds by pressing his hand firmer against their throat. Harder. Hiraishin is hesitant, always worried about hurting his lovers or going a step too far, but complies; the moan he’s rewarded with eases his worries almost instantaneously.

Nails polished black find themselves raking red paths down Kirin’s back and shoulders, pausing only where Law knew the tattoos on his biceps would be - he’d never mark those, even if seeing his own jolly roger there didn’t ignite a flame of desire so bright the smoke sometimes clouded their better judgement at times. They take a moment to admire it, tenderly rubbing their thumb against the ink despite the thunderous pace being pounded into his system. 

Kirin follows their line of sight and flushes a little, chuckling, he gives Law’s throat another squeeze, swallowing the wanton moan that comes after with a kiss. He slips his free hand between them, swiping his thumb over the slit of his lover’s weeping member, then the precum that’d pooled below, to taste him. Law huffs when the characteristic grin stretches over their partner’s smug face at the action.

“You’re obscene.”

“Mmyeah? I don’t hear you complaining, though.”

Law rolls his eyes, partially at the audacity, and partially because the other captain hit a particularly sensitive spot - hands of ‘DEATH’ fondle and tease the ample chest above him as Kirin’s slides back down to wrap around his cock - they both lean in for another heady, world-spinning kiss; needn’t be said that they’re close, they know without announcement. They chase the peaks of their climaxes together, getting lost in the sounds of each other’s pleasure, skin on skin, their own, then-- ribbons of white paint the space between captains, the space between Law, too.

Kirin’s vision swims, he’s already halfway off to dreamland when Law rolls him onto his back, lazily kissing the place on their neck where his hand once was, he gives them a raised eyebrow and a questioning look through heavy-lidded eyes; Law raises both of theirs at him in return, fishing around for the spare lube in their night stand.

“What, you didn’t think I was satisfied yet, did you?”

“But you,, we already came--” Kirin turns to lay on his side cutely, bringing out his best set of puppy eyes he could manage while fucked out and glazed with cum. It’s questionable at best. Law scoffs, smirking at the undignified squawk his boyfriend lets out when they smack his exposed rump. 

“And? Ass in the air, darling-ya, it’s your turn.”

It was, in fact, one hell of a night on the Polar Tang for this silly little rabbit.

[charlotte-headcanons]

How would the Charlotte siblings react to one of their siblings being kidnapped by a force much more imposing to them than the Straw Hats? Like for example, saying they received in the mail a picture of Amande, someone really strong, all beaten up and tied and gagged, and it was clearly from the Beast Pirates, probably their most dangerous rivals. Who would want an all-out rescue war, who’d suggest a stealth rescue, who’d try and negotiate for her return, who’d just give up on her, etc.?

Hi there! Ah yes, y'all really want us to write more violence, huh 🤣😉 well, happy to oblige! Reactions below 💕

CW: Kidnapping, violence, torture/murder

If you hurt a family member, there is no negotiation with the Charlottes. No matter how much of an imposing force is behind the kidnapping, something like this is an offense to all of them, and it gets them livid. There are no thought-through reactions or calm negotiations. There is war, with all of Totto Land's manpower and resources thrown into it. If that imposing force was the Beast Pirates? Well, they don't need many excuses to attack those anyway, the animosity is pretty damn strong already-

Still, there would be some who would advocate a more open war, those who'd prefer stealth methods, and those who'd see humiliating the enemy as the best punishment!

The open war option - charging in guns blazing and demanding that the family member is given back or else - would be preferred by people like Daifuku, Oven, or Cracker. Linlin too would go outright ballistic and probably not plan much before rushing to attack the enemy and slay without mercy. Even if it was a child that she doesn't much like (e.g. Chiffon before her betrayal), kidnapping her babies would be an insult: in her mind, only she has the right to hurt the more disappointing children sometimes.

Trying to quiet down the fiery sentiments and not barge in without a plan, Mont D'Or would probably come up with and attempt to execute a swift and stealthy rescue + revenge. Within it, he'd prioritize rescuing the kidnapped sibling, and unlike some, he'd realize that an open war could be a simple way to put them in danger. Instead, he'd probably engage Brulee and Katakuri - the other two siblings that'd prefer stealth - as a duo sent out for a rescue-and-revenge mission. With Brulee's powers, the two could get into the enemy's base, with Katakuri's foresight they could successfully avoid being spotted. Effectively, in Mont D'Or's plan they'd be supposed to get in, rescue the kidnapped sibling, then kidnap someone else important to the enemy's crew, and get out. In a very passive-aggressive manner, Mont D'Or would then make sure to send out a photo of the kidnapped person looking exactly like the one they've been sent before. Then, they would prepare for a war, and hope that the enemy is going to be pissed enough to come to Totto - the territory within which they would be at a significant strategic disadvantage.

Those who'd support Mont D'Or's plan but would add their own twist to it would include, for instance, Perospero. He would satiate his anger by engaging in not just violence but also humiliating the enemy publically: contacting the news to make sure the whole feud is well-documented, openly mocking the enemy for the world to see, and doing stuff like branding Mama's Jolly Roger on the kidnapped enemy.

No one in the family would even consider the possibility of giving up on a kidnapped sibling. Even those who hated the particular sibling would be insulted by the kidnapping, and thus, they'd be just as ferocious in their revenge, albeit perhaps less focused on the rescue and more on the retribution itself.

Now, if the sibling was only kidnapped but without the beating up and bruising - that's a whole different case. In such a scenario, Mont D'Or could actually go for negotiations, trying to win the sibling back without exhausting their forces. It'd be the most logical choice, so he'd make a solid attempt - again, only so long as not a single scratch was left on the family member.

Overall, though, most Charlottes wouldn't even give a shit about how imposing the enemies are. Instead, they would only escalate the situation; especially since so many of them are so overconfident in their own abilities and the status of their mother!

Thank you for the ask 💕

[undercoveravenger]

A Pirate’s Life For Me

Creature Week 2020: Day Two

Pairing: Harry Hook x Siren!Male!Reader

Request: “Harry Hook rescued by a male!siren reader?” 

A/N: This is set in an AU where the villains were never trapped on the Isle, so Harry grew up on the Jolly Roger with his father.

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Harry had been working on his father’s ship practically since he’d been born, but in all that time he had never seen the typically crystalline waters of Neverland become this rough. He’d seen the Jolly Roger weather storms before. He’d smelled the salty sea air grow thick with the scent of rain and watched as the dark wooden planks of the deck speckled with the falling droplets of water. He’d seen the sails billow and tear when the winds came ripping through more suddenly than the crew had been prepared for.

This was no normal storm though. The sails were being shredded up on the masts, the wind was thrashing the tail ends of the rigging around like whips and no one had been able to pull them in. Harry had abandoned his previous post almost immediately when he realized just how bad the storm was getting and did his best to help mitigate the damage.

He’d barely managed to reel in one of the flailing lengths of rope and get it tied down when he found himself slammed into by a wayward boom, the thick beam uncontrollable since the vicious winds had torn through the sail. The force knocked him from his feet and sent him plummeting over the ship’s railing and into the freezing water below.

