#my son: i will look after them in the shadows for i'm the wanderer-

[inavagrant]

Freaking believes himself the Batman of Sumeru. He is so fuckin g funny.

[velarisnightsky444]

Scorched Shadows: Pt I

Eris x Azriel'sSister!Reader

Summary: Y/N is the younger sister of Azriel. She has shadows just like him, and is also a spymaster for Rhys. When she meets Eris, she initially hates him, but after a bargain is made between them, things begin heating up. This takes place before Under the Mountain.

warnings: mentions of abuse(beron)

a/n: this takes place over many years, so I will keep track of the years since the fic started above.

Series Masterlist

Part 2

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Year 1

You spent most of the meeting fidgeting with your scarred hands. The Autumn Court made you uncomfortable, and you hated when Rhys dragged you out for High Lord meetings there.

Not only were the High Lord of Autumn and his sons cruel and wicked, but their powers revolving around fire had always made you nervous.

Morrigan had been allowed to stay home, but not you. Though you'd practically begged Rhys to let you.

Rhys routinely caressed your mind throughout the meeting, something you appreciated. You'd been six years old the first time he'd done that, and it had terrified you. But over the years, you'd learned to see it as comforting, rather than threatening.

You kept quiet throughout the whole meeting, though you couldn't help but notice the way the Lady of Autumn was continuously cut off by her husband when she attempted to speak.

He spent the meeting belittling her, and nobody was doing a thing about it. It infuriated you to see the female treated in such a way.

"He's a cruel, abusive male," a shadow whispered to you. "She fears him."

You locked eyes with Eris Vanserra, who was sneering from across the room. You glared at him, still furious about what had happened to Morrigan all those years ago.

He ran his amber eyes over you, then looked away, dismissing you entirely.

»»————-　♔　————-««

You snuck out of your room that night, feeling suffocated by the Autumn Court decorations. The flames and leaves that were embroidered into everything irritated you.

You hated the bed you were given, with it's maroon sheets. You hated the mahogany that all the furniture was made from.

Most of all, you hated the darkness that was everywhere. It wasn't physical, but you could feel it. The court was cold, empty, and dark.

Your bare feet padded across the wooden floor until you managed to find a balcony.

You stared out at the beautiful scenery. As much as you hated the court, you couldn't deny it's beauty.

The trees were all golden, red, and orange, the forest ground covered in leaves. The chill in the air was comforting, not too cold.

"What is a delicate thing like you doing all alone?"

You whipped around, finding yourself staring into the amber eyes of Eris Vanserra. He was still wearing the emerald button up and black pants he had on at the meeting. The jacket he had been wearing had been discarded, though. His short, red locks was still combed finely, not a hair out of place.

"I'm hardly delicate," was all you managed to say, the words a snarl.

He clicked his tongue, his hands meeting behind his back.

"You think those shadows could save you if the guards found a pretty, little girl like you wandering the grounds at night?" he challenged. You tensed.

“I’m just enjoying the beauty of the court,” you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

"Such rudeness from a lady," he tsked with a smirk. "You wouldn't last a day living here."

"I'd rather die than live here," you snapped back.

"You should care to watch your tongue," he warned. "Especially at the meeting tomorrow. My father doesn't take kindly to females like you."

The fury you had felt at the meeting came back. You recalled how he just sat there as Beron spewed belittling words at his mother.

“How can you just let him treat your mother the way he does?” you demanded.

“Excuse me?”

“He’s abusing her, and you’re doing absolutely nothing to stop it,” you glared.

“Don’t speak of things you don’t understand,” he growled.

“I was just a child when I witnessed the cruelty my father brought upon my mother, but I wanted to stop it then, and if I had been older, I would have,” you snapped at him. “And you don’t even say anything when he insults her—"

He snarled, lunging towards you and pinning your body to the wall. You gasped, the air being knocked from your lungs as your back hit the stone.

“Say another word about my mother, and I will kill you,” he threatened, his features twisted in unbridled rage. “I don’t care who your brothers are, or that you’re a Lady."

“Like father like son,” you replied, your eyes narrowed at the male.

He looked nearly murderous at that. But he didn’t raise a hand to you. That would only prove your point.

"Y/N, is it?" he asked. You nodded tensely. "Well, Y/N, you should learn to keep your nose out of others business. It will only bring trouble."

"I'm a spymaster, that's my job," you replied coolly, your back still pressed against the wall.

"Well, keep my mother out of it," he growled, releasing you.

You let out a breath of relief as he stepped away from you. And then, he was gone.

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»»————-　♔　————-««

[lilac-witch]

If My Wish Came True, It Would've Been You - Azriel x OC

CHAPTER TWO: ONCE UPON A TIME, THE PLANETS AND THE FATES AND ALL THE STARS ALIGNED

word count: 816

synopsis: All it takes is a bit of courage, and a leap of faith, to come one step closer to salvation. Something the Inner Circle are in desperate need of.

warnings: none.

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"How sure are we that this is going to work?"

Cassian's words cut through the air like a sharp breeze, breathing new life into the roam. The life being a weeks-old question.

Could they really make the jump to another world.

"There's no telling," Amren stated bluntly. "All we can hope for is that those books haven't been gathering dust in Rhys' library over the centuries for absolutely nothing."

Azriel watched the small female. The way he had watched her for the last fortnight, nose buried in book after book, desperately searching for the answers they so desperately sought. Amren had been nothing short of miraculous, gathering a plethora of possibilities to help them make the journey to Midgard.

"Do you have everything you need?" Rhys asked, his arms folded, shoulders stiff with unreleased tension.

"I believe so," Amren replied, glancing at the stash atop the oak dinner table, including but not limited to an assortment of dried vegetation, bird feathers, odd-coloured liquids and bones from a source Azriel hoped he'd never come to know. "All that's left is to decide which lucky males and females get to cross the boundaries of space and time."

No one moved, and rightfully so. They had no idea what to expect of the world Bryce Quinlan hailed from, other than the atrocities she'd shown them.

"I'll go."

Azriel watched as Cassian's eyes widened in horror at Nesta's statement. His brother shook his head, muttering to his mate under his breath, begging, pleading that she reconsider.

"Enough, Cassian," Nesta snapped, eyes blazing with those all too familiar silver flames. "I said I'm going, and that's final."

Azriel sympathised with his brother. If it were his mate, he would do anything to keep her someplace out of harm's way. But Nesta was not his mate. She was a warrior. A Valkyrie. She would let no male take her power away from her.

"I should go as well," Rhysand breathed, wincing slightly at the thought of having Nesta as a travel companion. "I suggested this plan. It's only fair I present it."

Feyre was easy to read when in the company of friends and family. Her face was an open book. Azriel knew the idea of being separated pained his High Lady, and his High Lord, especially so soon after Nyx's arrival into the family. But Feyre knew what needed to be done to ensure a safe world for their son to grow up in.

The youngest Archeron sister nodded. "I'll stay, ensure the court continues to run smoothly. Cassian should stay as well. We don't want the Illyrian camps to fall into disarray."

Cassian opened his mouth to object, but one scathing look from Rhys had him clamping his jaw shut with a huff. In any other situation, the action might have been funny. But there was nothing funny about potentially bridging the gap between life and death.

Mor was the next to volunteer, saying something about wanting a first-hand glance at what a night out looks like on another planet, but Azriel's mind had wandered elsewhere. He couldn't help but feel like something was edging him to join this 'little' expedition. Like a rope had been tied to his wrist and was tugging him along a path.

Azriel's shadows skittered as he announced his decision. He'd go to Midgard.

"Well if my favourite Night Court duo are going, it must be a sign that I join!"

Azriel cursed under his breath, turning to see Helion waltzing through the entryway. He'd chastise his shadows later for their lack of vigilance.

"What if it's a sign to stay away?" Mor drawled, challenge gleaming in her eyes.

Helion gasped dramatically, a hand finding its way to the centre of his bronzed chest. "Why, Morrigan. You wound me."

Rhys cleared his throat, putting an end to the dramatic skit. "It's settled then. Nesta, Mor, Azriel, Helion, and I will find Bryce Quinlan and the solution to all of our problems."

Rhys turned his gaze to Amren. "Whenever you're prepared."

Azriel took his place beside Rhys, observing the vicious black-haired female drop the various ingredients into a mortar and pestle, grinding the contents into a coarse powder before adding some form of liquid to create an obnoxious yellow paste.

"You'll only need a thumbnail's worth," she said, passing the bowl to each member of their group. "Place it on your tongue, and swallow when you're ready."

The five of them said their goodbyes, heard the silent prayers for safe travels and formed a small circle. One glance around the room could be their undoing, could be the reason their mission failed. One selfish reason to stay and live out their days in as much happiness as possible.

"Well," Mor said, glancing owlishly at the disgusting paste. "We always did say to whatever end."

"To whatever end," they agreed.

And then they took the leap.

Oh my gosh guys, I'm so sorry it's been so long. I've been trying to grapple with an increased workload, and writer's block on top of everything. Thank you for being patient, and I hope you can continue to be. This is a bit of a filler chapter for the next to come, but I hope you enjoy it in any case :)

Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the Tag List!

Tag List: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @talesofadragon

[dellalyra]

Family Formation Part Three

Summary: The Gojo's share a soft, warm moment with Yuuji after an unexpected midnight run in.

SERIES MASTERLIST requests currently open :)<3

CW: fluff, pregnancy, mild threat, sukuna being sukuna, this is almost more of a crack fic but like it's really soft bc so many people wanted Y/N and Gojo to adopt Yuuji after part two but part four... is going to be heartbreaking I'm sorry

11.43pm - Tokyo Prefectural High School, Dorm Building Kitchen

You’re in the common room, waiting for your husband to finish up a mission - looking at your phone you see him say he’ll be about 10 minutes, so you go to make yourself a quick cup of tea before he gets here and goes home. You could hear the kids up in their dorms until about 30 minutes ago after you had made dinner for you all this evening.

As you boil the kettle, you feel a silent presence lurking behind you, just at the entrance to the kitchen- a drastic shift in cursed energy, one you’d rather not be familiar with but sadly have come to know all too well. You continue to prepare your tea in peace. “Evening, Sukuna.” You say, with an exasperated sigh. A kitchen conversation with the King of Curses wasn’t quite how you imagined this evening to go but you’ll make do. It feels like your baby starts to sense the cursed energy too, with them kicking a little more since Sukuna’s arrival - Gojo genes are strong in this one you see.

A growl emanates through the room, “You dare address me so casually, wench?” “I do, Sukuna, you’re far too smart to start shit in here and with me right now, so do shut up and let me enjoy my tea.” “Oh, what a brave little girl you are - are you in any position to do anything but beg for me to spare the life of you and your child?” His eyes seem to flow red through the dimly lit room.

“I would say I’m rather well safeguarded yes, I’m a special grade sorcerer, and even 7 months pregnant I could inflict decent damage on you, my husband is Gojo Satoru, and my son who possesses the Ten Shadow technique is down the hall AND is overprotective and down the hall, a girl who may as well be my daughter, doing the same and another Grade 1, but most of all - the body you are housed in is that of a boy who is also as good as a son to me, and the minute you start to show me any real threat I know he will make up and squash your nighttime wandering hopes. So, tell me, what can I help you with, Sukuna?” You roll your eyes, knowing full well he’s trying to grandstand and intimidate you, but you just do not have the patience to deal with it right now. As you speak you pour the water into your mug and sit yourself down with a groan at your tired feet. The glare you were given along with the smirk and what you could only assume to be a laugh may scare some, but not you, you’ve seen and exorcised far worse than Sukuna in a 15-year-old boy's body in the kitchen. “Hm, I like you - you’ve got balls. As for what I wanted, well, I suppose I wanted to see for myself the woman carrying the future of jujutsu sorcery - hardly any fun going through all this trouble to regain my power if there will be nothing interesting to use it on.” He stalls towards you, eyeing you and your growing stomach like a trophy. “The child - it is strong, not even taken a breath and the cursed energy outweighs your own. Possibly it’s fathers too. And you’ve raised the Ten Shadows boy, for a human I almost respect you, there’s nothing quite as entertaining as a fierce woman.”

The flare in your cursed energy at the thought of Sukuna even discussing your children would have blown lesser beings to ash but luckily, years of control and practice have kept you from unleashing the rage of a protective mother - this is not even the first time. The very night Sukuna was reborn inside Yuuji, you stood in front of your injured son Megumi which fire burning inside you as Gojo watched the love and care you had for him and that boy behind you turn into a blast slamming the curse into the building. (Your initial concern for hurting the as-yet-unknown rosey-haired child diminished after having seen how Sukuna reinforced his body during a brief scuffle with your husband).

“Sukuna, you have seen that I am quite clearly pregnant, you’ve done what you came to do - off you go, unless you’re going to say you want tea -” with a snarl and muttering about the insolence of humans and the arrogance of every Gojo he retreats as a waking Yuuji looks around, clearly confused.

“Y/N? Why am I in the kitchen? I was asleep? Wait, why are you here, where’s Gojo-Sensei?” The words all tumble out mingled with a yawn from him. Seeing no reason to hide the truth, you continued. “You’re okay Yuuji, Satoru will be here in a minute, I’m just waiting here for him to finish up a quick mission, didn’t want to drive so I’ll go home with him. And as for why you’re in the kitchen, it seemed your body roommate wanted a midnight stroll.” You put your mug onto the counter as you reboil the water to make some tea for Yuuji, hoping it would coax him back to sleep. “Wait, Sukuna? Are you okay? Oh god, I’m so sorry, what did he want?” He flustered about.

“Yuuji honey, I’m absolutely fine, and you have nothing to be sorry for. He just wanted to see if the rumors of a new Six Eyes could be true. We were all completely safe sweetheart, I sent him packing and pretty much told him if he didn’t want tea he could piss off, he’s too smart to ever try anything that could put himself in danger - so don’t worry, you’re safe with Satoru and me around. Plus, I think this one is going to have both my temper and Satoru’s lack of sanity so, you’re surrounded by Gojo’s who love you.” You pat your belly and then his head and push the chamomile tea mug into his hands. He scratches the back of his neck and thanks you, muttering about how much of a dick Sukuna is. You giggle at him and sit down.

“Wait, did you really ask the king of curses if he wanted tea?” Yuuji asked as if that part of the story had just clicked in his head. “Well, Shoko always said I was too ballsy for someone my size.” You giggle and he laughs too, but nods, knowing you are one of the bravest (and kinda scary in a fight) people he’s met since joining the sorcery world.

“He didn’t want any tea though. Maybe he’s a hot chocolate kinda guy.” You say, with a straight face, Yuuji looks at you for a moment and then bursts into hysterical laughter as you giggle about wrapping Sukuna in a blanket and giving him cocoa with tiny marshmallows. As you’re finishing your tea, Satoru walks (flounces) through the door and leans down to pepper your face with kisses. “Well if it isn’t my dearest, darling, sweetheart, angel wife. Are you ready to go home? I have some snacks for us before bed.” He says as you notice the bags behind his back. He then turns to Yuuji, “Huh, you have Sukuna cooties tonight. What did I miss?” Itadori turns his nose up at the residuals being called cooties. “It’s alright, ‘Toru. Sukuna decided to check out whether the rumor of more Gojo spawn was true. Got poor Yuuji out of bed for it and all.” You reassured him.

“Huh, well, you okay, baby? He didn’t upset you did he?” You loved that Satoru had so much faith in your abilities and strength that he knew he needed to be nothing but support for you, and you’d spoken before about his being surrounded by sorcerers was the safest place for Yuuji to be so you both knew Sukuna wouldn’t risk his chance. You weren’t dumb enough to think you could take down Sukuna alone - only Satoru could have a chance, but you could definitely hold him off with your powerful cursed technique long enough for Satoru to arrive. You kissed his cheek and nodded that you were absolutely fine.

“Gojo-sensei, she offered him tea. Sukuna.” Yuuji said, still in disbelief. “That’s my girl!” Hearing this, Satoru laughed and pulled you into his chest, beaming at his beautifully snarky, witty wife.

“Now, Satoru, let’s get home - it’s late. I can see you yawning, Yuuji, back to bed.” You usher him down the hall to his dorm and make sure he gets into bed, as he sleepily tumbles into his Spider-Man sheets you’d gotten a few months back, you whisper goodnight to him. As you were about to close the door, you hear a very sleepy, barely awake ‘gnight mom, night dad.’ You squeeze Satoru’s hand as you smile at each other, wordless but endless appreciation for what you just heard and have only ever heard from Megumi (rarely) and Tsumiki (you missed hearing it from her). You knew Yuuji would be back to Y/N and Gojo-Sensei tomorrow but now in a sleepy vulnerable moment that’s how he saw and felt about you both was enough to know you guys must be doing something right.

“Satoru, we should really stop picking up stray kids on the street and keeping them.” You giggle thinking of the siblings, Yuuji and the sweet boy you cared for currently in Africa with Miguel. “Hm, nah, we need a whole collection, our own army - now c’mon, the baby just said ‘Hey dad get mom home I want to have cuddles and mochi with you’” in the worst baby impression ever he squeaked at you and he picked you up bridal style to warp you home, but not before you get in a quiet “oh really, when did you become the womb whisperer? That sounds like you want that to me.”

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[ladystarksneedle]

A fall from grace

Chapter 1

Word count: 4.5k

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Melissa knew what she wanted ever since she was a girl. She wanted a place, utterly her own, to escape to when her father would come back drunk or her mother would fuss over her to the point of exhaustion. Something far away and high up so she could see the clouds and their fluffy borders shining around her through the daylight vaguely obscuring their familial beacon of green. She also knew didn't want to leave home. Oldtown was too embedded in her for her to want to part with it willingly.

She'd been told that she'd have to wed some day and being shipped away to a land further away from whatever civilization she'd come to know hardly seemed exciting, especially belonging to someone who'd try to lock her up for his own gain.

“It is time for you to grow up dearie” her septa had reminded her on many such occasions. “You’re to be a young lady of an important house someday. Better start by acting the part”

“I am already a lady of an important house” is what she always replied with and that was that.

“What are you dreaming of, cousin? Is your head lost in the clouds again”

She turned to face her companion for the day, half reclined on the lush settee nearby with his arm dangling off at an angle, restlessly trying to procure something just out of reach. “I thought you were sent here to look after me” he said mischievously.

