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#that is not a healthy mode of shipping ffs
mirrorofliterature · 1 year
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me: I like sirius AND remus!
everyone else: hisses
[note: this is an over-generalisation, and specifically refers to people putting up sirius/remus and simultaneously putting down the other, which is, urgh, not good for nuanced character or ship analysis! why are you in the ship if you don't like one of the characters, FFS].
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f-identity · 1 year
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tag memes and State of Nad
I've been tagged by more than one person in respective posts, so the following are my entries.
Tagged by @chin-up-spartan (thank you bestie <3) 🦅
Rules: Tag some people you want to know better and/or catch up with, then answer the questions below!
Last Song: "Watch The World Burn" by Trivium. Fave band for multiple occasions, whether driving or writing. Studying, even.
Three Ships: KOBD (or Punformers as I call them), Venom/Eddie, uhhh a demon/monster with a self-insert (I've been vent-writing that last pairing).
Currently Reading: Recently finished Northern Lights by Philip Pullman. Maybe I was reading too fast, or I just need a break before reading the next two books.
Last Movie: The Green Knight (2021). Dev Patel is a snacc, though the movie is not quite what I expected.
Craving: The household freedom/autonomy to establish a healthy weekly routine, especially after the end of food policing month enforced by household.
Tagging: Anyone who wants to do this? I don't want to be a bother 😓
----- Next meme, tagged by @whatudottu 🦎
Relationship status: Single, as far as I know.
Favourite colour: Soft pastel or pearly purple <3
Something I want right now: The various fiction and non-fiction books I have in my Kinokuniya Books shopping cart.
Song stuck in my head: "Cid's Theme" from FF VII Soundtrack by Nobuo Uematsu.
Three favourite foods: O'Briens classic chicken tripledecker sandwich, karipap / curry puffs, chocolate-filled biscuits.
Last song I listened to: (looks at Spotify this time) "Beast and the Harlot" by Avenged Sevenfold.
Last thing I googled: "Garmin Forerunner 55 Malaysia", because I was looking to buy a hopefully proper fitness tracker.
Dream trip: Mentally drawing a blank here because I'd rather escape my current household first.
If you had the opportunity to [safely] become a cyborg via body upgrades, would you take it? Well, fuck yeah. It'd be much easier for me to keep up with machinery maintenance than having to deal with ""diets"" and ""exercise"". I'll choose my own shape, and my alt mode can be a human-sized birb.
No pressure tags: I dunno. If either of these tag questionnaires pique your interest, feel free to do'em and tag me in reading.
Link to second tag meme post template.
----- In further news, 🐌
As per posts I reblogged to my creativity tag, I've thrown ingredients at my brain and worked on unclogging the pipes. Of course, progress on my WIPs will be faster if I can freely have table-space for writing, but I am still re-adapting to my fanfic pond.
Birdbrain is also keen on the topic of demons in general, and the possibility of fallen angels and non-Christian demigods just accepting their common classification as "demons"'. Her working title for this potential new worldbuild is "Decolonial Demons".
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volfoss · 3 years
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Hmmmm rant about weather report and anasui >:)
ok this will NOT be long bc i do not remember a lot of SO (thus do not consume a lot of fanon for it) and ill have some stuff under a readmore bc the whole spoiler thing:
weather first: i rly hate how people treat him as a soft boy who has done no wrong (when spoiler!! he has!!!!) or just like again using him to ship (it rly seems like thats all hes used for fandom wise). like i dont consume a ton of weather content so i dont have a ton to say for him sorry :(
anasui however, i have a lot to say about him. first off holy shit can the fandom not be transphobic for one moment!!! sick and tired of seeing genderbends of him (and in general tbh <3), but i am not getting into that a ton rn. however what i am here to discuss is jolysui <3 so in canon its not rly super healthy until things happen, and in order to get into that, i am going spoiler mode under the cut:
so imo jolysui is a kind of weird relationship esp for a main jojo ship that is canon. like until things become, well, annakiss and irene (does not want to get into the ending). but before that, the behavior is quite honestly rly uncomfortable. jolyne doesnt necessarily want anything to do w him and anasui is just pursuing her nonstop. Ive found a lot of the fanon (that ive seen which again isnt a ton bc i dont seek it out) really erases that and just makes their relationship normal, completely erasing how jolyne literally doesnt rly pay much or any attention to him. (sidenote- the way u portray it is like the closest to canon ive found) i think a lot of people really just want it to be something its not, and kind of force the characters into a box of super healthy relationship instead of anasui quite literally mostly caring about jolyne and practically using FF to get to her. also holy shitttt ive had enough of people acting like jolyne is head over heels with anasui when its literally the opposite way around. the way their relationship is handled is like my biggest fanon pet peeve bc idk its honestly pretty uncomfortable how hes just pursuing her. not to get personal on main, but ive been in relationships that are somewhat like how theirs is and its a horrible feeling. i rly rly hate how its romanticized so so bad to the point where its like omg happy family and theyre so healthy and normal. yasugap is right here guys...
also while im at it, how fanon rly reduces anasui to harmless little guy when the behavior hes exhibiting is very very gross, and also really reduce him to stupid when hes not. thats all <3
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seriouslyhooked · 4 years
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Feels Like This (Part 4)
Emma Swan is a once lost girl who is now making good. She has made a way in the world for her and her young son, Henry, and after years of hard work, Emma is in her last stretch of schooling for the career she’s always wanted. Unexpectedly, she finds herself in a tiny nation no one’s ever heard of for her last year of study. She knows nothing about the place except that it’s beautiful, has a world-renowned child life program, and is filled with possibility. Meanwhile, Prince Killian is hardly happy with the title he received at birth. As the second in line for the crown, Killian has long tried shaking his royal duties. He built a career in the royal navy, and has stayed out of the limelight, but his ship has been called to port indefinitely at the request of his brother, the King. Fate (in her many forms) brings Emma and Killian together and the resulting fic is a cute, fluffy, trope filled romp featuring heart felt moments, a healthy dose of insta-love and an assured happily ever after. Story rated M and will have 12 parts. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3. Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.
