#to be fair i did love that wild card but it would have been DEVASTATING in this finale | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

10millionyearsdungeon · 5 years ago

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His Girl Friday

So! Shindou-mas was upon us! In honor of our favorite supporting character, we have a sordid tale of personal assistants and a week in the life of the notorious hero Grand. As part of a mini-collab with a few lovely writers from the BNHarem server! ============================= “Your case files are on your desk, Grand. I took the liberty of filing them from oldest to new to help you catch up.”

Shindou sat behind his heavy oak desk and flashed you his most dazzling smile. His nimble fingers unbuttoned the top two buttons of his pale yellow shirt and ran absently along the tanned skin of his throat. You had only started working for the hero as his personal assistant for little over six weeks now. Your temp agency had pre-assigned you to his agency but wouldn't disclose the reason why they pulled you from your prior assignment in Nagasaki. Your eyes lingered a half-second too long before you swore his perfect, sun-rivaling smile grew predatory.

"Is there anything else I can get for you, sir?" Your thighs shifted together beneath your pencil black pencil skirt and you hoped he didn't notice your squirming. He took the files you tirelessly worked over and shook his head.

"I think we're good, Y/n. Thank you."

You excused yourself from his office and beelined to the restroom. Splashing cool water on your face brought you back; you always suspected that your new boss was a flirt. Hell, he dictated his fan replies to you and his responses to the anonymous masses that elevated him up the Hero Billboards ranged from wholesome and sweet to downright lewd.

"He is your boss and this is just a job! We do not lust over our boss like some ill-mannered slut!" you scolded yourself in the mirror. With a huff and slightly better control over yourself you strode back to your desk and started on the next mountain of paperwork to fill out and catalog for your boss.

You felt like you had been working over reports and case data for backlogged cases for hours. A sharp buzz pulled you from your fastidious toil and the smooth, charming voice brought you back from data abstraction.

"Y/n, could you cancel my dinner reservations tonight? I'm afraid it's going to be a late night for everyone."

"Uh, yeah, sure thing."

"Oh, and call Tuesday in, would ya? You're the best."

The line went dead and you sat confused by his request...or maybe it was the heat that bubbled under your skin at his praise? Numbly, you opened his planner and hovered your mouse over the events for the day. "It's Monday. Why am I calling Tuesday's staffer in?" In your grumbling, you noted a tall, thin woman with soft blonde hair falling past her shoulders in cascading waves of spun gold stride past your desk. Wrapped in a tan trench-coat, her heels clacked softly on the polished floor of the agency. She always came on Monday, but you never thought anything of it. She didn't even spare you a glance as she pushed through the double doors and into Shindou's vast office. He greeted her with a wide sweep of arms and that obnoxiously gorgeous smile of his. The blonde woman giggled in his arms and sat herself across from his plush throne. Shindou made his way to the doors and shut them, flashing you a glimpse of that same hungry grin you swore you caught earlier.

With a raised brow, you shook your head and dialed the number affixed to the Tuesday staffer's sticky note on your planner app. Naturally, the call went to voicemail.

"Um...hey, this is Y/n from Grand Hero Agency. Grand is calling you in to work for the night. Thanks." Awkwardly, you hung up the phone and tuned the rest of the world out as you poured over your reports again. Your heart still hammered in your chest as you felt his eyes burning into you. Those harsh obsidian chips had a way of causing your brain to short circuit. Part of you wondered if that was a lesser known part of his famous quirk-- bringing women to the brink of stupidity with just his devastating grin? You sighed through your nose and pursed your lips at the report. Soft moans pulled you away from your work and you turned to the closed doors of his office.

Maybe you were mistaken. Your lip caught in your teeth, you strained to hear the conversation inside the office but there weren't any words. Another moan, louder this time, rattled the heavy doors of Grand's professional sanctuary. Blood rushed to your head and heat settled in your core. Spluttering over your desk, you squirmed in your seat and tried to imagine what depraved acts your boss was doing to pull those moans from his blonde companion.

Another girl, short and with a mess of red curls piled high on her head rushed through the department and stopped herself at your desk. Her chest heaved as she fought to catch her breath, sweat glistened down her pale, freckled collar bones. Even a mess she was a vision in olive green, and her eyes were pale ice chips set in porcelain. If the first woman was poured gold and refinement, this one was that one wild night in the pub wrapped in a pert little package.

"Don't tell me they started without me!"

"Ah! He's expecting you," you whimpered out in an attempt to hide your shame. The sprite bounced to the double doors in a huff and threw them open. The image of Shindou Yo's head nested between the slender, golden thighs of his blonde Monday staffer would be forever burned into your retinas. Her elegant head threw back against the plush leather of his office chaise and her long willowy fingers pulled through his jet hair as he coaxed another high keening moan from her glossy lips. The red headed newcomer held her hands on her hips and stood in the doorway. You drank in the scene and found yourself unable to pull away. Every fiber of your being screamed for you to look away and continue about your day but you just couldn't. Slack jaw and burning cheeks, you swallowed down your shame and sunk deeper into your chair only to feel his sharp, hungry eyes on you again. A silvery string of slick hung between his mouth and her glistening folds and the sight sent white-hot heat straight to your abdomen. Sinful smirk stretched across his handsome features, he dragged his tongue slowly along his slick-coated lips and waved the redhead over while he rubbed his golden goddess's thighs to help her come down from her high. With a pout the newcomer closed the doors behind her, leaving you in a puddle of your own desire.

You stepped away from your desk and began to make your way to the stairs. Air. I just need to get some air and then I can focus again. Heels in hand, you ran down the ten flights of stairs to the street level entrance. Your lungs burned with exertion, but the ten floors of steel and concrete between yourself and your boss only eased your unrest enough for you to think through the haze of your desire. His lascivious gaze stuck with you as you leaned against the cold glass lobby door.

It was hardly fair, the strain he put you under. He knew he was gorgeous, a literal god among humble mortals, and with his quirk he could have anyone he wanted. The longer you mulled over the implications of catering to the hero, the more lost you became. He knew what he did to you the longer he kept you on payroll. You could feel it when his eyes lingered on you whenever you brought him his decaf oat milk latte with extra espresso shot, or how he would gently vibrate his fingers against yours when you took his dictation. Your breathing slowed only to hitch at the thought of his tongue lashing at the dewy pearl between those bronzed thighs. What you wouldn't give to take her place sprawled out on that leather sofa carding your fingers through his jet hair as he nipped and sucked bruises into your thighs. Heat rose to your cheeks and suddenly the chill of evening was gone. Ignoring the gnawing, wet ache in your core, you sighed heavily through your nose. It started as a rumble through the foundation of the building and ended in a cascade of shattered glass with Shindou Yo triumphantly groaning his release into the skyline.

+++++

Wednesday marked the beginning of a new day with a new set of struggles. Grand would be out of the office, saving you the embarrassment of facing your boss at least one day this week. As you stretched and went about your morning preparations, Shindou's predatory stare haunted you. The warm, bitter aroma of hot coffee sloshing in your mug kept you grounded. Tiny scratches along your arms from the shower of window shards stung with every pull of your limbs as you dressed for the day. It would be at least two days before the building contractors replaced the windows. Maybe this time they would replace them with something more durable to seismic-grade vibrations than rudimentary glass. You pulled out your phone and squinted at the screen.

Message: Shindou Yo - Y/n, I have a few errands for you to run after sending those finished reports off to the HPSC. My list is already uploaded to your planner. You're the best, doll!

Your breath caught in your chest. It wouldn't take but a few hours to finish and courier over the reports, but Shindou's personal errand list? You cautiously opened your planner app and highlighted "Wednesday" with a trembling finger. This was a man quite capable of anything, and your career, your livelihood was in his large, devious hands. Much to your surprise (or was it disappointment?) his errand list was fairly innocent. Grocery lists, dry cleaning and package pick ups, it all seemed pretty self-explanatory. Every errand was detailed down to the minute, and for a moment you found yourself wondering why Grand even needed a personal assistant to keep his life in check. Dressed in your modest gray pencil skirt and white quarter-sleeve collared shirt, you took a quick look in the mirror. With a sigh, you steeled your nerve. This was your life now-- just another powerless pawn at the beck and call of a celebrated hero. You packed up your laptop bag, topped off your travel mug, and started your commute into the city.

Your key turned effortlessly in the tumbler of the deadbolt on his penthouse door. It was a feat with how many bags and hangers you had hanging from your arms. You cursed your boss and his arrogance. It was borderline harassment what he was putting you through. As you pushed through the doorway with Grand's parcels and bags, huffing to yourself over his arrogance, you swore you could hear the softest grunts coming from inside the suite. Dutiful assistant you were, you hung the tasteful slate and navy suits and dry cleaning in the foyer. Silence continued to permeate the suite as you worked to replace the groceries in the fridge and tidy the kitchen. Internally, you thought about calling the maid service if only to keep the penthouse clean for the careless bachelor.

"Hnnghnnn!!"

You froze and held your breath-- you knew that voice. A sickening crack resounded through the suite and was answered by another keening groan. A cool, low voice exchanged clipped, stern words. Your curiosity bubbled over and your skin burned scarlet at the vision swimming into view as you quietly emerged from the kitchen and into the open expanse of the playboy's living room. If the vision of his raven head buried between the bronzed and oiled thighs of a golden goddess left an impression, the sight before you would remain with you to the grave.

Rich, wine ropes dug into limbs hardened and sculpted by years of hero field work and honing his multifunctional quirk. Sweat dripped from the tip of his nose and onto the polished hardwood as he hung suspended by a bolt from where you assumed a light fixture once hung. A heavy black blindfold velcroed tightly to his handsome face kept him blindly sweeping his head to find his playmate. Sinful mouth was left woefully unattended and you felt your panties grow damp at the thought of all the horribly lewd noises about to be coaxed from his saliva-coated lips. But the cherry of it all, red and angry, weeping onto the floor bounced proudly against his washboard abs with every twitch and sigh. He curled backward, spine arched deliciously and stretched his pecs with every heaving breath. The leather-clad woman in thigh-high boots and fishnet bodysuit didn't even register as you drank in his helplessness.

"I want you to sit and think about what you've done, hero." Her voice was red wine and dark chocolate. It was night in the dungeon and her word was final. Her riding crop came down on the pale, toned flesh of his buttocks with another loud crack, earning another loud moan and a violent twitch of his neglected cock. Precum beaded and glistened at his swollen head, the light catching it in a way that made your mouth water from your hiding spot. As the imperious Amazon left the scene, your body moved on its own. Creeping through the dark, you sat on hands and knees beneath the quivering Adonis in his crimson silk harness. Wetting your lips, you raised up on your knees and dragged the tip of your tongue along the seam of his balls, up the thick vein running the length of his heavy shaft, and twirled around that leaking, hot head. He was all salt and heat on your tongue, a taste you could grow to appreciate under different circumstances. He let out a hiss under your tongue as you dragged the pad of your tongue against his head in soft kitten strokes. Your fingers drifted between your thighs and ran carelessly along your clothed silt, your slick rendering the cotton fabric useless. Grand was brought low by a Quirkless civilian, and all that remained was Shindou Yo, bound and moaning into the empty expanse of his penthouse. He keened above you and helplessly thrashed against his harness to seek more friction from your eager mouth. For a moment, you obliged taking his girthy length into the heat of your waiting mouth. He melted into his restraints and into the warm, wet cavern, helpless to your slow ministrations. His moans were low, needy notes littering their shared space. How frequently did you find your thoughts coming back to his penthouse? You moaned into his length and rubbed tight, sloppy circles on your clit over your drenched panties. The head of his cock pushed to the back of your throat. His poor, neglected cock twitched, and you felt yourself begin to come undone. His whimpering and frantic panting spurred you on until reason seeped back in through the cracks of your lust-hazed thoughts.

"I know you're still there," he sighed, still struggling against his binding. "I can smell you. You're loving this, aren't you? C'mon, sweetheart...is that the best you've got?"

His words, that sinful, husky voice doused whatever fire you had burning in your loins. He knew you were here. How could he not? Maybe he wasn't anticipating you finishing his list so soon? Or...more likely, in all his meticulous planning he wanted you to find him like this-- beaten and vulnerable, open to your advances. The door creaked open, signaling your chance to escape. Abruptly, you pulled his aching cock from your lips and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Scrambling gracelessly in your nylons against the hardwood, you dove back into the kitchen. Mistress Wednesday strode confidently into the frey, riding crop in hand. Harness slung across her hips in elegantly embossed black leather, her own proud length in dazzling ultraviolet was anchored to her crotch with a heavy steel ring. Eight inches and rivaling his own girth, your eyes rested on her gloved hands and how they worked to nimbly prepare his needy, puckered hole for the beating it was about to receive.

It was too much to take in. The scene unfolded and elevated to a higher level of filth you were far from accustomed to, and you, despite every cell in your body screaming to stay and enjoy the show you silently stole away. The only sound signaling your departure from the suite was the gentle click of the deadbolt latching between Shindou Yo's hungry moans. You called in sick the next morning agonizing over whether or not it would be poor form to put in your notice.

++++++

You fidgeted at your desk when he crossed through the foyer to his office. It was a patrol morning, and naturally he had to grace his staff with the morale boosting sight of the boss hitting the streets just like the lowest-rung side-kicks in his employ. His bare chest glistened under the fluorescents. Sweat dripped from his pretty-boy brow and harkened back to that moment when he was curled back on himself, sweat dripping down his sinew and steel body for an entirely different reason. It was all you could do to avoid his sharp, onyx gaze and that heart-melting smile.

"Y/n, I hope you're feeling better," he grinned. God, how you hated that grin! "We missed you yesterday."

"Ah, yeah. May I help you with something, sir?"

He canted that gorgeous, raven head of his and narrowed his eyes at you. "Actually there is." You waited for him to finish, your heart leaping into your throat the longer he loomed over your desk, but he never did. Instead, he sauntered through the double doors of his office and gestured for you to follow. Numbly, your feet followed before the rest of you could catch up.

Contractor tape still lined the window panes, a reminder of the last time you were caught in his crosshairs. You squirmed mulling over the implications of his quirk, your position, and how inexplicably tangled you had become in his daily life. As he pulled off his faceguard and set the sweat-stained support gear on the rich oak hardwood of his desk you felt him burn through you as if committing every exposed freckle to memory. He zeroed in on your lips and smirked, holding his arms open as if to invite you to take a moment and fully appreciate him for the god among men he was.

"Like what you see, sweetheart?"

You swallowed hard and nodded before you could stop yourself. It seemed to be the right answer because in seconds he was on you, pinning your back to the desk. He leaned over you, nose barely brushing yours and licked his lips slowly. His stare was downright predatory as he loomed over you, hands heavy and rough pawed at your poly-blend wrapped hips. He gripped at the dark fabric and eyed you hungrily. The breath you didn't realize you were holding slowly escaped through gently pursed lips, the preamble to what should have been your verbal notice. But something in his stare kept you silent, submissive. The possessive hold he had on your hips kept you grounded, but the scent of him after a patrol sent you reeling. Effortlessly he lifted your hips and slid your skirt down your legs, hoisting them over his shoulders once freed. It was his turn for his breath to hitch in his throat-- he drank in the sight of your damp, silk panties and dragged his tongue along his lips as if imagining how your fluttering walls would feel convulsing around his tongue. Pupils blown, he raked his eyes over your half-dressed frame.

"Shy? I thought we'd be long past that, sweetheart." He lowered his head and dragged his lips across the soft skin of your inner thighs. "After all, I still have to return the favor," he purred, dragging his tongue in one broad stroke up along your soaked, clothed cunt. A shuddering gasp broke through your self-imposed silence and you all but melted into his mouth. He hadn't even used his quirk on you and he had you quivering into his mouth. You felt him grin that feral, wolfish grin into your heat and the lift of your lower back from the cool, hardwood of his oak desk. How many times did he seduce and lay waste to his catch of the day? It barely mattered as you carded your fingers through the tangle of black curls and opened yourself to his advances. Shame was an afterthought you could afford if it meant you could satisfy that carnal curiosity surrounding your boss.

"Y/n, who knew you'd be such a lewd little slut." He pulled your panties to the side easily and teased your clit with the very top of his tongue. It started with a low, steady hum and graduated to a heavy buzz focused entirely on the head of your tender bundle. The sensation brought you to the edge almost too quickly. You fought against his hold, squirming and writhing with your legs squeezing helplessly around his head as he continued holding his tongue against you. Incensed by your sudden fight, he slipped a finger easily into your drooling hole and searched for that spongy spot that brought white stars to the edges of your vision. A moan, high and sharp ripped through you as he pulled his mouth from your now swollen pearl. Hungrily your cunt clenched around his finger, and soon he added a second. Your eyes clamped shut at the sudden addition and your body tensed around him. He planted soft kisses and gentle bites along your thighs as you slowly came back to a baseline he deemed appropriate. The moment he felt you relax, you felt it-- a hook of two calloused fingertips digging mercilessly up into your g-spot, vibrations resonating from deep within. You kicked and fought to writhe away and again he held you fast against the desk effortlessly. You tugged and pushed at his head, your end coming all too quickly. Your breathing grew frantic, moaning out half syllables and empty pleas for him to stop.

"Yo!!"

Shuddering into his mouth, you rode his fingers to completion, legs trembling around his ears like his own personal earthquake. He withdrew his fingers and brought them to his lips, groaning at the taste. Shindou palmed his half-hard cock through his hero suit and lowed his head for a taste from your source. Satisfied, he pulled your ass lower down the desk and helped you find your feet back on the ground. Your heels long forgotten, the carpet felt foreign under your bare toes when he turned you around by the hips and bent you over the desk. His hands lovingly dug into the meat of your ass and spread your cheeks to peek at your holes from a different point of view.

"So sweet, little miss secretary. So submissive. Who would have guessed you'd be such a dirty little voyeur, too…" he purred in your ear. The shuffling of fabric and the soft sound of skin sliding on skin punctuated his statement. "Bet you never thought you'd be part of the show, huh?" You whimpered under his caresses, slick dripping down your thighs as he ground his thick cock between your cheeks.

"Please, sir…" you moaned, rubbing your thighs together for some semblance of friction to ease the growing ache. "I can't. I need you."

He ran his hand down your spine and rubbed soothing circles over your hips. "Use your words, sweetheart. Sir can't give you what he doesn't know you want," he teased. The head of his cock rubbed between your thighs, catching your swollen clit and earning a soft moan. "Say it."

"Please let me cum on your cock, sir!"

As if that was all the permission he needed he sheathed himself into your needy core in one stroke. Spasming, you felt as if your joints would pull apart from the pleasure alone. He stilled inside you and gave you a moment to adjust, if only to revel in how tightly your velvet walls hugged around his girth. Satisfied, he gripped the back of your neck and rocked his hips into the plush muscles of your ass and thighs. You reached before you and dug your nails into the desk, moaning out like the only two adults left in the entire city were the two of you. Wanton and wanting you rocked back, earning a low groan in return. His hand wound around your hair and gave an experimental tug as he picked up the pace, the head of his cock curving into the soft sponge of your g-spot. White hot, pleasure surged through you from fingertips to toes and left you screaming his name as you came around him

"Yo! Fuck me, please don't stop. Yo, don't fucking stop!"