“Does the prince have any more complaints that he wishes to enumerate” she found herself replying with a huff.

“Only that you haven't been paying close attention to him. I think you're far more interested in Tessarion than me” he said conspiratorially, leaning towards her.

She found herself shaking her head slightly, just enough to be polite rather than deny the accusation outright.

“You've been hurt your grace, you should be resting”

“And I'm tired of it”

“My father wouldn't approve of you further exerting yourself” she teased before they both broke into laughter. Her father was too lost in his own world to notice.

Gwayne Hightower was as eccentric as they came; brash, bold, foul mouthed and exciting. When she was younger, he'd taken her on his shoulders all around the city whenever she pleased, till her mother had screamed her throat raw and she'd giggled with delight throughout the winding cobbled streets. Her childhood had been full of fun, of colors so bright and laughter at every corner all till it wasn't. Being a maiden wasn't so bad, she just couldn't live the way she wanted to, in front of the eyes she wished to be free the most.

“You’re being sent there in my place Melissa. Try to look more cheerful”

“I'd hardly call it that. You'd be joining us in King's landing soon enough and I doubt Tessarion would do well without your presence for too long”

“We'd stick closer to home than venture out any soon”

She didn't miss the way his eyes wandered to the window, seeking her out wistfully. Prince Daeron had been a resident both of Oldtown and her father's shoulders, since as far as she could remember. He was the only one who had held the title of being equally spoiled as her. Her brothers came later on, much to their chagrin for his beloved sister's son, with his bright eyes and cheeky smile was far too cherished to be scolded. Besides he was a prince and despite being brought up in the same way as them and their cousins his name held more worth than all of them combined.

Daeron had been brought up in Lord Hobert’s household as a cupbearer for her uncle Lord Ormund. He'd eaten the same bread and served his family just as any of her cousins yet was awarded for all of it with a greater show of appreciation. The most however came from their cousin Bethany, the youngest and most capricious of the lot. She'd clung to him since childhood, always trailing behind him as his noisy shadow. She'd seen him go from encouraging to disparaging to enveloping her in his grace throughout the years, both delighting and irritating of her company at times yet always seeming to come back for more. As for Bethany, the word “besotted” was far too demure to explain what she felt for Prince Daeron.

“Help me up cousin, I wish to be free of my shackles” he asked, breaking her reverie.

“Not on my watch”

“I just need to sit upright Melissa”

“If only you'd been so careful on your mount”

He tutted in response, flicking a lock of silver falling on his face with a tilt of his head. “King’s landing has seemingly affected my young cousin before she's even stepped foot there. Where are your manners, young lady? You'll send any dashing lord running with them” he jested.

“What is it like?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her as she helped him sit up with assistance ignoring the jape at her countenance.

“You won't like it”

“In three words then”

Describing things they hadn't seen in three words was Gerold’s idea. Her little brother had come up with it one evening when he'd been upset at father not being able to tell his tale with the liveliness he usually mustered. It was a quick and easy way to know what the other meant when they were too irritable or distracted to make proper sense.

“Crowded, foul and family”

“That isn't saying much. I'd think it quite similar to Oldtown”

“Perhaps I'm not as descriptive as you'd like me to be, considering the position I'm in”

She laughed despite herself.

“You'll be fine, contrary to what I've said before. You have the courage of the Hightowers to make up for your lack of genteel”

“And you have the mouth of a sailor to make up for your lack of agility. Serving wine all day has dulled you up cousin”

“May the Gods pity the man you wed” he said with a huff plopping down again.

She laughed as she helped him settle back in before making her way to her own chambers, willing to enjoy whatever semblance of familiarity her home would offer till they departed soon.

-x-

Dinner was a lively affair. Most of the members of their house had been assembled in the giant hall of the High Tower for the occasion of sending them off in a grand way before they departed at noon on the morrow. She was to accompany her father on his journey to King's landing, which was more of an afterthought, hastily decided, given that she was now of age and was to be introduced to the highest and most influential bidder. Perhaps tonight was her last night of merriment before she faced her own war ahead.

The hall had been illuminated with flame, the lit candles and chandeliers casting green shadows which reflected through the stained glass of the seven around them, observing all that was happening with hidden wisdom of her own. It seemed more somber and foreboding than the guffaws which could be heard in between, almost as if the laughter of the lords held a tinge of insidiousness.

Things had been amiss ever since the incidence of Driftmark. They would get word from across the realm days after whatever incident had taken place yet its effects were almost always prolonged in this part of the world, predisposed to more speculation and over-thought. The crown and its allies were in shambles. That was what she concluded from all the murmuring around her. She wasn't often prone to exaggeration, only ever a bit when it came to matters more trivial but that is what appeared to her as she passed by animated whispers and indignant outbursts over chalices of wine.

She had also discerned that many of her elders thought her father to be incompetent for whatever they were being sent there for. The wrinkles of their noses and their vacant smiles of encouragement being passed around freely were proof enough.

Her eyes wandered to Daeron soon, propped up on one of the chairs surrounded by her own brothers and cousins equally engaged in an animated discussion with Bethany lingering nearby, long enough till she caught sight of her.

“Are you excited Melissa?” she asked, skipping over to her as she took her by the arm.

“Hardly” she responded distractedly, trying to focus on the talk around her.

“I would be if I were in your place but Lady Sam thinks I'm too young to be sent to the capitol. Father and her shall contemplate my own prospects closer to home” she replied with a giggle.

Lady Samantha was Bethany’s tactful step mother. Young and sharp, she always had a clever word to say, often ending even the most animated discussions with her quips. Her father, Lord Ormund had remarried years after their mother's death and was seemingly pleased with his new bride, as were most of the men of their house. It was the women who were far more wary of the charms of their sex, all except Bethany of course. For someone who contained equal parts naivety and wit she was all the more ignorant of the challenge in her way, something that lay much closer to home.

She knew the girl considered Daeron to be a suitable husband and he was in truth, dashing and charming as any prince she'd wager yet the dreams of her cousin were far too large for her. She couldn't blame her though, ambition had run in their lineage for generations.

“And how will you manage to secure prospects as such. I'm sure you've got something up your sleeve already dear cousin” she said as they continued meandering through the hall.

“Nothing much in particular just using my natural charms and talent of nursing”

“He doesn't need much of it”

“Well I shall help with it regardless. A kind gesture goes a long way”

“I'm sure it does Bethany yet he's no fool”

“I never took him to be one. I would hardly be interested if that were the case”

“They're planning much more for him” she said, suddenly willing for them to stop their promenade across the hall. “I know what you intend to do but I feel we're all embroiled in something far bigger than what is let on”

“Something you'll soon know once your visit bears fruit” she replied back delightedly.

“I don't think you understand cousin”

“I understand very well Melissa and I'm sure you'll keep me informed of all the interesting developments that take place.”

“I'll be frequent with my writing” she huffed back annoyed “You know I will”

“Well as frequent as I can be” she remarked sheepishly as Bethany gave her a pointed look. She could very well be imposing for someone so short.

“Everything shall work out well for us, you just need to be patient”

She hummed in response as they continued their walk slinking to the corners before getting engrossed in matters of triviality once again. Patience had never been one of her virtues.

-x-

She was woken up unexpectedly around the hour of the wolf. Her maid walked in with apologies on her tongue as she helped her with her dressing gown before presenting her to her mother and septa.

“You must greet the day with a smile Melissa” her mother said, hastening her towards her dresser to try and tame her hair.

“It is dark outside,” she remarked with a whine. “And we shan't leave till daybreak. Why must I make haste then?”

“She is not ready” her mother said, turning her head towards Septa Abigail who tutted in distaste.

“You must hold your nerve my lady. She is always disagreeable in the morn” she replied before disappearing into the shadows around her chambers.

Through her sleep-addled gaze she noticed a few of the candles nearby, almost close to being extinguished, indicating the early hour of the new day, bathing her chambers in their diminishing glow. She huffed impatiently as her mother got to work on her locks, teasing them into the elaborate hairdo of her own house. House Redwyne was known for their Arbour as well as their beauty although she supposed she hadn't inherited half of what her mother owned. She'd gone more after her father and was always told she made up for her lack of exceptional comeliness with unique charm.

“I've made sure everything is in order” said Septa Abigail, re emerging just as she had begun dozing off again.

“Thank you Septa,” her mother remarked. “There! You look much better Melissa. Now begin dressing while we go over what you've learnt”

“I am to not slouch or slump, to curtsey deeply bending as far as my knees can go without creaking, whenever I see someone above my station which is almost everyone there” she said earning a glare from her mother.

“And I'm to almost always greet everyone with respect and be polite even if I feel like stabbing them with the nearest fork I can find” she finished pirouetting to admire herself in the mirror ahead.

“And?”

“To address the Queen as befits her station before thinking of her as my aunt”

“And?”

“To be on my best behavior with her children?”

“And?”

“To beware of the dragon” she laughed with a mock roar as her maids finished helping her with her petticoat.

“It is a serious matter Melissa” her mother sighed, already exasperated with her answers.

“I won't involve myself with them unless absolutely necessary, mother. You worry too much. It is not good for the babe” she remarked, walking to hug her from the side before sneaking in a glance at herself again.

She had been dressed in emerald green silks with sleeves floating around her like the wings of a bird, reaching the middle of her stature. The middle of her bodice and skirts were a lighter green emerging through the silks in crepe, like the tower of their house, before fanning out in green swirls around her square neckline. Her attire was surprising as it was sure to wrinkle throughout their journey but she supposed her mother wanted her to look her best as a representative of their home when she was presented. She felt too much of a present in truth, waiting to be unwrapped, despite the fact that she did indeed look quite pretty.

“Only because you're too curious for your own good and seem to court trouble at every instance. Why must we leave her alone again Abigail?”

“Because you're in no condition to travel my lady and I'm tasked with looking after you. Besides you’ll be free of your troubles soon enough” she replied back winking at her.

“Jesting at dawn won’t do you any good Septa. What would the Mother think of your lack of mercy?” she said with mock indignation before turning towards her own “I'll be alright, don’t trouble yourself too much. You’ll have another little one to do so soon enough”

“Not as sweet as you my sweetling. There’s no one quite as lovely as my little flower” she replied, kissing her cheeks.

They were soon bundled up in the courtyard around the hour of the nightingale after a few grumbles from father. Gerold and Gilbert had been woken up to bid them goodbye and Prince Daeron had even gotten in a word of good luck before dozing off again. He'd soon be moved back to his old quarters, near Lord Ormund before joining them in a fortnight.

“When will you be back, father?” Gerold asked solemnly as he stood next to mother.

“Before this one is born boy” he replied, bending to kiss his mother sloppily. She could see her smile through it and wish him well.

“Take care of her Gwayne” her mother spoke with a sigh.

“You know I will” he replied back cheekily kissing her again. “She and I are going to have the most splendid time,” he responded merrily “And I'll be back before you know it” he finished kissing her belly.

She heard Gilbert roar a goodbye before circling around her like a dragon and attempting to stab father with a small, blunt knife.

“By the Gods boy, looks like there won't be any trouble for your mother while I'm gone”

“It's good I didn't give him a real one” he whispered to her as they mounted the carriage for their journey.

The last thing she heard as their retinue left was a chorus of “bye sister” “take care my love” “don't let your father drink too much” and declarations of care trailing behind as she stared wistfully out the window.

-x-

The journey to King's landing was far from eventful. Her father was drunk nearly an hour after they'd left, guzzling through his hidden stash of arbour red as soon as they'd passed through the city gates.

“Is this how you're going to be for the entirety of our journey? Cheer up sweetling” he said, slumping forwards in front of her.

“Pass me some of your wine”

“Your mother told me to keep you in check”

“I think that was meant as advice for me more than you” she responded. “Please I'm sick of sitting like an ornament. This dress crinkles even if I move an inch and I'm stiff already. Let me bear this price with ease”

“You make good arguments for yourself,” he said after a while, ignoring her complaints.

“Grandfather would be proud”

“Pissed more likely. Then again since you aren't his own child, he'd very likely approve of your wit”

“Is he that demanding?” she murmured, wringing her hands.

“More than Septa Abigail when she used to strike your knuckles for your awful recitation” he snorted.

“As if you were any better. Do you even remember a passage of the seven pointed star?”

“This isn't about me,” he retorted rather sheepishly.

“Can you recite one drunk as you are?”

“Perhaps if I put my mind to it”

“We have all the time in the world”

“And I'd rather not waste it on the seven” he huffed.

“They may hear you,” she said teasingly.

“Then I'd toast to their health and spend heartily for their cause from one of our coffers in abject penance” he mocked.

“What awaits us there?” she asked after a long pause. Her father had taken to staring out the windows and shouting a few slurred orders to the coachman in between, urging him to take another route to their next destination.

“Adventure” he replied with gleaming eyes and upon noticing her dissatisfaction he continued “You are to meet a few suitors arranged by father, whenever possible and we'll decide who's most suitable for a match”

“And then” she asked impatiently.

“And then you'd be wed, probably in a few moons time”

“So I'm to be auctioned”

“Exactly”

“You are not helping my nerves” she bit back irritated at the turn in conversation.

“Want some of this now” he said ignoring her remark.

“Please”

“At our next stop then. We should be reaching Highgarden soon”

She caught the scent of roses long before they were wheeled into the city. The sweetness as pleasant and aromatic as it was to her induced a bout of rather wretched sickness in her father who ordered the carriage to be stopped for him to empty his gut. Unlocking the lattice window, she peeked her head out to notice they'd stopped near an inn, obscure and at the outskirts of the main market.

“We're stopping here for a break my lady. Your father has ordered some refreshments for you”

Nearly an hour later they were on the move again with bellies full of a batch of cheap lemon tarts and flowing arbor red.

“You didn't think I'd stop just to vomit. These are the best tangy ones in town.”

“Bethany plans to marry Prince Daeron” she said suddenly. Perhaps the wine had already gone to her head or she just needed a better distraction. It worked either way, her father's ears had perked up pretty fast.

“What? Oh, you do not jest? Well she's well beyond herself.”

“Because he's a prince?”

“She isn't half as comely to be a princess.”

“Not all princesses are comely”

“And how would you know that?”

“Id assumed there was much more than beauty”

“She's too lazy to be one or perhaps that's a good start for her”

“That's what Lady Sam says and is entirely untrue. Since when do you fall for what is being gossiped about”

“She has a sister doesn't she?” he continued distractedly.

“Lady sam? Yes, her name’s Sansara”

“Hmm they plan to arrange another alliance with our house”

“With another Tarly?”

“I know! As if one wasn't enough” he replied excitedly.

“And here you were raving about her judgment moments ago”

“That tart?”

“Father!”

“It is only true”

“She's said to be the sweetest in Oldtown”

“The sailors have lost their taste at sea, if that is what's going around. Perhaps we ought to check on them more often”

“I thought you enjoyed a certain sweetness to things, like arbour red?”

“Sweet smiles and sharp tongues, yes, ones much closer to home”

“You're very charming, but too drunk to tell the difference”

“Perhaps that's a charm by itself. Your mother fell for it anyway” he finished. “Your husband shall not be such a drunk though. I'll make sure of it”

The rest of their journey passed in bouts of sleepiness, dozing off at awkward angles and swings of more wine. The nights and days often blurred together with the same monotony till they reached the edge of the capital.

“What is it now?” her father asked impatiently on the fifth day of their trip.

“The wheel on the back appears to have busted my lord. We'll hurry up and be back on the road in time” one of their guards replied.

The problem with traveling long distances however was that something almost always came up towards the end of journeys as such and often when one was wholly unprepared. The wheel took longer to be fixed and there were not enough horses to carry them to their destination.

“They've sent for the royal carriage. We just have to wait it out” her father said, pinching the bridge of his nose in distaste.

“How long will that take?” she asked nervously.

“A little while more. You needn't worry. I for one need a jug of cheap ale to get me through this fateful morn”

“Grandfather?” she asked, raising her eyebrows earning an exasperated huff in return.

Nearly an hour later, when the sun was the highest in the sky, she heard the sound of strong hooves nearby. Her father had ordered her to lock the windows lest someone unsavory caught wind of their cargo. She had long accepted that she was one over the journey, it was much easier that way. She heard a couple of murmurs outside spotting a man in armour of the kingsguard near the gate before it was flung open in haste.

A middle aged man, dornish by the looks of it, opened the gate for her and offered her his hand.

“Apologies for the delay my lady” he spoke with an accent, a grim and unfaltering expression on his face

“It wasn't much trouble Ser” she responded putting her lessons to practice.

As she descended the steps of her busted enclosure her eyes caught sight of two new horses, black and white adorned with the drapes of the three headed dragon with her father busy in conversation with a taller head of silver nearby.

“Ah there she is, hurry up into our ride Melissa I'll be with you soon” he exclaimed.

Despite her father's instructions she found it hard to tear her gaze from the man ahead. He looked sharp and lean, standing with his hands clasped behind his back as he caught her gaze, his lone eye piercing into her own. She saw it leisurely take her in as her father rambled along oblivious to his surroundings before he looked behind her and gave a sharp nod.

“Prince Aemond Targaryen my lady, the second son of King Viserys and Queen Alicent Hightower, rider of Vhagar, the queen of dragons” the knight of the kingsguard boomed next to her.

Her father looked behind him sheepishly and she fought the urge to roll her eyes as she was formally introduced.

“Yes, and this is Lady Melissa Hightower my first born daughter and your cousin”

She saw the prince step forward at her introduction giving her a swift nod in acknowledgement as she remembered to curtsey in time.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance my prince” she spoke not taking her eyes off him. Up close she could see the eye patch obscuring a jagged scar running through his left eye and the chiseled planes of his face, quite unlike his brother, as he regarded her in silence.

“Well now that the children have been introduced let's move ahead shall we?” her father said merrily “Ser Criston, take me to the best inn in the city before we make our way back” he continued walking towards the horses.

“Father?”

“Worry not sweetling I'll join you in the keep. The prince shall be much finer company instead” he said, mounting the black horse in a hurry.

Her companion whipped around to object and she saw Ser Criston frown before making his way to his own horse with a sigh.

“Let the children get to know each other Cole, come on. Do you not have any fun in the city? Is Alicent keeping you locked up with herself these days?” he bellowed, galloping away.