A/N: Hey everyone! So we are back now with another chapter of ‘Feels Like This,’ and you know I couldn’t resist a chance to show the first meeting from Killian’s POV too. This story is just a cute fluffy little exercise for my muse, and I wanted to let that continue in this chapter as well. There are some mentions of Killian’s past and some hints at the ghosts he carries, but by the end we’ll all be firmly in fluff-mode. Hoping you guys will enjoy this cuteness as a break from the stress in the world right now, and can’t wait to see what you all think!
“Alpha command, do you read us?!” Graham yelled into the sat-phone, but the only reply was the suffocating sound of subtle static. “This is team five, reporting. We need immediate backup. Again, immediate back up. Alpha?...Alpha?” Graham grimaced and looked close to chucking the offending device in his hand across the desert sand. “Comms are down, Cap, and they’ve got us nearly surrounded.”
“How many?”
“Twenty at least, probably more like thirty or forty,” Tink said from her perch as lookout. “Well-armed and trigger happy.”
“It’s an ambush in slow motion.”
“Fucking airborne!” Will yelled, his eyes widening from the adrenaline even as his voice grew high pitched from rage. “They were supposed to be here by now. What’s the bloody hold up?!”
“Doesn’t matter,” Robin countered, reloading his gun and grabbing his pack, readying for either fight or flight. The former would mean certain death, and the latter was by no means a guarantee they’d make it out of here. “We can’t hold this position surrounded. We’ve got to get out. We can take some down as we do, but there’s no way we survive an all-out fight.”
“What do we do, Cap?”
The sound of an explosion to their right rocked the dilapidated building they were using for cover, and his heart rate finally kicked into high gear. They had to get out of here, his instincts insisted, mission be damned. They’d find another way to get what they needed. Right now he had to see his crew saved from total annihilation. He moved to give the order when another explosion went off closer, blowing out the far wall. Fuck, they needed to move, Now! –
Killian’s eyes sprung open, and his body flinched, springing into action on instinct alone. His chest heaved with quick, uneven breaths as if he’d just been running for his life. It took a few moments to realize where he was and to see that the memories from before were no longer his reality. He was not in the dessert on assignment, he was back at home in a bed that was too soft and spacious and pristine to ever feel natural. From the looks of things, it was still dark out, and a glance at his bedside clock confirmed that the sun wouldn’t be up for at least another hour. He’d managed to grab 4 hours of sleep, troubled as they might have been, and though the lingering fear still clung to him, that bit of rest was progress. He cautiously moved up from bed and stretched his limbs out, loosening his taut muscles that were stressed throughout his sleep, and schooling his mind to calm his body’s turmoil, dispelling the adrenaline to the best of his ability.
To a civilian it would seem an impossibly small clump of hours to function, but Killian had grown used to inconsistent sleep, and his body and mind were hesitant to rest for any longer than his deployment norm. He had the usual problems of a soldier returning home right now. The bed was too soft, the room was too cool, and the space was too quiet to fall asleep easily. Then when he finally gave into slumber, he’d rest and relax only to jump up, forgetting he wasn’t on a detail somewhere chaotic. If he slept too long he also tended to fall back into dreaming, and though he’d been spared the full extent of that particular memory from his last deployment, it was only a matter of time before the ghosts of that day came back to haunt his dreams.
No use fighting it off. I’ve seen what I’ve seen, and I survived. Just keep moving. One step at a time.
Those words had become an anchor to him throughout the course of his service, and they helped take some of the edge off, though his body still held the familiar ache of unresolved stress. There was little he could do with that, but in the meantime, Killian chose to see the solemn quiet of this time of morning as a gift. He was up before the staff came in, meaning no attendants were on hand to see to him, and no one was poised to offer him coffee and breakfast. This gave him the chance to dress quickly, sneak out of his quarters, and head out the back way.
He hit the garden path just as the world began to brighten. The sun was still hidden, but that pre-dawn rosiness hung over the world. Automatically he moved past the landscaped path, forsaking the hedgerow which would soon hold one of the nation’s most magnificent living floral arrangements. His mother was exceedingly proud of those gardens, and she deserved to be. They might be maintained by a large landscaping work force, but she was out here every day, not just giving direction, but also helping tend the flowers that were her favorite. No matter how busy her schedule, his mother found at least an hour each day to be out here and do work, and that love and dedication had blossomed over the last thirty years most beautifully.