He grinned above you and pulled your back tight against him, spine arched beautifully by the hair you continued to whine and beg as he rutted his hips against you. "That's it, sweetheart. Let loose a little. Sir's got you. That's it. Cum on Sir’s cock again."

His words enough could have been enough to be your undoing, but it wouldn't be Grand if he didn't bring that little extra something to the scene. He sheathed fully, angling up and pulling hard on your hair to kiss his head to your tender cervix. Stars flooded your vision, and your legs threatened to give if it weren't for the strong hold he had on your hair and the solid desk beneath you. He didn't budge from your tight, fleshy ring. As he held you, he closed his eyes and focused his quirk into that spot he just knew few before him had touched. Deep, rumbling vibrations threatened to rend your soul from your still breathing body as you convulsed and clenched rhythmically on his cock, milking him. Words were lost. The longer he fed on your spasming body, the sensations and sounds he could pull from your pliant, willing little holes, he felt himself get lost.

"Cum, I'm cumming again, Sir! Fuck, I can't fucking stop!!" With one last spasm, he let go of your hair and let your body slump over his desk as he took your ass in his hands. He spread your cheeks and watched as his cock disappeared into your tight pink sheath and sloppily gave a few more thrusts before digging back in and releasing with a low, gravely groan. Hot, thick ropes of white coated your abused hole as he continued his release. Your body trembled, cunt still clenching tightly around his softening member, and you whimpered softly into the desk. First emptiness set in, and then anxiety. Emotions crept back in where lust once sat, and all you could do was slowly piece together what just took place.

As if sensing your growing distress, Shindou scooped you into his arms and peppered your cheeks and nose with chaste kisses. His tenderness seemed out of place given how savagely he had used you moments ago. The leather couch was cool against your after-glowing skin. He left you briefly, retreating to his private restroom, and returned with a washcloth.

"You're okay, sweetheart. You did so good. Better than I ever expected." He crooned over you as he gently wiped the remnants of his spend from your leaking hole. "Looks like you passed. Congrats, we're hiring you on full-time, Friday," he grinned coyly. It took a moment for the gravity of his words to sink in and finally it hit at once. In your fucked-out haze, you barely registered what he meant. It was going to be a long rest of your career.

#shindou x reader #shindou smut #yo shindou #shindoumas #bnha smut #bnharem

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whirlybirdwhat · 4 years ago

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If conqueror's haki can indeed tame storms, as per your headcanon (I think I've seen you mention it somewhere? if not, my bad haha), imagine what Luffy and Nami could accomplish together. I've always thought Nami has the most potential when it comes to sea battles because with enough prep time, she can probably just create things like hurricanes, waterspouts, etc. With Luffy there to keep the rest of the crew safe, she could really go all out.

Hello anon!!!! I absolutely ADORE this headcanon, however, I can’t quite recall if i mentioned it somewhere? You may be thinking of the amazing @grainjew ‘s headcanon which can be found HERE and some other conqueror’s haki headcanon’s HERE as well! Though, to be fair, I may have mentioned the hc once or twice because holy shit is it a headcanon that I adore. go read zeph’s writing everyone!!! it’s fucking amazing <333! ANYWAY!!! I DID WRITE FOR THIS!!! BECAUSE IT SLAPS!!!! thank you for the prompt anon!!!!

the eye of a hurricane

read on ao3!

The Grand Line takes the souls of men just as easily as it takes the ships they sail on.

It takes, and takes, and takes, in vicious islands and colossal swells, but what every sailor who calls the first half Paradise and the second half New World knows to fear –

Is the storms.

The rage, a moment calm, and another violent. Shifting and swelling, unpredictable and dangerous. Those with old wounds ache in every moment from the changing pressure as the sky flashes with bolts of energy that look like dragon fire. There is no eye of the hurricane in Grand Line storms. There is no sanctuary when men dare to challenge the sailor’s graveyard.

There is no peace, as rain becomes icicles and then acid, and lightning rains down as droplets, as the sea freezes over and then becomes magma.

Unpredictable.

Wild.

The open sea.

Those without a navigator die – and those without good navigators are lucky if they don’t as well.

Nami is a good navigator. She keeps her crew alive and safe.

But she is more than good.

She’s best.

She knows the waves, the air, the flashes of temperature and lightning in the air, just as she knows the way the Log Pose turns and the stars align and the wind blows. She’s best, because she can do more than navigate.

The bounty posters call her Cat Burglar, because then the marines had only heard of how she stole a criminal in front of Justice’s wide-open eyes.

If they had seen her in a storm, they would have called her Tempest. The Thunderer. Weather Witch. Storm Thief. Hurricane.

Navigator.

Nami loves gold, but she has always been born to the winds.

She can do more than navigate.

She can control the storm.

That is why, in this sea battle, deadly as all sea battles are, she is the trump card.

The opposing crew thinks they have a victory in their hands, their canons with clear shots edging just out of the jumping distance between ships. Three galleons against one crew. But Nami knows better.

The Straw Hat Pirates know better.

“Luffy,” She says, voice even. “Allow me.” Her grip on her climatact is loose, but that’s just a sign of how skilled she is, how steady she is even on the rocking ship.

Her captain laughs, a storm in motion, and that’s all the permission Nami needs.

She steps forward, her grip shifting, climatact swirling. Cold and heat sweeps out as one as her crewmates block cannonballs in midair.

The sky darkens.

The sea churns.

The opposing pirates start panicking.

But Nami isn’t done.

A flick of her thumb and the wind starts howling. Her hair is blown back, orange flashing like fire, and soon, the rain starts to fall.

In sheets, crashing against the waves, swells rising and falling, the water beneath them feeling like it has split apart. Nami is steady on the deck, one with the storm even if no one else is, not screaming, or yelling, unlike her opponents.

Her targets.

They have three galleons. Bigger than the Sunny, with bigger guns that can shoot farther distances. Supposedly, they are all made of Adam’s Wood.

They stand no chance.

“Captain,” She says again, a warning, and Luffy stands tall on the deck, ready, his presence at bay.

Nami smirks, then raises her staff. “Thunderbolt Tempo,” She says, the calm before a storm, “Hurricane STRIKE!”

And the world erupts in storm.

Waves rise and thunder crashes, lightning raining down on every ship in the vicinity. The air crackles and her hair rises with the energy. The pale faces of terrified men are illuminated in the flashing strikes as fires start on the crows nests of all the ships. Screams ring out, meshing with the thunder in a vicious howl. Nami’s face is wet merely from the storm, but her enemies cry as their ships rock dangerously

But -

Not Sunny.

A moment passes after Nami calls out her attack, and it is Luffy who steps forward.

Luffy, who does not command the storm, does not control the storm, but is the storm.

Luffy, who is her captain.

Luffy, who pulls his hat down o his head, till only one eye gleams, and conquers the sea that hates him.

The eye of the storm appears.

(It’s Luffy.)

(It’s more than human.)

The Thousand Sunny, ship of a thousand sunrises, settles in calm waters. Rain pitters to a mere drizzle as Luffy’s Will wraps around the ship, the sea, the storm, like a flood swallowing it whole in gentleness. The calm of a tempest. The consuming rage of the sea. Luffy.

To be a conqueror is to extend your soul, your will, your dream over others. To tell the world I am Here, and you are beneath me and you are mine. To Nami, Luffy’s will has always been conviction, the freeing of natural tethers, Luffy saying you are free and setting souls loose from their innermost cages, so all they want to do is bow.

To the storm, Luffy is a Conquering King. To Luffy, the storm bows.

(A D. is a storm, and so a storm Luffy is. Nami has never feared the storm, and as her captain smiles, she will never fear Luffy.)

Nami smirks, and ships start sinking. Golden treasures floating to the surface, urged by the waves. Jimbe, hopefully, will get whatever is left.

For now, she stands in the eye her captain created of her storm, and revels in the devastation.

Any sailor knows to fear the storm.

But any good navigator – any good pirate – knows to be the storm.

Nami twirls her climatact, and reigns her own personal hurricane.

#whirlywhat #whirlywrites #op #one piece #opfic #nami #monkey d. luffy #luffy #conqueror's haki #me showing this to zeph and the consequenntial THATS YOUR HC that followed fghjkgjyftd #whirlyanswers #anonymous

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courtorderedcake · 5 years ago

Text

Hallow : ch xix - CSSNS 2019

“The Goblin King was prepared to host the Darkness, stealing Fae women away to their corrupted lands underneath the ground as concubines. The Darkness chose another in his stead, but not before this selected vessel enacted a devastating attack in its vengeance, revealing its hatred & rage. The battle was a lesson the old kings had forgotten; never underestimate an opponent.

Many more lives were lost as they razed over any who dared defy The Goblin King’s will. Only the pure love of our rulers united in matrimony, breaking the Vorpal Dagger, sealed the darkness and the Goblin menace away. The light flourished under their fair rule, and the queen bore a child as pure as moon beams, swan feathers, and starlight. They lived happily ever after, and shall be written in history as Heroes for All Time.”

This is the history Princess Emma memorizes from the day she is born, paraded about and presented only with the highest protection. The palace is a cage she wishes to escape, desperately. Not careful what wishes she made, Emma discovers history is written by the victors - The Dark One has an entirely different version of the events that took place.

Read on AO3 here.

Rated E for explicit themes, Mature situations, and Fae fuckery.

Written for @cssns

Ch 19 / ?? - In which Emma makes her choice

Emma was seated to the right of Jasmine again when they began to dine, Killian seated to the Sultana's left. If Emma didn't currently feel a sense of absolute frustration beyond anything she ever had felt for that man, she would have wished him closer for the way the four men sat across from them leered at her. Raja patted her hand in a comforting gesture from his seat next to her own, his paws giant over her sweaty palms. His deep, soulful eyes read hers with sympathy as the dinner began.

"So, Princess Emma, is it?" Jafar smiled widely, stabbing at the vegetable tart served to them as their first course. "Regale us on how you acquired such an illness while eluding capture in your family's overthrow. It must be a fascinating tale."

He smirked at her, biting a piece of asparagus viciously as she tried to keep an easy-going grin plastered on her face. The way he drew out words as if she was some shallow and simple girl made her skin crawl.

"Oh, I'm not sure how I caught it really," Emma cut at the tart, making tinier and tinier morsels. "I only know that whatever it is, it's baffling the most talented team of healers I have ever seen."

"Well, it looks similar to an ink blot hex -" Hades began, but Emma shook her head, and he paused.

"I know. That's what they thought at first, because of Killian telling them about the black bruising." Glancing at Killian, she saw him stop pushing food around his own plate with a frown and stiffen. All eyes at the table rested on his tightening shoulders. "He didn't know, and I was unable to explain that the bruising is a good thing. I was gifted a soot sprite blessing by an ally. Killian…" Emma hesitated as she saw him stab at his food, but Jasmine patted her knee gently to push her forward. "Out of fear of poisoning, Killian disposed of medicine given to me by an ally to combat the illness before I could take it. He threw their herbal remedy into the sea. These soot sprites have been helping me, and are one of the only reasons I am here today. It was a mistake that cost me precious time; as they treated the charm, it weakened. I got worse. Now they are praying it continues to last."

"Oh, Princess, I'm so sorry. I'm sure the Dark One must have not done it maliciously," Arthur said, frowning. "It seems as if you both trust each other quite a bit -"

"We do -" Emma tried to interrupt, but Killian glowered at Arthur darkly.

"The Dark One is right here, and had no bloody idea about a soot charm, herbal remedies, or anything these 'allies' of yours gave you to possibly kill you; if the Dark One had known, he gladly would have mentioned it on behalf of the Princess." His words were clipped and seeping with animosity. Emma swallowed hard, and Arthur looked at her with worry, eyes darting back to look at Killian. Their plates were taken away as more wine was poured and various cheese, fruit, and bread was provided.

"Ah, a soot sprite charm. Interesting indeed that it's helping. That is effective for a very limited scope of illness," Hades nodded, rubbing at his chin. "Where did you find such an ally that could weave such inane magics?"

A chill ran down Emma's spine, Hades eyes piercing her with a fixated precision.

"Oh, we have been in the Mortal world. It's changed more than can be even explained," Killian shrugged, and Emma nodded in turn. Not a lie, but not an admission of where the Dragon and Kitsune base was, or that it still existed. Killian pressed on, a lazy, indulgent smirk settling on his features. "I'm sure you have not been recently?"

"No," Jafar sighed. "I've heard they have the most interesting machinations though."

"Their wars are what excite me, and luckily, you need not be there to experience it when you have recorded written histories," Hades smiled softly, propping his chin in his palm. "The beauty of the ever cycling world that is mortal pettiness."

"As if we Fae are much better," Ali mumbled. Emma looked at him, his dark eyes surveying the meat now sliding onto the table.

Arthur laughed, clapping a hand harshly on Ali's back. "Quite right, quite right - Always the altruistic idealistic ponce, this one."

Ali frowned deeper, picking at his meal.

By the time dessert began, conversation had become a sort of cyclical pettiness itself. Hades, Arthur, and Killian had begun a sort of verbal sparring over each other's intelligence as Jafar egged them on with a satin finesse, Ali pushed small bits of food around his plate while only looking up to gaze at Jasmine with a strange vehemence, and Jasmine herself gripped Emma's hand or thigh almost constantly as the men flirted or bragged incessantly trying to win favor.

Arthur seemed the most genuine in Emma's opinion, his heart broken by his would be queen, and seeking a tender hand to cradle it. He talked about his many feats of heroism, his philanthropic efforts, the hopes of his great kingdom, and how he would bridge a kingdom together with his own. Emma herself was surprised to find that he wasn't completely unattractive, and he seemed to treat her and Jasmine with a good bit of respect.

Jafar and Hades both seemed too dark and somehow deeply unsettling. There was something about them that made Emma feel as if they were predatory; a flash of tooth and spark on the eye that she could have placed in wolves. They both looked as if they were piecing together where the people around them were weak, waiting like snakes to strike. Hades seemed less confident than Jafar, warmer in a more personable fashion, but quicker to bouts of anger. Jafar gave Emma the creeps many more times over.

Ali was the wild card. Surprisingly, Killian had exchanged not a single barb with him when he had spoken. It was as if Ali did not exist to Killian, although Ali himself seemed to be half present; he flipped between wanting to be there and desperately wanting to escape. Emma could understand the emotion, although it had been over a year ago since she had last dealt with that specific unease in royal matters. Was his kingdom without social etiquette? Did being outside of the United Realms mean you did not follow any social constructs? But then, Jasmine, Jafar, Arthur, and Hades seemed to know most of the stiffer mannerisms and propriety.

It simply was bizarre how clearly Ali disliked the Sultana while he still fought for her hand.

When they rose to take an after dinner libation, Ali trailed behind. Holding back herself, Emma watched him approach a servant clearing their plates. They began to argue after Ali seemed to say something to shock the Palace staff.

"I don't care how much it costs. Do it. On my orders, and if anyone asks -"

"M'Lord, I m-mean you no d-disrespect, but your orders m-mean little here. You would need -" The servant stammered, and Ali sighed, taking off his turban to comb his fingers through his hair with exasperation.

"It was going to be thrown away, was it not?" Ali snapped at the man.

"Well yes, but -"

Ali took a step forward as the man cowered. "Then why -"

"Omar, what is happening here?" Emma asked, and Omar bowed low with a sputter. Ali looked irritated, his eyes narrowing.

"Princess, I am honored that you have remembered my name, but there is no need -"

"I asked for the leftovers not being reused to be given to the hungry people I am sure must live in this kingdom," Ali gritted out. "It seems, however, that is too difficult - "

"It's m-much t-too good to waste on them," Omar stammered again, and Ali's eyes lit with a dark rage. He gripped Omar by the vest, and Emma squeaked out a warning.

"Stop! Stop please!" Ali lowered the trembling man, who breathed a sigh of relief just as Jasmine turned the corner. Emma nodded at her, Ali still gripping Omar's vest as his fingers loosened.

"Just what is going on?" Jasmine chided, her hands on her hips.

"Ali wanted this food to be given to the poor living in your kingdom, Sultana. Omar was stating that it could not be done, and that it was too good for 'them', whoever 'them' is. I would hope no kingdom as opulent as Agrabah would have hungry people on the streets, but…" Emma trailed off, watching Ali step back with a look of surprise.

Jasmine raised a cocky eyebrow. "If we do, I certainly have never seen them."

"Maybe you aren't looking hard enough then," Ali challenged, Jasmine's jaw dropping.

"How dare you!" Jasmine hissed, but Ali only shook his head with a condescending smirk. "I look after this entire kingdom -"

"You look over things alright, Sultana. You look over the things you don't see, because your guards remove them from your view. Although, since you spend the majority of your time here in your gilded towers, it isn't surprising that you have no idea how many go hungry," Ali sneered at Jasmine. She scoffed, looking at him with rage.

"How would you even know? How dare you, how dare you -"

"Take this food down to the streets then. Tonight. No guard clean up beforehand, just them protecting you while you serve hot meals. Let's go. Right now," Ali challenged, Emma's eyes going wide.

"I - We - That's a logistics nightmare -" Jasmine said weakly.

"If the food will be thrown away regardless, Jasmine," Emma smiled, batting her eyelashes. "I've not gotten a chance to see the market -"

"Oh, not you too!" Jasmine groaned.

"I mean, the worst thing that could happen is some food allotted for waste gets a few more hours of potential use. Please, Jasmine?" Emma watched as Jasmine fought herself internally before sighing. Whistling with two fingers, Raja appeared a moment later.

"Sultana?" the Anisapi asked, eyeing Ali suspiciously.

"I want this food brought down to the plaza square, and my seated box brought before it. I am about to prove this," She pointed at Ali, glaring as her chin rose in defiance, “Fool that he has no right to disrespect me when in the grace of my hospitality.”

“Fine, then, Sultana,” Ali challenged. Omar scurried off, and Jasmine turned in a huff to walk away. Before she could get very far, Ali called after her. “But what if I am right?

Jasmine whirled around, stomping back to him to poke a finger into his chest. “You aren’t.”

Ali grinned cockily, and Jasmine fumed. “Willing to wager?” he asked in a silky tone. “I bet you an evening with me that you, Sultana, the Seer of the Sands, are wrong.” Jasmine opened her mouth to say something, but Ali raised a hand. “And no peeking into the future to cheat, Sultana. No. I wager you are very wrong. I wager you have looked at your life, at Kings, Queens, and Royal fuck all, but never the poorest you rule over.”

Jasmine sputtered, and Emma watched helplessly as the viewing box was brought to them. As she stepped inside to escape the awkward tension rippling off the two, she heard Jasmine’s clear reply.

“And when you are wrong, Ali of Ab’Dua, you will leave my kingdom to never return.”