She saw the prince frown, eye narrowing in distaste as she looked ahead mortified. It was perhaps best to be done for the day she thought, rushing to the carriage, away from the embarrassment before tripping on the steps herself.

“Careful” she heard a smooth voice next to her. She felt a hand steadying her back and another holding her by her arm preventing her fall as she made her way inside with help.

“There's another step to be taken when entering a royal carriage” he remarked as he followed her in.

“My apologies, your grace” she murmured, earning a hum in response.

The journey to the city passed in silence. She found herself wrinkling her nose as they entered, hit by the unfamiliar stench of sweat and something undeniably foul.

“How is my brother?” he inquired as they neared the gates of the keep.

“He's well your grace. You should be expecting a raven from him soon” she spoke and was met again with a solemn nod.

As they halted at the outer gates and were announced again she felt the familiar rush of nervousness run through her.

“Remember the step” he spoke before leaving and breaking her reverie. She found him at the base of the steps staring up at her with an intensity she tried to shrug off as she clasped his extended hand to descend.

“Thank you” she whispered before being faced with a sea of green, unable to focus on the change in surroundings so unlike home yet familiar all the same. A flutter of warmth crept into her as she stared ahead and thought “Did all Targaryens have hands that made one tingle?”

Taglist: @witheredoffherwitch @arcielee @barbieaemond @succnfuccubus @watercolorskyy @paprikaquinn

[azures-bazar]

Cradle of Forest

Another one with a soft Arthur !

This one was a bit rushed, I'm sorry for my mistakes.

I've made the gif just above using a female model, but don't mind it ! The reader is Gender Neutral here !

Arthur Morgan x GenderNeutral!reader

Word count : 2.25k

Short summary : As you take a break from the gang to get some fresh air, Arthur believes you're going to leave them once and for all.

A/note : The forest around Clemens Point is BIG.

Tags : fluff, Arthur is crying here, anxiety, forest by night, chapter 3, Clemens Point, comfort, moonlight

You finally had time to escape from the rest of the gang, being overwhelmingly exhausted by Sean’s loud voice. MacGuire was drunk and, probably out of a misplaced pride, kept shouting it out loud that night. You could not get any rest after being on guard duty all day long, his tent was unfortunately next to yours. And listening to him brag about the few more whiskeys he could drink before passing out only made you feel nervous, if not angry at him. You liked his attitude and carefree personality. However, that night, you needed some quiet. And he was not willing to give you any sort of rest.

You had silently left the gang for a few minutes, to say the least. This is what you really thought, you just needed to clear your mind. You knew Dutch would not stand a deserter, so you did your best not to be noticed, slipping from your tent like a snake, hiding in the shadows of Clemens Point’s trees. You then proceeded passing between Lenny and Charles, being on guard duty, running a little away from the camp to get closer to Clemens Cove. You liked this place a lot, as it was peaceful enough to make you forget about Dutch’s flaws. The latter had spent a vast majority of his day trying to give you a speech about faith while you were patrolling around the hideout, but you did not feel in the mood.

The moon was shining brightly that night, giving you a clear view of the path that was ahead. A few rays of moonlight guided you through the trees before you would get to your desired destination, you loved the sight of the lake by night. In the end, you decided not to go any further, being far away enough for the camp and hidden between these trees, in a beautiful glade. However, quickly enough, you had noticed someone had been following you.

"Excuse me."

You turned back, quickly recognising Arthur’s voice. He was standing a feet away from you, his arms crossed on his chest. Arthur could not sleep that night either, so he spent some time smoking near the central tree before witnessing you leaving your tent. Despite trusting you, your distant ethereal sight made him drop his cigarette and silently follow you with a set of negative emotions, hiding behind the nearest tree in case you would turn back. However, he had decided to leave his hiding spot to face you.

"Arthur ?" you gasped

"Didn’t know you were a wanderer !" he laughed

"I… I couldn’t sleep."

"Me neither, Y/N. Me neither."

You both sighed, awkwardly looking at each other for a moment before the two of you started chuckling. What a very peculiar place to meet ! However, Arthur’s soft laugh was not forcibly made of happy thoughts, he was releasing a sudden anxiety your short departure had triggered.

"Don’t tell Dutch." you smiled. "You know how he reacts and…-"

"Why would I tell Dutch ?"

"I don’t know, ‘cause you’re like his son and you often tell him everything and… well…"

"And ?"

Arthur tilted his head and dramatically rose his left eyebrow with a smirk. He did really expect you to finish your sentence, but his soft smile and charming glance felt like someone had cursed you, taking away your ability to speak. How handsome he was, you could not deny it ! And these rays of moonlight caressing his broad shoulders and a half of his face were not helping you finding your best words ! You blushed, not being able to voice your thoughts anymore. Arthur felt incomprehension, you could feel how confused he was, still doing his best to display his most beautiful grin.

"And… I can’t even remember what I wanted to say." you shrugged. "You’re gonna take me back to camp, huh ?"

"No. Sean’s not asleep yet."

He chuckled, moving closer to you, gently placing his large hands on your hips. You could feel how sweaty his hands were and, as you placed yours above his arms, you gave him your most concerned look. Arthur was never really talking about his short moments of anxiety, his hands and eyes always spoke for him. The two of you had been close since your induction into the gang, you could easily read his emotions from his gesture or his eyes. At this moment, you knew he had certainly felt a sudden burst of anxiety, judging by his sweaty hands which were still shaking above your hips.

"Is something wrong ?" you asked

"No."

"You sure ?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. He hated having you worry about him. Whenever you would voice your concern, he would tell you he’s not a child to be worried about. Indeed, Arthur was not a child ! But you loved him so much that any single negative emotion coming from him always felt like a stab in the heart. You just wanted his happiness and knew he would not get what he deserved as long as Dutch would belittle him the way he did. You had seen the leader often talking about Arthur as a teenager, Morgan himself appeared to behave differently when he was around him anyway. In a way, you were quite right to worry, since Arthur was not feeling very well.

You quickly looked into his pale eyes, your thumbs stroking his large arms. The way his eyebrows moved, his eyes twitched, his lips softly wobbled… everything made you feel more than concerned about what your favourite Van der Linde boy felt at the moment. You could finally notice a tear roll on his cheek, causing you to quickly move your hands up to his face. However, you had no time to reach his cheeks, Arthur had quickly grabbed you against him, holding you so close that he could easily break your spine.

"Arthur…? What’s wrong ?" you asked, shaking

You heard Arthur sniff a little, his hands firmly clutched onto your shirt. He buried his face into your hair, biting his lips. You felt your heart rate increase as you quickly felt like you were the one responsible. His tears started rolling down your neck, you shakily rubbed his back. You had done something wrong, and you knew it. Even if your escape had probably been harmless, Arthur was left terrified.

"I thought you was gonna leave…" he mumbled

Arthur had one fear since Dutch brought you in, only one. It was to see you leave. He had lost so many other folks due to his lifestyle that the sole idea of seeing your empty tent without any of your belongings was the only thing he dreaded. His lifestyle made him loose Mary, Eliza and Isaac, friends and flings before meeting you. You were his ray of sunlight, the brightest star in his empty sky, the most beautiful flower of his garden. You brought him joy and happiness, he could not even imagine himself without you anymore.

The sole sight of you leaving the hideout made Arthur shiver. He had followed you, deeply terrified you would not come back, dreading your disappearance like plague. Arthur trusted you enough, but he could not trust the rest of the world around you. You could feel how much he loved you as one of his hands moved from your waist to your hair, you shakily hushed him. Arthur was sobbing in your embrace and there was nothing you could do to stop his cries.

"Oh, Arthur…" you whispered, still shocked by his thoughts about you leaving the gang

"I’m sorry, Y/N…" he sobbed, quickly stepping back while you kept him into your embrace. "I’m… I hate cryin’, you know. And… I hate having you worry ‘bout me."

"Arthur, I was not going to leave !"

Arthur looked down, unable to face you. He was ashamed about being seen crying, especially by his special one. He thought his tears would make him lose all his credibility as a raspy voiced cowboy, as your personal bodyguard and overall pillar. Whenever you felt bad, you could easily talk to him. He would be the one to hold you close, caress your skin, kiss you, even holding you against him until you would fall asleep. He was the one who had been around you since you came, the one who had spent time inside your tent, reassuring you whenever you felt bad, watching over you until you would fall asleep. He was ashamed that his sobs he could barely control would make him look bad.

Your hands quickly moved to his face, forcing him to turn his head towards you. Tears kept flowing on his cheeks, he could not stop them. As your eyes met his, he quickly bit his lower lip and tried looking down, but your hands firmly held his head on place. There was no way for him to run away from your embrace, unless he would use his force. And, since Arthur was terrified of hurting you, you knew he would never do it.

"Listen carefully, Morgan." you said. "I’m never going to leave you. Ever. I love you too much to leave you behind, and I swear, I’ll be with you until I die."

"Really…?" Arthur hiccupped with a smile

"There’s no way I’m leaving such a handsome cowboy behind. No damn way."

Arthur chuckled, ready to disagree with you about his physical appearance. You allowed your hands to move to his shoulders, quite relieved to see him smile. He kept crying behind his grin, not able to stop all these crocodile tears to roll down his cheeks. You gently rubbed his arms, kissing his lips in the process. You could not leave him like that without sharing a kiss !

"I love you, Arthur." you whispered. "More than my anyone in this damn world."

Your relationship was both strange and beautiful to anyone’s eyes, the brightest picture of two folks who never expected to fall for each other. He loved you, his eyes were quick to express it before he would even voice his feelings. He had stars in his eyes, more than the ones the sky had to offer. He loved every single attention you gave him, and a kiss was probably the purest one of them. The best feeling for him to feel better.

"I love you too." he whispered

How hard it was to resist to this beautiful voice ! You smiled, kissing him another time. The scenery was just too perfect for you both not to share at least one kiss ! Arthur held you against him while your lips touched so beautifully, causing you to feel like the two of you had fused into one being. One entity, so pure and so wicked at once. A couple of outlaws, kissing in a beautiful forest under the moonlight… what a sight to be painted ! He did not mind, as long as you were with him.

You spent an hour or two in this forest, enjoying each other’s presence. Arthur kept kissing you, relieved about what you had told him. The forest around you felt like the most beautiful place for you to be at, this small glade felt like a cradle. The cradle of this beautiful small forest near Clemens Point, where the two of you felt home, felt free. No gang, no duty, just the two of you, with the sound of the leaves above your heads. It was perfect, it felt great.

At some time, the two of you started feeling a little tired, heading back to the hideout. Sean was asleep, thankfully. Most of the gang was asleep, only a few night owls like Micah were still sitting by the fire, but they did not bother. Arthur firmly held your hand as you guided him past his tent, quickly hearing Dutch and Molly argue about something while you walked by. As you settled on the broken dock, Arthur sat near you and, a few minutes later, laid down to place his head on your thighs. It was a rather surprising move from this cowboy, but you liked it.

By resting his head on your thighs, Arthur felt safe, and knew you were safe as well. Somehow, it reminded him of his youth, as he used to lay his head on his mother’s thighs when he was a small child, whenever he would cry or simply feel sad about something. He had never done such thing with you before, he never dared. However, that night, as exhausted as he was after this wave of emotions, all he needed was to be with you. Nothing else mattered but feeling you close to him. He even moaned of pleasure, knowing his head rested on your thighs !

You watched the moon shining above the two of you as Arthur closed his eyes. You gently caressed his hair with a smile, enjoying having this tank-shaped cowboy resting on you. You knew Arthur would probably not display such a behaviour afterwards, so you just enjoyed it and allowed him to fall asleep. You kept glancing around to check if nobody was watching, Micah was not to be seen. He was probably drinking some whiskey with Bill, you could hear them talk about something. However, right at this moment, nothing else mattered. It was just Arthur.

Only Arthur.

[donteattheappleshook]

Not Broken At All Chapter 16/?

Summary:

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

Rated E

Catch up on Ao3 (where my italics work) or on Tumblr 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

Oh hey, remember me? Remember this story I haven't updated in a year…… Please don't hate me lol Sorry for how long this took - this chapter was just impossible to write and time just kept passing. I'm hoping there won't be such a long break again but I know better than to make promises.

Hopefully some of you are still reading this and enjoy this new chapter!

Note that I made a small change to the last chapter (which fixed this one). You don't have to read it, just know that the lost boys who died on the beach are still out there.

Anyway… here you go! Sorry!

Thank you as always to @the-darkdragonfly for letting me just throw ideas at you about this story all the time and putting up with all the changes! 💕💕 And thank you @kmomof4 for looking this over and helping me decide on the ending 💕 (You can blame her! I kid... mostly)

Small content/trigger warning: This chapter includes more of the aftermath of the hunt. There are no children actively hurt in this chapter but there are bodies and burials and grief.

*******

Part 16

“Mom?”

The thundering of her heart rips her from sleep, hollow and echoing with the blood rushing in her ears, painful in her chest. But there’s only darkness in the small room of the ship, eyes wide and unfocused, the remnants of a dream she can’t remember still making shapes in the dark. She could have sworn she heard it, like it was there in the room with her. But there's no one here - only Killian still in the bed next to her, the arm that had held her close before now outstretched beneath her as he sleeps. A dream. Neverland playing tricks on her - or one of the lost boys above deck calling out to the dark for their mother. 

“Momma?” That one’s real, quieter. One of the children must have found a way down, wandering the halls looking for someone he’ll never find. “Mummy…” That one is heartbreaking. She rises from the bed, Killian not stirring as she slips from the sheets and makes her way quietly across and out of the room. The boys were told not to come down here - better she find whoever it is than one of the pirates. “Mom?” There’s no one there to accompany the sound in the dim light of the lantern outside the cabin and she hesitates, looking towards where the disembodied voice came from. Whoever they are, it sounds like they’re making their way back to the deck on their own… “Mom?” 

The word cuts through her, paralyzes her, heart so tight in her chest she can’t breathe. Henry. She knows his voice - already so deeply ingrained in every part of her being after such a short time that hearing it now is like a piece of herself lost and calling out to be found. 

“Emma?” Softer, getting further away from her - losing him all over again. Her bare feet make no sound as she runs past the crew’s quarters, past the bosun’s room and the galley towards the deck. The door creaks wearily as she climbs the steps and opens it to the night air. The lost boys are asleep - all of them - every single one exhausted from the horrors of the day and she pads carefully through the bodies - sleeping and dead - searching. Henry’s not among them. The ship holds that eerie Neverland silence she can’t get used to, no crashing of waves or rustle of wind, the faint discordant song of the Lorelei the only hiss of sound as it floats in and out on the sea. 

“Mom?” 

Her eyes snap to the back of the Jolly. “Henry?” she hisses. 

“Mom!” Emma nearly stumbles over a sleeping child as she tries to catch up to him before he’s lost to her again. He found her. Of course he did, just like before. She should have known he would. She rounds the helm, heart pounding so violently it reaches the stern before she does. But there’s no one there, again, just an empty deck where a child should be, where her son should be. 

“Where are you?” There’s nowhere else to search, only the sea that surrounds them.

“Emma?” Wendy is standing in front of her, head cocked. “What are you doing up here?” 

She looks towards where her son should be, where the voice no longer calls out to her. There’s nothing there, no one, just the sleeping boys, just Will. 

“Did you see him?”

“See who?” 

“Henry. Did you see him? Did you see where he went?” 

“Henry? There’s no one else up here. It’s just me and the new recruits. You must have been dreaming.”

“I know what I heard. I know my son.” The other woman’s expression turns pitying and Emma’s shoulders tense. “I heard him.” 

Wendy’s frown deepens and when she speaks her voice has the same tone that hers had when she’d been trying to calm Hook in the hospital, the one you use to console a crazy person. “I’m sure you did.”

“It wasn’t a dream.” But even as she says it she starts to doubt her own words. There’s no sign of him, no sign that he was ever here. Wendy wouldn’t lie about that. 

She sighs. “I believe you.” She does, but she also doesn’t believe Henry’s on the ship either. Emma goes to the ship’s edge, careful not to trip over any sprawled limbs, and squints out at the beach against the sun that’s just starting to rise. Maybe he’s not on the Jolly. Maybe he’s somewhere out there. There’s no sign of him on the blood soaked sand and relief settles like a stone in her throat even as the fear of not knowing where he is rises up again. “Neverland plays tricks, Emma.” Wendy joins her at the bow, leaning against the rail, back straight and alert as she looks out at the carnage before them. “You can’t trust anything you hear. The shadows’ll do anything to lure you out.”

“The shadows?”

A nod. “They see into your dreams, see what it is you want most and use it against you. It’s how so many of the boys end up here in the first place.” Wendy’s shoulders sag a little, looking out at the bodies on the beach. It’s the closest Emma’s seen her come to breaking the hard mask she’s worn so well since the hunt started - the real person behind the cold captain. “And now they’ll never leave.”

“What happens to the bodies?” she asks, looking back at the dead, carefully wrapped in sheets on the deck.

“We bury the ones who made it here at sea. Neverland takes back the rest.” 

Emma frowns, eyes darting to the shore. “What do you mean it takes them back?” 

“They become the shadows that live in Dark Hollow, whispering to Pan, finding children, his way of keeping an eye on the outside world. He’ll come at sundown to collect them.” 

“They become the shadows?” she swallows, cold dread tasting bitter at the thought of all those kids having to become Pan’s creatures, forced to do his bidding forever. “The boys?”

Wendy nods and her stomach drops. 

“What about the ones who died here? Will they be shadows too?” 

She shakes his head. “Neverland magic can’t touch this ship. Whatever enchantment’s on it is powerful enough to keep even the darkness away.” Neverland can’t find you here. 

Emma hears her sigh when she looks back out at that beach. “Don’t even think about it.” She’s thinking about it. “He gets to keep his winnings. Those are the rules of the game. Those rules keep us alive.” 

She doesn’t answer, only gives the captain a small nod, thoughts still spinning with the cruelty of it all, that even in death these children can’t escape Pan. Wendy puts a hand on her shoulder, the gesture surprisingly consoling, the mask slipping again. “You’re not the only one who wishes it could be different.” 

Emma nods, grim and defeated, and Wendy pats her shoulder with a tight-lipped smile before turning towards where some of the children have started to stir. 