Harry flailed, trying in vain to flounder his way to the surface but only succeeding in tiring himself out. The weight of his heavy leather coat and the sword and scabbard strapped to his hip dragged him further beneath the frigid waves as they soaked in water.

His movements had started to slow and his vision was going dark when he’d first seen it. A dark figure had flitted past him, barely discernible from the black depths around him. Then he’d felt the thickly-muscled tail brush against the back of one of his legs and, as his consciousness finally slipped away from him, Harry hoped that he would drown before the siren chose to do more than observe him.

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

When Harry had woken up and found himself lying on the sun-warmed sand of an unfamiliar beach, he had been sure that this must have been the afterlife. The burning ache of his ribs where he’d been struck by the beam during the storm when he tried to sit up had been enough to convince him that the events of the previous night had really happened.

He forced himself to sit up quickly, ignoring the pain from his bruised chest in favor of attempting to identify his surroundings. He was sure that this was not the main island of Neverland, but it also had a very different appearance than any of the smaller surrounding islands that he had been to. He supposed that the ship could have drifted during the storm, but he doubted that they’d made it into a previously uncharted archipelago. But then, how had he ended up here? 

The last thing Harry had known, he had been drowning and the ship had been far enough from land to have made washing up on some beach nearly impossible.

“Oh good,” came the sound of an unfamiliar voice. “You were out so long I was starting to wonder if I hadn’t gotten to you in time.”

Harry wheeled around at the sound of the stranger’s voice, eyes widening as he locked eyes with the most attractive guy he’d ever seen. The stranger was laying in the water on his stomach with his chin propped up on his hands, seemingly undisturbed by the freezing temperature of the water as waves crashed up over the bare skin of his back and shoulders. Harry forced himself not to linger on the stranger’s shirtlessness, instead shifting his attention to the damp waves of thick (h/c) hair falling over captivating (e/c) eyes and the alluring smile he was being offered.

Harry swallowed sharply, suddenly struggling to remember how speaking worked, “You? You were the one who saved me?”

The (h/c) nodded, shoulders straightening proudly, “Yeah, I was swimming nearby and saw you fall off your ship.” He ducked his head, looking almost abashed, “My sisters told me that it was what you deserved, but I didn’t agree so I dove after you.” 

“Your family wanted you to let me drown…?” Harry wasn’t exactly sure what sort of people would want to let someone drown, but he had the distinct impression that he probably wouldn’t like his savior’s family.

He shrugged, rolling over onto his back so he could look up at the sky, “Wouldn’t be the first time. It’s kind of what we do.” At the baffled look on Harry’s face, the (h/c) let out a huff. Harry watched as the stranger shifted his weight back onto his shoulders a little, using the new leverage to lift his legs out of the water.

Except it wasn’t legs that emerged from the frothing waves. No, instead, the (h/c) lifted a huge, gleaming caudal fin from its previous place hidden under the water, droplets and rivulets trailing down the length of the tail toward where it merged with his torso. 

At first glance, Harry had assumed he was just one of the merpeople that lingered in Mermaid Lagoon, but he quickly noticed the distinctive differences. Merpeople had beautiful, elegant tails that came in a rainbow of shades more appropriate to showing off than for use in hunting. Sirens on the other hand? They were made to kill and one good look at the (h/c)’s tail had Harry convinced that he knew what he was dealing with.

His scales shone a brilliant emerald color and the myriad of colors that made up the caudal fin nearly camouflaged the set of poisonous spines hiding along the length of the fin. Harry knew, even without seeing it, that a similar set could be found along the shorter fin that trailed up the back of the tail.

After all, sirens were deadly even without their captivating songs.

Harry scrambled back at the sight, pushing himself further up the beach in an effort to get away from the creature.

The (h/c) let out a disappointed huff, letting his tail drop back against the water with a loud slapping sound. He dropped his head back against the sand, but Harry knew he was still under observation. “You realize that if I were going to make a meal of you, I would have done it by now, right? I had the perfect opportunity before. Y’know, when you were drowning?” He sighed as Harry made no move to relax, eventually pushing himself further into the water and slipping off below the waves.

Harry knew that even with the siren out of sight, it still posed a massive threat. He wasn’t sure exactly how long it would take for the crew to find him, if they ever did, so his first priority needed to be securing himself a shelter. He wasn’t sure how large the island really was, but he decided that he would rather make his camp near the beach than in the thick jungle that loomed beyond the welcoming white sands. He’d just have to make sure to take some precautions to ensure that his silver-tongued visitor would not be visiting unexpectedly.

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

It took him several hours to set up a shelter that he deemed secure enough, and several more to find enough rocks to serve as a sort of barrier. He spent the rest of the day arranging the stones in rows three or four deep around the sea-facing edge of his camp, the most jagged edges facing the water. He knew that rocks alone would do little against a siren, but it made him feel better to think that if the creature wanted him dead enough to drag itself out of the water after him, it’d at least have to risk injuring itself.

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

When Harry awoke the next morning to find the siren lounging in the same spot as it had been yesterday glaring reproachfully at his meager stone barrier, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction.

The (h/c) turned to look at him as he emerged from his shelter, (e/c) eyes glinting oddly in the light. “What’s this for?”

“To keep you away from me,” Harry replied evenly, crossing his arms over his chest.

The siren rolled his eyes grumpily, dragging a claw-tipped finger along the edge of one of the rocks, “And here I was going to offer to take you back to the other humans once you were healed.”

Harry let out a bitter laugh, “And get back in the water with a siren? Not a chance.”

“Good luck meeting back up with your family then,” the siren retorted, pushing his wet hair out of his eyes. “There are not many boats that come this far. There are too many of us up here.”

Harry’s eyes widened; if the siren was telling the truth, then he really was on his own. There would be no chance of rescue if he was deep in siren territory. He swore at the realization, hands clenching into fists at his sides. “Why should I believe you?”

The (h/c) shrugged, pushing himself to sit up further to watch the waves come rolling in, “I have no reason to lie. Because of you, I have no family to go home to. No one to protect but myself.”

The brunet was confused. “Because of me? What did I do?”

“I saved you,” the (h/c) replied simply. “They saw that as a betrayal. Thought that I was putting a stranger above the wellbeing of the pod and decided to cast me out.” He smiled wryly, eyes fixed on the horizon, “I have no one but you now.”

The siren’s honesty had Harry feeling a little guilty about his earlier hostility. And the (h/c) had a point when he said that he could’ve just let him drown, but instead he’d tried to save him and he was offering to take him back to the ship as soon as he was better.

Harry took a deep breath as he made his way closer to the siren, kicking a few of the stones out of the way as he approached. The (h/c) looked stunned by his change in attitude, but he chose to remain silent even as the brunet sat down beside him. “My mom died when I was little,” he started slowly, azure eyes fixed far past the boy beside him. “She’d gone out on the ship with my dad and his crew and when they came back she was gone along with almost half of the crew.” The breath he took was shaky and Harry felt like he didn’t have nearly enough air in his lungs to continue, “My dad says it was sirens; they were lured off of the ship by their singing and drowned.”

The siren’s (e/c) eyes were wide as he looked back at Harry. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Harry replied slowly, “I just wanted you to understand why it’s hard for me to trust you.”

“That makes sense,” his companion nodded, the end of his tail flicking and creating a mess of tiny waves that washed up over Harry’s feet and wet the ends of his pants. “You can call me (M/N), by the way.’