The viewing carriage, or 'palanquin', for the Sultana was lined in velvet, Ali seated next to Emma so Jasmine could stare him down from her seat as they approached the public square. Emma tried to focus on the sweet and spicy scents that drifted in through the small windows, or the colorful stalls that they passed as Jasmine and Ali bickered. It seemed everything they spoke about had them opposed to the other, from the size of Jasmine’s guard to their personal preferences on fruit.

“Figs are pretentious, even to eat,” Ali sneered, as Jasmine raised an eyebrow with a smirk.

“You would know all about pretentious, as a spoiled, privileged, man-child -”

“Projection does not suit you, Sultana,” he replied coolly. Emma could practically feel the flame of Jasmine’s wrath, the heat of it as hot as the outside temperature.

They arrived in the square in a silence that was thick with animosity, people scrambling to the shadows as if they were being chased away. Food was set forth as trumpets blared, an announcer stepping forward at the front. “The Sultana gifts you with this humble bounty, citizens of Agrabah. If you have not been fed, if you are hungry, step forward.”

The square stayed silent, the bustle of the market dying within minutes.

“See?” Jasmine pressed, smiling slightly. Emma looked down at her feet, a strange feeling in her gut.

Ali chuckled with a roll of his eyes. “I see alright. Your populace is terrified of you.” He stretched, cracking his shoulders and knuckles, then opened the door to the viewing box. The guards startled, but he gave a wave while he removed his fine clothes, leaving only a vest and trousers.

“Ali, what -” Emma hissed, gesturing for him to return. He shook his head and offered his hand to her. “No! I can’t, people shouldn’t know I’m - “

At her protests, he rolled his eyes again, looking around. Spotting what he apparently needed, she saw him turn a corner. After a few moments he returned with a visibly shaken man who held several bejeweled veils.

“Which one do you think suits this lady, good man?” Ali asked the man, who fumbled slightly.

“The emerald, sir,” the man whispered. His forehead has begun to bead with sweat, and Emma felt intensely bad for him.

“It’s beautiful. I’d be honored to wear such craftsmanship.” Emma smiled softly, taking it from his fingers. He flinched, but when her fingers gently took the material from his hands he relaxed. Ali placed several gold coins into his hands to pay, and the man’s eyes practically bulged out of his head.

“I - This is too much -” he stammered, but Ali shook his head.

“If you are hungry, if you have family that are hungry, or if you know anyone who is hungry: Please have them come forward. There is no ill will here. You are safe to do so.” Ali clapped a hand on the man’s shoulder, looking him straight in the eye. “If you are hungry, eat.”

The man glanced over Ali’s shoulder, looking at Emma and Jasmine. Jasmine sat frozen, staring straight at him. Turning on his heel, he pulled away from Ali and walked straight around the corner. Ali sighed, looking defeated.

“Well, Princess,” Ali said sadly. “I hope you like your veil, and I wish you well. It’s a pretty parting gift seeing as I will soon be banished.”

Emma ran the silky fabric through her fingers, unable to look at Ali. She nodded, swallowing hard. It shouldn’t have made her feel so sad when he looked at her like that, but she knew without the blessing of the Sphinx he was right. He believed what he was saying with absolute certainty; Somehow he knew that there were hungry on the streets here. This was personal to him on some level.

Carefully slipping on the veil, she stepped out of the box even as Jasmine protested. “I wanted to see the market, though. This may be my last chance.”

“Well, then we shall have to see the market.” Ali smiled, offering his arm.

The market was beautiful, spices and shimmering draped fabrics displayed with care as callers barked out prices or pushed their goods in front of her face. Fish was plentiful, as were jewels, leather, and soaps, fragrances shifting constantly in the warm winds.

They wandered through the stalls for an hour or so before Jasmine joined them, wearing a hooded brown muslin dress. Ali appraised her with a grin.

"You rough up nicely, Sultana. You could be a street mouse any day -"

"Don't you mean a street rat?" Jasmine snapped.

"Oh no, you are far too soft and naive for that." He grinned, while her lips pressed into a thin line. "And street rats aren't generally as pretty as you are."

Jasmine blushed, Ali saying the last bit with a strange absent-minded surety. Emma smiled, falling back as the two began to bicker over fig prices, the merchant looking on with amusement. She stopped to rest occasionally, watching them prod at each other. It reminded her of not that long ago when Killian had teased instead of running from her.

" You don't want Ingrid to worry. That's so sweet." Emma teased, and he couldn't manage a scowl, only a slightly irritated upturn of his lips. "See, I'm right! Don't deny it -"

"We barely survived the wrath of a Sphinx, and a Satyr. They say third time's the charm, and it would give Ingrid the utmost satisfaction to be a means to my end." A twinkle of mischief lit his eyes and Emma laughed out loud before she could help herself.

"She did say she needs a new throw rug." Emma giggled into a coffee mug with a sideways glance. "We could take turns beating you."

When they made their way back to the viewing box, they encountered a long line of shabbily dressed women and children, a few men here and there. Ali quirked an eyebrow, ushering them to follow him through an alley, leading them around the people waiting for whatever it was. Turning a tight corner, they came out into the public square behind a fountain.

Jasmine's mouth dropped in shock as she saw the square full of people, some clearly in need of a healer and others skeletal. A pair of children in patchwork rags shared a loaf of bread between each other, both looking as if the wind could blow through their skinny bodies.

"Ali -" Jasmine tried, her voice thick as she swallowed. "I -"

"Sultana, I wish I had been wrong. Please know that now, before our wager ends," Ali said quietly, approaching her to put a hand on her shoulder. "With that said, I will see you tonight at sun down." He gave her a peck on the cheek, bowed slightly to both Emma and Jasmine, then disappeared into the crowd.

Jasmine looked stunned as they climbed into the viewing box, guards appearing to take them back to the palace as quietly as possible. Emma watched the Sultana stare out the window, half smiling, knowing that she was planning on making changes to benefit her kingdom.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

To say Killian found the Sultana's suitors annoying and disgusting would be an understatement. The time with them was torture, an exceedingly cruel and excruciating exercise in hatred. For one, both Jafar and Hades seemed eerily interested in his workings, bombarding him with unsubtle questions as if he was on display. They asked how the Darkness inside him worked, how its presence in his day to day life was made known, if he remembered his misdeeds, and if he felt remorse as if he would answer these questions in casual conversation. Instead he offered monosyllables, eye rolls, or simply ignored the question as if he was a petulant child.

It suits you, you are a petulant fool of a boy.

Then there was the fact that they were all pompous in varying degrees that were still largely high, with astounding vain and narcissistic streaks longer than the worst nobles Killian had met. All three referred to Jasmine as an object once alone in his company, as if they were speaking about the serving tray their liquor was served off of, Arthur only adding Emma in as an afterthought. Jafar treated anyone around him except the other two men with a callous disregard for their intelligence, and an outright malicious streak to boot. Hades was not only malicious, but talked openly about his hatred for women and multiple types of Fae he considered beneath him. Arthur should have been a Saint next to them, but his rapport with the two struck Killian as not to be mistaken for coincidence. If it wasn't forced, there was something to be said about what lurked below his composure.

Topping everything was knowing that the so called 'Ali' was really the thief Aladdin, without knowing any of his intentions. What if they were in danger? Killian had suffered through this meal and now this after dinner dessert and drinks, while Emma had disappeared into the aether with no regard to anything. Again. What if she was a target? Or the Sultana, which could easily result in a wartime coup. He needed to get away from this group as soon as possible to regroup with Emma.

The Darkness reveled in the chaos as Killian chewed his tongue, trying not to explode.

"Yes. Do anything for that sweet princess of yours would you?"

It's too bad you are responsible for killing her. Do you ever tire of making the wrong choices? Imagine doing everything in an effort to keep your little secret love safe, only to destroy her every step of the way. It's insidious, and I don't even have to help!

"Dark One!"

Killian looked up to see the three suitors looking at him expectantly.

"I asked if your Princess told you where she, Ali, and the Sultana were headed!" Hades snapped, his voice cold. "You are the Princess’s lackey, are you not? Answer when I speak to you."

Killian grunted with a shake of his head.

"It's as if you don't want a cure for…" Jafar purred, rubbing his beard and curling its ends around his long fingers. "What was her name again? Anya? Emma?"

Killian’s eyes flicked over to stare at the grinning man, who leaned over, balancing on his staff.

Jafar shrugged, both arms coming to rest on the curved golden head of the cobra as he continued to stroke his beard. "I'd hate for anyone to find out that the Dark One not only sabotaged an alliance that tried to cure your Emma before landing in Agrabah, but during their stay as well. Can you imagine?"

The Darkness cackled in his head as he seethed behind an impassive stare.

Your Emma. If only they knew that she could never be yours without you obliterating her.

"Honestly though Dark Thing, where did Emma and Jasmine get off to?" Arthur asked in a bored drawl. "Ali has one, someone should have a fair shot at the other; tis only fair."

"Ask a servant. I don't know, they were here, went to the kitchens, and then were gone with half of the guard. I assume they went to the market for whatever reasons," Killian bit out. "If you're so bloody inclined to see where they got off to, why don't you head there yourselves?"

"Among the peasant scum?" Arthur asked as his face wrinkled with disgust. "Absolutely not. If I wanted to smell of camel dung, there are easier ways."

"Right, well. Then I'll excuse myself." Killian stood, giving a nod.

"Yes, go fetch the Sultana and Princess, this behavior is silly. I can't do tests for this mysterious illness on a corpse. I mean, I could, but it doesn't seem preferential." Hades grinned icily and shooed Killian, the other men laughing. He left without complaint, heading down to the market with practiced ease. Taking a corner shortcut he'd discovered, he was surprised to hear Aladdin's voice. The man was arguing tersely with another as Killian stopped to listen.

"I risked everything getting into the palace for you, and I got caught. They know to be on high alert, and if you think -"

"Relax, Abu. She can't see us, we've cloaked the future from her."

"As if that isn't suspicious -"

"It's not. She won't be able to tell. Djinn magic is the only thing that can take on Djinn magic. We have Djinn magic that I stole." Aladdin let a sly chuckle. "This job will be easy."

"It's not easy, and I'm not going to help you. Not when you're working with -"

"Abu!" Aladdin hissed, and the Anisapi gave a series of scratchy chirps.

"I'm out. I'm out, and I'm not risking it. I like the Sultana. I think today should prove she can change. What you want and what they want aren't the same," Abu said sadly, leaving in a scamper as Aladdin called after him. The Anisapi turned the corner around Killian without notice as Aladdin trotted behind.

"Tough break there, uncommon thief," Killian drawled, pushing off from his lean against the wall. "Maybe betraying the Sultana and the Princess is not such a grand plan after all. Why are you here? You know you will be caught soon enough."

Aladdin laughed, clapping his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. "Not unless you say something. Which you won't."

"Oh? That's presumptuous of you."

"Yeah." Aladdin smirked, standing straight as his eyes glinted. "I know you are the reason that Emma is sick. You caused her illness."

"That's impossible. How could you possibly -"

"The Princess talks. She talked to me in particular, desperate for someone after losing her best friend, who I assume is some type of elemental, and another close friend: namely, you." Aladdin smirked as Killian's jaw began to work. "It's very clear with a little bit of her sad back story of how you ended up in Agrabah. You were both close before you underwent some rite together, that no one can supposedly remember, then afterwards you avoid her and push a wedge between yourself and her. The question is, are you trying to kill her? Is that why you threw her medicine away and keep blocking her from getting better?"

"Of course I'm not trying to prevent her recovery, I never meant to hurt her!"

Aladdin grinned, as Killian realized his admission. "So you did cause it."

"You - You great bloody -"

"Ah ah, Dark One. Unless you want your princess to know everything, I suggest you listen to everything I'm about to say. She trusts me now, more so than you; and I can safely say now with certainty, you have feelings for her. Keep your mouth shut and I won't tell a single soul about what you did during the rite. Deal?"

"I have no feelings for her, and you have no proof - "

Aladdin laughed again, examining his fingernails. "Neither do you. Shall I lay out your malfeasance, and hope for the best against my own?"

"You -"

"Deal?" Aladdin offered again, a sharpened edge to his voice.

"Deal," Killian grumbled, watching Aladdin turn away, his strides confident. They walked back to the palace in silence. Just past the gates they met the Sultana and Emma as they stepped from their boxed palanquin, Killian falling back as Aladdin moved towards Jasmine and Emma. Aladdin kissed Emma's cheek to her delight, earning a giggle as Killian felt a hot and unpleasant bitterness fill his body.

Arthur stepped from behind a hedge, a rose in his fingers that he presented to Emma with a bow. Aladdin frowned as Arthur pulled Emma into the gardens, something unspoken passing between him and Arthur before they separated.

Unease began to prick at the back of Killian's neck.

Emma sat at the fountain side, her hair in a braid similar to what the Sultana seemed to favor, Arthur sitting next to her as they watched fish swimming. She looked relaxed, splashing her feet and laughing as Arthur animatedly told her something with large hand movements. Resigning himself to wait until the two separated to try to speak to Emma and at least get ahead of Aladdin or anything he could do, he returned to his chambers.

He heard Emma return hours later as he studied Agrabah's constellations and their strange alignments, the sun long since disappeared from the pocket realm's sky. When he approached to speak with her, she was already in conversation with the Goblin from before, Iago.

"What if it is him, Iago? These dreams have to mean something. I thought it was someone else, I thought it was… I thought it might be," Emma hesitated and he heard her sigh. "The man had different eyes than Arthur. They weren't - Arthur's eyes are green, with hazel gold. But everything else, the rough hands, the rings, the soft accent when whispering sweet nothings, the dark hair and bit of scruffy beard starting… Iago, what if Arthur is the one who keeps invading my dreams? The person I thought it was… it couldn't be him. He isn't kind, he is selfish and hurtful, and just… infuriating"

"You said that the man in your dreams makes you feel safe and loved?" Iago asked. There was a sound of something rattling, then a light clatter.

"More than that, I loved him back. It feels as though I'm so close every time I wake up. I just desperately want him to be there instead of leaving me alone again. In the last one, he was… He kissed me. We kissed each other. I think - he saved me from something, but I don't know. Everything is so jumbled."

"The runes say that he knows your feelings, but is frightened. They say your dreams are leading you to love, and that he wishes to be with you as much as you wish the same. But… "

"But what, Iago? Why are you frowning, what do you see?"

"There's many obstacles for both of you. There's darkness in this man's past… And in his future. Be careful with your heart, Princess. Be careful who you trust it with."

"Thank you, Iago."

"My pleasure, and honor."

Killian swallowed thickly. His time was running out, she was remembering him more and more, Arthur a replacement in his stead. It broke him as the Darkness hissed, squirming to constrict his lungs. It paralyzed him as it drilled deep through his sorrow, then as if it was a corroding acid, began to burn away all of his once secreted feelings.

When he was able to turn the corner by Emma's room at last, the Darkness crowed in its triumph, all love for her eradicated finally and for all time.

Somewhere deep, deeper than the Darkness had ever dared to look, something within Killian burned .

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The smell of flowers and soft breeze playing with her hair does little to lessen the heat of him holding her.

"Is this a dream?" Emma murmured, pulling away slightly. "It has to be, because you, it can't be you. You're not here. You would never treat me like this, I would never forget if you did."

"Love," His arms wrapped around her tighter, his dark hair tickling her cheek. A calloused hand gently caressed the back of her head. "I will remember for you, and keep you safe. It's better that way."

"Please, I know it isn't you." Heat was pouring from him, his arms too tight but still somehow so comforting. Emma could feel flame licking her as she pushed him away. "You're not like this. This isn't you."

He took a step back, and the sadness in the blue of his eyes froze her. She shivered, missing his warmth against herself. Her chest ached, and the air had become thin as cold seeped into her bones. "Emma. I'm so sorry."

"Stop it. Just -" It couldn't be him. It wasn't, it couldn't be him. Not him, not those eyes that screamed secrets at her; not the way he looked at her now with such anger and hatred. It wasn't him.

His shadow seemed to grow as he turned away. Emma reached for him, unable to control her need for warmth as it began to snow over the bright flowers in the garden. "It's better for you to forget."

"No, please don't leave me!" The wind whipped around her, snow hitting her face like freezing needles. It blanketed the world around her, absolving it of color and sounds outside her teeth chattering. Her breath puffed in the air as she yelled his name -

"Killian!" Emma sat up, panting under the plush blankets as she shook. A coughing spell hit her with force, and she rolled onto the floor from confusion, unbalanced from the sudden awakening. The floor was cold under her skin, sweat trapping her in the sheets. An attendant quickly ran in to help her up.

"Oh, Princess! I heard you call out, what - oh you are burning up, let me -" Emma heard the Elven woman sigh as doctors and a few more attendants swarmed the room. She took a stumbled step forward, caught as more gasps sounded and her own breath would not come.

In the dark of unconsciousness, it was uncomfortable and painful, eyes fluttering open on occasion to see bright light shone into her pupils or concerned faces poking her with this or that. The Sultana made appearances, as did Ali among the other suitors, but him more than most. Killian only appeared behind her eyelids as she tried to escape the strange dreams that featured him front and center. Her brain and heart were just as sick as her lungs for him to be appearing with such emotion.

In the quiet she listened, straining to hear any sounds that could be him, only conjuring more hazy images of the imposter that haunted her dreams. His laughter and the thrilling feel of his lips against her own were so much more than she had ever hoped for. When she heard the soft hum of a man's appreciation, her hopes grew high until Jasmine's whispers identified who had made it.

"I'm scared for her, Ali. She's been a good friend, and I - what if you don't find a cure? What if no one does, or if Hades or Arthur -"

"Jasmine, it will be alright," Ali whispered in reply. "You have been a great friend to her too. We'll figure something out. With Jafar gone, Hades is working overtime, and Arthur wants… He doesn't want to marry you. He has his heart set on Emma. We're working together to identify a cure."

"Thank you, Ali. I know I should not hope or show bias, but after our date… After everything , I feel very strongly that…"

There was a soft sigh, and Emma could hear the sound of their mouths moving together as she tried desperately to fall away into the blackness. Their date must have gone well, if they were this enthusiastic with her as an unwilling, unknown audience.

The idea of being kissed like that, or of comfort brought by someone in the name of love, pulled her back into dreaming. Temptation lay underneath her fingers tracing trails under a naval suit, or letting a firm hand linger on the small of her back while they swayed. Emma fell back into memories of waking up enveloped in warmth, the flutter of happiness that burst upward when she stirred and was immediately comforted by a gravelly voice. What has she done to ruin the way he smiled at her while they danced? Had it all been a dream?

When it faded next, a rough hand squeezed her own, the owner's voice accented and quiet. Her heart beat quicker in anticipation.

"Princess, your beauty is still undeniable, even now."

Emma coughed, turning her head with slight difficulty to see Arthur appraising her.

"You're awake! Oh, Princess, I'm so happy to see those beautiful eyes of yours."