She wishes she could say she thought about it longer, or at all, really. But all she can think of is every single kid she knew growing up, all the ones who fell through the cracks, the ones who were given up on or abandoned, all the adults who threw up their hands and said there was nothing they could do - that was just how the system worked, that rules had to be followed. Fuck that. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” 

Wendy’s shout echoes above her, cut off by the water when she plunges into it. It takes her deeper than she expected it to, the fall further than she thought, but she kicks wildly, eyes burning against the salt until she breaks the surface. And then she’s swimming, boots and vest heavy against the waves, hat lost somewhere between the ship and the surface, but she keeps going. She can make this swim, she’s made it before - and she has a purpose now. 

She stumbles as she climbs onto the beach, the tide pulling at her knees and then her ankles like it’s trying to draw her back to where it’s safe. Emma fights it, running and slipping across the sand once it’s hot and dry beneath her feet and collapsing beside the first boy she finds. He’s tall and wiry, limbs stretched out, calf-like, not yet grown into his elbows and knees. And now he never will. 

She kneels beside him, stroking his cheek before closing his eyes. Salt water drips onto his skin, turning dried blood fresh again as she tells him she’s sorry - that this happened, that she couldn't do anything to stop it, that Pan gets to keep living. She doesn’t know how long she just sits there with him, looking out at all the other kids who won’t ever go home. 

“Swan…” No. She’s not going back - not leaving them here. She slides her arms under the boy’s shoulders, heaving his limp, heavy frame onto her chest, not sure how she plans to get him back to the ship, just that she will. “Swan.” She ignores it, digging her heels into the sand, trying to plant them under her enough that she can get to her feet. But it slips away beneath her boots and she falls on her ass again and again. She’s not leaving him here. She’s not leaving any of them here.

“Swan.” 

“What!” she snaps, barely looking up at him, wet hair plastered to his face, coat left behind, shirt soaked in water and salt. She can’t get her legs steady enough beneath her, can’t lift the kid any higher into her arms, so she starts to drag him back across the beach, holding tight to his chest as she makes it inch by inch, blonde head rolling limply against her shoulder. 

“Emma,” Killian says softly when she stumbles, she and the boy fall back against the sand. If he says her name one more goddamn time… His hand is gentle on her arm, stopping her as she moves to stand again and she looks up, ready for a fight, whatever she has to, but she’s taking this kid back to his stupid, magical ship where he can rest in fucking peace. 

But his gaze isn’t scolding, not a warning or even pity and he reaches for the boy in her arms, taking his weight from her and hoisting him over his shoulder. He fixes her carefully with a solemn, resolved stare when she stands to meet his gaze. “There’ll be consequences.” 

She looks back towards the shoreline where Will and Wendy are standing by the dinghy. “Do you care?” she asks him, turning to the others, “Do any of you care?” There are more coming out of the water now, pirates and lost boys marching onto the beach.

The residual anger fades from Wendy’s eyes, hardening into something different, and then she kneels beside a small body, this one looking too young to have been on this side of the hunt. “John didn’t make it off the beach,” is all she says before lifting him from the sand and meeting Emma’s eyes with equal determination. 

Will shrugs. “Pan already wants me dead,” he says, bending to pick up another child, cradling the boy to his chest. “Might as well be for a good reason.”

Slowly, the others begin doing the same, gathering the fallen, some searching for brothers, friends, others finding any they can carry. Emma follows Killian’s gaze to where two older kids come to the aid of a young boy trying to pick up a bigger body that bears him a painful resemblance - a brother no doubt. She doesn’t miss the way Killian watches them carry him across the beach, the younger boy not letting go of his brother’s sleeve. He’d lost his brother here as well, to Pan’s cruelty. She wonders how long ago it was, wonders if any amount of time matters. 

Emma follows Killian as he brings the tall boy’s body to the dinghy and sets him down gently. 

“So what now, Swan?” he says, turning to look at the Lost Boys gathering their fallen friends, “You’ve declared war on Pan. And these boys will follow you to the end now. Where will you lead them?” 

Emma spares another glance at the beach, at the pirates that were Lost Boys and the Lost Boys that will be pirates, all of them stolen from their lives and their families for Pan’s enjoyment. “Home. When this is over, and Pan is dead, we’re taking them home. All of them.”

“Aye,” he says, with an edge of something she can’t place in his voice, his gaze holding hers just a moment too long before he moves to collect another body, damp skin and drying shirt becoming stained with someone else’s blood. He hesitates, casting a glance back at her. “They aren’t the only ones who’ll follow you,” he tells her before turning and walking back towards the shore.

***

There are twice as many bodies on the deck as there had been last night, a sea of white cloth laid out on the bow of the Jolly like snowfall, twice as many ghosts wrapped in sheets waiting to be buried at sea. There are twice as many lost boys too, half of them no longer cowering by the edge of the ship’s rail, gazing longingly out at the island they’d just escaped. Instead they stand in rows, backs straight and heads bowed, already falling in line, already soldiers as they wait for their captain to speak. 

They’d sailed further from land than Emma’s been since they first arrived, the water deeper here, where no light can reach the depths even with the sun burning high and bright above them, and no shadows can be cast. “They’re weakest when the sun is at its peak, where the light can’t cast them further,” Wendy had explained. “At night though… at night the whole world is shadow.” 

Killian stands tense before them, Wendy and Will at his side, the two captains and their first mates. There’s something off in the line of his shoulders, in the way his thumb keeps sliding over the rings he wears. She’d seen him in the aftermath of the hunt, surrounded by the bodies, used to death and slaughter and cruelty. He’d held back then, composed and calm as always around the boys and young men that had survived. But as he looks at the sea of white, the cannonballs tied to their ankles that will drag them all down into the darkness where the shadows can’t reach them, she can see him losing that tenuous grip on his cool indifference. So can Wendy, if the hint of sympathy barely cracking through her own harsh disguise is anything to go on. 

When she thinks that he might not manage it, that his first mate might have to step in and take over, he lets out a bitter sigh. “Best not to draw it out.” Will steps forward, he and Killian lifting the closest body onto a plank balanced on the rail, held steady by two of the older crewmen - both barely out of their teens - preparing to tilt the body into the sea. 

Before he can raise his hand to signal the order, a small boy appears at his side, and Killian freezes. Emma hadn’t seen him break rank, hadn’t seen him make his way across the deck - no more than seven or eight years old.  She recognizes him, the one who’d been trying to carry his brother on the beach. She wonders what he could have possibly done for Pan to decide he’d had his fill of time in Neverland. 

The boy’s coat is tattered and dirty from however long he’d been in the jungle, and her reaches into it to pull something out, and then stretches as far as he can to reach across the body that’s nearly at eye level with him. And there, in the center of white sheet, he sets a baseball card down on the fallen boy’s chest. 

Emma doesn’t breath, the men holding the plank staring at the card, everyone on deck silent and frozen. The child moves to Killian’s side then, tugging at the thick leather of his sleeve until the captain leans down and gives the boy his attention. “Jack.” 

A strange sort of uncertainty falls over the crowd at the sound of the lost boy’s name. This is clearly not how things are done. Even the newest recruits shift uncomfortably - waiting. She watches the understanding settle in the line of Killian’s shoulders as he nods at the newest member of his crew. After a moment, one of the men who’d been holding the plank reaches out and tucks the card into the folds of the sail and then looks to his captain. Killian turns to the boy before nodding again.

“Jack,” he repeats, loud enough for everyone to hear.

There’s barely a splash as the body disappears beneath the surface, hardly a sound in that chilling stillness that Neverland possessed, but it resonates across the deck and Emma feels something shift. Wendy moves to help lift the next body onto the plank as Killian waits. A name is called from somewhere near the back, too quiet to place among the rows of former lost boys, but Killian repeats it as he had first one and there’s a moment of solemnness before another splash echoes across the deck. 

He names each of them -they all do - friends and brothers calling out to identify the fallen, to remember them before they’re laid to rest where Pan will never find them, where he’ll never hurt them again. 

***

“What do you think he’ll do?” 

Killian looks up at her standing in his doorway, shirt slipping over his head, catching on his hook. “Pan?” He sets to working the fabric free, hair windswept and sticking up at strange angles, skin still marked with the blood of the children he’d carried. 

Emma nods. He’d said there’d be consequences and she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it since they’d gotten the last boy off the beach and onto the ship, his body wrapped in a sheet and sent to the depths with the others.

“I don’t know, but he won’t be happy.” 

She worries her lip between her teeth, casting a glance down the hall to the steps where overhead the boys are being introduced to their new life of piracy. “Darling makes ‘em spend days scrubbing the ship clean when they first come aboard. Says it ‘builds character’,” Will had explained. “Let it go already - it’s been nine years.” 

“Not having second thoughts, are you?” 

She shakes her head. She knows she did the right thing, that the children that died yesterday deserved some amount of dignity, of care, even in death, that those who lived deserved to see that they mattered, that they would be missed, that they wouldn’t be cast aside or forgotten. And that they wouldn’t be forced to be a tool in Pan’s neverending need for more playthings. 

“No, but I guess… I guess I didn’t consider that the consequences might not just be mine.” He could come for any of them. As far as Pan knows, she doesn’t exist. But Killian and Wendy, Will and everyone else on this ship could fall victim to Pan’s anger because of her. 

“Every person out there made a choice today, Swan. Something they haven’t been able to do in a very long time.” He finally gets the shirt free of his brace and lifts his gaze to hers. “Whatever consequences befall us now, the burden will be all of ours to bear. Not just yours.” He waits until she nods in agreement, then moves to dip his hand and hook into a basin, Emma watching as the water turns a murky red. “I will say though, Swan, I pity Pan for when he finally finds himself on the wrong side of your wrath. You’ve turned all of Neverland against him, even his own.”

“I think he did that himself when he tried to kill them.”

Killian shakes his head, grabbing a dampened cloth with his hook and scrubbing at the blood and sand dried to his hand. “The fact that they’d defy Pan and choose their fallen friends… the fact that half of them didn’t run for the treeline to beg him to take them back… You’ve changed something, love. You’ve done more for the creatures of this island in a week than any of us have managed in centuries.”

“I couldn’t just do nothing,” she mutters, crossing her arms and shrugging awkwardly. 

Killian gives a short, humourless laugh, avoiding her gaze, scrubbing harder as the cloth continues to slip from his hook. “Believe me, Swan, it’s very easy to do nothing.”

Emma takes a step into the room. “You didn’t do nothing.” 

“I didn’t do nearly as much as I could have.” 

“Stop it,” she scolds, crossing the space between them and taking the rag from him. He startles as she grabs his wrist, running the cloth over the blood caked into his palm. She knows her hair and clothes probably look just as bad - everyone out on the deck today carrying the stain of Pan’s cruelty on their skin. “You did what you could while staying alive. You can’t protect people if you’re dead. You can’t protect your crew, and you can’t protect the kids Pan sends your way if you’re dead.” He doesn’t have an answer to that. Good. 

They stand in silence as she finishes her task. When she can’t pretend to be cleaning the now non-existent blood anymore - the most stubborn bit finally wiped clean - when she can’t avoid saying what she came to say anymore, she sighs. “Thank you.” 

“For what?” 

“I know you could have just as easily made me leave them there on the beach - that it probably would have been the safer choice.” 

She rests the cloth in his open hand, focusing on it instead of him. She’s not great at this ‘thank you’ thing, at people understanding her the way he had on the shore today. 

“I don’t think anyone could make you do anything easily, Swan,” he teases and she shrugs, matching his hesitant smirk. “And it may have been the safe thing to do, but it wouldn’t have been the right thing.” His fingers curl around hers, keeping her there and drawing her attention back to him. “I should thank you as well.” 

“For what?” she echoes, frowning. She’s pretty sure she’s done nothing but cause problems for him since she got here. 

“For reminding me that I can still choose to do the right thing. I’d started to believe I’d forgotten how.” 

Her frown deepens. “Killian, you’ve done the right thing since -'' always, she wants to say, since she met him and made him bring her back here. He’s done right by her and her son and everyone else here from the beginning. 

“Since you chained me to that bloody sick bed,” he finishes, smirking again even as he shakes his head in disbelief, thumb is stroking across her knuckles - she doesn’t think he means to be doing it. “I don’t seem to have the option where you’re concerned. It’s exhausting, really.” Emma does her best not to laugh, not when he takes a step closer, fingers curling more purposefully around hers, the metal of his ring cool against her skin as he drops the cloth, eyes focused on hers like he’s trying to find an answer in them.  Voice soft, the teasing gone now he breathes, “you’re a bloody marvel, Swan,” and he’s so damn close now that she can feel his words warm against her cheek, can smell the salt and leather and rum that clings to his skin even after a day like today. 

He doesn’t move and she can’t decide if she wants him to, if the pounding of her heart stems from a desire to have him close the distance between them or from fear of what it would mean if he did. He’s watching her like he’s trying to decide the same and the words come out before she can stop them.

“Are you going to kiss me again?” 

His brow quirks up in amusement, before it shifts into that smug arch that’s become so familiar. “I believe you’re the one who’s initiated all of our previous dalliances, love,” he points out and she can feel her face going hot because he’s not wrong - she’s been throwing herself at him every chance she gets since that first kiss that was meant to distract him. “But aye,” he continues before the embarrassment gives her time to second guess herself. His hand lifts to her cheek, thumb tracing over her lip. “If you’ve no objections…” 

She should have some objections - like that making out with the really hot, annoyingly heroic pirate that makes her feel all kinds of confusing things she doesn’t want to be feeling is a really bad idea. But her head shakes without her permission and then he’s leaning in, carefully and agonizingly slowly until his lips only barely brush hers, the taste and heat of his mouth leaving her aching for the promise of more. She’d accuse him of teasing, only it doesn’t feel like a tease, more like a question as his lips catch hers gently, chaste and slow before pulling away and hesitating a moment longer. 

Emma’s fingers reach to tangle in his hair as she resists the urge to pull him to her like she has in the past. He lets out a small sigh at her touch and she can almost taste it before his mouth is on hers again, kiss slow and deep, swallowing the small sound she lets out when his brace slides low across her back to draw her closer. He kisses her like they’ve never done this before, every brush of his lips and stroke of his tongue and exploration and she’ll never get over how strongly her body reacts to him and the all-consuming way his mouth claims hers. 

She breathes his name and he lets out a low growl, hand tightening in her hair, pulling her closer, teeth dragging over her lip like he can catch the sound before soothing it with his tongue. He walks them back across the room to the door, pushing it shut, cradling her head against the impact as he presses her into the wood, mouth not leaving hers. She’s taken aback for a moment by the gentleness of his touch, but then his lips leave hers to trail the length of her neck and the shuddering heat that burns her everywhere his tongue meets her skin has her arching into him, need pooling low in her stomach. 

Emma lets out a small whimper when he follows the line of her shirt to the swell of her breasts and Killian groans, pulling away, forehead resting against hers as they both pant into the space between them. “I don’t have the energy to do everything I want to do to you tonight,” he sighs.

“How about just some of it?” she asks and he laughs, hand tracing the same path his mouth had, stopping at the center of her chest, over her heart, and sounding as frustrated as she feels - but also just as exhausted. Today had been a trying day, even by Neverland standards, and they’re both weary and still covered in blood and dirt and sweat from the exertion. 

“I know,” she agrees with a sigh, even if she doesn’t like it. Her hands slide from where they’d woven themselves into his hair to settle on his chest, his skin warm and soft against the coarse hair, heart beating hard under her palm. “Can I…” He waits, gaze focused on her even as she looks at the floor. She hates feeling vulnerable, but with everything that’s happened, with what Wendy told her about the shadows, and the now growing threat of an angry, vindictive Pan she just… “Can I stay?” 

They hadn’t talked about it in the morning, about Emma coming to his room the night before, the ship so loud with the cries of those broken children thrust into adulthood too young, into piracy against their will. She’d been gone before he woke, chasing phantoms across the deck and jumping off ships and they’d pretended as though it had never happened. And she’d been grateful for that. It made her feel brave enough to ask now, to admit that she needed this.

He seems surprised by her question before an expression of gentle understanding softens his features. “Aye, love,” he nods, reaching to brush her probably wild and matted hair from her eyes. “I’d like that.” The hitch of her heart calms when she realizes that maybe he also doesn’t want to be alone tonight, that maybe he needs the comfort and safety of another person after all the tragedy they’ve seen these last few days. 

He kisses her again, soft and gentle and easing some of the dread that’s made a home in her chest since she left Storybrooke. She thinks he meant it to be chaste, but neither of them seem in any hurry to give up the press of his mouth against hers, the reassuring comfort of his heartbeat, beneath her palm, or the warmth of his calloused fingers against her cheek, the metal of his hook, cool and grounding on her hip. 

She lets it go on longer than she should for a kiss like this, one that isn’t building to anything else, that isn’t meant to excite or seduce but just to feel and savour something good for once, something easy. It’s the way she’d kissed him by the water on Solstice. It had been dangerous then and it was dangerous now. 

Still, Killian is the one to pull away first, Emma chasing his lips without meaning to before he clears his throat, cheeks flushed and an expression she can’t place in his eyes as they meet hers, like the one he’d worn in the brig - perhaps I would - and suddenly it’s all so much more than it was supposed to be, than it can or should be. He must sense it too because he takes a step back, fog still not fully cleared from his gaze as he straightens. 

“I should go ensure the crew are prepared for the night - that there’s a watch planned.” She peels herself off the door so that he can get by. “There’s hot water in the pitcher if you want to wash the day off,” he adds, waiting for her nod, returning it, and then darting out of the room. 

Emma sags back against the closed door. What the hell are you doing? She can’t be doing… this. Whatever this is. Not here, certainly not now when she should be focused on her mission, on her son, not when the last time she came close to this was… Her fingers brush over the boot laces tied around her wrist. Look how well that had ended. Look how well it always ends. 

By the time Killian returns she’s washed her hair and the worst of the grime from her skin before slipping under the covers in a stolen, clean shirt. She feigns sleep when she hears him move almost silently around the room, there’s the splash of water and the rustle of clothing as she forces her eyes to remain shut. It’s not until she knows he’s standing by the bed, hesitating, like he’s not sure he should still join her now that she’s ‘asleep’ - as though she didn’t ask him if she could spend another night in his bed- that she breaks her pretense. 