This morning, however, he was too restless for the garden. He needed some exertion, a reminder of who he was not as a prince but as a man. He set out for the steepest hike in the royal grounds, a trail he’d come to know from the time he was a boy. Some days he ran this path, but not this morning. No, today was about measured steps and observation. He wanted to experience the nature around him, and to blend in with the peace that existed here. The rigor of the climb and the steepness of these hills granted his body some much needed occupation. He’d been working out in the palace as best he could, wanting to stay in shape despite his early retirement, but that was never natural. Outdoor pursuits suited him much better, and when he finally reached the top of the rocky overlook at the far side of his family’s prime estate, his reward was far greater than any lifted weights or treadmill-based run. Up here, past the canopy of trees, he could see for miles. A blend of undeveloped hills and groves that led down to the coast, and all of it green and bold and brilliant. The land below was royally endowed, open to the public, but not until after the sun had risen. For now, there was no one out here. Just him, the earth, and the sea.
Alone with his thoughts as the sun appeared at the horizon, Killian’s mind wandered musing over the state of his world and where he must start going next. He was back here for good, and it was time to accept that, and he found that he could much easier than he once expected. Part of that was thanks to the help of his family in finding him a worthy use for his time, but there was more to it than that. He’d felt aimless for the past few years, despite the rigor and routine of his time in the navy. Something was missing for him, something more than honor and duty. Out here in the morning light he admitted that it wasn’t something but someone that he craved. He was ready for a partner, a woman who would see him as the man he was, not the man he seemed to be. He wanted connection, understanding, but mostly he wanted love. So far in his life a true love had eluded him. He’d had only fleeting tastes and failed potential. No lass ever stood out from the fray, and certainly none of them could see beyond his title. There was always that question of what a woman really wanted, and Killian hated that, and resented it more than he could say.
Despite being a rational, logical man, he must admit he liked the dream of what love could be. The greatest tales of romance spoke to passion and to lust, to desire so great it morphed into this unspeakable creation. Life was not worth living without love. Love was paint on the canvass, and magic in the wind. It had all this promise and was built up so high. Killian didn’t know if love like that could ever be true. It certainly hadn’t been for his parents. His grandparents, meanwhile had been deeply in love, but they’d both come from noble lineages. The expectation of their station was always with them, and their marriage was arranged and sorted out long before they could have any say in it. They were lucky to have a true respect and adoration for each other, and his grandfather had told Killian many times of how he took one look at Princess Eleanor of Gendora and fell head over heels in love, but even that felt too inorganic. What Killian craved was something authentic and defiant. It should transcend who he was and where he came from. It should make him feel, as nothing else ever had before, but he had to wonder if such a love would ever come. Perhaps he was not meant for such good fortune. Perhaps, it was just not meant to be. But he hated to accept that, not when he’d always wished for a love that strong, and for a family of his own to care for.
That sad thought troubled him as he watched the sun rise over the world, and as he finally made his descent from the hillside and headed back to the castle more than an hour later. By that time the grounds were alive with the abundance of staff who tended to the estate and to his family. No one gave his early journey any undue attention, and breakfast was the same as usual. The only difference was in his mother and grandmother, who were excessively eager to hear his plan for the foundation today. Killian had some things to settle with his superiors in the navy first, like submitting his final retirement papers, but that would be done by midday. The director at the children’s institute had told him yesterday that a good time to come would be the afternoon, and he’d been informed that the older children would be out today, meaning Killian would only see about half of their home’s occupants. He was intrigued at what this would be like. On the one hand this was important work, but would he truly be well suited to it? Only time would tell if the children would trust him, and he wasn’t interested in forcing anything. He was hopeful but realistic, but his mother and grandmother had different views.
“Oh my dear, you’re over thinking it. The children are going to love you, that is a certainty,” his grandmother said, waving her teacup with a mix of agitation and well-bred refinement that was quintessentially royal. “Just be sure to stay open to everything and everyone. That’s critical.”
“Um, right. Thanks for the advice Gran,” he said, not really understanding her emphasis on being open.
“You never know, you could really find your future there,” his mother added, her eyes filled with something he couldn’t quite pinpoint, but his mother and grandmother were spared further questions from him when his mother’s assistant called their attention to an impending public appearance. Quickly they left the room, but Killian couldn’t shake the sense that somehow the two most important women in his life were in cahoots.
“Any idea what that was about?” Killian asked his brother, and Liam looked up from the files in front of him. It was work he’d brought to the table and been pouring over all meal long, but just as expected, Liam knew exactly what Killian was talking about despite his multi-tasking.
“No, and that’s never a good thing.”
“They’re plotting something,” Killian added, wracking his brain for what it could be.
“They usually are. I’ll have Jefferson look into it.”
Killian appreciated the solidarity he had with his brother in this area, and they shared a bit more small talk before they both needed to be on their way. Liam had a country to run and Killian had the daunting task of fully removing himself from the royal navy. He had to go to base to see it done, but was offered the utmost amount of privacy. His higher ups thanked him genuinely for his service, not because he was the prince, but because he had earned it and they were sorry to see him go. Then the dreaded moment came when he had to sign and submit his resignation. He expected a sense of loss when he did this, but as he scrawled out his name in full and handed the sheaf of paper to the Admiral at the desk, he felt a strange sense of relief. A chapter of his life was now over, but in its closing another door would open. Maybe that door would bring him the fulfilment he was looking for. Maybe he’d find the love he really wanted. Maybe happiness would finally make its way into his heart.
“Excuse my impertinence, sir. But are you feeling all right?” one of the royal guards stationed to his detail asked as Killian returned to the SUV that brought him here. Killian knew the man had himself served in the navy before he ascended to this job. They had the shared understanding of what walking away from this active duty meant.