Emma felt a strange disappointment, but smiled back softly. "Wha -" The words broke off into coughing that left her clawing at her throat.

"Water for the princess! Please!" Arthur shouted, sending attendants scurrying. "Emma, hold on my delicate flower. I've got you."

A servant brought water, Arthur snatching it from his hands to pour into her mouth. Emma pushed his hand away as she sputtered, spilling water over herself in the process. Taking a small sip eventually, she sighed, turning to look at him. He was frowning, wiping away water from his tunic with disgust.

"I'm -" Emma felt her lungs constrict and her throat burn even from the smallest bit of speech. Her attempted apology stuck like a shard of glass she could not swallow, sending her coughing again. When she looked at Arthur for help, she was surprised to see him looking at her with anger as if he was disgruntled. When she collapsed back against the bed again, it was if she had imagined it.

"Oh, you sweet rose petal. It's alright. I know you didn't mean to get water on my velvet. It's fine. Lay back, let me speak for you as a King would for his Queen." His face was soft, and he gently stroked her face with a cloth. Though he was a great relief as he spoke orders to the servants, doctors, and attendants, his words didn't comfort her; Something there unsettled her, his bright smile half heartedly returned as she pondered on why.

Maybe it was in the way he spoke over her, even in their moments alone together, or insisted that she should rest her voice so he could continue his lengthy monologues. There was also his treatment of the servants and her doctors, his orders given sharply as he ignored them otherwise. A realization hit her suddenly about her discomfort: Arthur reminded her of home.

He reminded her of the courtiers, the many nobles that her parents admonished or grumbled about for their treatment of people, and their attitudes in general. Her father had used his powers as King to block her suitors, but she had been flirted with by men like Arthur. She had not tolerated it then, but now it soothed her, and Arthur charmed her…

If she did accept his proposal, she could return to normalcy. She could love him as long as his veneer did not cover deeper problems than the banality of nobility. Coughing again, Emma pulled up the covers around herself.

"I've gotten myself some breakfast, and a grapefruit juice for you. I hope that you don't mind, I didn't know what you would like," Arthur said, accepting a plate of meat. He dug into it vigorously while Emma was given a tall glass with a straw. She eyed the liquid suspiciously. Grapefruit alone was a questionable breakfast, sour and entirely too much for a sore throat. Taking a sip, she gagged.

Arthur didn't notice right away, too engrossed in his ham, bacon, and sausages. When he did notice, he sighed and took away the full glass.

"What would you like then, little flower? Some yogurt? Pudding? Maybe a hot drink?" At the last suggestion, Emma nodded vigorously. Imagining silky hot chocolate or tea had her mouth watering. Jasmine had introduced her to a spicy mix of tea and something like cinnamon milk that had calmed her stomach but also made her feel invigorated. Trying to speak and failing with a squawk, Emma reached down to write down the drink for Arthur.

"A Kay Tea? Kye? Chay? I don't know these foreign foods, maybe a nice hot water with lemon -"

A servant interrupted, Arthur's eyes going steely. "Chai, a chai tea. It's popular here, and we also make a hot rice drink that is very good for -"

"Did I ask you to speak?" Arthur gritted out, Emma pulling on his sleeve to get his attention. The servant shook her head, stepping back. "You deserve better than these strange commoner's peasant fare. I'll get you some actual tea."

Emma shook her head, annoyed, but Arthur began to talk about his home and their varying teas. Emma's mind began to wander when he spoke about artisanal rose blends, thinking about a life in a strange kingdom. At least it was above ground, and had florals.

Tea was brought for them, and she took the tea cup carefully, examining the details. Taking a sip, she closed her eyes for a moment to savor the herbal taste. It wasn't what she wanted but it transported her home, to the marble floors and carved arches in the palace, the stone walkways and brightly lit rooms with their gilded mirrors. She could hear the rustle of skirts, clinking of spoons against small dessert plates, or the muted laughter of whatever nobility was presently sitting in front of her.

Arthur smiled broadly at her as she opened her eyes, taking her free hand in his. "I did so hope you would like this better. You deserve the best life a royal woman of your pedigree can get."

Emma sighed at his choice of words, but a smile hadn't left her face since the first taste of his gift to her. Curling her hand in his, she managed to clear her throat.

"I like it very much."

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Arthur left in the early afternoon, kissing her softly and leaving with another peck on the crown of her head. There was business to attend to, her cure to work on most prevalently. Emma had felt worse since her last nightmare, alarmingly feeling something move around her chest as if there was a sticky ball rattling within the cavity. The doctors were still perplexed, doing their best to keep the soot sprites alive as the true issue remained elusive. Emma needed a cure, badly. Every day, the time she had grew shorter.

Despite it all, she resolved to hide it the best she could. Not willing to spend her weeks in seclusion or in bed, she wanted to keep her kingdom safe and be with her friends. They would be the family she could not have. They would have to help her finish what parts of her journey they could.

Killian would get the shard, and Jasmine would take over the United Realms as a proxy ruler until a ruler was announced. Emma prayed whoever it was, her parents and the rest of her family would be spared for her failure. It was the best she could do in the worst case scenario that she was living. At least Killian would be free, and maybe even happily living his life. He could be with Ingrid and Anna, carefully seeking out where they could get a house somewhere with a bakery and a garden. Maybe he would laugh more eventually, or smile, even with the Darkness free to abuse him further. The thought of him baking some pastry with flour in his hair made Emma feel a bizarre mixture of happiness and deep sadness.

Ignoring it was enough for now. With what time she had left, she promised herself not to fixate on the mysteries that made up Killian.

"You shouldn't be here, darling," he whispers, holding her hand. They're both shivering, the water from the rain frigid and mostly ice. He tugs her forward as they climb, thunder pounding around them as lightning illuminates the woods. "Why did you come to my nightmare?"

"You can," Her hand slips on a slick stone, feet digging in the mud. She's still barefoot from before. He pulls and she is again next to him, lifting her onto a rocky ledge. "See me?"

"I always could. I couldn't do anything but watch, I can never do anything but watch it happen." Holding her while they both shiver, soaked through, he runs a hand through her hair to push the clinging strands away from her face. The wind is strong, making even her dress flap in its gusts. His arms feel safe, even as her bones vibrate the warning of impending doom. As if he knows, he holds her tighter. "I could see you. I could hear you, and I could feel your hand in mine or when you bandaged my side. I'm sorry you had to see this."

"Killian…" Emma whispered, his forehead meeting hers. "Killian, don't go. Please. Don't let it take you from me."

There's a great clap of thunder, shaking the ground and roaring like a great monster. Killian pulls from her, her hand still in his as he moves away.

"I'm sorry. It's better if you forget."

The Darkness is in its full glory before them, Killian looking at her with those eyes as it sucks him in. Clamoring for his hand but held by unseen forces and howling winds, Emma tries to bring him back to her, tries to hold on and not let go. Wind swirls around her, spinning until she's unable to breathe in its vacuum and let's go of his hand as she falls.

"Breathe! That's it! She's coming to!" Someone was speaking, and Emma took in a hiss of air that hurt to exhale. Shaking off dizziness, she stared directly into the worried eyes of a doctor, Jasmine, Prince Ali, and Abu.

"What happened?" Her mouth felt dry, but her voice was back to a rasping drawl.

Jasmine hugged her tightly, followed by Ali who easily wrapped his arms around both of them. He was wearing sleeves instead of just a vest, and Emma was about to tease them both for their matching formal dress, but stopped short. She held her tongue, examining the long, jagged, scars that ran up his arm. Confused, Emma tried to talk, but Jasmine put a finger to her mouth.

"Hush," Jasmine admonished. "You were walking with us in my apartments, then you collapsed. Are you alright? What happened?"

"Oh. I think I must have simply over exerted myself," Emma mumbled. Jasmine's eyes narrowed, and Emma shrugged sheepishly. "I'm still learning my limits, so I just needed a break I guess. I didn't have much of a breakfast with Arthur."

Ali pushed away, looking at her with concern. "You had breakfast with Arthur?"

Emma nodded. "In fact, I had come here to ask when his meeting with cure researchers would be over. I'm curious about their progression."

Ali scratched the back of his head, exchanging a glance with Jasmine.

"Why don't you come sit down in my quarters," Jasmine asked politely. Abu smirked, looking at Ali as they helped Emma inside with the Anisapi guarding the door.

Inside the chamber was a massive bed and vanity, with a sheer and dark set of curtains blocking a large balcony. Jasmine and Ali helped Emma onto the bed where she laid back against the heaping pillows.

"What's the bad news, then?" Emma whispered. Ali swallowed hard, and Jasmine looked at her with a sad smile.

"How do you know it's bad news?"

Laughing lightly at Jasmine's question, Emma cocked her head slightly. "When is it ever good news?"

"Jafar is gone. He - he was disqualified for an attempt at… He's just gone," Jasmine stated carefully. Ali looked angry for a moment before taking a deep breath.

"Where is the bad news in that?" Emma asked carefully.

"He took all the research, and ruined Hades and Arthur's. They were struggling to find a cure without this setback." Jasmine looked down. "We don't know -"

"I understand."

"Emma -"

"I don't need to hear it out loud. I don't need you to confirm what I'm already feeling. Tell me something else instead." Grinning, Emma pointed between Ali and Jasmine. "Like how your date was."

Jasmine blushed deeply, and Ali laughed with a smirk.

"It was very nice." Jasmine smiled, looking to Ali with clear affection.

"It must have been for you both to make out in the room of a sick person. It was an interesting wake up call." Emma giggled, Jasmine's eyes going wide as Ali burst into laughter. She blushed a bright red as he tickled her with the ends of her braid. "You two look happy. Not to rush things, but if you like him, fuck this entire suitor nonsense. Choose him."

"Emma!" Jasmine choked, laughing. Ali curled an arm around her and sat, nuzzling into her side. "It's - I want to know someone. We are doing just that, and I like this. Is that not what you are doing with Arthur?"

"I suppose," Emma said coyly. Ali stiffened slightly, and she leveled her gaze at him. "Maybe tell me about this date of yours, and why it was so very nice."

Jasmine wove the tale of a starlight ride by magic carpet across her kingdom, shared honeyed fruits and tarts with pistachios baked on top. Aladdin showed her beauty she had never seen before, his modesty shining through embarrassment while he blushed. He occasionally added in moments, both of them laughing at the inside jokes they shared.

Emma felt the same pang of sadness even through exhaustion, the same doubts that twisted into fear in her stomach. She could never imagine this with Arthur, and certainly not with Nil. The only one that had ever made her feel close to the warmth Jasmine and Aladdin gave off was…

His eyes were soft, and she wished that he could just remember more strongly than ever as thunder rumbled outside her tiny cottage.

"Stay here tonight. You… You told me once that you hate thunderstorms. I don't know if that has changed, if this you does or not, but…" Emma begged unabashedly, half asleep in his arms by the fire. "Please."

Even in her exhaustion, she reveled in his proximity. Looking down at her, he smiled sadly. “I'll stay, I always stay."

"Even if I don't remember you at all, please don't go," Emma whispered, and he nodded.

"I'll stay. I always stay." Killian whispered again, holding her closer. Emma was sure her heart was breaking, the truth in his statement clear as crystal. He believed it without question, but Emma had heard the same promise fall from his lips before. "I will stay."

Burying her face in his chest, she prayed this time it was not a lie.

Emma woke in her chambers, attached to various equipment by strange tubing, spells or wards hovering above her that rhythmically swayed. She blinked, confused, looking around to see Arthur by her bedside once more. He was engrossed in a book, his dark eyes scanning the pages.

"Anything… interesting?" she asked, with a cough catching her on the last syllable. He held up a finger and continued reading several moments longer, then closed his book.

"No, I'm afraid not. Mostly Naval tactics for bracing a coastal kingdom against raids." Arthur shrugged slightly. "Nothing I didn't already know, and certainly not reading that you would find interesting. You need to focus on getting better and not pushing yourself with such difficult topics."

He pressed a finger to her nose gently as if his quip diminishing her intelligence was amusing, then placed his book aside to get better seated next to her. Emma bit the inside of her cheek, irritation at his dismissal making her wish she could argue. Her lungs burned from the effort of a few words; the conversation that she wanted to have would be far more than that at best.

"I like… Strategic… Planning… I like… Battlefield… Tactics… They are -"

"Sure, sure, my rosebud," Arthur interrupted, patting her hand as if she was a child. "Now, I'd like to talk to you about something actually important, something that matters. Please pay me attention?"

Emma stared at him in frustration, giving him a grunt of acknowledgement.

"You fell asleep in the Sultana's chambers, so they brought you back here. You're pushing yourself too hard." He squeezed her hand, and Emma felt conflicted once again. Although annoying and pompous, Arthur was trying. He was attempting to be kind. "You need someone to help you, and to share your burden with. Especially now."

A spasm in her lower body sent her coughing, the intense fit making her back bow. She was sure that her ribs were close to breaking from the strain.

Arthur wiped her forehead dutifully. He sighed again as she looked up at him, tears streaming down her face.

"My sweet flower beauty, my dream, my Emma… Will you marry me?"

Emma's eyes shot open wide, her heart racing. She could not speak, pained gasps catching in her throat as she stared at the ring box in his hands, the giant sparkling diamond in its center surrounded by rubies. The immediate hatred of its gaudy settings almost eclipsed her need for air.

"Need… to think -" she tried, and Arthur nodded.

"I understand, but I have something you need to see before you say no. It's important." His smile faded.

Arthur began to talk, and Emma's heart sank.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Pacing the floor and practicing what he would say to Emma had become Killian's only way of handling her strange schedules of late. When he requested her, or simply strolled by her quarters as he often did due to their proximity, Arthur or Aladdin were not far off. Either that, or the princess had taken to small walks or napping which he could not blame her for in her condition. There had been minor commotions that he had heard the tail end of, but when he made sure that it was safe he only found servants, attendants, and perplexed doctors scrutinizing his presence.

"Hello, Princess," he began, still not over his anxiety at trying to broach his distrust of the suitors along with their timing. "I have something of urgency to discuss with you."

"I want nothing to do with you, and your mood swings. Poison another Princess, Dark One."

The Darkness sneered in a falsetto impression of Emma's voice, and he felt like a green lad again. His heart beat rapidly as he gritted his teeth and continued.

"Regarding the suitors and their timing -"

"Yes, fortunately they came so I could be relieved of your presence. Thank the Gods for it; Arthur is a wonderful catch."

"- I believe that it is due to a planned surveillance attempt, and that they are seeking out our weaknesses. I think they are planning something -"

"Planning a ball, or an event for me to be paraded at. I'll be a figurehead once more! I'll be better off with him and you will never have your freedom."

"To do you harm. I know that I have made many mistakes." Licking his lips, he swallowed hard. "But I would never let harm befall you if I could prevent it. Your well-being, your life being safe…"

Understatement, vessel. You are the harm she needs to prevent. Her well-being is worthless as long as you and her Goblin betrothed exist. Except that your fate is me and her fate is to die some broodmare.

"It's the only thing that makes it possible to ignore the Darkness," he whispered, and in turn the Darkness growled in a low rumble of fury. "Please consider what I've said."

He practiced repeatedly, until a knock came at his door. A voice called out behind the wood, one of the servants. "Ah, sir? Your presence is requested by Arthur in the library. Are you able to -"

Killian opened the door, brushing past the messenger as he walked straight to meet Arthur. It was a bold play on their part, but if he could talk to Emma first… He passed her room, noticing the lights dimmed within. Jasmine and Aladdin sat on a lounge, whispering to each other while an herbalist created a purple smoke that smelled of thick mint and blackberry. It poured over Emma, who behind the veil of her curtains did not move much more than a shuddered wheeze.

He couldn't risk it now; Emma would have to understand the delay in his confessions.

The walk was brisk, his haste to hold off the Darkness, any other visitors, and her illness setting him in double time.

The library doors pushed open, the deep purple walls within lit by a fire bowl resting in its center. Arthur sat lounging on an emerald and magenta couch smoking a hookah in large puffs, smiling broadly as he saw Killian.

"Well hello, Dark One. Nice of you to join me, care for -"

"What is it that you need, Arthur?" Killian growled. The room was filled with a light layer of smoke. "I have things I need to be -"

"I thought you and I might share a celebratory drink and smoke. I hadn't gotten a congratulations yet and it's probably untoward without her actual confirmation, but…" He took another long drag of the hookah's hose, puffing out a long tendril of smoke. "I digress."

Killian grunted, waving a hand in the air to clear his vision. "I have no idea what you're talking about mate, but I don't intend to celebrate with you. If you'll excuse me -"

"I proposed to her. To Princess Emma, I mean."

Whipping around, Killian took a step forward, staring at Arthur with wide eyes. "You what?"

"I proposed to her," Arthur repeated. "She's dying, Jafar is gone, Hades can't find a cure, Jasmine isn't interested in me, and Emma is. I'm not going to waste the opportunity to be considered a viable candidate to rule in her stead." He grinned, rubbing his beard in thought. "If I can get her to last through a marriage ceremony, that's all the better. If she can stay alive longer than that, I can claim loss of an heir by her untimely end. She knows it's in her best interest to accept."

"She won't. She'd never -"

"She would. A servant said she asks for a Goblin to dissect her dreams that I am in. It's just a matter of time." Arthur smirked, leaning back in the chair. "It's alright to be jealous, Dark One. For all your fearsome reputation, the fact that you haven't drank your fill of her is surprising. If I was in your stead, I'd have left her wrapped around my fingers both figuratively and literally!" he laughed, and Killian stood abruptly, storming away.

Arthur sprinted up behind him, still chuckling. "Come now, don't be angry, I was only joking. She's a fair maid if I've ever seen one. Even this illness can't dampen her beauty or how her body moves with so much…" He gestured with both hands, making two mirrored curving motions. Killian's teeth ground together, his muscles tensing. " Grace ."

"Arthur, mate, if you know what is good for you, you will -"

"Are you mad about her dying? Is that it? I thought the Darkness in you would rejoice at that, especially since the shard is in the care of the Sultana." Killian turned on his heel, the Darkness heavy as it pushed up from the binds he'd tried to place on it. Arthur followed, at his side hounding him with his mockery. Covering his mouth with his hand, he mimed a face of false confusion and shock. "Oops. I guess you didn't know? And here I thought you and her were close."

"I will tear you apart mate," Killian snarled. "I will rend you limb from bloody limb -"

"So that's it then. She's your weak spot, the Darkness isn't at rest. I had guessed it was on a thin leash chomping at the bit, but no. It's right under the surface if you know where to dig." Arthur's smile was wide now, his eyes dark. "How very, very interesting."

Hades appeared from the gloom, becoming corporeal from a column of dense, black smoke. "Can we drop the charade then? I'm frankly ready for this to be over."

"I'd rather wait for Emma's answer to my proposal, as now that the Darkness is awake I believe it will be a long while until our cover is blown. The shard awaits you, Dark One." Killian felt himself slipping further with each second, the undertow pulling him down while raising the Darkness from where it had laid in wait. It had control now, its prior mutterings nothing compared to its screeching at him as Arthur smiled. "You simply have to take the matters into your own hands."