“Just get in, Killian.” There’s a pause, a stillness in the air before she feels the sheets move and the bed sag beside her as he slides in, settling on his side next to her but leaving enough room that there’s no risk of them touching. And it’s a palpable distance. “Do you… do you want to sleep alone?” she asks quietly, anxious now that this isn’t one of his frustrating gentleman streaks but that he’s changed his mind, that she’s imposing, asking too much of him. 

“No,” his voice is just as low as hers and she holds back a small sigh of relief. 

“Please don’t make me ask…” Emma feels him calm beside her, the awkward tension leaving him as he inches closer. His fingers ghost over her shoulder for a moment before he slides his arm around her waist and pulls her back against him.

“I’m here, Swan. You don’t have to ask.” The promise is breathed into her hair, lips pressing to the crown of her head as they had the night before and Emma shuts her eyes against the tears that burn at the edges of them. “You’re safe,” he tells her again, like he knows she needs to hear it, and she nods. She knows. Even as the cries of the lost boys drift into the room from above deck and the jungle beyond, she knows. 

She turns in his arms, tucking her hands beneath her cheek so she can see him, follow the outline of his jaw and neck in the moonlight that steals through the drawn curtains. Even his silhouette is beautiful, the light playing over the edges of his skin, turning it almost iridescent, and making her want to reach out and trace the curve of his bare shoulder and arm where the shadows suggest shapes in the dark. 

“You are too, you know.” Killian might be one of the bravest people she’s ever met, but she knows that Pan terrifies him. And today he pissed him off - because she asked him to. “If Pan wants any of you he’s gonna have to go through me first.” Bold words as they hide beneath the covers like children hoping they won’t be found.

She doesn’t have to see his eyebrow tick up to know that it is. “Aye?”

“I’m scarier than I look.” He bites down on a laugh or a teasing comment. Her fingers found their way to his elbow at some point - she hadn’t meant to. They follow the line of his bicep, his shoulder. “I can keep you all safe.” Her voice nearly breaks on the last word - because she has to. Henry, Killian, Wendy, Will, she needs all of them to survive this. She’s lost everyone she’s cared about. She won’t add them to the list.

His finger is gentle beneath her chin as hers dance across his collarbone and she lifts her gaze to the pale blue that shines even in the dim light. “We’ll keep each other safe then,” he offers like a compromise and she nods. She can do that. 

She doesn’t have to ask if he’s going to kiss her this time, and she doesn’t care enough to be conflicted by the fact that she wants him to - not here in the dark where her doubts can’t find her. His hand slides over her cheek, fingers tracing the shell of her ear to curl around the nape of her neck, like he’s mapping his way to her by touch. When he draws her in she goes willingly, mouth meeting his like muscle memory, the heat and feel and taste of him a familiar temptation that she could find blind.

He hums low in the back of his throat when her lips part beneath his in invitation, taking the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tongue hot and slow against hers, using his hooked arm to pull her close, legs tangling beneath the sheets. She’s on goddamn fire as he continues to touch her with nothing but his hand in her hair, lips not straying from hers, and it’s not fucking fair because nobody should be able to push all of her buttons and make her want them so badly without even trying. And he’s not trying. This is just… how he is with her, how they are together and it’s maddening and intoxicating and she wonders if it’s always like this when you care. 

Fuck. The thought stops her. Fuck, she cares. She cares if he lives or dies - if something were to happen to him… If it happened because of her, she doesn’t -

“Are you alright, love?” The words are spoken against her lips. No, she’s absolutely not. But she’s not dealing with that right now. She doesn’t want to deal with how or why or when she ended up caring so fucking much, what it could do to her, like it’s done so many times before. She shakes her head, ignoring his question, both her arms wrapping around his neck to pull him back to her, mouth slanting over his in a silent sort of plea. He returns it, though his kiss is gentler than hers, softer and less urgent than it had been a moment ago and her heart and mind grow a bit less frantic. 

He changes the pace, slowing her, calming her, Emma sinking into the purposeful slide of his mouth and tongue and the tug of his fingers in her hair. He pulls away, their breath shallow and he finds her eyes in the dark again. The shadows don’t let her read his expression, but he must see something in hers because his hand slips from her hair, following the strands down her back to her waist where it flattens against her hip, slipping beneath the fabric of her stolen shirt. He moves so slowly, like he expects her to stop him, or he’s just giving her the chance to, but the heat of his palm trailing up her side is the most agonizing kind of torment and she bites hard on her lip to keep from begging as he inches across her skin.

When his hand finds her breast she lets him swallow the gasp that escapes her and the small curse she lets out when his thumb rolls over her nipple. She breathes his name when he continues to touch her, her nails digging into the back of his shoulders when he moves to nip and lick at the pulse point of her neck. He releases her only long enough to work the few buttons of her shirt open and then his mouth is on her breast and the room fills with her poorly silenced gasps and pleas as he teases her with teeth and tongue. 

She’s grateful when he kisses her again, just as his fingers trail over her stomach and dip between her legs, muffling the sound that would have alerted anyone still awake to exactly what was taking place in the dark of the cabin. His touch is fucking perfect, like he’d watched her in that fairy field where he talked her over the edge because ever stroke and curl and thrust is exactly what she likes, exactly what she needs and she knows it won’t take long. 

Killian falters when she reaches for him, fingers sliding into the soft, slippery fabric of his pants and finding him hard and straining in her hand. He bites out her name like a curse when she strokes him and he tries and fails to regain his composure. When her mouth claims his he groans into the kiss, his fingers matching the pace she sets with her hand on him and the roll of her hips. His thumb finds her clit and she bites his lip at the meticulousness of his touch, determined and fervid and she thinks he must be close too if he’s trying to send her over the edge so urgently.

Her free hand is vice-like in his hair, holding him to her as they whisper hushed gasps and curses into each other’s mouths and Emma has to turn her head into his shoulder, teeth sinking into his skin as she feels her climax building, hips rocking frantically as he brings her higher and higher. Her grip on his cock tightens, her strokes faster as she nears that edge. His words fall out in a choked mix of encouragement and pleasure, beard rough against her skin, breath hot on her neck, until she feels him tense against her. He groans a muffled ‘fuck, please, Swan,’ against her throat, fingers curling and urging and then she’s coming, back arching and her cry cut off by his mouth on hers before she feels him spill himself in her hand. 

“Fuck,” Killian curses, low and breathless in the stillness of the Neverland night. She doesn’t have any words, heart still racing and eyes still shut tight, her body feeling like it’s going to float away despite the heaviness in her limbs. She tugs his mouth back to hers with the grip she still has on his hair and the groan he lets out almost makes her feel bad, exhaustion and desperation and desire wrapped into one, low sound. 

He kisses her again, lips moving to her neck, her shoulder, her breast, and she’s about to warn him not to start something he can’t finish as the low hum of warmth settles over her skin, but then his fingers tug the edges of her shirt closed gently, pressing one last kiss to her mouth before standing and retrieving a cloth.

“Was that one of the things you had in mind?” she teases when she hands it back to him and he discards it. Her voice is still breathless and strained as he climbs back into the bed, sliding beneath the covers and taking her hand in his. She watches as he raises it to his lips, placing a kiss to the center of her palm and then weaving his fingers through hers. She tries not to let her heart grow frantic with the mix of fear and longing that surges when he lets their entwined hands rest in the bare space between them. 

“That was… wholly unexpected,” he rasps, thick with sleep and sex. She thinks his eyes are drifting shut, the strain of the day finally taking him even as his thumb strokes carefully over the back of hers, slower and slower as he’s pulled under. 

She watches him for a moment longer, making out the line of his brow and cheek in the dark, the steady rise and fall of his chest, more relaxed than she’s ever seen him. And as she pulls his hand to her mouth, lips settling against the cool metal of his rings, she knows exactly what he means. 

***

Emma wakes to a hand pressed firmly over her mouth, her eyes darting open in panic, muscles tensed, braced for a fight. But where she expects an intruder she finds only Killian, face close to hers, finger held to his lips, and she’d fucking deck him for scaring the shit out of her like this if it weren’t for the seriousness of his expression, the fear he just barely hides beneath the command. She knows that fear can only mean one thing, even before he whispers it into the darkness, eyes darting towards the ceiling, to the deck above them.

Pan.

******

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[lackadaisy-headcanon-supply-unit]

I'm so glad I found your account! You guys are very talented <33

I know canonically Mortdecai isn't, uh, amazing with kids but what if a Marigold members daughter started hanging around the building (like Ivy did when she was younger) and she reminded Mortdecai of one of his sisters (Esthers moodiness or Roses cheeriness)? I'd love some headcanons about the scenario^^

I wasn't going to write this until later but I absolutely had to jump ahead of schedule and write this because it nagged at my mind almost all week. You even started an AU for the other mods and I, anon. This little idea is so tasty and adfghfgferhrj

You are the biggest brain and I hope you don't mind that me and Iphiko (and maybe even Rory!) had a little taste of this drink ourselves first. Different bottle, don't worry, we haven't touched any of what's in your hand right now

Also thank you so much for your kind words! I'm really glad you guys are enjoying these things (as if the inbox flooding wasn't proof enough), it makes us Lackadaisy Moonshiners so happy and gives me an excuse to keep writing. You're all awesome!

At first, it almost stings. He still remembers Ivy, after all; her wandering around following Viktor or whoever caught her eye whenever she could. It was cute. Adorable, even.

But Mordecai seems to be the target of this little beast's attention. And no amount of waving her off, gently pushing her away with his foot or annoyed threats will get her to pick someone else.

The Savoys are enamored with the little bugger. Serafine started calling her "Bébé Couteau" (Baby Knife) after being allowed to teach her some knife tricks (why Asa let them put a knife in the hands of a kitten, Mordecai will never know) and Nico picked up the habit of startling the little girl by picking her up and spinning with her...Which slowly evolved into throwing her across the bloody bar into Serafine's arms after an accident that resulted in the kitten getting yeeted by a distracted Nico (apparently she loved it (and to Serafine's credit, she ran like Hell to catch her); so it's not exactly safe but it's okay??)

Several speakeasy attendees mistake her to be Mordecai's kitten since she's always hanging around him (and especially so if she's a Tuxedo cat). It probably doesn't help that he loudly objects to the twins throwing the kitten back and forth like a football and has even ripped her out of their arms once or twice

They also (correctly) assume that he calls the shots when it comes to her. If she's making trouble or is heading somewhere that she shouldn't be, someone has to work up the courage to tell that ferocious shadow of Asa's. It's him, the queen cat that looks like she's constantly considering stabbing you or the heartthrob at the bar vicious son of a bitch who always looks like he knows that he's better than you

It's an unspoken rule between the three that Mordecai's word is law when it comes to the kitten. He hates this and is sure that they just use this as another excuse to tease him.

Asa scares the Hell out of the poor little thing. He tried greeting her once and she burst into tears and ran to Mordecai so he could protect her. The twins thought this was hysterical: the kitten adores the ground Mordecai walks on, laughs at Serafine's threats and thinks Nico throwing her at a soft target as hard as he can is the bee's knees; but Asa Sweet-the big fat cat with the softest features out of all of them-scares the living daylights out of her.

Mordecai thinks the kitten has a good judge of character sometimes. If it wasn't for her love of the chaotic duo he'd say that out loud

They brought the kitten along to a "meeting" once when she were sick with a fever. She cried when Mordecai left the car and Serafine refused to leave until she was comforted or at least sleeping, so (after some arguing and sweet-talking) Mordecai went back for her. When he didn't leave the vehicle for a few minutes, the Savoys went on without him.

They came back to find him reading a book, the kitten snuggled up against his side and sound asleep tucked under his coat and arm. The soft look in Morde's eye told Nico that maybe this wasn't the time to be teasing him.

This didn't stop Serafine. Mordecai hasn't heard the end of that event. (Asa also gave him some Hell for leaving the twins to do the dirty work, but Serafine and Nico shut him down pretty quickly-they found whatever crate he wanted, no witnesses are around to tell the tale, the job was done just fine and the kitten needed him more than they did. Shut up, Mr. Sweet.)

Whoever's daughter the kitten is, they'd better learn to deal with Mordecai becoming her guardian angel of death. If she doesn't have a parent and just wandered in somehow, she's gonna end up with something better: an aunt that'll teach her to kill and how to stay strong, an uncle that'll toss her around like a hot potato and teach her to be fearless and another uncle that'll pretend to not care for her until someone looks at her the wrong way.

Mordecai, Serafine and Nico. Probably the worst-fitting cats to be any kind of parental figures, yet ones that will guard a mutually-adopted kitten until their final breaths-whether they'll admit to it or not.

[nakasumi-sims]

Neal Ward for @jonquilyst Total Drama Sims 2

Pronouns: He/Him

Orientation: Pansexual

Aspiration: Master Actor

Traits: Loner and Active

Hometown: Del Sol Valley

Likes: Acting, Media Production, Painting, Junk Food, His Brother, Pranks, Movies

Dislikes: Pipe Organ, Authority Figures

Skills: Acting - 3/ Comedy - 2 /Dancing - 1 / Fitness - 3/ Logic - 2/ Media Production - 3 /Mischief - 2 / Painting - 5 /Skiiing - 3 /Snowboarding - 3 /Vampire Lore - 2

Neal is the son of superstars Judith Ward and Merrick Koizumi. Him and his twin brother, Gabriel, are the product of a Hollywood marriage only meant to mutually boost their parents' careers, and they just happened on accident. Judith wanted some new young arm candy as a fame boost and Merrick wanted someone to leech fame off of to accelerate his career.

While accomplishing their own goals, the twin boys were an afterthought. Neal and Gabriel were mostly left to their own devices. They were mostly raised by a revolving door of nannies, but every so often Merrick would make time for them and visit since Judith wouldn't even change their diapers.

"'Sup I'm Neal Ward. You've probably heard of renown actress Judith Ward, yea? That's good ol mommy dearest. Is she as bad as everyone says? For the most part, yea. As for my dad, you'd know him as the famous model, actor, and singer Merrick Koizumi. And no, just in case you're afraid, I didn't inherit the vampire genes. Buuuuut I might still bite ya if you ask."

"Honestly, I'd rather be left alone with Gabriel. We're twins if you couldn't tell. Mom and dad weren't really expecting us, but as mom says, 'oh good two at the same time, they can entertain each other and I don't have to do anything!' Mommy dearest only really made time for us if we needed to make her look good. I was happy to get attention after dad noticed I was into art so it was fun when he visited. He always encouraged me to pursue my art. Yet he also had this like ridiculous air of jealousy about it? I dunno. I didn't really give a crap. He's funner to be around than mom, but he's more of a weird friend than a dad. They're both too dramatic and self absorbed, but he cares more than her. We live in Del Sol with mom in her mansion while dad lives in his weird house over in Forgotten Hallow. I did run away from the mansion with Gabriel a few times to Forgotten Hallow to try and live with dad instead, but there's like no food or anywhere to sleep except for a couple of uncomfortable benches.

Most of my life, my brother and I have spent a lot of our time on sets or playing different sports together. We're both active, but the only team I'd want to be on is his. He's the one who wants to get into extreme sports and we always have a good time surfing and snowboarding together. He's better at it than me, but that's fine."

"My dream is to become an actor like my parents so I can be better than them at their own game. It's not completely out of spite though. I really do love acting. It's such a thrill to be on stage and performing. The feeling you get when shaking someone to their very core when you finish a scene is exhilarating and you just feel so powerful. However, being in the shadows of my parents sucks. I'm so done with anything I do being compared to them. It makes it really irritating to interact with anyone new cause it's always about them. Tch, at least I got Gabriel and no one is gonna be able to separate us."

One day, while Neal was wandering around the studio lots, he came across the abandoned lot that was planned to be the set for TDS2! Stunned, he ran back to Gabriel to tell him about his find and then they ran back to the set Judith was shooting her latest movie. They both told her of the find in excited unison to have the news revealed to them by her agent that Judith was sending Neal to be on the show! She said, quote, "Those two needed some separation they're ridiculously close and only keep to themselves. I just wanted them to get away from each other for awhile...and me. I got more to film overseas so I'm letting that show babysit Neal while Gabriel goes to Mt. Komorebi to train with some sports reality show. They get a place to sleep and food so what else do they need? It also spreads the Ward name so he better win or at least not get kicked off until I'm done shooting. I'm so glad I don't have to drag them around with me for awhile. Toodles, boys! Have fun!"

They were both devastated at the news of being separated for the time being. How could they function without each other after doing everything together for their entire short lives?! Neal watched as the private jet whisked Gabriel away with tears. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad? This could be his opportunity to break free from his parents' shadows and into his own spotlight. Forget the names Judith Ward and Merrick Koizumi! Now is Neal Ward's time to shine and rise to fame!

Other info:

Neal got his necklace from Merrick. It's made from blood. It was given to him on his 5th birthday in hopes that eventually he would be a vampire like his father, which never happened. Gabriel also had a matching one, but lost it in the ocean while surfing.

Neal's never really thought about his sexuality and preferences before, but would say he's pansexual like his dad. Anything's a possibility if he's willing to open up to someone that's not his brother.

Neal has some editing skills and has a youtube channel where he vlogs with his brother. Most people like it to get insight on behind the scenes on film and tv sets, but there's also quite a few who follow just to get glimpses or pester him with questions about Judith or Merrick. It does throw him off especially since Merrick has his own youtube channel they could go to.

He does have a bit of his parents' power hungry tendencies even if he doesn't think so.

Their parents split the naming responsibilities so Neal was named by Judith and Gabriel was named by Merrick

He is fully human and didn't inherit any vampire traits. Same with Gabriel, but this ain't about him lmao

Besides nannies, a lot of the time, he got he meals from the cast and crew tables from sets he was on.

He doesn't think too highly of authority

Always down to pull pranks. He used to do a lot of them with Gabriel (especially the ol twin switcharoo but that stopped once Neal changed his hair)

[epickiya722]

Something I realized is that gege akutami doesn't create many punishments for ''bad'' characters other than death. I think an interesting punishment for the geto character was to create a binding vow in which he was obliged to save humans and never harm them I would have liked to have seen him save those he hates and abhors most.

You know what, I actually would have liked to see that with Geto, just see how that goes.

I think when it comes to the villains of JJK, I don't think Akutami had the intention to write them as capable of redemption, want to use redemption as a way to end their character arcs and even so... death is their redemption.