“Surprisingly so, Gus. Thank you.”
“Of course, sir. So, to the institute then?” Killian agreed and they headed out directly. The journey was not a long one, but the shift in land and scene and scape felt prudent. Killian was going from one world to another right now, despite their being less than an hour away from each other, and by the time they got there he was in a new headspace, ready for a fresh and interesting challenge to throw himself into.
Driving up past the gates of the Institute, Killian’s first impression was he was glad that the place appeared to be in good shape. He would expect nothing less from his family’s foundation, but when one said orphans and children in need, it usually sparked images of Dickensian squalor. While none of these children were in the best situation (for a loving family placement must always be superior), he could tell just from the outside façade that this place was a safe haven. There were outdoor toys and sporting equipment, areas for the children to play, and lovingly etched chalk designs all along the pavement and back walls. He smiled at the range of the work, from the scribbling of little ones to the more sophisticated imaginings of what must be the older teens. Seeing this all put him at ease, and as he stepped into the front hall, coming face to face with an older man and woman ready to greet him, he hoped to carry that good feeling with him.
“You must be Marco,” Killian said as he approached the man he assumed was the director. “My grandmother has great things to say about your work here.”
“I appreciate that. And might I say, we’re thrilled to have you here, Sir.”
“Killian, please,” he corrected as he offered his hand in a friendly greeting.
“Killian. Right, sorry,” Marco said with a somewhat bashful smile, extending his own hand to shake. “That may take some getting used to.”
“Not a problem. We have time.”
Killian looked then to the woman beside Marco, an older woman with silver hair and a stately presence. She was put together but also looked maternal, and in many ways she reminded him of his grandmother in her younger years. She had that same aura of kindness and good sense that children liked to flock to. She introduced herself as Marie, but her voice warbled with continued uncertainty. Like Marco, Killian could see how flustered she was in the face of meeting a royal, and his heart sank, but then he watched as both of them grew more composed and their energies settled into the seriousness of their work. They explained quickly about the children and how they were all gathered now in their post lunch activities. Killian didn’t know what the plan was, would he meet them one on one? Perhaps be assigned to one area? But then they walked in and every eye in the place turned his way.
In the sea of faces, which were all looking his way, only the adults seemed to realize who he was, and they schooled their features quickly, cognoscente of the children all around them and probably having been told about his wish to be more normal in this setting. The kids, for their part, just looked curious and Killian let out a sigh of relief. Still he felt a sudden sense of dread. Would he measure up to what they needed? Would they ever trust him? Could this really work? Could he really blend in? He felt a wave of something cynical and pessimistic wash over him, but then his eyes caught on a beauty so striking he nearly lost his footing. If not for all his years of expert training in self-composure, he’d have made a real ass of himself, but as it was, he felt stunned and mystified at the image there before him.
The woman who enchanted him at first glance was blonde and beautiful, with thick golden hair and soft, timeless features. She was delicate but capable, and he knew just from a glance that she would be a force of nature. The bow shape of her lips coupled beautifully with the symmetry of her features and the sun kissed tone of her skin. She was dressed casually, no doubt for the benefit of her work here, but he’d never seen jeans and a t-shirt look so good. His mind faltered in this moment, strung out on so many primal thoughts and desires, drowned out by only one instinct – he had to know her, get close to her, and see if she could possibly be real.
To this point the woman had still been sitting, while the rest of the room had all stood at his arrival. Killian noticed the little girl who was holding onto her, and from here he could sense the young girl’s worry. He couldn’t hear the mysterious woman’s words, but she said something that appeased the little one. The child nodded before they stood up, and for a fleeting moment Killian felt pride. This woman was no doubt adept at this, making this little girl feel safe and protected, but the thought flew from his mind as the golden-haired siren finally looked up and their gazes clashed.
Bloody hell, she’s gorgeous. The cursed words luckily never passed his lips, but he could think of nothing except how entrancing this woman was. Her eyes were so green, and even from across the room he could see the shade was strikingly similar to the natural landscape he’d escaped to this morning. He thought of summer grasses and the lushness of life, and when brought together with the rest of her, Killian couldn’t imagine a more perfect creature. She was undeniable, and he was absolutely thrilled that at long last he’d found her.
Found her? You don’t even know her, his mind said but Killian ignored it. Perhaps that was sensible, but what use was there for sense in a moment like this? He felt the pierce of what must have been an arrow in his chest, and in that fateful moment he felt assured that this was the woman for him, and that he would do whatever he could to be the man she wanted too. He’d have kept staring at her forever if he could, but luckily Marco spoke up, introducing him to the children and the volunteers here.
“Everyone, this is our newest friend here at the institute, Killian.” Killian smiled at the use of his first name, and he let go an unsteady breath, reminding himself to breathe as he tore his gaze from the woman across the room and looked to all the kids.
“You’re big,” one boy called out, and Killian couldn’t help but laugh. He knew he was rather large compared to the average man. Special forces required him to stay in top shape, but then again every full grown man must seem big to a boy so young.
“You should see my brother,” Killian joked, for Liam had a good three inches on him in the height department.
“Is he coming too?” Marie asked, a fresh panic waving over her and Killian went to quickly ease her mind.
“No, ma’am.” The woman let out a sigh of relief but the children were hardly done with their questions.