"My… Own… Hands…" Killian heard it speak through him, his panic rising as he lost control. "The shard. The shard ."

"Go. Get what was taken from you," Hades added before disappearing.

"It lies in the treasure vault near the Sultana's apartment. Get what is yours, Dark One. Get what is yours and return to glory." Arthur gave a small bow, and Killian felt the Darkness pull him away, moving him against his will through the palace.

"No! This isn't right -" he gritted, and held on firmly to a carved column. A servant stared at him as he passed, hurrying away much quicker when a fresh snarl rose in his throat.

Get the SHARD.

Get the shard and be done with this!

"No, I - I can't -"

How dare you deny me? I am your master, I am you!

"I won't. I have to protect her, I have to warn her!" He tried to move his foot, but lurched forward instead. In an instant, he was before the treasury Arthur had mentioned, the magic on him fizzing from the internal power struggle. The door locks were enchanted, but the Darkness controlled his left side, his arm lurching forward to touch the lock. It clicked open within seconds of dark magic drenching it in full force.

"No! Stop!" His right hand caught the door frame and held tight, the left side of his body pulling him forward as the right held back. He groaned in pain as the Darkness attempted to tear him in twain. "I will not let you, I won't!"

He violently slammed to the ground, his left hand pulling him forward as his nails dug into the marble tiling. Several guards approached in concern but the black magic of the Darkness spun around him like a cobweb, dropping him in front of the pedestal that held the shard. He heard shouts of confusion from a small distance as his left hand made a flicking motion, barring the door with a screech of the locking mechanism.

MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE AT LAST YES IT IS MINE -

Killian wrestled with himself as his left hand desperately tried to close around the chain, throwing himself back with effort. He pushed back at the Darkness desperate to get it under control as it broke him, bent him, and refused his hold.

Realizing with keen certainty there was only one way out of this, he took a deep breath, then let go of control. The Darkness grabbed a hold of the chain, shrieking its triumph, and Killian used its momentary lapse to move them.

As he appeared in Emma's chambers and stretched to throw it at her, the Darkness became aware at the same moment as him that something was wrong, his body frozen with his arm stuck mid-throw.

His eyes widened further to look at the grim faces surrounding him, all but a grinning Arthur wearing varying states of disgust.

"Emma, bloody hell, I -"

"As you can see, we caught him using Kraken ink. It temporarily causes paralysis, even on the most powerful of dark magic." Arthur sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose dramatically. "He went for the fake shard without a moment's hesitation, and then I believe his return to your quarters, Princess, was with the intention of taking your life."

"No! No, I swear it, Emma. I swear I realized that I was out of control, and I was scared for you. I came to return it. If it's left where I can find it, the Darkness will never stop. You must hide it again -"

"A likely excuse now that he's caught!" Hades pointed out.

Turning his eyes towards Emma, he realized just how long it had been since he had seen her. She was a gaunt caricature of what she had been with hollowed cheeks, the skin beneath her eyes darkened to the color of bruises. Her hair stuck to her face in stringy strands as her chest struggled to rise, and she breathed using a strange line of tubing in her nose with obvious effort. Her eyes were still bright jade, staring through him as they grew glassy and she tore them away from his own.

"Emma, please..." His fingers twitched at the attempt to reach for her, his arms stuck by the ink’s magic.

Emma shook her head, unable to look at him.

"I am begging you Emma. Aladdin - Ali - is a thief and working with these two; I don't know why. I don't know what they're after, but they aren't working on a cure. Don't listen to a word -"

"Princess, I'm so sorry for this. I didn't want you to have to know the truth when I thought the Dark One and you were so close," Hades began. "There is no cure I can find, because… Well, because Ali discovered from the Dark One's own admission, he caused this illness in you."

"That's - Emma please listen to me, I never - I wouldn't." Killian felt his other arm twitch upwards, Emma's eyes downcast. "Please let me explain!"

"No. No, I think you have done enough," Aladdin said, quietly. "You told me that you were the cause, and I kept your secret because I feared for the Sultana and the Princess’s lives. Now that it's out in the open, we can admit that we are no match for the Dark One's handiwork."

"That's not -"

"Take him away," the Sultana hissed. "I want him in the dungeons, lock him in the best cell we have. Unless, do you have objections Emma?"

"I…" Emma looked up, coughing for a moment as she stared at him with clear pity. "I have no objections." The whisper of her voice made him swallow hard, managing a small nod.

He was led away, placed in the dark damp of a cell so much like the one he had lived in before, wondering again if this was the punishment he so rightfully deserved.

#Courtorderedcake #21st #July #2020 #July 21st 2020 #CSSNS #CSSNS 2019 #CSSNS20 #captain swan fanfiction #captain swan #cs au #cs ff au #captain swan fanart #my writing #my artwork

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mvsicians · 5 years ago

Text

when despair for the world grows in me & i wake in the night at the least sound in fear of what my life & my children’s lives may be, i go & lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, & the great heron feeds. i come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief. i come into the presence of still water. & i feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light. for a time i rest in the grace of the world, & am f r e e.

click here for his statistics & click here for his pinterest .

( TRIGGER WARNING : PARENT DEATH & CANCER )

♩ — 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓 & 𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐍 met during middle school & immediately became infatuated with one another. it didn’t take long for them to become a couple, & they entered into high school as a pair as well. the relationship was quite remarkable as they were a healthy couple, which was rare in their age group. however, at the age of sixteen, isabella became pregnant. after some meditation & consideration ------ she decided she would indeed keep the baby, & raise it no matter what oliver decided. her parents were reluctant at first, but later grew accustomed to the idea. the pair had broken up shortly after the discovery she was with child, but oliver grew into his role as the father once they’d graduated from high school. at the age of twenty, the two became wed.

♩ — 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐃 & 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐔𝐓, oliver got a job as a stockbroker, whereas isabella was a waitress in a diner in their town. the hours were fairly flexible & allowed her to spend as much time as possible with her son. whenever he wasn’t with his parents, he was with his maternal grandparents. he grew to become very close with them & have a strong sense of family.

♩ — 𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐍 avid lover of classic rock, especially fleetwood mac, & would be the one to instill a deep love of music within her son. from an early age, he always expressed a keen interest in all things music, & have a natural ear. they purchased him his first piano at the age of seven & paid for two years of professional lessons.

♩ — 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐓 the age of ten when oliver fell sick. these days, you don’t think of young people -- the picture of perfect health -- to get cancer. the doctors said he had a good prognosis, they caught it early & he should be fine. but doctors aren’t fortune tellers, & it’s better not to place all your faith in should’s. the amount of strength & courage he witnessed in his father in those two years the cancer drained him was far more strength than any superhero in the stories.

♩ — 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 only his father who displayed a largely admirable strength -- it was also his mother. after he passed, isabella’s parents began to stay with them at the house. there was a copious amount of bills that needed to be paid & the waitressing job wasn’t enough to keep up. oliver’s parents eventually donated a sum of money to the family after witnessing their struggles & some parents at eli’s school also started up a fundraiser for them. isabella found this humiliating but was at her wit’s end.

♩ — 𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐄 of eleven, he began teaching piano lessons to some of the neighbor’s children. not a large sum of money, but it was better than nothing. he amassed a tiny sum of money for himself to rely less on his mother. by the age of thirteen, he was being heavily encouraged by isabella to begin boarding school at marble hill preparatory. she had faith in him -- that he could be something bigger than her. she wanted him to give him an opportunity to truly be something great. she believed wholeheartedly that: if anyone could do it, it was him. she’d been referring to him as ‘ mini mozart ‘ since he was five.

♩ — 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄 -- they’d never be able to afford marble hill preparatory on their own funds. eli had always gone above & beyond, excelling at school. there was only one b on his report card in all his years of schooling. he manged to get a full scholarship to mhp by his grades & a paper he had written on his father. it was difficult for him to leave his mother, but he was content in knowing this was what she wanted for him. they’d set arrangements that they would call one another as much as possible, as well as write to each other & for him to send her videos of him playing piano.

♩ — 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐒 & 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂 were his priority in high school. he was always a quiet & shy individual, who lost himself in music. however it grew apparent in his freshman year that he had problems beyond ‘ just being shy ‘ & began seeing a counselor outside of mhp who diagnosed him with social anxiety. his therapist was his main support system during this time. it was quite lonely living so far from his family, but he did manage to make a few close friends during his time at marble hill preparatory. he had difficulties in making the friends that he did.

♩ — 𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐒 first kiss at the age of twelve with one of the girls in his neighborhood who was one of his only friends. she told him that he was cute & requested that he be the first girl that he kissed. this is the only interaction that he has had with the opposite sex. he had crushes on girls in high school, & one short - lived relationship, but he never actually lost his virginity.

♩ — 𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 get accepted into hatchett on a full scholarship not only because of his stellar grades, but because he composed his own sonata for the piano & then played it. he was began composing & writing his own music in high school. he was self-taught for the most part, due to his low income, & learned through music theory books from the library as well as youtube. due to his affinity for music, he picked everything up very quickly.

♩ — 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐘, he has not outgrown his quiet demeanor ( though it has vastly improved ) & his friendship circle is quite small. he struggles in creating any sort of relationship with others. being a performer is difficult due to his social anxiety, but because it is something he deeply desires for himself & his mother -- he has put a large amount of time & effort into becoming a better performer. it used to be an impossible task but has improved largely since he began at hatchett.

♩ — ( 𝐒𝐔𝐁 - 𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓 : 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 ) : he has had his fair share of short-term jobs, but the longest one he has ever had was at SUNDAE BEST. he got along well with his boss & coworkers, & it was even helping him to come out of his shell. he was more than devastated when he eventually lost his job. he swore up & down that he was innocent ------ & he was ------ but he was still fired. that was one of the most strenuous times, & it was humiliating to phone his mother to tell her he’d been fired. luckily, she helped him cover the costs of everything short-term, & he managed to find another job within a month & a half.

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒. —

♩ — 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 ( 𝟎 / 𝟑 ) : he graduated from marble hill preparatory, & he didn’t have too many friends during his time there, but these were close friends in high school & hopefully still keep in contact at hatchett.

♩ — 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 : he is extremely innocent & this person would corrupt him.

♩ — 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 : he brings out hidden positive traits of the other & some of his positive characteristics rub off on them.

♩ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓 : a mutual friendship where they both have a deep trust & often go to one another for advice.

♩ — 𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 : someone who is a complete opposite to him that somehow still gets along with him.

♩ — 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 : someone who takes him under their wing.

♩ — 𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒 : people who pick on him for various reasons.

♩ — 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐓 : if there is are any plots that are not listed here that you can think of, come & message me so we can talk about it !!

#hatchet:intro #parent death tw #cancer tw

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dailytomlinson · 6 years ago

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Louis Tomlinson was left sour-faced after begging Simon Cowell to save his act Armstrong Martins but to no avail.

The former One Direction star lost Armstrong in the first double elimination on Sunday night's result show, as he was sent home - alongside Olatunji Yearwood - following Simon's deciding vote.

Armstrong was forced to go head-to-head with Janice Robinson in the sing-off and while his mentor championed his performance, Simon chose to ignore Louis' pleas and ended Armstrong's time in the competition.

Robbie decided to support wife Ayda and voted to send Armstrong home, telling the hopefuls: 'Two extreme talents... can't believe either of you are right in front of me right now. I'm going to keep it sweet and simple, the act I'm sending home is Armstrong.'

That left Simon with the deciding vote and Louis gave it everything he could to persuade his boss and close pal to give Armstrong another chance in the competition.

He told the music mogul: 'If we had a meeting tomorrow you would sign him tomorrow... I'm that confident.'

Simon already appeared to have his mind made up, as he ignored Louis' pleas and decided to save Janice's place on the show.

Prior to making his decision, Simon had debated between the two acts. He said: 'I'm going to be honest with both of you - why I think you're both here is even with those save me songs they weren't the right songs for you.

'Armstrong you are interesting, Janice we've lost you since your first audition, you are the better singer but Armstrong you're interesting.'

Janice gave an emotional performance of Miley Cyrus' track The Climb. Ayda showed her full support for the former 90s singer, as she stood throughout Janice's performance and vigorously applauded the hopeful.

Armstrong sang his rendition of Phil Collins' hit True Colours. Like Janice, his performance was full of emotional as the star gave it his all. Louis said he was 'absolutely speechless and gutted' to see Armstrong in the sing-off. He said: 'What I see in Armstrong is an artist, not a contestant.'

Fans watching at home were quick to throw their support behind Armstrong, with many criticising Simon's decision to send him home.

They penned in fury: 'How’s Armstrong in the bottom 3!?

'is there a wild card thing on the show?? bc armstrong really deserves to come back

'Well I think that's enough for today... I'm just so mad because of Armstrong leaving the competition.

'ayda and robbie are always gonna save each other’s acts & simon is just a d**khead who wants to disagree with everything louis says for the fun of it. not fair at all.

Ahead of Armstrong's exit from The X Factor, Olatunji was given the boot as he received the fewest votes from the public.

Ayda seemed devastated to see the star go, as she told host Dermot: 'I'm completely devastated. I just don't get it. He smashed it last night. He brought the house down. He's an incredible human being.'

Olatunji thanked the show for the 'opportunity' as he gracefully bowed out of the series.

Simon, meanwhile, successfully had all his acts sent through to the second week of live shows, as did Robbie.

Danny Tetley was seen eagerly celebrating as he was the second to last act to be put through, while Robbie's boyband United Vibe secured the last spot going forward.

At the beginning of Sunday night's results show, Dermot O'Leary left viewers amused as he joked he doesn't get paid enough on The X Factor.

The show host couldn't resist making a dig at boss Simon, after the judging panel decided to get cheeky with him at the beginning of Sunday night's results show.

Asking Simon which acts could be under threat ahead of the first live elimination of the singing competition, the music mogul referenced X Factor's double axing, as he joked: 'I think two will go tonight.'

Sighing with dismay, Dermot rolled his eyes and vented in response: 'This is what i have to work with for six months of the year,' before adding: 'They don't pay me enough.'

Following the first live show, two acts are set to leave the competition after giving it their all for The X Factor's Greatest Showman themed first week titled 'This Is Me'.

Fans were treated to a special performance from star of the hit movie Kaela Settle, who took to the stage with the track that has made her a household name.

Sharing her advice for the contestants following her performance, she said: 'What you're already doing is enough. Stick to your guns when you forget how good you are you've got people around you to remind you.'

2017 winners Rak-Su also took to the stage to perform their new single I Want You To Freak. Speaking to host Dermot following their performance, they said: 'It feels amazing to perform in front of everybody who helped me and my friends have the 12 months of a lifetime.'

Asked who they were rooting for this time round, Rak-Su picked out Anthony Russell for the 'perseverance' he has shown, auditioning for The X Factor multiple times before reaching the live shows.

The 12 finalists have now been whittled down to 10, with both Simon and Robbie still successfully having all four of their acts left in the competition.

Simon is mentoring the girls; Bella Penfold, 19, Molly Scott, 16, Scarlett Lee, 20, and Shan, 25.

Robbie has the groups; A*, LMA Choir, Misunderstood and Vibe 5.

Following Sunday's double elimination Ayda has Danny Tetley, 37, Giovanni Spano, 33, and Janice, 37, left in her category, while Louis has Anthony Russell, 28, Brendan Murray, 21, and Dalton Andre Harris, 24.

The X Factor came under fire with viewers, with many claiming this series should be the show's last as they hit out at the quality of hopefuls competing in the live shows.

Simon is mentoring the girls; Bella Penfold, 19, Molly Scott, 16, Scarlett Lee, 20, and Shan, 25.

Robbie has the groups; A*, LMA Choir, Misunderstood and Vibe 5.

The X Factor's first live show came under fire with viewers, with many claiming this series should be the show's last as they hit out at the quality of hopefuls competing as finalists.

Taking to Twitter, disgruntled viewers penned: 'Surely this is the last series of #xfactor !? Having Robbie and Ada are just scraping the barrel now!' One fan wrote, leading the troops.

Definitely the last series of #XFactor. It’s absolutely on its a**e.

'There was some rubbish on tonight. #XFactor'; 'WTF is this rubbish?'; 'Have to say on the whole #xfactor has been utter rubbish tonight.

'#XFactor this should be the last series simon dont even give a s**t about what his girls sing.' (sic)

X Factor's first live show was hampered with a massive error when the voiceover introduced Danny Tetley as Anthony Russel on Saturday. Nail-biting scenes saw the X Factor contestant stop mid-performance before restarting his song on the live show of the series.

Yet 'tearful' fans praised the singer for not letting the 'stupid mistake' unsettle him when he had to start belting out his vocals once again.However, it wasn't long before the outspoken judges turned on each other during the live show of the competition.

X Factor fans were seething with bosses for silencing Louis Tomlinson's microphone when he fought with Robbie Williams over One Direction on Saturday.

The Let Me Entertain You hitmaker ripped into Louis' former band One Direction when Simon Cowell criticised his group United Vibe during the first live show. Much to the distaste of One Direction's biggest fans, Robbie claimed his band United Vibe were 'leaps and bounds' ahead of the chart-topping boy group.

He asserted: 'You’re leaps and bounds ahead of One Direction. Better place than Take That one month in. These boys are going places.'

But before Louis could speak to defend One Direction, the X Factor bosses muted his microphone without any warning.

Fuming fans rushed to social media to share their frustration that the singer wasn't allowed to respond to Robbie's undercutting comment. The clash started because Simon made a sly dig at former boybander Robbie about United Vibe's image wasn't 'messy' enough for a boy band.

He said: 'This was better than I thought it was going to be. It all looks too stage at the moment. I don't need to tell you Robbie. It works when it's messy and fun.'

United Vibe, who were originally five singers put together as a group by the judges, drove fans wild on Twitter with their own version of former One Direction Niall Horan's song Slow Hands.

Keen to impress his mentor Louis, Armstrong Martins also sang a One Direction hit Story Of My Life when he showcased his incredible vocals.

Elsewhere on the show, Shan showcased her sensational vocals, even though Simon was away during her rehearsals this week and could only support via his phone.

Robbie confessed: 'I'm falling in love with you. You're the kindest woman in here, apart from my lovely wife.'

Ayda responded: 'I'm ok with Robbie falling in love with you. I have a spirit crush on you. I'd have super human power to sing just like that, SO WOULD ROBBIE.'

Olatunji impressed judges when he hit all the right notes with his own song he wrote just ten days ago before performing on Saturday's X Factor.

Back on the X Factor for a second time to prove she deserves a spot in the competition, Scarlett Lee sang her heart out to Aretha Franklin's A Natural Woman. The singer got a standing ovation from all four of the judges following her show-stopping performance.

Acacia and Aaliyah, who are only 14 and 15, put on a quirky performance when they sang Finesse by Bruno Mars and Cardi B.

Louis claimed: 'I love you two as individuals. I was expecting a bit more street than you. In general I was waiting for a little bit more.'