“The name’s Harry,” the brunet replied, watching the light dance off his new friend’s scales hypnotically. His lips quirked up as he realized that being trapped here with him until he had recovered may not be so bad after all.

[chubbyreaderwriter]

Hands Off

Steve Rogers x Chubby/Plus Size Reader

Prompt: could i request one with steve rogers where tony stark comments on your body and flirts with you to no end but you’re dating steve and he gets all jealous and protective of you 🥺👉🏻👈🏻💖

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: swearing

Masterlist 

Being in a relationship with someone as perfect as Steve, you knew that there was going to be times where the familiar green eyed monster would rear it’s ugly head but you had been foolish to assume you would be the one struggling with jealousy in your relationship. You were a very attractive woman, despite how you saw yourself, a lot of guys wished they could take Steve’s place at your side. One of those men being a certain genius billionaire playboy philanthropist, or better known as Tony Stark. 

The man was either completely unaware of your relationship status or he just didn’t care. The flirting had started small, mere compliments that would be normal to give to a friend or coworker without it being weird. He would say something nice about your hair or your outfit or your work and move on with his day. Sometimes you thought you were at fault for ‘encouraging’ him, all you did was thank him but maybe that was enough for Tony to think you were interested in something more. 

The flirting got worse over time, more crude and sexual but you still didn’t really think it was a big problem. This was Tony Stark, surely he does this to every living woman that walks near him. You’d tried to bring up the fact you have a boyfriend but Tony didn’t believe you, “Come on (Y/N), you expect me to believe the hundred year old virgin bagged a chick as hot as you?” You wouldn’t do much but roll your eyes at him and continue working. You worked in the tower as Bruce’s assistant, which meant you were constantly distracted and annoyed by the persistent womanizer of the building. 

You had told Steve about Tony’s flirting but it just so happened that Tony’s and Steve’s schedules always had them far away from each other so Steve never had an opportunity to confront his teammate about this issue. Steve had laughed when you told him, thinking it was just classic Tony sass, not realising that the man had no idea you two were together. While Steve pretended it was fine, he couldn’t help but let himself get distracted during missions, wondering if Tony was hitting on you that very moment and there was nothing he could do to stop it. But he was being ridiculous right? Tony wouldn’t go for his girl, would he? 

You were stood looking down at your desk, analyzing some results sheets for an experiment you were collaborating with Bruce on. It had been a pretty dull and tedious day up until the lab doors opened and in walked the last person you wanted to see today. Tony caught sight of you before you had time to find a place to hide to avoid him. He strolled over to your station, “Hey beautiful, I did come looking for the jolly green giant but instead I found something much sexier to look at.” It was now a force of habit to roll your eyes at anything that came out of Tony’s mouth. Scoffing, you replied, “Oh please, when are you going to learn that I’m not interested.” 

Tony grinned but moved away to give you space, “Yes yes, you have a boyfriend,” he used his fingers to mimic quotation marks as he said the word ‘boyfriend’, still stuck on his theory that you were still single and available. You sighed in annoyance but perked up when Bruce walked through the lab doors, Tony always backed off a little when Bruce was around, thank god. Tony swung his arms by his side, “Say, why don’t you bring him to the party tonight. If he’s a no go, I know that’s you telling me you’re finally giving into my charms.” Bruce walked closer so Tony leaned in to whisper, “I’d prefer it if you didn’t wear any underwear.” He turned and walked over to Bruce too fast to be able to see the disgusted look on your face. 

How could he be so delusional to think that you were interested in him. The only man you had eyes for was Steve and no one else was going to change that. You had arrived home later that night in a huff, you really didn’t want to go to that party but you definitely didn’t want to give Tony the wrong impression and make things ten times worse for yourself. Steve seemed to sense your frustration the moment you walked through the door and walked out from his seat in the living room to pull you into his arms as you stood in the hallway. You let out a sigh as you wrapped your arms around Steve’s back. 

“Hard day at work, doll?” Just hearing Steve’s voice was enough to calm you down. You mumbled a noise of agreement as best you could with your face smushed against Steve’s chest. He laid his head on top of yours, “Is there anything I can do to help?” You pulled away to look up at Steve, “Will you go to a party with me so Tony will stop flirting with me?” You didn’t see the way Steve’s jaw clenched when you said Tony’s name, “Of course I will doll.” You smiled as you headed to your bedroom to find a dress you wanted to wear tonight. In the scenario you played out in your head, it took a lot more convincing to get Steve to be your date. Steve was more a sit at home and read a good book kind of guy most nights, only really going to events if he was required to attend or if he was bored. 

Steve watched you rummage through your closet to try and find a nice dress to wear for the party. Even though you didn’t want Tony’s attention, you still wanted to look good for yourself and for Steve. After a few minutes, you found the dress you were looking for and laid it out on the bed to look for a matching pair of heels to go with it. The dress was a long sleeved, off the shoulder maxi dress with a long spit down the left side  that went up to the top of your thigh. It had ruffles along the hem at the top, covering the outline of your chest but making it look even more seductive at the same time. It was a deep burgundy colour and you paired it with some black platform heels. You didn’t wear heels that often, but when you did, you felt sexy and confident. 

Once you were done getting ready for the party, you checked yourself out in the mirror and you couldn’t resist checking yourself out. Steve had his eyes on your from the other side of the room as well, approaching you from behind to wrap his arms around your waist. He placed a soft kiss on your exposed neck, “You look gorgeous, doll. I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep my hands to myself all night.” You grinned and bit your lip, turning around in Steve’s arms to face him, placing your arms around his neck, looking him up and down, “I don’t think you’ll be the only one.” Steve always looked good but when he dressed up, it really made you wonder how you managed to convince the Captain American to be yours. 

If you hadn’t already been late to arrive at the party, you were sure you would’ve been tempted to have a quickie before heading out. Unfortunately, just as you leaned in for a kiss, you got a notification from Happy, letting you know that he was outside and Tony sent him to pick you up. You held back a groan, not wanting to concern Steve and walked downstairs with him to get into the black limousine. You sighed, it was clear that Tony didn’t know the meaning of the word subtle. Steve held the door open for you so you could get inside and took the opportunity to glance at your behind as you had to bend over to crawl inside, holding up the bottom of your dress so it didn’t get ruined. It was a short drive to Stark Tower and quiet. You and Steve felt comfortable enough being just in each other’s presence without needing to fill the silence with conversation. You knew each other’s mannerisms to know that you were both excited for the night ahead. You were looking forward to the look on Tony’s face when you rocked up with your boyfriend. 

Once you got inside, Steve gently tapped on your arm, “I’m gonna head over to the men’s room, I’ll be right back okay?” You nodded and walked over to the bar that was next to the elevator, ordering yourself a cocktail and a beer for Steve. It didn’t really matter what you got Steve, he didn’t even get tipsy unless he was given some of Thor’s alcohol from Asgard and it seemed the blonde god wasn’t around tonight to get your boyfriend drunk. Due to your back facing the rest of the room, you weren’t able to see a certain billionaire making his way towards you. Tony smirked as he placed his hands on your hips and pressed himself against you, “I don’t see a date.” At first, you thought Steve had come back from the bathroom but then Tony spoke and you froze. You pushed your elbow back into his stomach to try and force him off of you but he didn’t budge, “Get off me.” You didn’t want to cause a scene but already people were starting to look your way and you felt embarrassed. 