“Why do you stand so straight?” another boy asked and Killian explained.
“I was in the royal navy.” The kids were instantly intrigued, and murmurs and exclamations abounded through the room. In the sea of questions though, one tiny voice stuck out most.
“Are you a good person?”
The question came from the little girl beside his mystery woman, and despite her initial fear, Killian noticed how bravely this child held her head up and looked him in the eyes. She must have no idea the weight of such a question, but in her mind it was a simply query: Was he good or was he bad? He moved closer to her, ever conscious of the beautiful woman beside her and then bent down to get to her level.
“What’s your name, little one?”
“Cecelia,” she said, her voice only betraying the slightest shakiness.
“Cecelia. That’s a beautiful name,” he said honestly and Cecelia swayed side to side a bit with the compliment. He didn’t know if that was a good sign, but he took it as one since she didn’t flinch from him or step away. “Now as for your question, I certainly try to be good.”
“But you’re a stranger,” the little girl said, looking at him with an expression that spoke volumes. Strangers were clearly a bad thing in this girl’s experience, and his heart felt for her. What must it be like to be so young and have so little trust? But then again he understood on some level – in his life there had never been much trust beyond his family, even when he was very young.
“For now I am. But not forever, I hope.”
“My Emma was a stranger too,” Cecelia said, tugging a bit at the hand of the woman beside her and Killian’s mind mulled over the beautiful name. Emma. It suited her. “She’s a good person. Are you like my, Emma?”
Now Killian rose to full height and he addressed Emma as much as he did Cecelia. “I do like her.” Oh fuck! He hadn’t meant to say that. Shit! “I mean I hope I’m like her, lass. But only time will tell.”
“Miss Emma, does time talk?” Cecelia asked, totally serious, and Killian watched as the intriguing Emma bit her lip to keep from laughing as her eyes caught Killian’s again.
“No, honey. It’s an expression. It means that with a little bit of time you will know if he’s a good person. You just have to be patient.”
Hearing her speak for the first time only completed the spell, and Killian felt a rush of too many things. It was impossible to comprehend what led the way: awe, hope, interest. It all wrapped up so closely together, coalescing in this remarkable woman. The way she was with this little girl spoke volumes to her goodness, but despite his fumbled attempts to impress her, he could also see the tell-tale signs of interest. When she looked at him her cheeks tinted slightly pink, her eyes dilated, and her gaze wandered again, looking beyond his face and back down his person. It took everything in him not to flex. He felt damn good at her appreciating appraisal, and when she looked back up and her blush deepened, he was close to beating his chest. Again, he was saved from an announcement from Marco calling everyone’s attention and asking how they should best welcome Killian to the institute. The kids’ enthusiasm was infectious, and Killian was eager to do anything and everything they offered, but before taking his leave he made sure to offer some parting words to Emma, knowing they would hardly be the last that they shared.
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Emma.”
A pleasure was underselling the impact of their meeting, but it was best not to come on too strong. Instead he turned back to join Marco and the kids, spending the next few hours learning the ins and outs of this place and meeting each child who was here in a flurry of excitement and random facts about their favorite toys or secret hide outs. The estate that housed the institute was large enough to give the kids good space indoors and outdoors, and there were a number of things he realized he could genuinely help with. They had a few building projects that needed set up and extra hands, and it seemed they could use some added help with the activities for older boys. None of them were here today, having all gone on some day trip to the coast, but Marco was convinced that Killian’s presence could be beneficial to them all. To Killian it felt like being shoved in the deep end and being forced to swim, but he always preferred that method in his life, and he found that in just one afternoon there was already a sense of rightness being here.
That sense of right was especially palpable any time Emma Swan crossed his path, which happened over and over again. Her roll here seemed to be general in nature, and she helped out with many different activities and support elements no matter what they were. She appeared totally at ease at every turn, and Killian watched her closely, noticing how dedicated she was to this. She was sharp as could be, with instincts that served her well, but she also was quick to ask questions and clearly wanted to learn. Some might have considered her capability intimidating, especially when he had no real experience to draw from, but he didn’t see it that way. Instead, Killian found her passion invigorating, and felt his own pleasure at being here heightened as she showed him how to fit in and gain some traction with these kids.
“You have a real way with children, love,” he said at one point, when a group of the little ones were hard at work on a new arts and craft project involving paint and beans and tin cartons. Emma’s eyes scanned over the room, taking stock of each child in attendance before she looked back to him and her cheeks flushed again.
“Thank you,” she said, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I haven’t been here very long, so we’re still getting to know each other, but I came here to help, and I hope that’s what I’m doing.”
“You’re new to Montenarro then?” Killian asked, watching as Emma helped one of the young boys with the glue he was using, never complaining about the mess he made, just trying to guide him to the purpose of the project.
“Brand new. Like less than three weeks new,” she affirmed before smiling at her little charge and giving the boy all her attention. “That’s brilliant, William.”
“Thanks, Emma!” The boy beamed, adding more to his can that to Killian looked like a lovable, but unknowable mess of dried legumes.
“And what exactly brought you here?” Killian asked, already so damn grateful for whatever the hell it was.
“The center’s fellowship. They offer it every year and people from around the world apply. I was chosen this year,” she said, appearing thoughtful before genuinely smiling. “Sorry, it’s still weird to say that out loud. I never thought that this would happen.”