Ayda agreed: 'I totally agree I love you guys. I think you lost something. Too much stuff going on.' Robbie teased Simon: 'He is going through the man-a-pause. And unlike me, I think you can break America.'

Dalton Harris left everyone gobsmacked with his powerful performance of Life on Mars to close the show.

Louis said: 'I was so excited. I showed you off. I can comfortably say that was the best vocal of the night.'

#xfactor #xfactor press #daily mail #221018 #episode 15 #episode 16 #211018 #201018 #louis tomlinson #press

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long-liv-prairies · 7 years ago

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Inquisitor as a Companion

Whew! I finally finished it! Here you are @ladydracarysao3, and anyone who wants to read this really long response!

Inquisitor’s Name: Sybil Cadogan (can’t use Trevelyan, lol)

Race / Class / Specialization: Human / Rogue / Assassin/Thief

Gender Identity: Female

Varric’s Nickname for them: He tries to call her Snow, but she shuts him down immediately. You will hear this exchange as banter if both Sybil and Varric are in the party.

Varric: So, Snow…

Sybil: What was that you called me?

Varric: What? Snow? It’s a nickname.

Sybil: No.

Varric: No?

Sybil: I don’t like nicknames.

Varric: Really? All my friends get nicknames.

Sybil: Others thought they were clever when they gave me names based on my looks. I will not have you do the same.

Varric: …Fair enough. Sybil it is.

Varric does not try to give her another.

Short(ish) bio: Sybil was born to a noble Free Marcher family. The youngest of four children, with an older twin sister, she was immediately marked as different from the rest of her family because of her albinism. Her mother especially was offended by her pale daughter, as superstition ran in her family’s history about the condition. In her mother’s eyes these fears seemed to be realized when Sybil’s twin, Gemma, developed magic at a young age, and her eldest brother was killed in a hunting accident. Her other brother had been sent to become a Templar, leaving Sybil the sole heir to the Cadogan fortune and lands.

Emotionally neglected by her parents and separated from her siblings, Sybil had no interest in becoming a proper noble lady. She resisted her teachings, though she still developed a love for embroidery and horse riding, and still learned much. But as she grew older her mother turned to finding Sybil a husband. Sybil had no interest in noble boys her age, as in her experience they had only ever teased and ridiculed her. She found love instead in a stablehand, but when her parents discovered their affair he was jailed by her father, devastating Sybil. In a desperate attempt to get Sybil married, her mother tried to force her into a marriage with a much older man. It was the final straw, and Sybil ran away.

Alone and with no real skills to survive in the common world, Sybil turned to thieving and using her… feminine charms to secure food, drink, and lodging wherever she traveled. Free for the first time she didn’t always make the smartest decisions, and was arrested on occasion, with one such arrest ending in an encounter with her father that turned sour, as he attempted to trick her into a marriage she still did not want. She escaped, but vowed to never see her parents again.

Over the years she refined her skills as a thief and a lover, never staying long in any one place, finding people to train her further, including members of the Coterie, and help her rob larger and larger targets. Eventually Sybil found a way to sneak into the Circle where her twin Gemma was held, though after the Kirkwall rebellion she had to resort to offering favors to a Templar to secure her passage. However, upon learning that after a few weeks the Templar had turned to her sister for his payment, she snapped, and murdered him in the tower. Gemma was mortified when she was told, and angry at Sybil. Sybil, frightened of what would happen if she was discovered, ran, drowning herself in alcohol and the company of men.

Gemma disappeared after the Circles fell, along with Sybil’s Templar brother Nyle, and she was travelling to the Conclave in hopes of finding them when the Divine was killed.

-The rest below the cut because it’s loooooong

What would their companion card look like? (The Devil) Sybil is seen facing the viewer, her knees drawn up as she crouches on the ground, a chain wrapped around her feet, the cuff clasped around her ankle but open. Golden coins are spilling out of a small purse on her belt A dark hood is drawn over her head, obscuring most of her face. All you can see is her pale nose and chin, her lips turned down in a small frown, and a few small tendrils of white hair. Her cloak swirls up behind her shoulders, embroidered with floral and geometric shapes. In her hands are a pair of daggers, dripping with blood.

Recruitment mission: Shadow in the Hinterlands – You first encounter Sybil while in the Hinterlands. As you approach the rebel mages’ hideout you hear the sounds of fighting, and rushing into the clearing reveals a dark cloaked figure fighting a mage. She joins you in removing the rebel mages, and after the last one has been dispatched a cutscene is triggered.

You approach her as she inspects the bodies, leaning very close to check the face. You hear her mutter, “Good, she’s not here,” before she stands and turns to you. Her hood now removed, you see that she is incredibly pale, with white hair and pale violet eyes. She has a hard time focusing on your face.

You have a brief conversation where she tells you she was looking for her sister, a mage, amongst those gathered here, but they attacked her before she could approach. You can comment on her skills, and ask if she is interested in fighting for the Inquisition. She will turn you down, saying that she needs to find her sister. Whether you ask her to join you or not, she mentions that she will be heading toward Redcliffe next, as she’s heard most of the mages are there.

After returning to Skyhold a message will appear on the war table from Sybil. She is having trouble approaching Redcliffe, and offers her aid in exchange for passage into the city. If you accept, she will meet you outside Redcliffe when you approach, and help in closing the rift just outside the gate. During the cutscene she will part ways to find her sister, thanking you for your assistance.

When you next attempt to leave Redcliffe another cutscene will trigger, and Sybil will approach you once more, this time with another woman in tow. The dark-skinned, dark-haired woman is introduced as Gemma. You can ask, “This is your… sister?” and Sybil will nod, saying deadpan, “We’re twins actually.”

At this point she will offer her services to the Inquisition. You can ask what changed her mind, and she will say that now that she has found her sister, she wants to make sure she is safe, and the Inquisition seems like they’re the only ones helping anything at this point. When asked about her skills, she will allude to being an accomplished thief, and mentions that she’s more than capable in a fight. If pressed for more, she will begrudgingly tell you that she has more than enough secrets collected on various nobles around the continent to keep your spymaster satisfied, as well as connections to the largest thieves guild in Kirkwall, the Coterie. Gemma will also mention that she is a capable spirit healer, though she has little experience in combat.

If you accept, Sybil will be added as a companion, and you will have the choice to add her to your party right away. Gemma will be recruited as an Inquisition agent. If you do not choose to meet her at Redcliffe you will lose the opportunity to recruit her.

Where they would be in Skyhold / Haven: Sybil can be found at Haven outside the tavern, leaning against the wall. In Skyhold she will find a spot on the wall, near one of the empty rooms with a bed in it.

Personal quests:

Quest 1: Brother Where Art Thou – If the Inquisitor sided with the mages, Sybil will request Inquisition resources to try and find information about the fate of her Templar brother, Nyle. If the quest is completed before the battle at the Arbor Wilds, he will be discovered hiding out with a small number of unchanged Templars, in the throes of lyrium withdrawal but safe from red lyrium. He will be brought to Skyhold with the rest of the Templars, and Sybil will greatly approve. However, if the quest is not completed until after the battle, if will be revealed that he died a red Templar at the battle. Information will come forward suggesting he had gone months undiscovered by the red Templars, but when he was discovered had been force fed red lyrium until he was transformed. Sybil will disapprove of this outcome. If the Inquisitor sided with the Templars, Nyle will have been among the Templars brought to Skyhold, and be an NPC you can talk to for a little more information about Sybil and her past.

Quest 2: (Loyalty) Blood and Water – If approval is high enough Sybil will approach the Inquisitor with a problem. She will reveal that she has received a letter from her parents, demanding that she return to the Free Marches. They claim that she is married, and legally required to return to her husband. Sybil will tell the Inquisitor that the marriage was a sham, and that the Chantry Mother had been paid off by her father to say that she had completed the marriage rites. The Inquisitor can point out that Sybil is under no obligation to return to the Free Marches and her ‘husband’, and that the Inquisition will keep her safe. Sybil will insist, saying that she would have a better peace of mind if she knew her family couldn’t come after her. She asks that the Inquisitor use their influence to convince the Mother to reveal the fraud, and annul the false marriage. If the Inquisitor agrees to help her, they will travel to Ostwick. They will arrive at a Chantry where Sybil says the corrupt Mother lives and her father comes every day, and wait. After some time passes an older man will enter. His hair is graying and his skin is a slightly lighter shade than Gemma’s, though his eyes are the same striking green. He will approach a statue of Andraste and kneel. A Chantry Mother will enter the room, and approach the man. Sybil will come out of hiding and approach the two, calling out to her father that she’s come back. However, she tells him that she has only returned to come out from under his thumb for good, saying that she never intended to see him again. He will try to intimidate her, saying that she has no choice but to return to them, that the law will not allow her to run forever. He will threaten her, saying that he knows enough about her past crimes to have her arrested should he choose. Sybil will turn to the Inquisitor, introducing them and saying that her father holds no power over her. The Mother will appear very intimidated by the Inquisitor, and deferential. The Inquisitor will have the chance to question the Mother and Sybil’s father about the marriage. More information will be revealed, and they will learn that the man she is “married” to is an old family friend of her brother’s, who had been almost raised by her father like another son. Her father will reveal that Sybil had previously slept with the man, and that she completed the marriage rites willingly. Sybil will interject, saying that she had been essentially kidnapped by her father and forced in front of the Chantry mother. She feared for her life and only went along while she felt her life was in danger. During this entire exchange, the more questions the Inquisitor asks the more Sybil will disapprove, as her father tries to muddy the events that happened, and convince the Inquisitor that Sybil is actually the one lying. Ultimately, the Inquisitor can intimidate, convince, or command the Mother to admit that the marriage was fake, and that Sybil is free from this man. Or, the Inquisitor can side with Sybil’s father and the Mother, either because they do not want to help Sybil, or because they are now convinced that Sybil is the one lying and trying to use their power to get out of a marriage she now regrets. If the Inquisitor sides with Sybil she will leave triumphantly, telling her father that she is now free from him for good, and that she has ultimately found a family where he provided her none. However, if the Inquisitor sides with her father she will look betrayed. She will still tell her father that she will not be returning, and storm from the room. As the Inquisitor leaves the Chantry Sybil will be waiting outside. She will have her daggers in her hands, and while she won’t threaten the Inquisitor, it is clear she is ready to attack. After a brief discussion she will simply tell the Inquisitor, “I don’t know why I’m surprised. So called friends always betray you in the end,” and then she walks away. If you do not side with Sybil she will leave the Inquisition for good. Gemma will still remain at Skyhold, but she will tell you nothing about the whereabouts of her sister, and at the end of the main game Gemma will quietly disappear. If you do not complete her loyalty quest, or approval is not high enough to trigger it, Sybil will remain with the Inquisition until the end game, but leave shortly after the final party. If you complete her loyalty quest successfully, Sybil will decide to remain with the Inquisition for a while after the final confrontation. If her loyalty quest is completed successfully, and the Inquisitor has flirted enough with Sybil, a cutscene will trigger back at Skyhold where Sybil reveals she has stronger feelings for him than she anticipated. Dialogue will be slightly different depending on whether they have previously slept together, but regardless, the Inquisitor will have a chance to initiate a more substantial relationship with Sybil. The scene will lead toward sex, with the implication that this is no longer a one time encounter.

Quest 3: (Romance) A Sister’s Love - After completing her loyalty quest and beginning a relationship, Sybil will reveal to you that she worries for her sister and her future outside of the Circle. Sybil knows that currently the Templars do not have control over the mages, but she is afraid that in the future things will change and Gemma will be once more locked away. This fear will be especially strong if the Inquisition is allied with an otherwise free Templar Order. She reveals her worry about Gemma’s phylactery still being somewhere out in the world. After this conversation a quest marker will appear on the war table titled “Find Gemma’s Pylactery”. The quest will let you choose between Leliana or Cullen, using either her spies or former Ostwick Templars to look into where the phylacteries from the Circle have ended up. Either option will reveal information that the Ostwick phylacteries are not it the abandoned Circle, but evidence suggests they were taken by one of the high ranking Templars. Another quest will appear on the war table titled “Track the Phylacteries”. The results of this quest will reveal the estate where a noble Templar Captain has been hiding, biding his time with the phylacteries and a stash of lyrium until the war calms down. A quest will appear on the map to confront the Templar and retrieve the phylactery. The Inquisitor must take Sybil, though he will have the option to tell her beforehand about where they are going, or not. The party will approach a mansion at night, and stealthily climb into a second story window, led by Sybil. They will make your way through a few rooms, looting as you go, before ending up in a room filled with red Templars. They will discover that the Templar Captain has been housing Templars and feeding them red lyrium, turning them. The group will confront the Templar Captain, and when he is destroyed a cutscene will trigger when the phylacteries are found. Sybil will either be surprised to find the phylacteries if she was not told, or very relieved and excited. She will find Gemma’s vial among the horde and pocket it, then destroy the rest of the stash, saying that she wants to be sure the rest of the mages will be safe from Templars in the future. Back at Skyhold there will be a cutscene where Sybil presents the phylactery to Gemma. The sisters will share a moment, where many things are forgiven. Gemma will be relieved, and decide to destroy the phylactery under her foot, saying that she had spent enough of her life behind walls, and that she has no intention of returning to that life. Gemma will leave and Sybil will turn to the Inquisitor, thanking him for making sure her sister will be safe. She will kiss him, and the two will end up in bed. In the morning the Inquisitor will wake next to Sybil in bed. She is awake and watching his face, close so that her eyes can focus on his features. She will tell him, for the first time, that she loves him, and that she wants to be with him exclusively and for as long as possible. She says that it had been a long time since she has trusted someone like she trusts him, or even thought that she could love someone again. He’s given her renewed faith that people can be good and true, and that she doesn’t have to face the world alone anymore.

How to get their approval: Siding with commoners over nobles will always garner her approval, as well as decisions favorable for mages that lead to more freedoms for them. If you are snarky and flirt with her, she will approve. She will also approve of an Inquisitor who generally makes jokes about situations they are faced with. She will greatly approve of siding with the mages. Compassionate rulings toward those in desperate situations will gain her approval.

How to get their disapproval: Making judgmental comments about her past will result in disapproval, as will offering advice when it is not asked. She will disapprove of Inquisitors who side with nobles over the less trodden, and who try to suppress mages’ freedoms. She will disappoint of harsh sentences toward desperate people.

Are they romanceable? Yes, by male Inquisitors of any race. She will approve of female Inquisitors who flirt with her, but will make it clear early on that she is not interested so as not to lead them on.

Can you have sex with them? Yes. A relationship with Sybil will start with sex first. Once reaching Syhold and even before you complete her loyalty mission, the Inquisitor will have the chance to ask to spend a night in the tavern with Sybil. A cutscene will trigger and they will talk about their pasts, though Sybil will hold much back, with some chances for approval changes. Over the course of the night a male Inquisitor will have the chance to propose going to bed with Sybil. If approval is neutral or higher, she will agree, and the scene will fade. The next scene will show Sybil in the morning, dressed and quietly leaving the Inquisitor’s bedroom as he wakes. He will call after her and choose to cut things off right then, or ask to keep seeing her. If he cuts things off, she will agree with no approval change, saying that she doesn’t usually see people more than once. If he asks to continue seeing her, she will refuse, saying that she doesn’t want things to get serious. The Inquisitor will continue to be able to flirt with her, but they will not sleep together again until her romance progresses.

Are they open to polyamory? Yes. She will not disapprove of the Inquisitor flirting or sleeping with other companions, though in order for her romance quest to trigger and her romance culminate all other romances will need to be cut off.

If they can be romanced and are not, will they begin a relationship / relationships with other character(s)? If so, who? Regardless if Sybil is romanced or not, if Bull is recruited and they are in the same party there will be banter early on implying that they have slept together. There will also be some chatter around Haven/Skyhold afterwards, and the Inquisitor will have a chance to ask Sybil about it. She will disapprove if the Inquisitor seems judgmental of the relationship. No matter what, the relationship will not continue and the Inquisitor will have the chance to romance either of them with no problems. If her loyalty mission is completed, the Inquisitor is not in a relationship with Cullen, and he has stopped taking lyrium, she will enter into a relationship with the Commander.

Who are they friendly with? Iron Bull, Dorian, Sera, Cassandra. Her and Iron Bull have sexual chemistry and generally joke with each other, she and Dorian joke when in a party together, her and Sera have similar views towards nobles and Sybil appreciates her uncertainly toward religion, and it’s implied that Sybil and Cassandra spar.

Who do they dislike? Vivienne, Solas, Cole. She doesn’t like the way Cole says her thoughts out loud, Solas is too stuffy and no fun in her mind, and Vivienne is too pro-Circle. She doesn’t dislike Varric or Blackwall, but they spend less time together.

Companion card changes: (use a text descrip. if you have no images)

Loyalty (Successful): (Judgement) Sybil stands at the top of a flight of stairs on Skyhold’s walls with her hood thrown back, her face turned toward the sky and a content expression on her face. Tendrils of white hair still flow around her features, and there is more color in the cloak that swirls behind her figure. The sun shines above her, and the Frostback Mountains rise up around her.

Loyalty (Failed, left the Inquisition): (Three of Swords) Sybil kneels on the ground, her head bent and obscured by her hood. Rain falls from a dark sky and a dagger is driven symbolically through her body. She holds two other daggers crossed over her heart.

Romance: (Two of Cups) Sybil is naked, her pale body pressed against the chest of a man. Her eyes are closed and her lips pressed against his throat. Their arms are wrapped around each other in a passionate embrace, and a budding vine entwines their bodies as one. They each hold empty wine glasses.

Side Missions: Coterie Connections – A series of war table missions where Sybil contacts some of her connections with the Coterie, providing intel for Leliana, Cullen, and Josephine about nobles in Kirkwall and the Free Marches. Will provide influence, gold, and items from completed missions. Letters from one of her contacts will imply that she had been romantically involved with at least one of the Coterie members.

Opinions on mages / templars / how the world is going to shit? Sybil is very pro mage and anti-Circle, as the Circles are what took her sister away from her as a child. She believes mages should have their freedoms, though she does recognize the need for education. She hates Templars as a whole, though she will be friendly with Templars as individuals, though she often has some mistrust toward them initially. In her mind the world has always been shitty, though she recognizes that Corypheus’s actions are above and beyond the general awfulness of the world, which is why she is willing to help and make things better.

Something guaranteed to make them leave the party: Siding with her father during her loyalty mission, no matter how high her approval or the state of romance relations, will result in her leaving the Inquisition. No matter how low her approval, so long as she is not betrayed during her loyalty mission, she will stay to keep her sister safe. If approval is neutral or lower, she will leave after the final confrontation with Corypheus and not return in Trespasser.

Special Events:

Imprisoned at Redcliffe: How are they holding up in Redcliffe, being slowly infected with red lyrium over the course of a year? She has been driven nearly mad, as she watched her sister waste away next to her in the cell. She is almost entirely blind, and in the final fight she recklessly attacks, just wanting to kill as many creatures as possible before death takes her herself.