Tony laughed, “Oh come on (Y/N), we both know you want me.” Just as you felt Tony move closer against you, he was suddenly ripped away from you and you heard a crash and a grunt of pain, followed by “Get your hands off my girl!” You quickly turned around to see Steve standing over Tony who was lying on the ground with glass all around him. You looked at Steve and breathed heavily, still processing what happened. Steve looked at you before holding out his hand. You eagerly grabbed it and let yourself be pulled closer to him, being pulled down the hallway to the elevator, indicating that you were leaving already, not that you minded. You said nothing in the elevator, not really knowing what to say. You didn’t really have to say anything when Steve pressed you against the wall and pressed a rough kiss against your lips. You gasped and he took that opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. You pulled away to catch your breath, gasping softly. Steve put his hands on your hips, where Tony’s had been moments before, “He shouldn’t have touched you.” 

Steve’s voice was low and deeper than normal, it made you feel tingly and sent a shiver down your spine. You looked him in the eyes, “That’s right, because I’m yours and only yours.” Those words struck something in Steve and he pressed the emergency stop button before picking you up and pressing you hard against the wall, wrapping your legs around his hips. Your hands gripped his hair and the back of his shirt, trying to pull him closer to you as your lips connected a second time. Your hands moved to start to unbutton Steve’s shirt when the elevator started moving once more, “Apologies Miss (Y/L/N) and Captain Rogers, but as it is not an emergency situation, the elevator must be kept available for use.” You groaned and hit your head against the wall, you couldn’t believe you were getting cock blocked by a robot. Steve chuckled against your neck as he set you down, “Guess we’ll have to wait until we get home, doll.” 

. . .

The next morning when you walked into work, you were very worried that you were going to be dragged out onto the street without a job anymore, but that didn’t seem to be the case, your ID badge was still accessing entrance to your work station. When you arrived at the lab, you jumped as you saw Tony sitting on the edge of your desk silently. He looked up at you and raised his hands up, “I surrender, you tried to tell me and I didn’t listen. I apologize, truce?” You glared at him, looking down at his outstretched hand back to his face. You were unsure about this but reached out to shake his hand, “Okay, truce.” As you leaned forward a little, the collar of your lab coat fell and showed the top of a hickey on your neck. Tony grinned to himself, “Didn’t know Captain Underpants doubled as a vampire.” He left and you quickly covered your neck with your hand, rushing over to a mirror to check it out, not realising it was there. You softly bit your lip as you remembered last night and suddenly it didn’t matter anymore. 

[sotangledupinit]

Listen, I don’t think we as a society talk about the fact that Killian gave up his revenge to save Henry (and I kind of think he did it in memory of Neal so).

Like hear me out with this and I’m not sure how much of this makes sense but it does, trust me.

So like the season two finale really focuses on Killian’s relationship with Neal when he was just a boy and still Baelfire. He was Milah’s son and Killian’s first chance at a family. (This could be a headcanon or fanon or whatever but I think it was pretty obvious that despite how blinded by revenge he was, he still regretted what he did to Bae in Neverland. Anyway.)

I don’t think the guilt of his past actions with Baelfire weigh as heavily on Killian as they do when Emma reveals that, not only is he Henry’s father but, he is also now dead. Killian’s plan by then is already in motion -- he already took the bean out of the bag and decided to take his ship and leave. 

It is Baelfire that is the reason Killian turns back. He feels full-force the regret of what he did in leaving Baelfire and he decides that he won’t do that to Emma; he will not leave her to die or at the hands of some evil force like he’s already done and regretted in the past. So he makes his first step in being a better man and turns around. It’s something he should have done for Baelfire, it’s something Milah and Liam would be proud of him for. Emma reminded him of what it means to do something good that would benefit more than just himself.

Killian turns back with good intentions and, luckily for him, the town didn’t blow up and they didn’t need the magic bean. However, he quickly finds out that Henry -- Baelfire’s son, Milah’s grandson -- has been kidnapped. He immediately offers his ship and his services without a second to think when Emma tells him what happened.

Rumple goes, “So, you done trying to kill me?”

Killian replies, “I believe so.”

Killian puts aside his thirst for revenge, his desire to see the Dark One suffer for all the pain he’s caused him, so that they can save Henry. They are literally standing on the deck of The Jolly Roger, where Rumple once begged for his wife back, and later right where Rumple crushed Milah’s heart and took his hand. It’s so poetic that Killian states then and there that he’s done trying to kill him, atop the scene of the crime where he vowed to find a way to destroy him and avenge Milah!

Instead, he gives this all up, offers his ship and services, to save Henry, a boy he hasn’t even met before this. But the boy is special because he is everything he loves (and is beginning to love) -- Milah, Baelfire, and Emma. 

I truly think him being Baelfire’s son is what sealed the deal. Baelfire found himself ripped from his world and without his family and then betrayed by a man he began to care for and Killian, fully regretting how his last encounter with Baelfire went down, decides he is going to do everything to save Henry in the way he couldn’t save Bae.

And I just love that. 

[tiderideraa]

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄  𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑  𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒

𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑  𝐓𝐖𝐎 ― Uma’s right hand and her First Mate, Harry is her number two. Taking over crew leadership when Uma is otherwise occupied. He’s responsible for training, discipline, and carrying out Uma’s orders or needs, while Uma decides what the ship and their crew should do, Harry makes sure that the ship and the crew can do it. While capable of independence and taking initiative, Harry often misses the “big picture”, focusing more often with the battle rather than the war or the long term consequences and instead being entirely driven by immediate successes. With Uma capable of directing Harry’s single-minded determination, he falls comfortably into the Number Two category even after he becomes his own Captain.

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓  𝐑𝐀𝐓 ― While Harry was raised aboard the Jolly Roger, he grew up predominantly on the streets of the Isle and was in large part forced to survive on his own. While he did have some support from his elder sister and some friends, he learned how to get by on his own using whatever skills he could learn from his time on the street. Harry is a self-taught sneak thief and blackhand, using stealth and slight of hand to steal or plant items from his marks with zero consideration or remorse for his victims. He has memorized the majority of the Isle's districts/boroughs and can find his way anywhere using back alley's and hidden entrances, and he also knows how to escape and evade his enemies.

𝐍𝐎  𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄  𝐎𝐅  𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋  𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 ― Harry is very comfortable in his own skin and with close proximity to others, often invading the personal spaces of those around him. His motivations for doing so ranges, most often he does so to assert dominance and make others uncomfortable, often taunting or teasing people in order to provoke a reaction. Other times it is Harry’s way of demonstrating affection, joy, or attraction, and sometimes it is simply because Harry is comfortable in others spaces and simply doesn’t think about how the other individual or individuals feel about it. He can be very invasive, often grabbing, holding, or touching and will only relent or pull away if it’s a person he is close to that informs him they don’t wish to be touched.

𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓  𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐃 ― Harry possesses the magnetic charisma, boldness of action, capability of manipulation and observational intellect of the Magnificent Bastard. While Harry’s academic intellect may pale in comparison to other characters that fit the Magnificent Bastard Trope, Harry’s ability to read the people around him and use what he reads to his advantage demonstrates a highly devious mind where he is capable of being smooth and clever enough not to fall for traps. His inability to be reasoned with and his infallible persistence and resilience means that he lets little to nothing stand in the way of him achieving his goals. He’s charming, dangerous, intimidating and courageous.

𝐀𝐗 - 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐙𝐘 ― While Harry is not as psychologically unstable as others that fall under the Ax-Crazy Trope, he can be extremely unhinged and emotionally unpredictable. Harry is not only capable of, but also immensely enjoys inflicting extreme violence against those that he perceives as his enemy or as an obstacle in the way of his goals, often committing heinous acts with a smile and always without remorse. Harry’s emotional instability can make him difficult and frightening to deal with as one rarely knows for certain what will make him lash out.

𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐄  𝐂𝐀𝐓  𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐍 / 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄��  𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄 ― If Harry is smiling it can mean one of two things, either he genuinely enjoys what is happening or being said around him, or someone or something is about to be in mortal danger. Harry will smile with too many teeth, a grin that stretches across his lips and which make his eyes gleam with mischief, anger, or other predatory qualities. It can be difficult to differentiate between the Cheshire Cat Grin and the Slasher Smile as generally the only indicator of which it is takes shape in the immediate events after seeing it. Typically sex, rough housing, teasing, mischief, or random acts of affection follow the Cheshire Cat Grin, while aggression, humiliation, degradation, and violence follow the Slasher Smile. Whichever smile you see it’s safe to assume that one should always be watchful for when it appears and prepare for the worst.

𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄  𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐃 ― While Harry has a difficult time manipulating events, or playing at controlling a wide field of numerous variables, he is exceptionally skilled at manipulating individual peoples emotions, perspectives, psychologies, and any other person or thing that he can in order to get what he wants. His ability to read the people around him and retain information is almost uncanny and while he often uses this skill on his enemies, he can also use it against his allies as well, sometimes for good reasons and other times not.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄  𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ― When Harry perceives himself or his people as having suffered some kind of slight, he will almost always retaliate tenfold, believing that the answer to such offenses should be drastic in order to ensure that these slights are never repeated by the perpetrator or by any other witnesses. The retribution that Harry commits is often brutal, merciless, and over the top. Should anyone attempt to convince Harry that what he is doing is unprovoked or “too much”, Harry is often unreasonable, refusing to see things in any other way unless it's Uma or Gil attempting to convince him. And even then, it doesn't always stop him outright, rather only convinces him to delay what he perceives to be the inevitable.

𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄  𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ― anti-villain,  conditioned  to  accept  horror,  badass  normal,  wild  card,  villain  has  a  point,  would  hit  a  girl,  the  dreaded,  genius  bruiser .

[once-upon-a-pirate-ship]

it would kill me (if you didn't know)

I know. Trust me, I know. But I've been working on my novel, and when this fic slapped me in the face last night, I just went with it. And so should you.

Neverland AU - canon divergence for somewhere in 3a

(Blatant disregard of canon to follow--don't make me rewatch the show, please)

They saved Henry but all got separated in the process, and when they finally made it back to the ship, Emma realized that they were down a man. She's just gonna have to save him.

This features some pretty awesome Emma/David bonding, too.

This is a classic 'Killian's been taken while saving them and now he's being tortured and Emma isn't gonna stand for it' fic. I've read them all, and I just needed more. POV switches 3rd person between Killian and the others.

Thanks in advance for accepting the sidestepping of canon that I love to do.

Rated M for language and violence

length: 5k+

Read it on ao3

In retrospect, it wasn’t the greatest plan he’d ever had. But it also wasn’t the worst. Well, it could hardly even be called a plan, really, given that the consideration for it occurred in approximately three seconds, but he was hardly going to worry about it now. There were other things to worry about.

The thing that Killian Jones, pirate captain of the Jolly Roger and unofficial Neverland guide to Swan (and the others), needed to be worried about was the little demon child Peter fucking Pan who stood over him with that stupid evil smirk on his lips.

“Seems like you’ve finally lost, pirate,” Pan spat, but the amusement in his tone only sharpened the anger in his eyes.

Killian’s gaze flickered from the child to the grove in the distance, and when he saw not a trace of the others, he returned his attention to Pan. “Aye, I suppose so,” he said, his voice rough though calm and certain.

Pan’s brow furrowed. “Really? No witty remark? No promise to skin me alive?” he taunted. “You’ve changed your tune, Hook.”

He resisted rolling his eyes, instead gripping his wounded shoulder a little tighter. The arrow wasn’t poisoned—he’d have felt it working by now—but it wasn’t helping his predicament at all. Neither was the sizeable gash on his abdomen that Felix had been kind enough to gift him when he’d been distracted.

“Have I?” Killian asked. “I wonder what you’ll do with me now,” he added dryly. He knew. Oh, he knew.

Pan’s eyes flashed, and in an instant he was crouching towards Killian, his hand grasping the protruding arrow. “Now, I get to have my fun,” he declared with a cruel twist of his lips and an even crueler twist of the arrow.

But Killian Jones was no stranger to pain. They were intimately acquainted. That’s how he grit his teeth and buried it until nothing but a tiny grunt sounded from deep within his throat. Pan wouldn’t consider his torture much fun if he didn’t scream in agony, so he would keep playing until Killian could fight it no longer. And he’d let him. Because egging him on would make him lash out, and ensuring him of Swan’s victory would put her and the lad in danger. Pan had spent his time since their arrival playing games with them, distracting them from the important things they’d come there to do. It was only fair that Killian would return the favor.

So the demon could pull out all his toys, could whip him and carve into his flesh, could burn him until his skin was blackened ash, but nothing would stop Killian Jones from protecting his loved ones. And gods above, he loved Emma Swan.

--

All she wanted to know was how the fuck this happened. Their plan had been so perfect that even she couldn’t doubt it, but somehow the winds had shifted or their luck had run out or her luck had run out, and when they returned to the Jolly Rodger and the groups had reunited, they’d been down a man. Down a captain.

Neal, for all his talk of fighting for her, didn’t seem to mind not fighting for something that she actually cared about. He was running for president of the Let’s Leave the Pirate Here Club, and that wasn’t exactly a great way to get into her good graces, though that would’ve been hard enough as it was.

Regina, predictably, prioritized Henry to a fault—Emma was always for prioritizing her son, but not when it came to sacrificing her values or her morals or whatever, fine, she just didn’t want to sacrifice him. Henry was okay, he was safe, and they could take precautions to ensure that he would stay that way, but Regina just didn’t care or didn’t think it was worth it. A good option for Neal’s vice president.

In all her silent canvassing of the group’s feelings regarding Operation Save Hook (Henry was asleep, okay? He could come up with a better name when he woke up), Emma blatantly ignored Gold. For obvious reasons.

Tink was mostly for saving him, but not confident enough in any plan she could offer to make it stick. She’d tried to sway Regina, but that had been less than successful.

Then it was her parents. And, for once, they weren’t in total agreement.