I'll use Toji for an example. His second death felt like a redemption, but not in a way the audience would go "oh, he's been a good guy after all" or something along those lines. It was more like a closing to his story with Megumi, but also kind of an unfair one. He was redeemed as in a "he wasn't a good father, not in the slightest, but he still cared for his son".

I think with Toji, not to excuse his actions, was he knew that he wasn't capable of being that father Megumi needed, let alone the person Megumi needed without his wife around. Remember, she was like his moral compass. Without her, Toji was unstable. But it wasn't like he was just like that. The Zenin clan mistreated him since he had been a child.

However, Toji knew that Megumi would be well taken care of because of the possibility of him having the Ten Shadows Technique, which he does have. Yet, it would have sucked if he didn't.

Toji went on in his life just wandering and doing as he pleases because he didn't have Mamaguro. It wasn't until his first death that I think it really hit for him just how wrong he did Megumi with selling him to the Zenin. It's why he tells Satoru about Megumi. I doubt Toji wanted him to pity him, but to give Megumi to live a life he couldn't give him. Especially, if what Megumi didn't have that technique.

It was as if Toji was self-aware, but not so self-aware because he does forget who Megumi is.

With his second death, once he realized who Megumi was, it was like relief for him and at the same time, he didn't want to kill his son.

Megumi told him his last time and Toji went out like "That's my boy".

So again, Toji wasn't like completely redeemed for his actions, but his relationship with Megumi. Of course, it still wasn't the best, but compared to other fiction dads, Toji wasn't that bad.

Humanize! That's the word, I'm looking for. Not redeem but humanize!

Now, compare him with someone like Sukuna.

When it comes to Sukuna, Akutami makes it clear that he is not a good guy. Human, but not s good guy. Take the last few chapters.

Sukuna wasn't shown in a different light. He was just given a little more depth. He always been a "do what I want" kind of guy. Even when Sukuna takes note of him being an unwanted child, he doesn't go " my parents hated me, so now I'm terrible". No, he brushes it off like "Anyways so".

If he does something evil, he won't make excuses about it. He laughs about it. He's entertained by others. He's human like the others because the guy is still aware of feelings. He knows what love is, he just doesn't give a damn about it. He makes terrible decisions because he can.

For him, a death would make sense to end his story. I say this because if Sukuna doesn't die, he's just going to keep going. If anything, he wouldn't care about dying because he just has this endless routine of doing whatever to please himself. Remember, he tells Yuji that even if he dies, there's other fingers out there. And that would repeat the cycle of Sukuna's destruction.

Death for Sukuna wouldn't be, like, the easy way out. It's more of a reasonable decision. Think about it for someone like Sukuna. Trapping him wouldn't work because he will find a way out. He wouldn't want to stay trapped because he needs something to do. It's part of the reason why he hates Yuji so much when he was trapped. He couldn't do what he wanted. Once he is free, then he can. Sukuna doesn't like boredom.

[aphroditestempleimagines]

The Obsidianite Jewel

A fem!reader x Chevalier Michel Fanfiction

Chapter 16 -> Chapters Masterlist

Words: 2268

Warnings: language

Summary: It all started when your fiancé, Prince Gilbert, brought you to the palace of Rhodolite. He hoped he would find the secrets of the princes. Instead, he lost your heart to the brutal beast. However, Gilbert is not going to let your heart wander away easily

"Hey sis", Jonathan gave you a sad smile, "Want me to bring you anything?"

You shook your head, never taking your eyes away from the orange hues that painted the horizon. "No thank you, I'm alright", you said softly.

Jonathan looked at your bare feet, toes scraping the wet sand as the waves kissed them. The hem of your dress, already wet by the ocean, was stuck on your calves as you dangled your legs under the rock on which you sat. Your eyes looked empty; your face remained expressionless when you did not have to face him. He had never seen you look this sad. Even when your heart ached in the past you always used to put on a show for the people you loved; now it was not enough to mask your pain.

"You'll catch a cold", he said, "Please come inside"

"I won't", you assured him, "I'll go back in in a bit. I just want to see the sunset"

Jonathan bit his lip. He wanted to cry. Eventually, he nodded and left you on the secluded beach, climbing back up the stairs to the castle. He rubbed his eyes. Before he knew it, he was standing outside the new King's office. He heard murmurs; then steps. He ran to hide in the shadows of the nearest column. The door opened.

"I appreciate it, Your Majesty", Gilbert stood proud at the height of an Emperor. He had announced his new title as soon as he and y/n returned to Istidor.

The moment Gilbert was gone, Emerich ran back to the office. He stood in front of the closed door until he gathered enough courage to knock.

"Come in", his father's rough voice came from inside.

It was a wonder how Jonathan kept himself from trembling as he stepped inside. King Edward sat on a large chair, his arms resting on the sides. His face was scared from battle, his hands were calloused from training. His longsword leaned against his desk, taller than half of Jonathan's height already. He was proof that some people were born to rule.

"Jonathan", he said as if addressing a soldier rather than a son, "What is the matter?"

His eyes were still glued on his paperwork as Jonathan approached his desk.

"It's y/n", he said, "I don't think she's alright".

The King raised his gaze along with one of his thick eyebrows.

"She doesn't love Gilbert", Jonathan continued.

King Edward let out a heavy sigh. "Love is a luxury for people like us. he said, "Marriage is built on things much sturdier than love. Things that come with time"

"But why can't she have both?", Jonathan took a step forward, "You're King now so our fates are finally in your hands. Chevalier-"

"You said yourself that that man's goal is to unite the continent under his name", the King intervened, "What he wants is our army and our gold. As a King, I cannot trust a sliver of my Kingdom to a man like him and as a father, I surely cannot concede that my daughter spends her days with someone who sees her as his key to power".

Jonathan covered his face with his hand. Those were his thoughts indeed. He had discussed the matter with his father when y/n first told him about her feelings for Chevalier. He never expected this escalation. But after speaking with Chevalier in person he had seen for himself that there was a heart behind those cruel eyes, and that heart bled from love. "I'm not so sure that is the case", he said quietly.

"I cannot base this decision on your instinct alone. I need facts. Gilbert loves her and I know he aims to build a new name for the Obsidianite Empire, one that is not a synonym of war. But all I've heard about Chevalier is his gruesome feats in combat and the countless assassins after him"

"Y/n is not stupid. She'd know if-"

"You're very smart yourself, Jonathan", the King interrupted him once more, "Yet you should know more than anyone how blinding love can be".

Jonathan lowered his gaze. His father was right. "I understand I'm not the best person to be speaking about judge of character", he said softly, "Still, wouldn't it be worth it to give it a chance? Don't you wish that y/n has what you and Mom did?"

King Edward leaned back on his chair. He brought his hand to his lips, taking a moment to consider his son's words. "Alright", he finally said, "You are right. Ruling is a hard and lonely job. If y/n has someone she loves by her side it will be a hell of a lot more bearable". He leaned closer. "Go find him. Convince him to speak to me. But don't tell him anything about my concernsof him", the King continued, "That said, Jonathan, I don't want you causing commotion either".

Jonathan frowned. "Of course I won-"

"I mean it", King Edgard narrowed his eyes, "Don't tempt any rumours and especially don't let your brother get too involved. We don't want another scandal"

Jonathan bowed his head. He nodded so that his father knew that he understood. "Yes father", he said, "Thank you"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Sneak attack!", Clavis drew everyone's attention to him as he charged in the dining hall, sword in hand, heading straight towards his older brother. Everyone's attention but Chevalier's it seems, who continued to casually flip the pages of his book even as Clavis' sword stopped mere inches from his head.

"Clavis, are you insane?", Emma shrieked but Clavis ignored her.

"That could have killed you, you know", the jester prince smiled nervously.

Chevalier breathed a heavy sigh. "I don't have time for your adolescent nonsense", he flipped another page in his book.

"Clavis, put that thing away!", Leon got off his seat.

"You always have time for my adolescent nonsense when something is not bothering you", Clavis's gaze did not waver.

Chevalier finally tore his eyes away from his book to meet his brother's. He always pushed even when -no, especially when- Chevalier did not want him to.

"Rejoice! It's your birthday! And I know how to cheer you up", Clavis finally returned his sword to his scabbard, "I have a surprise for you!"

"I've heard enough", Chevalier pushed his chair back and headed towards the library, where he had resulted to spend his nights.

"You'll regret it if you don't come, I'm afraid"

"Clavis, is this another pitfall?", Yves's tired voice was heard from the other side.

"Gods no!", Clavis cheered, "Those are reserved for you, little brother, cause you just look so adorable all scrambled up!"

"Fine", Chevalier cut him off, "But if you waste my time be ready to meet the consequences"

"Oooh scary...", Clavis shook his palms before throwing an arm around his brother's shoulder. Chevalier looked at him with repulsion. "Don't worry, I am the best at giving people gifts"

Clavis led Chevalier to a secluded part of the garden. Anyone else would be crawling with nervousness, but Chevalier merely rested his hand on the hilt of his sword and waited for Clavis to reveal his card. He did not know why he entertained his foolishness but deep down he hoped that he had indeed found a way to make his days more bearable. Because if anyone would have noticed the cracks that ran through his heart no matter the pretence he put on to perform his royal duties, it would be him.

"We have arrived", Clavis said proudly as they reached the gazebo.

Chevalier raised his eyebrow; there was nothing here.

No. There was only a shadow. He had almost missed it.

He turned his head and that's when he saw him; showered by the darkness of the early night, Jonathan leaned against one of the gazebo's pillars. Chevalier's heart fell. No matter how unlikely he still hoped his eyes would meet the beautiful shine of y/n's under the moonlight.

"If you've come to kill me perhaps you should divert your attention to the actual threat", he told him blankly.

"Impressive", Jonathan smiled, "People don't tend to notice me"

"Say that after I find you when you didn't want to be noticed", the Rholoditian King climbed the steps to meet the foreign prince. "What do you want?", he asked.

Chevalier frowned. Why and how would he help him? His mind raced through the worst case scenarios. His brows furrowed in anger, "Did he do something?"

"No", Jonathan pushed himself off the column, "She's fine- well-".

The prince took a deep breath. He kept his head low as he shook it. He walked past Chevalier. The King suddenly felt lighter. He turned around; Jonathan had swiped the book he had been reading. Chevalier observed as the prince read the title, along with the inscription behind the cover. There was no chance he would not recognize one of his sister's books. She had left it behind before hurriedly returning to Istidor, and it was all Chevalier had been reading ever since.

"It appears your brother was right", Jonathan spared Clavis a look before returning it to Chevalier, "You're not well either"

Chevalier gave his brother an angry look. "Hey don't look at me", Clavis shook his hands,"I said I was happy to see you in pain"

"Clavis."

The jester prince responded with a heavy sigh to Jonathan's scolding. His amused expression gave way to a serious one, publicly for the first time in years. "I hate myself for saying this", he hesitantly muttered, "but you look like father".

That sentence reminded Chevalier that he owned a heart, because at that moment it sunk to the depths of the Earth. "I'm not him", he said, the feeling of y/n tears drenching his shirt after that man had assaulted her suddenly feeling once again all too real.

"I'm not saying you are but...".

Clavis shoved his hands in his pockets. He let out a heavy sigh and turned his head away. "Don't make me say it, you piece of shit"

"You two are gonna make me cry", Jonathan scoffed, "You look like shit and he's worried about you. And I worry about my sister"

"She made her own choice", Chevalier said firmly, "I have no right to-"

"Do you love her?", Jonathan interrupted. He took a step closer as Chevalier frowned in confusion.

"What?"

"It's a simple question ", Jonathan continued, "Do. You. Love. Her?"

Chevalier stiffened. He hated this question. He hated how it called on the feeling he once despised and now held dearer than his own life. And most of all he hated that he had to admit it for the first time to someone other than y/n; but he knew Jonathan would not take anything other than "yes" or "no" for an answer.

"You know I do", his voice came strangled.

Jonathan nodded. "Then fight for her"

"That battle was lost the moment we were born"

"That's not true. There's", Jonathan appeared reluctant, "Two things stand in your way: the King's council and the King himself. My brother can help you appeal to the nobles. But you have to speak to my father yourself"

"And your brother will help?"

"Well", Jonathan rubbed the nape of his neck, "I guess you have to talk to him too. I can come with, but he won't speak to me"

Someone else would have asked why. But it did not matter to Chevalier. "So where is he?"

"I....don't know"

"He's in Benitoite", Clavis reminded them with his melodious voice that he was still there. "What?", he shook his shoulders, "I like him so I keep tabs"

"That's concerning"

"Agreed"

Both Chevalier and Jonathan said. But there was no other option.

"You two geniuses think there is no way for you to be together", Jonathan remarked, "But did you even try to find one?"

Chevalier did not respond. The foreign prince was right. Going against y/n's choices was what he wanted least, but the moment she was ripped away from him his will to follow up on that notion became much weaker. If Jonathan was right, that she felt the same as him, and he could present her a path they could walk down together then he had to do it.

"Clavis", he said, "Fetch Four-Eyes"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miles away, in the luscious land of Istidor, Gilbert threw an arm around his beloved's shoulders as he sat next to her on the couch. She did not push him away but neither did she cuddle closer to him as his arms enveloped her.

"What are you reading?", he rested his chin on her shoulders.

She flipped another page on the old and tattered book. "I just found it", she shook her shoulders, "It's poems. You wouldn't like it"

"I like poems", Gilbert reached for the book. He flipped to see the cover. "The romance of the rose", he read. Y/n pulled her legs to her chest. "Thus, if I ever knew the sickness of love, you will carry on with little sleep, throughout the night", Gilbert read, "And when you can’t bear your suffering lying awake in your bed, you will have to dress, put on your shoes, and adorn yourself. Then, whether it is raining or freezing, you will go in secret directly to the house of your sweetheart, who will be sound asleep, with hardly a thought of you "

"I think i'll just go to bed", y/n hurriedly put on her slippers and ran upstairs to the bedchambers.

"Oo...kay?", Gilbert was left dumbfounded, with only the book and the memory of her warmth as his company. Gilbert closed the book and checked the cover once again. He clenched his fist. He did not know the exact details, but he felt it in his bones that this was about Chevalier; it was always about Chevalier.

He threw the book away and covered his bare eye with his hand. He had won her hand back, but he could never reclaim her heart.

[ivorys-back]

Howdy! ;P

If you got that reference, good for you! I'm starting an Undertale comic based on my initial interpretation of the story and characters, and it also ties into my TWOF AU. Obviously, being part of an AU, it has some deviations from the canon, which I'll list here along with the characters:

First, there's Frisk and Chara. The reason I made both of them girls is because way back when I was first starting to roam the Internet and came across Undertale, I watched a dub of the Deeper Down comic, and in that comic, Frisk was addressed as female, and that's been my headcanon ever since. As for Chara, her name just sounded female to me. Also, Frisk is the reincarnation of Chara, which is why they share a Soul trait. Chara was about 15 when she died and Frisk is 12 when she travels through the Underground, so Chara is three inches taller than Frisk.

Flowey, in this AU, is actually a good guy (but still retains some of his sass and snarkiness from the original) and accompanies Frisk through her journey. Despite carrying some of Asriel's essence, he doesn't remember anything from Asriel's life or why he was born as a flower. This is because when Asriel collapsed and turned into dust, it was his chest portion that fell onto the flower that would become Flowey instead of his head, which is what carried his memories and would've resulted in the Flowey we all know and love. That being said, Flowey and Asriel are completely separate entities in this AU. Flowey was about 20 years old by the time Frisk fell.

(Also, just to save my sanity, I'll be using a different Omega Flowey design. Maybe the one from @scaletale-au, since it's pretty much the only pretty Omega Flowey out there, and also the design is just so badass, I couldn't resist.

Speaking of Asriel, here's the Dreemurr boy himself! When he died, he wandered the Underground in his adult form (the form he traveled to Chara's village with when their Souls were fused) as a shadow more than anything, which I'll post here in a minute. As he watched over his family and the monsters and saw Toriel taking care of the fallen humans, he became jealous and resentful, thinking that his mother was just replacing him as if she had forgotten him completely. This is how he became evil and corrupted, but all that is solved when Frisk reaches out to him and helps him remember his sister Chara, and the Hate is expelled from him, but he's still in his adult form (except his robe is purple instead of black and his eyes are green like normal and he has no face stripes).

I'm also thinking that when Asriel regains his physical form, he imprisons Asgore and claims the throne as King of the Underground, having his Hyper Goners hunt down Frisk and her friends while the other monsters hide in Home, the old city.

Here's the goat parents, Toriel and Asgore! When she first met Frisk, Toriel felt as if she was looking at an old friend (Deja-Vu), and when Asgore met Frisk, he commented on how much she reminded him of Chara (remember the "same hope in your eyes" line?). The morning after Frisk and Asgore stopped fighting, Toriel at last made it to Frisk, and she and Asgore made up and got back together.

Sans and Papyrus are relatively the same, only they have tongues and Sans wears sneakers instead of slippers, and Papyrus becomes a little more mature near the end (but not enough to spoil his excitable personality) as Asriel makes himself known to the Underground and asserts himself as a threat. Undyne also appoints Papyrus as a Royal Guard to help them rise up against Asriel. They're the sons of Gaster, and their mom Bree is alive and well (I have yet to make a design for her) and she lives in New Home.

Undyne doesn't change very much, except she has a tail and arm fins because yes. She also turns into her Undying form to protect Frisk from Asriel. As for backstory, her parents were named Jainil and Adella, and they ran the Royal Guard before they died and she took their place (she was born after the Human-Monster War, not before).

Alphys doesn't change much either, except I gave her pants. She assisted Gaster in conducting the Determination experiments, so the Amalgamates were not entirely her fault, although she was still the one who injected the flower with Determination and unintentionally brought Flowey to life.

Mettaton doesn't change at all, he's still the same, except he changes into his NEO form to fight Asriel. Of course, he was a ghost like Napstablook, but then he became friends with Alphys and she gave him a robot body, and that's how he became a TV star.

Finally, there's Gaster and Shadow!Asriel. Gaster doesn't change much, except that he appears a bit more often and guides Frisk and Flowey through the True Lab. As for Shadow!Asriel, it's just Asriel's corrupted ghost form and he haunts Frisk throughout her entire journey, and is the one to taunt her at the end of the Ruins instead of Flowey.