At the Winter Palace: Do they enjoy the party, any special events with them at the Palace? She detests the Winter Palace. Asking her will reveal that it reminds her too much of her childhood, where such events were only ever uncomfortable and painful. If romanced, you can ask her to dance and she will be surprised, but admit that the dance was nice.

In the Fade: Their reaction upon entering the Fade? Nightmare demon’s taunt, and their response? Fear on their grave?

She finds the Fade greatly unsettling, and admits afterwards that she understands why mages fear demons.

“Why do you try? You are worthless, only useful to others when on your back. You should run, just as you always have. It would serve you better.” If loyalty mission completed – “I’m done running, demon, and you will feel my blades in your back before we are through.” If loyalty mission not completed. “Fuck off.”

Greatest Fear: Controlled

Trespasser: What were they up to two years after Corypheus’ defeat? Any special events with them over the events of Trespasser?

If Sybil has left the Inquisition, she will not return for Trespasser. However, she will have kept somewhat in touch with the other members she was friendly with, and they may allude to her activities. If she her loyalty mission was failed, you will hear that she has been spending years drinking and sleeping around. Her final slide will reveal that she had been arrested and is currently jailed and wasting away. If she left with neutral or low approval, you will hear that she is still thieving, living back with the Coterie last that was heard, earning money to keep Gemma safe.

If she stays with the Inquisition, she will have risen in the ranks among the spies of the Inquisition. If Leliana becomes Divine, she will be second to Charter. If she romances Cullen, they will reveal that they are engaged.

If romanced, the Inquisitor will have the chance to propose to Sybil during Trespasser.

Other Major Events: Any other major events that happen with them over the course of the main game?

During the main game there will occasionally be banter around Haven or Skyhold suggesting Sybil has spent the night with various men of every race and background. This will continue after the first time the Inquisitor can sleep with her, but end once the romance is initiated after her loyalty mission is completed.

#Sybil Trevelyan #companion meme #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #ask meme

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hauntedbunkbeds · 7 years ago

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Day 4: St. Agatha Island

Day 4, Secret Agent Thriller: Do you hear the James Bond theme? Try to block it out and do your OWN thing!

* The following is an excerpt from my unfinished short story, St. Agatha Island. I look forward to finishing this story when this month of prompts ends.*

St. Agatha Island

There was a foot on the beach. I thought it was a coincidence. After all, who sees a disembodied foot on a beach and thinks, “This is meant for me?” I did the normal thing and called the police.

“This is more common than you’d think,” an officer said to me as a woman in blue latex gloves collected the foot into a red and white Igloo-brand cooler.

“Feet are usually the first thing to disarticulate from the body in water, so we’ll often find the foot of a drowned person well before the torso, head, what have you. Helps if they were wearing shoes, what with the buoyancy of the rubber.”

I nodded and lit a cigarette, a habit I meant to break for forty years until one morning I woke up and realized I could do whatever the fuck I wanted and I would still die sooner rather than later. So, I would take a walk down the beach every morning and smoke a cigarette or two. Sometimes, the discovery of a disembodied foot called for one extra.

“Should I be worried?” I asked the officer.

He shook his head.

“Oh, no,” he said, “This is not the work of some sadistic killer. Or I should say, it most likely isn’t. We’re probably looking at an accidental drowning or a suicide.”

He fished a card out of his shirt pocket and handed it to me.

“Officer Dave Bailey,” he said, holding out his hand. I shook it.

“Call me Augie,” I said.

“If you do see anything else, feet or otherwise, feel free to give me a call.”

I thanked him and continued my walk home, following the thick tracks his beach cruiser left in the sand.

My home was a weathered little beach house with a long, rickety dock leading out to the water. An old speed boat bobbed in the current at the end of the dock, “Valencia” painted in white cursive on the side. I named the boat Valencia after a woman who thought I was dead, who I still loved.

This was not the retirement I had envisioned for myself, but circumstances change, and we learn to adapt. Life on St. Agatha Island was pleasant enough. It was quiet, and I had always enjoyed being alone. In the mornings I would take my walks, smoking a cigarette, enjoying the elegant kamikaze diving routine of seabirds hunting for breakfast. I spent my long afternoons reading old spy novels, and trying my hand at writing my own. It wasn’t any good, but I enjoyed the process of filling up old yellow legal pads with my chicken scratch handwriting. At night I would pour whiskey into an old coffee mug and take it down to the end of the dock with an old AM/FM radio. At least, the outside resembled an AM/FM radio. The guts were bit of my own concoction. I turned the dial until static gave way to the sound of a man’s voice, pathetically pleading.

Please, can anyone hear me? If anyone can hear me, please send help! Please, is anyone out there? I’m at--

There was the sound of clanging metal, and voices yelling, distant, indistinct.

I took a sip of my whiskey and sighed contentedly, staring out into the gorgeous ocean sunset.

A week had passed when I saw Officer Dave Bailey again. He was standing in line at the overpriced coffee shop I would sometimes sit at when I needed to use the internet. He noticed me sitting at a corner table with my dented silver laptop and raised his eyebrows at me conspiratorially. I gave him a polite wave in return. He got his coffee and made his way over to my table, still with that look on his face, like a child with a secret.

“We ID'd your friend,” he said to me, in lieu of a hello.

“My friend?” I asked.

“The foot,” he whispered. He gestured to the empty chair across from me and I nodded that he could sit.

“That’s good news,” I said, taking a sip of my coffee and closing my laptop.

“It is,” he agreed. “Turns out, the guy was reported missing over a year ago.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“But wasn’t it, um,” I struggled with what might be kosher. “It showed no signs of...”

“Exactly!” Officer Bailey exclaimed, agreeing to my incomplete thought. “There was no sign of decay at all. So my thinking is that maybe this guy buys a boat and decides to go off the grid, then a year later, has an accident and drowns.”

Officer Dave Bailey was probably in his mid-forties. He had the tan, weathered skin of someone who had grown up on the beach. You could always pick them out. They looked simultaneously far younger and much older than their age. I could tell he had been on the force for a while. His enthusiasm wasn’t that of a rookie, but of a man who has been bored for a very long time and finally got something to play with. His knowledge about the disarticulation of human feet wasn’t a product of finding his fair share of human feet, as I had originally thought, but of years of downtime spent reading true crime with his feet up on his desk. He reminded me of myself, decades before, and I liked him.

“This will be a huge relief to his family,” I said. “Closure will be valuable as they mourn.”

Officer Bailey nodded.

“In some form or other,” he said, “Robert J. Gould will finally come home.”

I nearly spit my coffee out. I must have looked wild-eyed because Officer Bailey looked taken aback.

“Augie, you look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

“I...I’m sorry,” I said. I held my hands under the table so he wouldn’t see how they were shaking. “I knew a man by that name. It must just be pure coincidence. The man I knew is already buried in the ground.”

He nodded.

“I’m sorry about your friend,” he said. He leaned forward as if he might offer me his hand to hold, but then looked away and took an uncomfortable sip of his coffee.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” I said. “How were you able to identify the body?”

Officer Bailey perked right back up.

“I completely forgot to mention!” he said. “We found a hand on the other end of the beach not long after your foot. Hands disarticulate just as easily as feet, only they don’t beach as often, so we really got lucky. By another turn of luck, the hand even had a wedding ring on, engraved with two sets of initials and a wedding date. From that we were able to get a match from our Missing Persons database, and better yet, we ran the DNA against the foot, and it was a match!”

“That’s incredible,” I said, trying to muster up some enthusiasm.

“The saddest thing about it, though,” Bailey kept going. “Is the date on the wedding band. It’s only a couple weeks before he disappeared.”

I shook my head. I already knew the date. I would never forget that date.

“His wife must be devastated,” I muttered.

Bailey nodded.

“We hope to get in touch with her soon,” he said.

I could have saved him a lot of trouble, told him they’d never reach her, but I said nothing.

“Well I gotta get moving,” Bailey said. “But I thought you’d like the news. Feels like the Hardy Boys, doesn’t it? Solving mysteries and all that.”

At that I managed a genuine smile.

“I always loved those old books.”

“You have a good day, Augie,” he said, and with a little wave I was alone again.

When I opened my laptop again, I noticed I had a new email. I wasn’t surprised. I knew who it was from before I read the name.

I clicked opened the email, and one sentence taunted me from the screen. One sentence was enough for me to know that my peaceful days on St. Agatha Island were over.

Did you like my little gifts, Robert?

[TO BE CONTINUED]

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queenjunoking · 4 years ago

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Wolf Taming Pt 25 (1/2)

CW: Noncon - Shock Collar - Pain - Petplay - Drugs - Kidnapping - Manipulation

I didn’t have a lot of time.

I needed to do what I could. I scrambled off the couch and sprinted down the stairs, missing a step half way down the first flight of stairs and sliding to the bottom. I felt the seconds fly past me as I took a moment to recover. I had hurt my arm a bit but that didn’t matter. The time it took for the hidden door to open felt like an eternity, but I sprinted down the stairs the second it was open enough. I narrowly avoided slipping down this flight of stairs as well. When I got to the Wolf’s Den door unlocked I practically threw it off its hinges.

“Morning Z. I’m amazed you got me back down there. Got you pretty good didn’t I? Not much… without… the collar… are you?” She was acting smug when she first saw me, but even she picked up there was something wrong when she saw me. I must have been a sight. Running into the room with my eyes wild while I hyperventilated.

I wanted nothing more than to just sit with her but I had to keep my thoughts together. I ran into the toy room and began looking for the box of tools I never thought I was going to need. I was inputting codes and passwords into my phone with my other hand. I had never hated security more than I did at this moment. Eventually I found the box. I opened it and threw a few other things inside so they’d be easier to carry. A bottle of pills, a vial of Ragdoll, a bottle of water and a cattle prod. Some of it was for Sasha. Some of it was because I hadn’t decided if I was going to fight back or not.

I finally got through the long list of prompts on my phone and placed my thumb on the screen as the final verification then I threw it in the box as well. “What the hell?” I heard Sasha comment from the other room.

I ran into the other room trying to awkwardly carry the box with me. I practically threw the contents on the ground as I got close to the cage. Sasha was sitting inside, holding her collar in her hands.

“Sasha, please you need to give that to me.” I reached my hand through the bars and held my hand out so she would give it to me.

But she didn’t. Instead she grabbed my arm and pulled me towards her, hitting my head on the bars. I felt a bit disoriented from the hit. “Why should I? Did you unlock it by mistake? Or is it time for an upgrade?”

“I need you to listen to me. If there was ever-” I felt her other hand wrap around my throat.

“You gave up your one advantage Z. I can see your phone in the box over there. The collar is off. I should just kill you. I don’t care that I’m stuck in this cage, I told you what I was going to do.” Sasha smiled at me. She had been through a lot but I don’t know if either of us were sure if she would actually do it or not.

“Then do it.” I looked her in the eyes. I didn’t think it really mattered anymore. I was just going to do what I could. If this was all I could do. Well this was all I could do. “If you’re going to kill me just do it. If you aren’t you need to hand me your collar. I’m doing everything I can to help you.”

I felt time surging past me while I waited for her decision. There was so little time left. She just started into my eyes for a bit. I felt her fingers tighten around my neck. I didn't resist her. I accepted her decision.

Then she loosened her grip. She let go of my throat first. After a few more seconds she released my wrist then threw the collar out of the cage.

I got to work immediately. Out of the box I pulled out a keycard. I went to the collar’s app and scanned the card with my phone, then held it against the front of the collar. After a few seconds it lit up. I grabbed another tool that looked like a small rod. I held it to the front of the collar and pushed a button and it magnetically attached to the collar. I tried pulling the pieces apart but I wasn’t strong enough.

“Sasha. I need you to hold the collar while I pull on this.” I passed the collar back through the bars while I held the rod. She wasn’t sure what to do. This was another moment that would end any trust we had if I was lying to her. She understood that after a few moments.

She held the collar while I pulled the rod. The collar wasn’t really meant to be taken apart. It was supposed to be seamless. But it could be taken apart, after all it had to be put together. It took sometime, but with both of us pulling it eventually separated and we both fell back. The rod and panel slipped from my hands and slid across the floor.

“Please Sasha, the collar.” I held my hand through the bars again. After a second of hesitation she handed it to me again.

The collar was a work of art. The moment I saw it I knew I wanted it. I was devastated that it didn’t fit Penny. I had entered a measurement incorrectly, it was too big. Penny was around my height. But it’s what led me to Sasha. The moment I saw her I knew it would fit her. It was fate. I didn’t care that Eos expressed interest in her when we saw her. She was meant to be with me.

I pulled out a screwdriver and a hammer from my toolbox. I held the screwdriver above the exposed piece of the collar, looking for the best place to aim. I raised the hammer and brought it down. Sending the screwdriver through the exposed piece.

The collar was broken.

It was gone.

My beautiful Sasha’s collar was ruined.

I felt a jolt go up my arm. It hurt like hell, but I couldn’t think about that. I lifted up the collar and examined it. The inside was broken into pieces. It occasionally released sparks.

It was beyond repair. A new one would need to be made. The collar was a gift for Sasha from me. I refused to let anyone else have it. I wouldn’t let anyone else hurt her with it.

It was 6:18.

“Sasha. Please look at me.” I kneeled in front of the cage and waited for Sasha to meet my eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t stop what is about to happen. But I’m going to try my best to get you back. I don’t know what is about to happen exactly, but it isn’t good. I.. can’t offer you more than this.”

I took three pills from the bottle and placed them in the cage along with the bottle of water. She picked them up and looked at them. “What are these?” She eyed me suspiciously.

“They’re going to help you sleep. With this dose it should safely keep you asleep for another 24 hours. Unlike some of the other things I’ve given you this is calculated for your size.” I couldn’t help but let out a sad chuckle.

“Why should I trust you?” It was a fair question. I wish I had a way to prove to her I was being honest. That she should work with me. But the message had deleted itself shortly after I read it. All I could do was just tell her the truth and hope she believed me.

“I’m not going to make you take it. But its all I have left to offer you. Some people are about to come in here and take you away from here. I don’t know what is going to happen to you. All I can give you is one day. A day where you won’t have to deal with whatever is about to happen. It’s one day more I’ll have to figure out how to get you back. I know you don’t believe me, but I don’t have a reason to lie. Whatever is about to happen will probably be much worse than what you’ve gone through here. Doesn’t one less day of that sound nice?” I was desperate for her to take tem and I hoped she picked up on it.

I wanted her to take them. It was the last bit of kindness I could offer her now. I needed all the time I could get. A day less of whatever they were going to do to her was another day I could use to get her back. It was one less day they had to break her. I wasn’t going to make her take it, but I wish she would.

“Z. Why do you care what happens to me?” She was looking deep into my eyes. “It sounds like everyone here is pretty terrible. It sounds like you’ve done some terrible things yourself. My kidnapping included. Why do you care if someone is taking me away from you. Is it just because you think I belong to you? Am I just a toy being taken away from you and you’re upset about it?”

“It’s because I love you Sasha. I care about you a lot even if you don’t believe it.” She kept looking into my eyes like she was looking for something. Maybe she was trying to figure out if I was serious or not.

She breathed deeply, then sighed. She popped the pills in her mouth and drank them down with the entire bottle of water. We sat in silence for a few minutes before she spoke up.

“I could have killed you.” I wasn’t quite sure what to make of her expression. I felt like she just wanted to be acknowledged.

“I’m very aware. Why didn’t you?” Part of me was morbidly curious. It would have been so easy for her. If I was in her position I'm not sure I would have let go.

“Killing you would bring me down to your level. I’ll never be as horrible of a person as you are.” She was starting to nod off. “I want you to spend the rest of your life knowing you weren’t even worth the attempt Z.”

I watched her as her eyes fluttered shut and her breathing evened out.

“I know.”

I laid against the bars and looked at Sasha. She was so beautiful. I loved her so much. Where did I go wrong? What did I do for this to be happening to me? I sighed and looked at my phone.

It was 6:29.

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neverisalongtime-ja-blog · 7 years ago

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(Final) Chapter 46: Never is a long time

I have so many things to say in this last post. First of all I want to thank everyone who read the fic and supported it and also followed Anastasia's Instagram. This experience has allowed me to meet so many amazing people around the world and I'll be forever grateful for your friendship during this time. I hope we can all keep in touch. I'm extra proud of myself for finishing this. To be honest with you, there were times when I thought couldn't do it, sometimes I didn't want to, but now I'm happy I did.

It's been a wild year since I started to write this story and my life did a 180° turn since last January when I wrote those first lines after reading another amazing fanfic (Be My Getaway), at that moment I was so alone in life and so depressed that writing this was a light in my dark day to day.

Thank you again, I never expected all the success, even if nobody read it I'm so happy I did this. Life is better now and it's just starting, and I'll keep writing, and I'll continue writing about Anastasia and I hope we can all gather around that story too.

I wanna give special thanks to Adriana for helping me with my grammar, y'all know English is not my first language, to Eva (my new roommate, who would have thought?) for the support and for being JoshAn's number one fan, and to Mai for the love.

And to you for being here with me till the end.

Thank you again, I love you all.

Back in California, Anastasia didn’t have a lot of time to think about Josh’s last unfortunate behavior. The fact that he let her down so many times now was enough for her to stop caring about it, but she couldn’t and she knew it. Now the fact that she still loved Josh as hard as she loved him a year ago didn’t leave her mind. But work was calling and Dead Curse’s new single was all about him, about Josh. “How appropriate”, she though ironically while she was inside a black van on the way to perform on “Jimmy Kimmel Live!”, a popular talk show on US television.

Jimmy knew Barbara for a long time and, of course, he knew Anastasia as well. After a warm and friendly welcome, An and Mandy did a short interview and then it was time to perform.

“Crossfire” was the name of the song and the rhythm was slow. She never planned to make it a single but the rest of the band was very enthusiastic about it and, as a democracy, they voted it to be the third single from Live Action.

There’s still in the street outside your window

You’re keeping secrets on your pillow

Let me inside, no cause for alarm

I promise tonight not to do no harm

I promise you babe, I won’t be no harm

And we’re caught up in the crossfire

Of heaven and hell

And we’re searching for shelter

Lay your body down

Watching you dress as you turn on the light

I forget all about the storm outside

Dark clouds roll their way over town

Heartache and pain came pouring down like chaos in the rain

They’re heading it out

And we’re caught up in the crossfire

Of heaven and hell

And we’re searching for shelter

Lay your body down

Tell the devil that he can go back from where he came

His fiery arrows drew their beat in vein

And when the hardest part is over we’ll be here

And our dreams will break the boundaries of our fears

Lay your body down

Next to mine

Josh’s POV

He was speechless. Josh always had certain envy towards the way Anastasia could put the deepest feelings into such melodic songs and that one, the verses he just heard her sing, were about him. He just knew it. Nobody had to tell him. She loved him and yet he let her down. She even told him she would leave it all for him and positive words couldn’t make their way out of his mouth.