“You didn’t consider the possibility when you submitted yourself for consideration?”
“I didn’t actually apply. One of my professors nominated me. Then they pulled a bunch of strings to get Henry and I settled.”
“Henry?” he asked, doing the best to shield his expression. Still the mention of another man was like a swift kick to his gut. He looked down to her hands again and saw no ring, but perhaps that didn’t mean anything. He felt sick to his stomach that she might have another man in her life already.
“My son,” she said, looking at him curiously and she was surprised at him. Too late he realized he was grinning like a mad man. “Why do you look so relieved? Most men hear a woman is a single Mom and run for the hills.”
“So you are single?”
“Yes,” she said immediately and then “Wait you thought… That’s why you got that weird look just now. Not because you thought I had a kid.”
“No, love. I think it’s brilliant that you have a son. If he’s anything like his mother, he must truly be something.”
“Thank you,” Emma said, so much quieter than before, and before he could say anything else, the bell sounded for the kids, signaling this craft session was over and that dinner would start in fifteen minutes. “I need to collect all the projects. Would you mind watching the hand washing station? Be warned it can get a bit dicey.”
“Not a problem, Swan,” he said, and he saw the way her eyes widened at the use of her last name. She like it, perhaps more than she wished to let on, and he made mental note of that as he attempted to lead the kids to cleanliness. Emma was right about this job though, it had a definite splash hazard and involved fielding a never-ending litany of questions.
“What was the best part of being in the navy?” one boy asked.
“The men and women I served with. They’re my family now,” Killian said, sparking a longing look among more than a few of the children. “But also the travel. You can see the whole wide world on a ship, and the ocean is never a dull place to be.”
“Do you miss it?” another boy asked and Killian considered.
“I do and I don’t. It’s hard to explain.” The boy nodded like he totally understood, though there was no way he’d shared a similar experience.
“Were there pirates?” one girl asked and Killian considered his answer.
“Some men play at being pirates, but they’re not nearly as intriguing as pirates of old.”
“But pirates are villains,” another girl said.
“What’s a bill-an?” little Cecelia asked, mispronouncing the word, which she had never heard before. Killian helped her up to the sink on the little step stool and got the soap out for her to wash her hands. She was small, but so certain in her actions, it once again made him wonder at her bravery even as a little girl in a less than lovely situation.
“A villain is a bad guy,” the other girl replied and Cecelia looked stricken.
“I don’t like bad guys.”
“I know, little love, but not all pirates are villains. Some used to have honor. They were good men, they just… lived a little differently than the rest of us.”
“You sound awfully knowledgeable about pirates,” Emma said from the front of the room and he shrugged.
“Family legend claims that my great, great, great grandfather was a pirate.” The kids all grew wide eyed, but Killian focused on Cecelia. “But there’s nothing to worry about. There’s no pirate the world over who would ever dare to mess with the likes of you all.”
“We’d make them walk the plank!” one boy yelled, covering his eyes like he had a patch and waving a nearby paper towel roll like a sword.
“Argh!” A few other kids joined in on the action, but Cecelia held back.
“I bet you’d make a great pirate, lass.”
“Really?” She asked, looking around at the others. “But how does I be one?”
Taking a last look at Emma, and knowing he was about to venture into something embarrassing, he did his best to emulate a pirate. The words and the actions were exaggerated and over the top, but he was rewarded with lots of laughter from the little ones and a full smile from Cecelia. At one point they were all playing together and Cecelia came up and poked him at the side and tried her best at a pirate greeting.
“Hi hi, matey!”
Killian and Emma laughed at that and Killian patted her gently on the shoulder. “Just as I thought. You’re a natural.”
At that moment another woman he’d met this afternoon, a counselor named Elsa, appeared at the door. She could have been aghast at the display in front of them all, with the water on the floor and the kids acting like swashbuckling sea dogs, but instead she just laughed. “Oh my goodness. I came looking for my friends and I found all these pirates instead. But how will my friends have dinner if I can’t find them?”
“It’s us, Miss Elsa,” Cecelia said happily. “We is just pretending.”
“Oh thank goodness. Well let’s get a move on. Cook made us a wonderful supper. Wouldn’t want to miss it.”
The kids all hurried out, but not before they said goodbye to Emma and Killian. It was a rush watching them all go, and he felt a lightness in his heart that hadn’t been there for ages. But the moment he realized he was alone with Emma he grew even more excited. Finally they had some privacy, and Killian had no intention of squandering it.
“Has anyone ever told you that you cause quite a stir?” Emma asked. “The whole place has been buzzing about you all day.” 
Instinctively he assumed she must be alluding to his being a prince, and his heart sank. In all this time he’d felt so normal, but there was reality come to call again. “The excitement surrounding my arrival is highly overblown. I assure you I’m not quite so remarkable.”
“Well the kids certainly think so. Who knew being a Captain in the navy was so impressive? And were you serious about the pirate granddad, or was that just for effect?”
Killian listened to the light laughter that slipped past her lips and he marveled at the sound and at this new realization. It dawned on him that she actually didn’t realize who he was. She must not, right? If she was assuming their excitement came from his military career and his family’s strange potential origins, she might not realize he was a prince. It made sense in a way. She hadn’t been in Montennaro very long, and she’d never had any kind of awkwardness in addressing him today, but he assumed the whole staff would have been told the truth. At the same moment he was trying to figure things out in his mind, Emma reflected on what she’d said a second before. She suddenly appeared stricken and began back peddling.