Mary Margaret was sympathetic, to be sure, but not enough. She wasn’t in the Let’s Leave the Pirate Here Club, but she was Queen of Save My Kid and Her Kid Kingdom, so that was that.

But David—that’s what had caught her attention.

When they’d first discovered Hook’s absence and began discussing their options, Emma had held back and held her breath, unwilling to reveal her hand without knowing where the others stood. She’d gone into full Observant Mode, and that’s when she saw David, her father, and his reaction.

His face stiffened, an automatic move to hide his feelings, but Emma saw through it, even when Mary Margaret didn’t (or didn’t want to see it). It was a set jaw, a twitching lip that was almost a frown, tensed shoulders that eventually gave way to firmly crossed arms because apparently, Emma had gotten her Observant Mode from her father, and that’s what he was doing.

A few minutes into the conversation had nothing decided, but Emma shifted her stance, and her father looked her way. Their eyes locked, and while the others continued their pathetic excuse for a rescue discussion, father and daughter exchanged practically imperceptible nods, and then they were allies.

It’s what gave her the strength to step forward at last and disregard whatever half-assed ‘it’s too late’ speech Neal had been giving with a pointed clearing of her throat.

“David and I will go back for him while you guys get the ship ready,” Emma announced. Regina did that haughty half-step back that meant something between ‘I don’t care’ and ‘do whatever you want,’ and Mary Margaret’s only response was to look questioningly at her husband. Tinker Bell gave an enthusiastic nod of approval before busying herself with some bit of the rigging she may or may not have actually understood how to work.

Neal, however, was predictably Neal. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ems,” he said, that stupid nickname that he had no fucking right to use.

Emma’s head turned slowly to her ex, regarding him with the coldest gaze she’d ever offered anyone. Regina had some competition as head of the Looks That Could Kill Committee. “Hm, okay. Well, you don’t have to think it’s a good idea, because you’re staying here.”

“Emma—”

“There’s no discussion, Neal. No discussion from anyone, but especially from you. You have no right to talk, or interfere, and you especially have no right to argue against saving the man who is the reason your own son is alive and safe now.”

Mary Margaret was staring at her when she turned away from him, her eyes wide and openly confused, but she said nothing. David, however, had his eyes cutting into Neal, narrowed and calculating and damn, he was putting pieces together and he wasn’t liking the picture.

“Ready?” Emma asked her father.

He forced himself to look away. “Just have to grab one thing,” he told her, shaking his head at something Mary Margaret had said before he disappeared below.

Neal had huffed away after Emma’s little scolding, and he pouted at the exact opposite end from where his father pouted. Regina looked disinterested and mildly irritated, but when Emma glanced at her, she nodded towards Gold with a raised eyebrow.

Emma’s lips curled in something like a grateful smile, and she passed her bewildered mother on her way to the Dark One.

“You have something,” Emma said as soon as she stood in front of him. “Something to get Pan.”

“I do, Miss Swan,” he replied, that stupid tone that told her he had tricks up those stupid sleeves of his.

She hummed. “No, there’s no deal this time. No price. I’m done with games. So you can either give it to me, or I can take it from you.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Take it from me?” he asked, entirely amused by the concept.

“I’m done with your shit, Crocodile. You can play Dark One with me all you want, but we both know it’s just easier to just hand it over.”

He glared at her for a long moment, but eventually he cracked, and he glanced at his son who looked out at the water and away from them both. “Fine. But only because I’ve no use for it anyway.”

She took the box he offered, resisting the urge to mutter, ‘yes, that’s why,’ as he explained how it worked. When he’d finished, she offered him a simple but genuine “thank you,” before joining her father once more.

“Here,” David said, passing her another cutlass, one she hadn’t seen before. “You need a new weapon,” he added.

“And I’m borrowing…”

“Hook’s. An extra,” he said. “Figured he wouldn’t mind.”

“Right,” she mumbled, taking it with a frown and securing it quickly. “Well then, let’s go.”

--

For all his talk of being intimately acquainted with pain, Killian Jones was doing a piss-poor job of hiding it. The cracks in his resolve were starting to widen, and when hums and grunts became groans and low growls, he knew it was only a matter of time before Pan started to truly have his fun.

He’d been more clever this time around, to be sure. It had to have been at least a century since Killian had gotten cozy with the demon’s knife (or arrowhead, or branding iron, or whatever particular weapon he’d chosen to use that time), but Pan had certainly honed his skills quite a bit since then.

But Killian was sure that Swan had taken her lad and the others far away by now, and the knowledge that he’d helped her, that he’d kept his word, allowed him the strength he needed to keep the screams from coming.

For a while.

Pan, though, had used a trick on him he’d never experienced, and the shock alone was enough to get it working for a little while.

That trick came in the form of her, of Emma Swan, and the name had fallen from his lips like a prayer, hope that he’d never felt before rising like a rushing tide in his chest, and she’d smiled at him, a radiant, lovely thing that he’d never imagined could’ve been gifted solely for him, useless pirate that he was.

But then she’d started talking, and he knew it was a trick (tides always come back, because when there’s a rise, there’s also a fall). Not at first, he’d give Pan that, because it was easy enough to believe that the smile hadn’t been for him, that she resented him, that she hadn’t meant to save him, that they were better off without him. It wasn’t what she said that tipped him off, it was how she said it. Because Killian Jones had studied her since the moment she uncovered his pathetic hide in that pile of bodies, and he knew her—more than she knew herself, to her dismay—and he could read her. She was an open book, after all.

When her eyes didn’t burn like he knew they should’ve when she spoke of anger and hatred, he knew. When her lips didn’t quirk in that one specific way when she mentioned abandoning him, he knew. And then she spoke about her parents and Baelfire, and it was all wrong, because Emma Swan had walls, and even Neverland wasn’t enough to break them down so quickly.

Wherever she was, Emma Swan wasn’t about to run into her parents’ arms and live happily ever after with them and her True Love, because she wasn’t there yet. He knew her. He knew how hard it was for her to open up to him, someone who understood her from such shared experiences, and that wasn’t something she could just overlook as soon as she returned home. They’d hurt her—here, in Neverland, with assumptions and confessions and automatic behaviors, but also before. And if she did wish to ride off into the sunset with Baelfire, Neal, it wasn’t going to happen right away, because Killian had watched her while she shifted away from Neal when he’d moved towards her. He’d seen the way she recoiled at his touch, how she’d narrowed those jade eyes at his words, how she didn’t trust him, not anymore.

No, the Emma Swan that stood before his beaten and bruised body was a copy, and a bad one. When she hadn’t achieved her goal, she disappeared, and Pan took her place, and though he knew the demon was mocking him and prodding him with insults and hoping they’d smash the last of his resolve, he wasn’t ready to give in just yet.

Killian Jones was waiting for something. He just couldn’t figure out what it was.

--

“What’d he do?”

Emma faltered, the blade missing the piece of jungle shit in her path she’d been trying to cut down. “What? Who?”

“Neal,” her father said, clearing the vines for her before they continued on.

“Oh,” she sounded, pulling her lips together as she considered what to say. He’d noticed it before, and she knew that. He wasn’t stupid, nor was he as hope-prone and naive as Mary Margaret could often be. And they had another few miles to go, at least. “He left,” she said.