Here's the draft for the cover of The Final Fall!

Here's the synopsis: 

The Angel, the Fallen One, the One Who Has Seen the Surface...She will return...and the Underground will go empty.

This is the prophecy of Frisk, a human girl who many would call "too determined for her own good". After climbing Mount Ebott and falling into a world of monsters, Frisk makes several friends and even gains a talking flower as a little brother. Every time she falls asleep in this new world, she has odd dreams of people from the past; they're familiar, but not recognizable. They feel like family, but Frisk never knew them. But nothing can prepare her for the end of her journey...or the secret that will change her life forever. 

Anyway, that's all for now, and I hope you guys like it! Let me know what you think about it!

@demonangelgirl134 @loki104-uwu @hey-imma-fangirl

[antlerhorror]

i'm going to info dump about this and maybe nobody will see it! but this story means so MUCH to me.

imagine you're in the grishaverse okay, you have shadow summoner and sun summoner and holy shit those are teenage criminals that collapse an entire government system because they want money, isn't that incredible? the whole world is a mess, this is true, but what about ... the ocean? who's crossing the seas and making that, too, a laborious task for anyone minding their own business? we already know pirates are a vaugly established group in the universe; everyone insists on calling nikolai one when he presents as sturmond. so where exactly are these pirates?

here enters the ocean's disgrace, a renowned crew of cut throats and criminals who scour the seas for plunder, particularly with the ravkan navy because fuck those guys, am i right? led by imani oakfor, queen of the seas (penned by @riverstyxsarts), this band of pirates is both comic relief when you need it and a look into the lives of characters we don't usually see in the shadow and bone setting. they're different.

imani oakfor, transwoman pirate captain of the ocean's disgrace and renowned for her ferocity and her cruelty ... with enemies, that is.

bones, a disgraced fjerdan who insists he's too old for work and has an infinity for incredibly bad romantic novellas ‐ and he can't even read.

hawk-eye, son of ambassadors turned pirate and imani's lover. once thought to be dead for years, he now makes it a point to be a cocky bastard.

kenji yào, autistic map-maker and bathtime extraordinaire. he's a squaller who's afraid of birds - no, seriously, he is. petrified of them, really. currently dating hare and another member of the crew.

hare hamilton, the quickest thief on the seas. just a young boy from the wandering isles who made due to survive and got a mother figure out of it somehow; imani might as well be his mom for how well he treats him.

fleur meijer, a runaway from the navy after she realized just how bigoted those assholes are. certified woman lover with a heart of gold and courage like no other.

and so many more characters. you don't quite understand how honored i am to write a story with someone so so talented and make entire worlds out of something that im passionate about. these guys invade my brain more than the canon cast of shadow and bone do! i know this was a bit of a doozy but let me know if you want to know more. it's my special interest at this point <3

[mydarllinglover]

Alone || Till Death Do Us Part

Previous

The Twins mood had seemed to worsen increasingly, during Daryl and Evie's departure, the more people that greeted Natalia, seemed to irritate them more. Archie wasn't enjoying the attention, the heat, or the noise, either.

Judith and Henry had tried their best to help out, whilst Lydia shadowed them, quietly. Natalia left her alone, but made show to keep an eye on the people around her, making sure they wouldn't be giving the girl grief whilst she managed to adapt to the polar change of living for the past decade.

When she had been able to wander off, whilst Henry was distracted with fetching clean rags to help with the mess of lunch, Natalia "gently" pushed the teenager to go after her, who was reluctant to leave the woman with four small children.

Natalia had convinced the girls to focus on Luke's performance, who had also managed to talk Alden into. Enid, Connie and Kelly had offered to keep their eyes on the twins, as well as the two men, whilst Natalia went in search of a quiet room to put her son down for a nap.

"What's the point, Daddy's gonna miss it." Daisy furrowed her brows, her arms crossed as she frowned at the grass.

"Yeah, he's not gonna know how good we are, what's the point?" Bambi agreed, copying her sisters stance.

"Because, Daddy might not be here, but Mommy is, and I really, really wanna see how amazing my girls are, you said that Luke said you have the voices of angels"

"It's true, you have gifted children, well done." Luke stepped in, nodding at the woman, who gave him a gingerly smile before turning back to her twins.

"I'm so excited to see, and then when Daddy gets back, you can perform it for him, too, and Aunt Michonne and Aunt Carol, and your sister." Natalia told them, whilst she bounced Archie, who was crying his eyes out for a nap.

"But you're going too!" Daisy accused.

"No I'm not, but honey, Archie's been up all day, and he's only a baby, and babies need lots of sleep, but Aunt Rosita and Uncle Eugene are in the house, they won't mind watching him whilst I come back, it'll only be for two seconds. Besides, when I get back, it'll be time for the movie, and you don't want Arch crying all the way through it, it'll suck so bad."

"Cause he's a stupid baby, you should of never had him." Bambi scoffed, a surprising statement from the usually kind girl.

"Bambi Elizabeth, that's not a kind thing to say, not at all, you don't mean that." Natalia took her daughters small hand, gently.

"I'm sorry, Mommy, I'm just upset." She sniffed.

"And that's okay to feel upset, I wish Daddy was here, too, but Archie didn't do anything wrong, he's only little."

"I'm sorry, Archie." The girl gave her brother a kiss on the head.

"Just go, we got this." Enid assured her, when she stood up, instead of the crouched over position she was just in. "Evie used to have the same problem, me and Carl managed her." She smiled.

"Oh, Enid, how I love you so, but you underestimate a pair of Dixon Twins, but you already offered."

"It's fine, they can't be that bad." She laughed.

Natalia gave her a quick squeeze before darting towards the building Rosita and Eugene were held up in, keeping her head down in order not to be stopped by any more greetings, that's when she bumped into a blonde woman wearing an pretty green dress, sporting an straw hat.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry." She quickly apologised, looking at the woman, someone she didn't know, she must've been from either the kingdom or Hilltop.

Judith's group were the first people who had been accepted in, since the Jocelyn incident, and Oceanside had never liked newbies.

Something seemed oddly familiar about the woman, but Natalia had never seen her, in her entire life, odd.

"Not to worry, dear." The woman said, her voice was high pitched, it was obvious she was trying to fake the accent, cause she was failing miserably. "Hi, I'm Debra, from Alexandria."

"Oh, uhm, I'm Nat, or, Natalia, sorry, did you say you were from Alexandria?"

Natalia stared at her for a moment, trying to work out who this person is, until Archie begun another loud wave of cries.

"How old is ya boy?" The woman asked.

"Oh, he's only four months old, he's never been around this large of a crowd of people before, bit of a shock for him." She replied politely.

"And the father, he not around to help you?"

"Oh, no, uh, Daryl's gone with the others, yeah, he's helping them out."

"A man leaving his wife to fend for the kids to go out and do who knows what? Nasty, useless creatures, a waste of time and resources."

"Oh." Natalia paused. "Uhm, I've really got to get going, I promised the twins I'd get back for their performance, lovely to meet you, though." She hurried away, her smile instantly dropping. "What a freak." She muttered to Archie, who received a harsh wail in response. "Yeah, I know, being adorable and a lovely presence to be around, is exhausting, believe me, I do it on the daily."

Once Rosita assured Natalia that her and Eugene, who were both working on some electrical wire thingy, that they'd both keep their eye on the baby, Natalia went back towards the crowds, finding the auditorium, Jerry, Nabila and their three children, were sat beside Judith and the twins, who were sharing a seat.

"Mommy!" Daisy cheered, but was shushed by someone in the crowd.

Natalia frowned in the direction as she sat down with her girls.

"Where's Enid?" She asked.

"She's with Alden, we said we'd take them here." Jerry grinned at her, passing over a bowl of popcorn.

"And Henry?"

"Fixing the pipes." He replied.

"Lydia?"

"She's sat over there, she's waiting for Henry to come back." Judith answered.

"Oh, okay then."

"Hey, relax, everything and everyone's fine." Nabila told her.

"Yeah, yep, everyone's fine." She muttered, smiling at the woman before looking back at the screen, as her twins climbed into her lap, all three of them squeezing into the chair comfortably.

As soon as the light of the projector had turned on, and the film began, the room erupted into cheers and claps, Natalia couldn't get enough of the wonder and amazement on her kids faces, even her nieces.

"Cool, huh?" She whispered to the ten year old, wrapping an arm around her as they watched the cartoon.

Nabila and Jerry whispered to one another about the King's absence, until Daisy sat up from where her head layed against Natalia's chest, glaring at the pair until they quieted down, then proceeded to lay her head, again.

"Sorry, lil Dixon." Jerry whispered, a laugh hidden in his tone.

Natalia hugged her girls tight, her daughters and her niece, she hadn't even realised a giant smile was on her own face, not until Bambi had began tracing it, looking at her mom in her own awe.

It was the next day, when the bubble was burst for her, when the group had come back, Siddiq among them, who's head was bandaged up.

Dark eye bags settled underneath all of their eyes, and tears stained their cheeks, Evie, who had clung on to her fathers arm, Carol on the other side, lunged for her mother, hysterically crying into Natalia's shoulder, as her whole body shook.

"He's gone, Mommy, he's gone." She weeped. "Henry. He's-" She couldn't continue her sentence as sobs overcome her once again.

"Where did he go?" Bambi asked, gently, patting her sisters back.

"What happened?" Natalia asked Daryl, rubbing Evie's back as Ezekiel came to Carol's aid, allowing the man to swoop up his children, holding them tightly as he looked down, sniffing as he shook his head.

Siddiq had been the one to get on stage, to tell the four communities what had happened, at the funeral of their people, of Natalia's friends, Tara, Enid, and Henry, they were gone, as well as so many other loved ones. 

"I was there. I was taken with the others. And I saw... I was supposed to die with them. I was ready to. Then Alpha whispered in my ear, "Tell them." Something hit me and everything went black. And when I woke up, I was alone. What happened was evil. It was evil. And I think she left me alive to tell you that story. To scare you and to drive us all apart again. But I want to tell you a different story." Siddiq told the crowd of the mourning people, of the ones they had lost, the children of Hilltop, their leader and their doctor. The prince of the kingdom, the highway men, Adam, the baby's, new mother, and the Saviours that had joined them, became their friends and helped to build towards their future.

"See, before the end... Ozzy, Alek and DJ found us... They gave us an opening, and everyone fought back... They fought like hell... And what they did... Was more than brave... 'Cause they defended each other... And they sacrificed for each other... And some of them... they didn't even know each other, but they still fought like they did. Like they were family. 'Till the very end. And in the end, they-- their time was cut short, but ours keeps going. So we have to keep going. For them, and... for all of us... We need to honour them. We need to honour them, and we need to remember these friends, our family, died as hero's. That's the story that I want to tell you. That's the story that I want us to remember."

Evie muffled her cries into her mothers shoulder, she hadn't felt a loss like this since her first father had died, Henry was her best friend, Enid, she knew since she was little, since she had gotten to Alexandria, one of the few other kids that knew what it was like to lose a parent, and then they met Carl, and he became a part of that, but he was gone, too.

Natalia's heart broke, her daughter losing another person, only at the age of sixteen, and to top it off, she had to witness how, seeing his head on that pike, that he was turned, and to hear that he fought to the death in his last moments, and she wasn't there, she wasn't even with him.

Michonne comforted Rosita, who had lost her girlfriend, Natalia had a tight grip on her hand, squeezing three times every so often, reminding her that she wasn't alone, even after all this.

Tara won't be forgotten, and she won't go unavenged.

Months had passed, and a cruel winter was setting in.

And soon enough, the Kingdom had fallen.

Natalia had ended up back in Alexandria with all the kids, whilst, Michonne, Daryl, and Aaron helped the Kingdom relocate to the Hilltop during the harsh snow storm.

Evie had stayed back, deciding not to go with Daryl and the others, but Lydia had, the two had noticed the blondes push back from the other girl, wanting nothing to do with her, barely able to stay in the same room for small periods of time, it was too painful, because all she could see was her best friend and what the girls mother had done to him.

The nightmares had gotten so bad, that Evie had resorted into having to stay in her parents bed, with Natalia, whilst Daryl took Archie and vacated elsewhere.

Natalia wasn't too fond of the fact that when the conditions of the storm had gotten so bad, that the people of Alexandria had no choice but to break into groups, staying in the homes with the largest fireplaces, which she just so happened to end up in the one with the person she hated most in the world than anyone, Negan Smith.

"I swear to God, I have memorised every square inch of this room, and it still feels like a party." The insufferable man laughed, whilst Rosita handcuffed him.

Natalia rolled her eyes as she bounced an nine month old Archie on her hip, who seemed to reflect his mothers feelings, as he cried, his face red and puffy, lip quivering as he clung to his mothers coat.

"A never-ending party from hell." Rosita humoured him.

"I mean sure, all right, it smells like a barn in here, all bored shitless, but..."

"Language!" Judith snapped, pointing at the twins, who were boredly colouring with Gracie and RJ.

"Shit." Daisy nodded.

"Daisy Caroline, uh uh." Natalia shook her head.

"But he said it!" She pointed at Negan.

"You don't do anything that man does or says." Rosita added.

"Mommy, why is Shit a bad word?" Bambi asked. "Daddy says it." 

"Daddy's a grown up." Natalia ran a finger down Archie's face as he continued to whimper and cry.

Daisy let out a frustrated growl as she covered her ears.

"Mommy, shut him up. I drew out of the lines because he's distracting me."

"Honey, he can't help it he's just a-"

"He's just a baby." She rolled her eyes, "and I'm trying to colour, we're all cold, and I miss Daddy too, but all he does is cry!"

"Hey, you cried too, just as much when you were his age." Rosita pointed out.

Daisy furrowed her brows at this knowledge.

"No I didn't." She crossed her arms.

Gabriel snorted at this.

"Uh, yuh huh, your sister lived at my place so she could get some sleep, with the both of you keeping everyone up."

"What about me?" What was I like as a Baby?" Bambi asked.

"You, Missy, puked on me, the second time I met you, just like he did, we called you EJ for months, till your dad made us stop." Rosita smiled, pointing at Eugene.

Daisy giggled loudly at this, whilst Bambi blushed darkly.

"Why did Eugene puke on you?" Gracie asked.

"That's a need to know basis, go back to colouring." Natalia shut the conversation down, placing Archie on the ground so she could dig for another thick sweater, when noticing Evie pull the blanket around herself tightly.

The teenager was sat in the corner, reading a book, Emma, and refusing to look or talk to anyone.

"Hey." Natalia greeted the girl, kneeling beside her as she handed over the sweater.

"Hi." She mumbled, turning over the page of the book.

"What you think so far?"

"S'alrght." She hummed.

"Put the sweater on, you're shivering."

"I'm fine."

"Eves." She sighed.

Evie huffed, snapping the book shut and pulling the sweater over her head.

"Happy now? Can you leave me alone?" She asked.

Natalia was taken aback by this, but decided to pat the girls leg, backing away and giving her the much needed space she demanded.

"Jude, don't sit so close to the window." Siddiq told Judith, who was still staring into the darkness.

She listened, backing away and letting the curtain fall shut.

"Hey, kiddo. you still worried about that mutt?" Negan asked her.

"Hey, don't call my dog a mutt, mutt." Daisy told the man.

"Hey, Daisy, we don't call peop- wait, actually, never mind." Natalia thought. "Just this once, okay?"

"Uncle Daryl told me to take care of him for Aunt Nat whilst he helped the Kingdom move to Hilltop." Judith answered the man. "I don't know where he is."

"It's not your fault, sweets, he'll be okay." Natalia assured her. "He's tough, a lot like you."

Her eyes had wandered to her son, who had crawled his way to Negan, using the mans leg to help himself stand up.

Negan was supporting the baby in order for him not to fall and hurt himself.

"Archie! No, come back here." Natalia told him, scaring the boy, but Negan was quicker to catch him from falling on his backside.

"He's trying to walk, Nat." The man told her.

"Don't call me that. Ro, y'mind grabbing him, I don't want him walking yet, or going near that. I can't either, if you demand he should still be here."

Rosita listened, swooping the baby up.

"Wait, Nat, you're not letting him walk?" Gabriel asked.

"Daryl's not here." She stated, as if that were the obvious response, but when she was still met with confused looks, she was forced to reiterate. "If Archie starts walking and he's not here to see it, he'll be crushed, that's not fair, so if I can just halt it for the moment, until he's back, it'll be fine."

Negan let out a low whistle, amused by this.

"Never had Daryl pegged as that kinda dad that gave a shit."

"Language!" Judith repeated.

Rosita had found his assumption funny, though, letting out a scoff as she shook her head.

"You clearly don't know any of us as much as you seem to think you do." She rolled her eyes.

Before he could respond, something else had caught his attention.

"Does anybody else smell something?" He asked.

"Can you stop being such an asshole?" Siddiq asked, earning a harsh glare from Natalia, because as soon as he said it, her five year olds repeated it.

She envied Michonne, for having a small child that didn't seem it absolutely necessary to repeat every bad word he heard.

"No, he's right, something does smell a little funky in here." Rosita backed the man up, smelling the baby in her arms.

Eugene looked up, sniffing the air, before staring at the fireplace.

"Get away from there!" He demanded, jumping up from his seat to pull Siddiq and Gabriel away, but it was too late as the fireplace exploded.

"As I suspected." Eugene called, once he was able to examine it. "The chimney flue is completely gunkified. What singed your nostrils earlier was no doubt a toxic mixture of creosote and H2O." He then backed out, turning to everyone. "Blizzards done some tearing and blaring. And our chimneys ventilation capabilities are nil to none. It'd be unwise to spark up another blaze lest we plan on ceasing all respiratory functions, A.K.A smoking and choking, and having a lil babe in here, well, it would not be a pretty sight, and an painful end for the fella."

"God, I missed you, Eugene." Negan smiled at him.

"I can't say the same." He replied.

"Mommy, I'm cold!" Daisy looked up, as her and Bambi huddled around their mother.

"I know, baby, me too, why don't you, RJ, Judith and Gracie all get the blankets and make a fort to keep each other warm?" Natalia suggested.

"Okay, Mommy." Bambi listened, then walked towards her older sister, tapping her on the shoulder and asking for her help, to Natalia's surprise, the girl, who was still on the same page when she had gone over to talk to her, put the book down and took her little sisters hand, walking over to the other kids as they grabbed blankets and smothered themselves.