“Not that you’re unimpressive. I mean it is amazing what you did, you know, serving your country and whatever. You’ve probably seen and done so much, and I didn’t mean to make light of that. I just meant -,”
Hating to see her worry about what was a truly benign comment, Killian reached out to take Emma’s hand. The feel of her hand in his immediately prompted a response and the electricity between them was unparalleled. He’d never experienced a spark like that before, certainly not from a simple touch, and he could read in Emma’s eyes that she felt the same way. When he spoke his voice was quiet and gruff, filled with the emotion of this intimate moment.
“There’s no need to explain, love. And as for being impressive, there’s more than enough of that to go around.” His thumb ran over her smooth skin and he reveled in the small gasp she let out, probably without realizing it. It set him aflame to know she too was affected, and as he met her gaze again, he swore he saw his future written in their dreamy jade-colored depths. “You’re really something, love.”
“So are you,” she whispered, moving a fraction of an inch closer to him as she said it. He was so damn tempted to capitalize on that, and to seize this moment for all its glory and promise. He longed to kiss her, to taste her, to feel her in his arms where his heart felt she belonged. It was madness and bliss, but before he could do anything her phone began to chime, a recognizable alert that must be an alarm.
“Shoot, that’s my alarm for Henry. I have to pick him up from camp. I can’t be late.”
Despite his disappointment, Killian knew that for Emma her son should and would always be the priority. He respected and admired that, and he gave her hand a gentle squeeze before letting go.
“May I walk you out, Swan?”
“I -,” she sounded like she was going to protest, but then he watched her change her decision in her own mind to one that he vastly preferred. “I’d like that, actually.”
Though they didn’t move hand in hand, they kept a close distance to each other, and Killian felt a rush at still being with her but dread that they both had to go and take leave of one another. He knew she was working tomorrow, and he was dead set on being here all the hours that he could when she was around, but it was hard to picture leaving her. In just a few hours she’d come to mean something to him, and the thought of saying goodbye didn’t sit well in his chest.
“So what’s with the bodyguards?” Emma asked, pulling him from his internal reverie as she motioned outside to Gus. The others had left during the day, the caravan of cars he arrived in now only have one car physically on the premises, but he’d forgotten about all of them entirely. Killian tried his best not to react, and keep his face controlled. He had no wish to lie to her, but call him crazy, he enjoyed just feeling like an ordinary man for once in his life.
“His presence brings my family peace of mind.”
“Sounds a little extreme,” Emma said but she considered. “There’s nothing to worry about, right? For the kids I mean.”
Despite her caveat of it being for the kids, Killian felt she was a bit worried for him too. At least he hoped that was the case. If it was, maybe it meant she felt as much for him as he already did for her. “No, nothing. It’s just a precaution, and after all my years away from home, I’d like to give them whatever reassurance I can that I’m well and good.”
“That makes sense actually,” Emma admitted, thinking on it. “Before I had Henry I would have thought that was crazy, but now. Well, love can make you do crazy things.”
“It can indeed, Swan,” Killian said regretful that they’d already made it to the front gate and that this would have to be farewell, at least for now. “So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“I’ll be here,” Emma agreed, looking back at the building with a look of contentment before gazing back at him once more. “See you later, Killian.”
With that, Killian watched as Emma walked away, heading towards her son and their life here somewhere in the walls of the city. He did catch the moment where she looked back at him though, and it filled him with hope as nothing else ever had. It was only a second, and before long she’d slipped out of sight, but she never really left him. For the rest of the evening Emma was with him, in spirit if not for real, and Killian knew in his heart that meeting Emma had changed him, and that someday, somehow, he’d find a way to be with her, no matter what it took.
Post-Note: So… what did you guys think? I hope that you all enjoyed getting to see Killian’s POV on the first meeting. I know that I personally loved the fluff of this chapter, and I worked hard to make it authentic to the story and to CS as a whole. As with most of my stories, this is an insta-love, fluff-for-days kind of vibe, but there is a bit of intrigue. Like when will Emma learn Killian’s a prince? And will they be able to get together when that truth is revealed? It’s me writing it, so you guys can probably guess how things might turn out, but I can’t wait to share how this story will go and to keep writing this fic that’s been in my head and my heart for some time. As always I thank all of you so much for your support and kind words. They mean the world to me and I cherish every comment and message and review. So thank you, thank you, my friends! Now please, stay safe, be well, and have a great rest of your day!
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firjii · 6 years
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@bleedtealblood-fuckeduplol replied to your post
“lads I have an unpopular take on Mistle from the Witcher books and one...”
Well im curious, dish :3
First of all, I’m not super involved in Witcher fandom so I don’t know the general consensus or historical/current fandom takes on this. I really don’t have the time or energy to do so. I’ve read every Witcher novel with an English translation through “The Lady of the Lake” but don’t really talk to other people about the Witcher universe (except maybe the W3 game). I therefore also doubt I’m the first to say this, so consider it a reminder rather than a revelation.
Putting this under a cut because it’s triggery, but TL;DR.....
Mistle x Ciri is one of my very few NOTP’s.
Why, you ask? Not because of how they treat each other once they’ve been in a relationship for awhile – because to Mistle’s credit, she consistently and genuinely sticks up for Ciri.
But.