David stopped, a hand on her arm that was more than just an attempt to stop her from walking, too. “He left you?” he asked, his eyes somehow tight with rage and tender with something she wanted to dub dad-ness, because no one had ever looked at her like that before.

Emma huffed, because now was definitely not the time for Feelings, now was the time to rescue a goddamn pirate from whatever the hell Peter fucking Pan was doing to him. “He set me up to take the fall for his crime and let me go to prison instead. I didn’t find out I was pregnant until I was already in jail.”

David blinked once, twice, and then his expression was consumed by dad-anger (because it was just a different brand of anger that she’d also never seen before). “Emma—”

“It was a long time ago, dad.” They both started at the name, dad, because she’d never really used it before. A few times she’d said it, but it was something she’d had to force, a correction or a pointed joke, sometimes a near-death thing, but this was different. Authentic. Slightly heartbreaking.

“We don’t have time for this,” she muttered as she turned away, but neither was surprised, and even her dad wasn’t hurt, because Emma had her walls, and that was okay, because she’d needed them to survive this long. And if he had to put in a little time and effort to help take them down, that didn’t bother him one bit.

“I was kinda surprised that you wanted to come,” she said after a while, unable to bear the tense atmosphere any longer.

David gave her a half-smile, slicing another thicket (because they’d grown over since they’d returned to the ship. Fuck Neverland, honestly). “He did save my life, you know. And he was saving Henry when an arrow hit him—before your mother and I got separated from the group. I wasn’t about to leave him for dead after he took an arrow for my grandson.”

Emma froze, nearly dropping the cutlass that wasn’t hers. “He saved Henry?”

Her father’s eyebrows furrowed. “I thought you knew that,” he said. “So why are you so eager to help him? If you didn’t know.”

Her lips parted only to press together firmly, and when she spoke, they both knew it wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t the whole truth. “Because I don’t leave people behind. And even without the arrow, he still saved Henry. He brought us here.”

David studied her for a moment, and these pieces were coming together faster now, and quite suddenly, the picture made a lot of sense. “He came back.”

“For Henry. And Neal,” she replied.

“And you.”

She couldn’t deny it, and he knew that. But it surprised him that he didn’t mind it as much as he had before. Emma’s walls, no matter how much he wished he could change it, were in part because of him and Snow. They saved her, yes, but they abandoned her when they did it. And Neal had likely been the cause of the other fortress that surrounded her, because he’d abandoned her, too.

So if the pirate had gained her trust and her respect because he hadn’t abandoned her, then that was good. David had seen plenty of love and devotion in his life, but he’d never seen loyalty like the kind that burned in Captain Hook. Centuries in search of revenge for the one he’d loved and lost. That wasn’t the man who would turn around and abandon her the second the opportunity arose.

No, without him or the pirate realizing it, he’d pretty much gained his blessing. Because David knew damn well that if the roles were reversed, not even if Emma herself were in danger, but if Hook were here in his place and someone she loved was being tortured, there’s no one he would trust more than Captain Hook to help her. Neal had barely batted an eye. But he was apparently quite skilled at leaving people to rot.

David was just beginning to contemplate how to handle that particular situation when the screams started.

He took his daughter’s hand, meeting her huge and watery eyes, and they ran.

--

He’d held on so long, but it was worth it. It was worth it. No, she was worth it. Emma Swan was worth it.

Emma. Emma. Emma.

Her name became a mantra, a song in his head to fill the space between screams.

Killian Jones had loved Milah. He never doubted that, and his love for another didn’t negate it, either. He wasn’t sure what made his love for Emma Swan sharper, deeper, but it was just different. His working theory was that they’d both loved before, both been hurt before, both lingered in something that was slightly less than pure. Whatever had happened with Baelfire couldn’t have been perfect, because it hurt her. And she’d been so young when she’d had Henry. Milah wasn’t faultless, either. Ironically enough, that point was proven by Baelfire.

Killian had spoken to her about it for hours. She’d spun tales of rescuing the lad, taking him from his pathetic father and bringing him aboard, but it never happened. It wasn’t until Henry was taken from Swan that he realized the downfall of his Milah. He’d known it, truly, but nothing would have stopped Swan from getting back her son, and it should’ve been the same with Milah.

For a moment, the pain of his guilt overwhelmed the pain of Pan’s lash that sliced into his back.

But that was what made his love for Emma Swan different.

Try something new, darling. It’s called trust.

Be a part of something.

Too bad he’d never have the chance to explain it all to her.

--

Emma had seen so much in her life. So much pain, so much ugliness—it had made her start to believe that there was really nothing else. But then Henry showed up at her door, and things changed.

Now, standing in her hiding place with her father, she was forced to watch as the demon child inflicted brutal and unrelenting torture to Captain Hook—no, no, he wasn’t Hook anymore. Not after this. He was Killian Jones, and she was going to save him.

She just couldn’t jump in and do it. Not without a plan.

Once they’d decided who was the distraction and who was taking the box, they were ready, but she wasn’t. Each scream pierced her heart, and by this point, the tears were just a permanent fixture that neither of them acknowledged. You couldn’t listen to that kind of pain and not feel it down to your goddamn soul. And she knew that as much as it hurt to hear it, Killian was hurting a thousand times worse while he endured it.

It had only been hours, maybe, but she’d never seen a person look so broken and not be actually dead, and it felt like her fault. Because maybe if she’d been strong and reasonable enough to let go of Henry’s hand for even a second, she would’ve realized that he wasn’t at her side like he was supposed to be. Sure, they’d all been separated into groups that slowly returned to the ship, but she should’ve known. She should’ve been there. He shouldn’t have been here.

None of that mattered now. It was time to save him, and then she could worry about everything else.

Her father kissed her forehead, brushing her tears with his thumbs and offering her a reassuring nod that said we’ve got this, and then he disappeared to play his part. When she stepped into the clearing, she was much more confident than she had any right to be.

“Pan.”

The kid snapped to attention, whirling around to look at her. “Really? You’ve come to rescue the pirate?”

His words, his face, his stupid grin pissed her the fuck off, but what really sold it, the thing that solidified everything for her was the sight of Killian’s hook tucked into Peter Pan’s pocket like it was a fucking souvenir.

“Well, you know what they say about us hero types,” Emma stalled, keeping herself from glancing at Killian where he lay in the dirt. “We don’t leave anyone behind. We come back for everyone. It’s just in our nature.” She had no idea what she was actually saying, she was just talking, just waiting until her father got into place.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you take the pirate, Emma. He’s mine, you see,” Pan told her, and she thought that he’d never looked less than a child with the straight-up evil in his eyes and the weapon in his hand.

She folded her arms across her chest, pulling on strength she didn’t have. “Hm, no, I don’t think he is,” she said, letting some of her anger seep into her voice. “He’s a pirate, sure, but you and I both know that he’s pretty determined about that good form nonsense, and he made me a promise, you know,” Emma continued. “He told me he’d see to it that Henry gets home safely. He can’t do that if he’s here.”

Pan’s shoulders shifted as his chest puffed out, and he wanted something. “How about this,” he said, “the pirate in exchange for your son.”

Emma scoffed. “As I told the Dark One earlier, I’m done playing games. No deals. I’m leaving this island with my son and my pirate and everyone else, and that’s it. You lose, kid.”