Natalia's eyes followed them as she headed towards the other adults to talk about what they were gonna do.

"You know without a fire, we'll never get these people warm enough." Siddiq shared.

"Yeah, we should leave before the temperature drops any lower." Rosita agreed.

"He's ice cold." Natalia muttered, pulling down Archies tiny hat over his head, he had finally fell asleep, his head layed on her shoulder as she soothed him gently, trying to keep him warm.

"Okay, folks. Contingency plan." Gabriel spoke to the people around the room. "We're going to Aarons house. It'll be tighter quarters, but we'll make it work." They then parted to get ready for the move.

"Seriously?" Negan questioned. "Not one of you assholes are gonna untie me?"

"We could tell Michonne it was an accident." Rosita shrugged.

"Or you didn't wanna leave, we had too many people to worry about, she won't blame us." Natalia added.

The plan to get everyone to Aarons house through the storm, was quite simple, a rope that everyone would cling to, in order not to get lost. Evie and Judith were in charge of sandwiching the twins, RJ and Gracie, as they were the two oldest, whilst the adults helped everyone and made sure it went smoothly.

Rosita had helped Natalia secure Archie to her, and so he wouldn't face any harsh winds.

Once they were ready, they set off.

As they walked, a dogs barking had caught the attention of the small kids on the line.

"Dog!" Daisy screamed into the wind, "Dog's here!"

"Dog!" Judith joined in.

"Dog, come here, boy!" Daisy let go of the rope, running into the darkness, Bambi following.

"Wait!" Judith screamed after the twins. "Aunt Nat, they're gone!"

"No!" Natalia cried. "No, girls, wait, come back!"

"Daisy!" Siddiq shouted. "Bambi!"

"Daisy!" Negan shouted, letting go and going in the direction they had gone, shouting their names.

"No!" Rosita shouted.

"Negan!" Siddiq called after him.

"I have to go after them!" Natalia demanded.

"No, you can't!" Rosita told her.

"Mom, don't, I will!" Evie volunteered.

"No, do not let go! We need to get these people to Aarons."

"But my kids are out there!"  Natalia almost shrieked.

"Daisy! Bambi!" They could still hear Negan shout.

"Girls!"

Soon everyone was chanting the twins names, trying to find them, but it was no use, you couldn't see shit in the dark and flurries of snow.

When they were able to reach Aarons, Natalia had left Archie in the arms of Evie, as she ventured back into the storm.

"Daisy! Bambi!" She continued.

"Here!" A males voice called as dog barks sounded.

"Negan?"

"I got 'em! I got both of 'em, and the dumb dog!" His figure emerged through the darkness, limping towards her. "Got 'em."

Natalia ran to him as tears blurred her eyes, in relief.

"My babies." She weeped, as Negan passed the huddled girls into her arms.

"We got Daddy's dog, we found him." Daisy told her in a small voice.

"Mommy's dog." Bambi corrected.

Natalia let out a laugh as she rubbed her hands up her daughters arms, trying to get heat into them.

"Don't ever run away like that, again, you hear me? You near scared me to death!"

"We won't." They said in unison.

"Good, and girls, Daddy doesn't need to know about this, okay? No need to worry him for nothing."

"Okay, Mommy."

"Why don't you go inside, get Aunt Rosita to make you both some hot cocoa, I know Uncle Aaron keeps some in the kitchen."

"Yay!" They both squealed, running into the house, Dog following them excitedly.

"And don't give any to Dog, he can't drink it!"

She then turned to the man, who was watching her with a small grin, but by the look of his leg, he was trying hard to keep the mask on.

"This is the worst thing I've ever had to do, but, thank you." She told him, though the words tasted bitter in her mouth.

"Oh, come on, Nat, you can do better than that." He teased.

"Don't call me that, I still wish harmful violence on you, and I'd do it now, if you hadn't saved my girls, so I'm willing to spare you, just this once, Evelyn or Siddiq will fix up your leg."

"You seriously ain't gonna tell Daryl?"

"He doesn't need to know everything that happens whilst he's away, besides, I'm doing you a favour, he doesn't always carry the same mercy as I do, not when it comes to the kids, because you are wrong about him, everything, you were wrong."

"An' it took you hiding out in the woods to prove this to me? And yet, the man of the hour is always heading off since y'all joined society again."

"Don't make me rethink my morals, Negan." She turned, walking back into the house.

It was the next day, when the storm had finally calmed down, coating Alexandria in a thick snow wonderland.

The kids were playing in it, under Natalia's supervision, Rosita by her side, when the others had returned home.

"Daddy!" Gracie squealed excitedly, running to Aaron, as he entered through the gates, Judith right behind her, as she fled towards her mom.

The twins had looked up from their snow man, following the noise and spotting their own father, and so had Natalia.

Daryl embraced his girls tightly, smiling wide as he took them in.

He cupped Natalia's cheek, kissing her as soft as he could, showing to her how much he'd missed her whilst he was away.

"Where's Archie?" He asked. "And Eves?"

"Inside, hates the cold." She chuckled, kissing him again. "I missed you."

"Missed yer, more." He promised.

They smiled at each other, before something was hurled at them.

The couple turned to where it was thrown, spotting an mischievous looking Judith, who was holding another snowball in her hand.

"Judith Grimes?!" Natalia gasped in faux horror.

She then threw the next one at them.

"Oh, that's it!" She laughed, crouching down to gather her own snow ball, whilst the girl ran away with a scream of laughter.

"Get 'em, girls." Daryl told his twins, teaching them to form snow balls, causing chaos as it turned into a full on war of a snow ball fight, even Lydia had joined in.

"Everyone get Daryl!" Rosita called, as everyone began pelting their balls at the archer.

"Girls, get Daddy." Natalia grinned, throwing a snow ball at her husband.

"Hey, hey! Truce, alright, truce!" He called, his hands up in surrender as he covered his face with his arms.

They gave the man a second to recover, before Daisy threw another snow ball at him, then Bambi.

Everyone gasped, as the girls giggled cheekily, that was until Daryl got revenge, throwing his own back, and the war broke out again.

"Get Mama, get yer Mama." He laughed, encouraging them to turn on Natalia as he grabbed the woman by the waist, using her as an human shield.

"Daryl Dixon, don't be such a coward and let your five year old daughters throw snow balls at you." She laughed so happily.

"Lydia! Help us." Daisy demanded, as she and her twin scooped up snow to throw at their parents.

"What's going on?" Evie asked, joining everyone outside.

Daryl answered her by throwing snow at the teenager.

"Dad?" She gasped, wiping snow of her face.

"Eves you gotta return the favour." Michonne told her.

Evie bent down, scooping up snow and throwing it at Daryl, then at her little sisters, who were already getting ready to aim.

And the war continued, until everyone broke down to the ground, making snow angels.

And just for a little bit, life was good, their problems were temporarily gone, their pain was absent.

Next

[nerendus]

There's still a few bears and hippopotamuses wandering untouched in the shadowlands, but in terms of story and main bosses, I can comfortably say I have finished the Shadow of the Erdtree DLC. And boy, do I have some thoughts.

Most of what I have to say is extremely positive, but there is of course the hippopotamus in the room--the ending of the DLC, which I discuss here and here in greater detail. Short gist is yeah, it sucked and the fact that MohgMiq (one of my favourite aspects of the base game) was a lie sucks, and fighting Radahn as the final boss sucks and would have been infinitely better if it was Godwyn instead, but I understand this is coming from the perspective of a person who has been reading into the story for two years, and GRRM probably didn't intend the story to be broken in to two parts and only be furthered explain long after the base game, and if I had played the game for the first time along with the DLC I would not be upset in the slightest.

I've made my peace with it. There's nothing to be done. I will keep the tags muted for a few weeks to just let everyone else cool off probably a lot slower since having a feed full of people complaining isn't exactly fun, especially considering how amazing the rest of the DLC is.

And...that's it for complaints. Now on to unending praises.

First, the gameplay and combat was really fun. It's baked in to be difficult, and while some players probably won't like it, I really really really enjoyed it. It took some time adjusting to, but after that, I just came to expect bosses to be difficult and had a fun time with it.

The setting was absolutely gorgeous. All of the areas just blew my mind. It's kinda embarrassing to admit, but there were multiple moments where I unintentionally started doing the pog face whenever I entered a new area. The Abyssal Forest, or as I like to call it, Louisiana, is by far my favourite area and may be my favourite out of all Fromsoft games.

I also really loved the Shaman Village. I long theorised Marika to have come from a simple background and finding that place....man I want to cry just thinking about it. Marika is my favourite character in the game, and I never stop winning when it comes to her lore.

Jagged Peak was really fucking cool. The music and skybox...mwah mwah. I loved finding the two dragons fighting each other, that was so cool to see. And Igon, my boy, his voice actor deserves a raise. What an insane performance. Bayle was an amazing boss fight, difficult--mainly because my computer couldn't keep up with him--and very satisfying to beat.

Dragon lore was also amazing. I was always confused on the idea of dragon communion if the people who worshiped the dragons were the ones eating the hearts, but it makes so sense that they only eat the hearts of lesser dragons. I loved it. I also loved the dragon priestess, I want to marry her.

I loved the look of gaols in this. They are so pretty, and it was so fun traversing through them while weird jarussy enemies attack you.

Ymir!!!!!!!!! What a freak!!!!!! I loved him and the Mother of Fingers. Fingers lore is a weird phrase to say out of context, but wow, I really loved the fingers lore in this expansion.

Messmer, my beloved, I love him so much. With the trailer, I sorta expected him to be like, a ruthless heartless freak that's losing it, but when you get to him, he just comes off as....lonely and sad. My poor boy. If he would stop attacking me, my Tarnished could have him return to the Lands Between and become their god when they achieve status of Elden Lord but noooooooo. He's very much his mother's son in level of tragedy and very very very easy to sympathise with.

I loved finding St. Trina. I missed out on their entire questline and didn't even ever find the NPC tied to them, but I got a cute flower so I'm happy. :) The game uses feminine pronouns for them, but I still feel a bit weird referring to them as she/her, especially since the base game sort of implies them to be genderfluid but Idk, maybe eventually I can convince myself to call them a she.

Midra and Nanaya are officially my favourite characters, and I don't even really know that much about them. I've come up with a pretty good baseline of what I think is their deal here, but I really want to talk about them more. I'm already outlining a fic about it, but I'd love to have other people's input on their whole story.

That's pretty much it for the big stuff.

Final rating: 10/10. I wanted initially to bring it down to a 9/10 for the ending, but the rest of the story truly is too amazing to make it any lower than 10.

But yeah, I'll start dissecting the lore in my sleep and posting about it here. And of the topics listed with great love here is open to discussion. I want to talk about the good parts this DLC because it truly was amazing, but for now....I am going to sleep.

[jinx-on-mars-19xx]

Where the Sea and Land Kiss

Dom x Colson (Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly)

Warnings: future ABO (possibly). No real warnings yet, this is really just a test. An idea @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker and I were workshopping and I thought I'd see what everyone thinks. Cursing, boys looking at each other longingly, mentioned violence, vikings, magic, naked boys ☠️ Rating: mature

I'm not done with the other I swear, I've just been very sick with a lot on my mind so I've been resting but we talked about this and I had to test it out. I hope you enjoy 🖤

Something woke Kol'son from his deep sleep. He was always ready for battle, he had been raised to listen to every twig or crackle of the fire or shift of the wind but as his blue eyes opened just enough to scan the room he didn't feel danger. Whatever had made the noise didn't make the man's hackles rise or set an alarm off in his head. He'd been brought up to listen to his senses and trust his instincts but he was confused. Somehow he knew his home had been invaded but he didn't feel threatened. For a moment he thought one of his clan's children had come to him or possibly one of the women had snuck in to try and bed him again but the world quieted and he let a sigh escape.

The chieftain rolled on his side then to his belly, his soft cock ghosting against the unbelievably plush new pelt he'd been gifted and he couldn't help rolling his hips just to feel it a little more. He normally didn't accept gifts but there was something about the skin that drew him in. He folded his arms under his head and wiggled against the fur, letting the crackle of his fire lull him back to rest.

Damhnaic scoffed, he couldn't believe his pelt was being so molested by the warrior and he knew this was all his fault. All he'd wanted that morning was to get a closer look at the leader when members of his tribe fished in the boy's waters. He'd done it before, he'd been watching the man for years now but he must have gotten careless and left his fur where it could be stolen. When he returned to where he'd left it he found his hiding spot empty and a scent of children was left in its wake. He'd followed the group further than ever before, wandering after them all the way to their home and he waited in the tree line for darkness. His senses had of course led him here. To the leader. The naked, sleeping, quite frankly gorgeous leader and his pelt under him. Fuck it was just his luck.

"Join or fuck off." A gruff voice sounded and the selkie jumped, his jade eyes wide, his plush bottom lip rolling between his teeth. The man couldn't be talking to him could he? As he looked around he realized no one else was with them. He'd never been spoken to by a human. That wasn't allowed. "Your third option is die but my bed is new and I don't want blood on it."

Kol'son hadn't moved to look who was in his hut, he assumed one of the women but when he didn't hear anything he peeked across the room. In the shadows was a beautiful boy but the firelight caught his eyes and they reflected like the beasts of the land. That… wasn't normal. Must have been a trick of the light. "Are you lost?" He sighed, rolling back to his side and propping himself up on his elbow. Perhaps it was a son of another tribe who fell behind during a hunt. The kid looked young. Younger than him and he wasn't truly chieftain age, he wouldn't hold his position if not for his father's untimely death. He tried to live up to his name's promise, especially with something like that, but he knew at times he could be too soft. He should be gutting the intruder, not sitting up and trying his hardest not to scare him.

He pushed a hand through his hair, the blonde braids tickling his shoulder as he tilted his head and watched the kid. "Do you need something? Besides clothes?" Shit he was naked and beautiful and it made the man realize they were both bare to the elements. It was after all though his home. The intruder was the strange one.

"As if you can talk." The boy couldn't help but quip and he clamped his jaw shut. His first words to a human were sarcastic. Of course. He could just hear his mother's voice screaming in his head about the evil men and their brutal nature. His pelt was already stolen, he was fucked.

The chieftain surprised him by laughing, his head thrown back, his stomach muscles clenching. He couldn't help but stare at the tattooed and scarred skin. For a human he was gorgeous and if he smirked back and took a few steps closer no one could blame him. The bastard was magnetic. "Come, sit next to the fire and relax boy. Tell me where you're from. I don't recognize your accent." Kol'son knew that was a bad sign, the kid sounded far different than anything he'd heard before and he had been on plenty of travels.

"Let's jus' say I'm… from across the sea." Damhnaic tried not to laugh at his own joke as he stepped closer and bravely took a seat on his own fucking pelt. It wasn't the first time but it was definitely the first anyone else had shared it with him. Especially naked. What was happening? "Me people traveled 'ere and um… we lost our way. I got separated from 'em and found me way 'ere. When I saw ya fire was still burning I… I was cold." He shrugged, most of it was close enough to the truth. He didn't think he could get his skin back easily so perhaps making nice with the human would keep him safe for the night. He could steal it back in the morning and run for it. No harm no foul.

"Kol'son." The man nodded.

"I know."

"What?"

"Nuffin. I… 'eard someone. Um yeah, Damhnaic." When the human offered his arm to embrace the boy got nervous. He'd thought of touching him for so long but… that definitely wasn't allowed. As the chieftain tried to pronounce his name he felt something in his belly bubble, a rush of giddy nerves that had him reaching out and clasping the inked forearm. The Viking felt strong, his muscles bunching under his touch as they grasped and shook, greeting each other and lingering longer than strictly necessary. "Dom works." He finally giggled when the difference between their tongues was too glaringly obvious. It was cute the way he tried to shape sounds he'd never heard. He knew enough of the Viking's language to know that his name meant dark. Virtuous. Leader. Something far more beautiful than his own, he never felt like a gift for a god. He remembered the man's father, most of the clan he'd been following seemed nice and he still remembered the sound of his new friend's cries when he was told of his father's death at sea.

The newcomer got a faraway look and Kol accidentally tightened his hold. The boy's skin felt cool to the touch, almost wet in a way and he couldn't seem to let go. "Where are you?" He whispered, watching the orange flames flicker in the boy's big eyes but his voice startled him.

"Nowhere. Sorry I- I'm tired." Dom smiled, pulling his hand back and tucking his long raven hair behind his pointed ear. His skin almost burned where they'd touched as if he was forever marked. How was the human so hot? He didn't think they were supposed to run so warm. "I should go." He whispered into the air between them but he made no move to escape.

"Stay." Kol'son sighed back before shaking himself and clearing his throat. If he didn't know better he'd think the boy magic. There certainly was a spell over him. He shouldn't let someone sleep in his home but he didn't want him leaving. He couldn't bear it. "You're welcome here. Just sleep and in the morning we can find you something to wear and fill your belly and I'll try and help you find your way home." There, that sounded like something a leader would do. Right?

Damhnaic smiled and chewed nervously at his lip. The Viking was surprised by the sharpness of his teeth but he knew other clans sometimes did that to their people to scare off others. Give them an edge. He just hoped the boy wasn't from one of the cannibal tribes. Shit maybe he should ask more but not yet. The kid looked exhausted and scared.

Dom shifted down, a little confused at the offer but he tried to lay on his own damn pelt and rest. His gaze fell to the fire instead of the man but he could still feel the heavy blue eyes on his skin and when Kol'son finally laid down and got comfortable he swore he could feel the touch even though he wasn't in his own fur. He didn't know how he was supposed to sleep but perhaps laying on a bed with the human all night wouldn't be so bad. He would just enjoy the company and leave when the leader was distracted. He just needed to wait for a moment he could secret his self away. That was all. He was just trying to keep his pack safe. Keep hidden. That was obviously the only reason he would stay the night. Obviously. One night and no longer. What harm could it be?

Author's Note/Tags: @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker @manicpixiedreamb0y @hollywoodxwhore @jaxbreaker @cole-way-iero28

This is a viking/selkie AU if that wasn't obvious. Names have been slightly altered but they're still them. I'm not totally sure how this will go so let me know what you think. I'm nervous. I've never done anything more story than sex 😂🖤☠️