Here’s literally their first intimate encounter together. It happens fairly soon after Ciri joins the Rats (from The Time of Contempt, chapter 7, page 322-324 in the U.S. Orbit paperback edition):
 [Ciri] heard some quiet steps.
“Don’t be afraid.”
 It was Kayleigh.
“I won’t tell them Nilfgaard’s looking for you,” whispered the fair-haired Rat, kneeling down and leaning over her. “I won’t tell them about the bounty the prefect of Amarillo has promised for you. You saved my life in the inn. I’ll repay you for it. With something nice. Right now.”
He lay down beside her, slowly and cautiously. Ciri tried to get up, but Kayleigh pressed her down onto her bed with a strong and firm, though not rough, movement. He placed his fingers gently on her mouth. Although he needn’t have. Ciri was paralyzed with fear, and she couldn’t have uttered a cry from her tight, painfully dry throat even if she had wanted to. But she didn’t want to. The silence and darkness were better. Safer. More familiar. She was covered in terror and shame. She groaned.
“Be quiet, little one,” whispered Kayleigh, slowly unlacing her shirt. Slowly, with gentle movements, he slid the material from her shoulders, and pulled the edge of the shirt above her hips. “And don’t be afraid. You’ll see how nice it is.”
Ciri shuddered beneath the touch of the dry, hard, rough hand. She lay motionless, stiff and tense, full of an overpowering fear which took her will away, and an overwhelming sense of revulsion, which assailed her temples and cheeks with waves of heat. Kayleigh slipped his left arm beneath her head, pulled her closer to him, trying to dislodge the hand which was tightly gripping the lap of her shirt and vainly trying to pull it downwards. Ciri began to shake.
She sensed a sudden commotion in the surrounding darkness, felt a shaking, and heard the sound of a kick.
“Mistle, are you insane?” snarled Kayleigh, lifting himself up a little.
“Leave her alone, you swine.”
“Get lost. Go to bed.”
“Leave her alone, I said.”
“Am I bothering her, or something? Is she screaming or struggling? I just want to cuddle her to sleep. Don’t interfere.”
“Get out of here or I’ll cut you.”
Ciri heard the grinding of a knife in a metal sheath.
“I’m serious,” repeated Mistle, looming indistinctly in the dark above them. “Get lost and join the boys. Right now.”
Kayleigh sat up and swore under his breath. He stood up without a word and walked quickly away.
Ciri felt the tears running down her cheeks, quickly, quicker and quicker, creeping like wriggling worms among the hair by her ears. Mistle lay down beside her, and covered her tenderly with the fur.
But she didn’t pull the disheveled shirt down. She left it as it had been. Ciri began to shake again.
“Be still, Falka. It’s all right now.”
Mistle was warm, and smelled of resin and smoke. Her hand was smaller than Kayleigh’s; more delicate, softer. More pleasant. But its touch stiffened Ciri once more, once more gripped her entire body with fear and revulsion, clenched her jaw and constricted her throat. Mistle lay close to her, cradling her protectively and whispering soothingly, but at the same time, her small hand relentlessly crept like a warm, little snail, calmly, confidently, decisively. Certain of its way and its destination. Ciri felt the iron pincers of revulsion and fear relaxing, releasing their hold; she felt herself slipping from their grip and sinking downwards, downwards, deep, deeper and deeper, into a warm and wet well of resignation and helpless submissiveness. A disgusting and humiliatingly pleasant submissiveness.
Guess what? Even though standing up to Kayleigh was absolutely the right thing to do, what happens next is called duress, and I can’t totally get past it. Even Ciri’s reaction the next morning (a hint that she’s reconsidering her orientation) is questionable.
Ciri didn’t ask to be in that situation. I don’t care what your orientation is. Anyone with a shred of decency doesn’t do that kind of shit when someone’s in survival mode and borderline shock (ffs how horny on main is Mistle that she won’t or can’t consider that?).
If Mistle had left Ciri alone after that or stood guard that night to make sure no one messed with her again, it would be very different and I’d wish them all the best. But that’s not how it went down.
Ciri is a little younger than Mistle and is under pressure to keep herself alive and incognito. That makes Mistle an opportunist at best and a predator at worst, even if Ciri didn’t actively shout “no” or scramble away that night.
Fight and flight aren’t the only two possible reactions in that situation. Not saying “no” isn’t the same as saying “yes” and literally any abuse or rape survivor will confirm that.
Yeah, fine, Mistle makes a point of turning Ciri on, but y’all…it’s not that simple. There’s an oh-so-vague but unmistakable tinge of “what happens if I say no?” and that’s not cool.
I was shocked when the tone between them in later chapters pointed so clearly to a relationship (I kept waiting for a passage where Ciri snapped and took action because she was tired of being someone’s pet, but conversely it makes sense that she doesn’t because she’s desperate not only for safety but also belonging and she finds an approximation of both with the Rats).
I’ve seen plenty of people in fandom totally ignore the above and just gush about the youngest wlw couple in the series.
Um. No. Initial consent – if not outright desire – matters, even if Mistle is still a teenager. Without that element, I have trouble seeing this ship as anything other than grooming, regardless of how they’re portrayed later in the series. I don’t classify that encounter as experimentation. Experimentation tends to imply that a) all parties involved planned it, and b) are willing and able throughout the proceedings.  
Mistle x Ciri didn’t start out on equal footing and that should matter to anyone who cares about healthy ships.
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