Peter Pan grinned, and if she hadn’t just seen David out of the corner of her eye, she would’ve been terrified. “How’s that? I’m not going to let you leave with Henry or the pirate, no matter how much you’re convinced I’m going to,” he said, almost petulant.

“Sorry, I should’ve been clearer,” Emma smiled, “I should’ve mentioned the part about you being captured. Whoops. Too late.”

Emma surged forward, snatching the hook just before Pan was sucked into Pandora’s box from David’s outstretched hand. Neither he nor Emma hesitated for a second before they rushed to Killian where he was no more than a pile of cuts and bruises on the ground, stripped of his coat and his vest and his bravado.

David rolled him onto his side carefully, shooting her a concerned look when he didn’t even flinch.

The hook fell from her grasp and onto the ground beside them. “Killian?” Emma said softly, her hand reaching out to ghost across his sweaty forehead. If she didn’t see the rise and fall of his chest in time with the shuddering breaths he took, she would’ve been certain he was dead, because anyone else would’ve been dead.

“Emma, I have no idea how we’re going to move him when he’s like this,” her father told her, and if he were someone else, that would’ve meant that they’d run out of options, but hope was the family motto.

Emma pushed out a breath, bringing her hands back to her face, running them over her hair and locking a few fingers around her necklace. “Alright, okay, lemme think,” she said, but of course that was when her brain turned to absolute mush.

Time, nonexistent here though it was, was marked with Killian’s shaky breaths, and several minutes passed before David spoke. “Emma…” he began, and when she looked at him, that family motto was shining in his eyes. “Emma, you have magic. You can heal him.”

“I—” I can’t, she wanted to say. But it didn’t matter that she’d never done it, that she had no idea how to, because she’d do it. She’d do anything to save this stupid, ridiculous, insufferable, amazing pirate. He promised that he’d win her heart, and she wasn’t about to lose him right when she finally had a chance to let him.

“How?” she asked, hoping—yes, Emma Swan did things like hope now—he’d know something helpful.

David hesitated, as if he were gathering everything he’d ever learned about magic. “Okay, your magic is about emotion, right?” At her nod, he continued, “Well, that’s good, because you’re feeling a lot of things right now. You want to help him, to heal him, so maybe think about why?”

Emma chuckled, and it was a watery thing, but she wiped the dampness from her cheeks. “I don’t think I’ve cried this much since…I have no idea when,” she confessed.

David met her gaze, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. “Use it.”

She took a breath, her eyes slamming shut so she could focus, but her hand didn’t leave her father’s.

Why was she crying now, this much, after everything? She wasn’t a crier (you couldn’t be in the system that long and still be a crier), so what had changed? All at once, she knew.

Captain Hook is what changed. Killian Jones had towered her walls, and now she was crying over him. Because she felt things. Things with a capital ‘t,’ and it was the first time in her life that she was finally, truly letting herself feel Things, the first time she honestly wanted to. There hadn’t really been a choice with Neal. He was just there, and that’s why she’d loved him. She was young, and he offered her this tiny piece of security and she’d latched onto it, and that was it. It wasn’t even about him, not really, not when she broke it down like that. Everything she felt for Killian Jones was about him.

Right from the start, he’d terrified her, because he could see right through her walls like they were made of glass. He read her because he already spoke the fucking language, but she hadn’t let herself understand that piece until later. But how many times had she been standing beside her family (she had that now), knowing that things were off or just not feeling right because they didn’t quite get it—but then she’d looked over and he’d been watching her because he got it. He knew. And he came back.

Killian Jones had never abandoned her. Well, there was that one time he locked her in a cell, but that was only because she’d just chained him up on the top of a beanstalk and it was honestly only fair, so that was different. Every moment when she waited for him to race off while in Neverland, when leaving her to her fate would’ve been the smart and easy thing to do, he’d proven her wrong (but she wasn’t really wrong, because she didn’t really believe it. She’d trusted him right from the start, and each time he didn’t leave her was somehow both totally surprising and totally predictable).

But it wasn’t just that. It was everything she saw in him when he thought no one was looking. The shadows that crossed his face when they ran into something familiar, the hesitance when offered assistance by anyone, the mysteriously filled waterskins that appeared by her bedroll after his watch. Everything he did for her and her family was a promise that he was no longer a villain—that maybe he’d never actually been one—and she could doubt everyone else (except for Henry), but she couldn’t doubt Killian Jones.

She was falling for him. Hard. She probably already would’ve fallen if she’d let herself, especially if she’d gone with her gut at the top of that beanstalk and trusted him, so she wasn’t about to let him die.

Emma raised her free hand, feeling all of her Feelings and thinking all of the Things, and she healed him, because she needed to. She felt the warmth that radiated from her palm, and when her eyes flickered open, there was a brilliant light that washed over his face and followed the path of her hand as she hovered along his body. The cuts shrank, sealing themselves while the blood seeped back into his skin, and when his breaths were no longer labored, she knew he was healed.

Her father gave her a proud smile (it was watery, too), but their attention was quickly brought back to the groaning pirate.

Killian’s eyes took several fluttering blinks before they focused correctly, and when he spoke, it was no more than a disoriented grunt. “Swan?”

“We’re here,” she said, releasing David’s hand to take Killian’s. “We trapped Pan, Henry’s safe on the Jolly Roger, and now all we need is for you to take us home.”

His eyes were stormy when he looked up at her, and his rough palm lined up with her soft one, and for a single, fleeting moment, it was as if he’d never felt pain in his life. The warmth, the ease, the life he felt holding Emma Swan’s hand made him briefly forget the hours of torture from Pan, and for what may have honestly been the first time in his life, Killian Jones felt safe.

There were many questions that he needed to ask, ones he hadn’t had the chance to think of with his present exhaustion, but he pushed them aside, because she was smiling that smile, the one he’d never imagined could be directed and him, and it lacked the tightness that Pan’s version had. Where Pan’s version had pranced around words, the real Swan was straight to the point and not flowery about anything. But what was most comforting about this Swan was that even though her smile was warm and lovely and nothing like he’d ever seen on her lips, he could see her walls hidden in her gaze, that lingering hesitance, and he knew. She’d come back for him.

“Think you can walk?” David asked him, and it almost made the pirate jump (centuries of always being on his guard, always prepared and aware of his surroundings, and Emma Swan gave him one smile and held his only hand and that was enough to block out the rest of the realm).

Killian nodded, and with some careful maneuvering by Swan and her father, he was upright. He wavered slightly—blood loss, he reasoned, because Emma had definitely healed him with her magic, but there was only so much magic could do—but they secured both of his arms without delay.

“Oh,” Emma paused, bending down to grab his hook. “Thought you’d want this back,” she added with a smile that was almost sheepish.

It was the way she held it that made him lightheaded (not at all related to the blood loss). Her hand was wrapped around the metal like it was nothing but also everything. She didn’t fear it, didn’t scrunch her nose at it—the way she held it was like the way she held his hand: a part of him, something she couldn’t quite bring herself to let go of.

“Thank you, Emma,” he murmured, and all three of them knew it wasn’t just for returning the hook. He gestured for her to attach it, and after a glance of confirmation, she did. And he couldn’t help but feel whole.