There she was, on that screen, singing about him on national television, wearing a short, loose dark blue dress as the one she wore on their first date in New York, even her lips were red like the. It all brought him back to that night and all the amazing nights that followed. How could he? Josh never watched TV, unless it was sports, but Eric told him that Dead Curse would perform at Jimmy Kimmel and something inside of him pushed him to watch it. He didn’t regret it.

By then Josh was single again. Lauren ended up being tired of him not wanted to do anything “fun” with her, that and maybe the five times he called her “Anastasia” by accident –Two during sex. In the end she left him. He didn’t care about it that much, he just let her go and didn’t even try to reach her out again. It didn’t matter; no other woman mattered at the moment for him but Anastasia. A true treasure he let go, he let her space from his arms too many times. And now it was going to be harder than ever. She was with Richard the last time they were together and she, unexpectedly but magically, told him she would “leave it all” for him. But he shattered any opportunity, choosing fear again. How he loved to hear her say that to him, but enough was enough and he thought this time she wasn’t coming back. Life would go on but without her and it wasn’t going to be even half good.

Josh got up from the sofa and walked to the front door of his house. There he had a small table with some mail he hadn’t checked yet, he went through the envelopes until a very fancy one caught his attention. He opened it to discover the invitation to Mandy’s wedding.

Josh held the card in his hands for minutes and hesitated attending the wedding. On the one hand, Mandy became a great friend and many of his own friends were going to be there, but Anastasia would be an obvious presence and he didn't know if he could face her after what happened at Mark's wedding.

Anastasia’s POV

- I hope you aren't disappointed with your bachelorette party - Anastasia told Mandy while both were flying on a private jet.

- Are you insane? You know how much I wanted to visit Tulum! - Mandy said showing real excitement sitting in front of her blue haired friend.

- Yeah, but it's just us travelling. I thought you wanted a big party with a lot of people.

- An, my wedding will be a big party with a lot of people, this is just what I need right now. It all has been so stressful. I need to relax and you need tranquility too... Have you talked to Richard?

Richard... The topic Anastasia was expecting to surface but didn't want to talk about. Anastasia broke up with Richard a week before. She realized how much she still loved Josh and it wasn't fair for Richard, she was with him but thinking about Josh all the time. Richard was such a great boyfriend, loving and supportive that he didn’t deserve that, what she felt for Richard was more admiration than anything else, it was a platonic love but not a real one. The guy was devastated and Anastasia still felt bad about it.

- He actually thought we would be together forever and I thought so too, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about Josh. I truly love him, Mandy, but he will never be ready - Anastasia said.

- So you’ll just avoid love until Josh is ready? - Mandy asked.

- I'm not avoiding love - Anastasia answered - I'm waiting for it because I know Josh is my true love. - Mandy left her seat to hug Anastasia, sitting on her lap.

- I swear, underneath all that hard shell there is this super romantic, cheesy and ridiculous Anastasia that I love - Mandy said smiling.

- I'm gonna reply to that saying that we need to start with the champagne - Anastasia smiled too while Mandy took her seat again and her blue haired friend went for a bottle of champagne.

Tulum was a beautiful beach location in Mexico. Mandy had wanted to go for the longest time, so Anastasia thought it was the perfect place for a bachelorette party. She didn't have enough time to plan the whole thing ahead so there was just the two of then enjoying a best friend's weekend.

And so they did. They arrived on Saturday morning and had a large breakfast with every fruit they could possibly imagine, then they hit the beach until the afternoon. Tulum was an amazing place to find gorgeous handcraft items and both friends shopped until nighttime.

It was time for dinner. An made reservations in a very exclusive restaurant at the shore, it had a balcony and they could see and hear the waves hitting the sand.

- I don't know if this is my bachelorette party or my honeymoon - Mandy said laughing.

- Maybe this will make you fit more into the bachelorette mood - A waiter approached them with two Margaritas.

- This fits into the Mandy mood - They clinked glasses and cheered but Mandy didn't drink - I can't believe you are actually sending us to Fiji.

- It’s where you wanted to go and I told you I'd take care of the honeymoon.

- Yeah, but you are so good to me!

- Mandy, you are my best friend. You have to deal with me everyday, this is the least I could do for you. I love you. I want you to be happy and this is what best friends do.

- So I have to start planning your honeymoon in Mykonos for when you marry Josh - Anastasia smiled, how well that pink haired girl knew her.

- I'm probably more excited than you about your wedding - Anastasia said changing the subject.

- I'm excited but this is just a step. My relationship with Peyton isn't gonna change because of it.

- Why aren't you drinking your Margarita? - Anastasia asked noticing Mandy hadn't taken a sip of it yet.

- I am - Mandy answered laughing and not touching the glass.

- Of course not, and you didn't drink champagne on the plane either! - Anastasia told her friend with a suspicious look.

- You don't miss a thing, do ya? - Mandy was still laughing.

- Oh my God, Mandy! - Anastasia screamed realizing the whole thing.

- You can't tell anybody. Nobody knows. I'm going to announce it at the wedding. Only Peyton knows about it. - Mandy said with a huge smile on her face.

- You really are pregnant? - Anastasia asked and Mandy just nodded - I'm fainting, for real. I'm gonna be an aunt again! How far along are you?

- Five weeks, kinda - Mandy said - I'm very regular with my periods and I just missed one and I knew it, Peyton went with me to the doctor and the test was positive. He cried, I freaked out.

- I'm freaking out!

- Not even mom knows about it. Neither does Nick. I'm going to announce it at the wedding and it fucking sucks I can't drink on my own wedding - Mandy stopped when she saw tears in Anastasia's face - Are you crying?

- Yes. I love you so much. This is perfect.

Mandy got up from her chair and went to hug her friend.

- This baby is keeping me from drinking but I can still eat so let's eat everything! - Mandy said smiling with Anastasia.

- Isn’t Mexican food too strong for the baby?

- Well, it’ll have to step it up if it wants to come to this world?

- “It”? - Anastasia was laughing.

- We don't know if it's a girl or a boy so we call it "It". It looks like an alien, a penny sized alien. Are you nervous to see Josh at the wedding? - Mandy threw the words without warning.

- Again with the Josh thing? - Anastasia said - I'm always nervous when I’m about to see him. Even after he dumped me after having the best sex of his life. How are you so sure he will be at the wedding?

- Oh, come on! How is he going to miss it?

- Anyway, if he goes I'm sure he is going with Lauren.

- Darling, Lauren is in the past.

- How come?

- Lauren broke up with Josh because he was "too boring" for her.

- God! Poor Josh!

- Nah! Josh was good with it.

- How do you know everything about it?

- Nick likes to gossip - Mandy said with total calm and that made Anastasia burst with laugh - He does! He is the gossipy aunt.

- Shut up! - She was really happy that Josh was single again; it was like a never ending feeling of hope. - I don't know why I'm glad about it.

- Because you want him...

- I can't believe you are pregnant! Cheers to that! - Anastasia said raising her Margarita glass and drinking from it, ignoring the Josh issue and changing the conversation topic.

On Mandy’s wedding day, Anastasia woke up very early at Barbara's place. The first rays of sunlight made their way through the curtains which made her regret drinking so much the night before. It was hard to get out of bed but she did, took a shower, grabbed a pair of jeans and a t-shirt with a pair of sneakers and went downstairs where Barbara was feeding the twins.

- I just had a dejà-vu - She said looking at her big sister.

- Are you going to the venue? - Barbara asked.

- Yes. I'm pretty sure Mandy didn't sleep at all - the blue haired girl answered.

- I will get ready here, wait for the babysitter Anthony is gonna bring and then I’ll leave for the mansion.

- Okay! - An gave Barbara a kiss on the cheek, and one to each twin - See ya later! I love you! - She said walking out the door.

Mandy was going to get married at Malibu. She and Peyton rented a huge and beautiful mansion overlooking a cliff from where you could see all the seashore. They would have the ceremony there, the place also had access to a private beach.

Anastasia drove there to find a huge amount of people setting everything up and decorating. There was pink and blue flowers everywhere, the colors were because their friendship - Peyton didn't really care about it - and shiny, sparkly things all over the place, crystals, glitter, everything.

She walked upstairs to the main bedroom which was set up with a huge makeup and hair station.

- I'm about to throw up - Mandy was lying in a giant bed.

- Don't be so overdramatic - Anastasia jumped next to her - It should be one of the happiest days of your life, relax!

- No, I actually have morning sickness - Mandy said.

- Oh, fuck!

- Richard sent me a huge, beautiful flower arrangement - Mandy said.

- Really? - Anastasia wasn't expecting that but it showed her how good of a gentleman Richard was.

- And a Congratulations card.

- Now I feel bad - Anastasia said- Richard was so good to me. What if he was the one and I let him slip away?

- No, he wasn't. Your one is gonna be here tonight.

- It’s time to go - Anastasia got up from the bed – Is there any food downstairs? I'm starving.

- You’re kidding, right? There's food like for an army! Let's go!

After eating some delicious buns with cheese and garlic the chef was making, the girls started to get ready. Hannah was the other bridesmaid and Mandy's mom was there too to get her hair and makeup done.

When it was time to see Mandy with her wedding dress, nobody could hold back the tears.

- You don't even know why you’re crying! -Mandy laughed.

- Because you look beautiful! - Mandy's mom said.

- I look beautiful all the time and I have never seen you crying about it! - She was still laughing.

Mandy's pink hair had 50’s vibe waves, and her dress was strapless with handmade embroidered appliqué. Makeup was natural. She looked beautiful. The shoes were blue and you could read “Wifey for life” on the soles. The veil was a showstopper, it had more embroidered ornaments, including two blue birds carrying a ribbon from where you could read “And they lived happily ever after”.

Anastasia, on the other hand, wore a pale pink dress with a deep cleavage and embroidered stars all over, her midnight blue hair was up in a messy bun.

The walk to the aisle was the weirdest thing An ever did. She was accompanied by the best man, Peyton's childhood friend from Colorado. All the eyes were on Mandy when it was her turn to make appear on the set of the ceremony. The last light of the day painted the sky and her pink hair was shining. Anastasia saw Peyton's jaw dropping to the floor.

An also gave a look to the assistants; she saw Chad, Flea and Anthony next to Barbara, Nick - her father, who always saw Mandy as another daughter- Mark and Steph. She also saw Eric, Nick and Jonathan. She saw many of their high school friends, some musician friends and then there he was, sitting on the fifth row, behind Anthony. His hair was straightened and he was wearing a tux in his right size. Next to him was his sister Kelly and some guys from The Getaway tour, they made a lot of friends there. Josh’s eyes were completely on Anastasia, he wasn't hiding it. She smiled and waved, he smiled and waved back. And there she was again, looking at the true love of his life.

The ceremony was longer than expected so when the Minister said the phrase “You may kiss the bride” it was a relief for everyone. It was time to party. Anastasia talked to almost everyone in the party. She danced with Mandy and with Nick, announced a huge surprise for the bride: she managed to get the Backstreet Boys to perform, Mandy's favorite childhood band, and then –as in a wedding full of musicians– some guests grabbed instruments and put together an improvised band, Chad and Mark among the members. Of course, they played every cover people requested.

It was so much fun. Anastasia wasn't avoiding Josh but maybe he was because they didn't cross paths in the entire evening. At one moment Mandy decided to pick up the microphone to say some things.

- Hello everyone! - She was so happy - Y'all know how I don't like to be on a stage - she said sarcastically and everyone laughed - and thank God I have one on my own wedding. I wanna thank everyone for being here and celebrating this obvious step of our relationship after eight years together. I couldn't imagine sharing my life with anybody else and I'm so lucky I found true love so early in life and without the hard work that it implies - She looked at Peyton who was next to her- But we are not only celebrating our wedding today - Anastasia smiled wide and looked at Nick because she wanted to see his face, he was going to be so excited to be an uncle - but also the begging of our family and I want to inform all that if I treated you like trash and screamed you during this weeks is because I have a baby in my belly and you are going to have to deal with that for another eight months.

Nick's jaw fell to the floor and Mandy's mom started to cry. Everyone was so happy for them and ran to hug them and congratulate them. Anastasia saw the perfect opportunity to step out and walked downstairs to the private beach the Mansion had. The moonshine reflected on the water and it made it look like glitter. She started to think about everything that just happened and how unlikely it would be to happen to her. Her heart was Josh's and she couldn't carry a child inside her; she started to cry thinking that something was always going to be missing from her life.

She looked at the shore and cried, like she hadn’t cried in a long time. She looked at the sky and back to the horizon, then she felt a pair of arms around her.

- I'm sorry to be crying at your wedding- she said turning herself thinking it was Mandy but no, it was Josh. She was so shocked the tears stopped running.

- Weddings can get a bit emotional, especially when the bride's pregnant - Josh said hugging her. She felt such relieve with those arms around her that she hugged him too. It was always the same, Josh breaks her heart and then appears giving her love and she forgot about the past.

- Yeah. A thing that will not happen to me - She said.

- Being pregnant at your wedding? - Josh said smiling, Anastasia melted watching him doing that - It can happen if you plan it.

- Being pregnant in general.

- How come? - Josh looked at her without breaking the hug and she remembered that she never told Josh she wasn't fertile, now she had to.

- I never told you this, because I don't really talk about it, but my reproductive system doesn’t work well and I'm not fertile, I can't be a mother - surprisingly for her, Josh hugged her tightly and then carry her to sit in the sand.

- You can be a mother, there's some other ways, adoption or even a surrogate.

- Would you like that the woman you marry can't carry your own child inside of her?

- It’s the 21st century, I can live with that. It will be our child no matter what - Those words went straight into Anastasia's heart.

- You need to stop being so damn perfect - Josh smiled.

- I'm not. You are and yet I'm always letting you go - Anastasia just shrugged - I don't want to give you the same speech I'm always giving you, how many times can I be sorry about my behavior towards you? - Anastasia opened her mouth to speak but Josh shut her up - Let me do the talking this time. When I heard about your break up with Richard I told myself that this was the time, it was it, no more fear, no more delays, I want you and I want you now. I love you, Anastasia, and I was always sure of that and part of not being able to be with you was my fear of losing you. But I lost you so many times I decided I'm not going to be afraid of the future, I just want to enjoy the rest of my days with you next to me. I want to wake up and see you, I want to sleep with you in my arms, I want to be with you and adopt a child together. I'm ready, I'm not afraid anymore.

Anastasia was speechless, what could she possibly say? Her dream was finally coming true and Josh was all there for her, she couldn't believe it.

- I know it’s going to be hard for you to believe I'm not gonna run away again - He continued talking - And I can't ask you to believe me, I'm just going to show you. Let me show you.

An kissed him. She couldn't resist it. As much as her dress let her, she jumped over him and kissed him, long and deep kisses. She felt little smiles in his face between kisses and that made her smile too; both started to laugh and stopped the kissing session to look at each other.

- How did you know I was here? - She asked.

- Before the wedding started I took a walk around, I found this access to the beach and thought it was a great place to escape from people for a moment. I was looking for you at the party and couldn't find you so I just knew you were here - They were so alike.

- I love you, Josh. I never stopped loving you and I never will. You are my other half and even if you run away I know you are going to make your way back to my arms and I'll be here, waiting for you because there's no other man I want by my side - she started to cry and Josh wiped the tears from her cheeks with his long fingers, then hugged her again.

- You know? I keep the book you gave me at Christmas on a shelf in my room and I look at it every night before sleep and every morning when I wake up to make sure I never forget you - Anastasia gave him a short kiss this time.

Both got up and Anastasia tried to clean her dress, it was all covered in sand, Josh helped her as both laughed.

- I know you maybe don't want a big wedding or don't want a wedding at all - He knew her so well - But would you accept being with me the rest of our days on Earth?

- I really thought I would never hear those words from your mouth - She said.

- Well, never is a long time - Anastasia smiled at him for quoting his own songs - but it happens in the end.

- I don't know what's going to happen in a year, five or forty, I'm just sure that I want to see your face, and hug your body and kiss your lips until I die.

Josh kissed her again, a deep kiss, a meaningful one, this wasn't a death kiss, it was a forever kiss.

#Josh Klinghoffer #JoshKlinghoffer #Josh Klinghoffer fanfic #Josh Klinghoffer fanfiction #fanfic #fan fic #fanfiction #fan fiction #Klinghoffer #Red Hote Chili Peppers #redhotchilipeppers #rhcp #JoshAn #never is a long time

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mayhemories · 8 years ago

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Braids & War Paint (Part 2)

Notes on:

Part 1:

Part 3:

Part 4:

Rowan Whitethorn had been many places, he’s traveled to every direction, climbed a plethora of mountains, has lived in cities that are nothing more than dirt now and nothing he’s seen will compare to the wildness of Terrasen and it’s people. Wild in the fact the citizens of Terrasen have such a connection to their home, the air is cleaner when everyone cares for it. It reminded him of Mistward.

Galan Ashryver had not expected Rowan’s presence on this journey, Queen Maeve wanted to send someone wrapped in her flag, to try and “mend broken relations” between her and her kin across the sea. Rowan Whitethorn was utterly sick of Doneralle and volunteered to leave. He was so anxious to see the capital that Rowan pushed their traveling party forward with intense wind. Their horses made it in record time, apparently.

The Galathynius’ were…nice. Orlon and Rhoe were very charming, very warm to their guests- Rowan included. But it was the Terrasen Ashryver’s that surprised him, Evalin had all the same features that Galan too carried. Save for hair. Aedion Ashryver was a spitting image of Galan, though his hair was fair like his Aunt. And Gods, the two bloodlines that made Aelin Ashryver Galathynius of the Wildfire. Tall, lean, extended fae limbs. She was impeccably beautiful, she knew it too. Long golden hair, golden skin, chiseled features. She was all muscle under velvet skin… and those eyes, the Ashryver eyes of legend old, blue with the core of gold. Rowan decided that she wore those eyes the best.

As the kin talked throughout luncheon Rowan kept quiet, eating cocktail sandwiches and drinking bubbled water. He’s focus seemed to stray from the conversation a lot, his eyes wandered and they always found her again. Sometimes she would catch his gaze, smirk and return back to the conversation. Rowan has had serious lovers in the past, he’s had flings and one night stands but never has he felt the feeling of intrigue. She intrigued him, it wasn’t even in a romantic way. The way the Crown Princess conducted herself was like nothing Rowan had ever seen, her opinion was there to be heard. She laid her deck of cards for everyone too see, even a chosen warrior from a broken kin. He’s never seen so much metal strapped to a royal so casually, no Terrasen guard seemed alarmed. A belt of daggers were strapped around her waist, a golden sword at her left hip, cuffs of small knives sat snugly at her thin wrists. Rowan was taken aback by how much of his thoughts were revolving around the princess. Though, Rowan didn’t try to change his train of thought.

“Your quarters, Prince Rowan.” Rowan thanked the young maid before she quickly skited off.

They weren’t modest quarters, the bedroom was airy and decorated with whites, greys and rich greens. Rowan ran his hand across the light stone walls that reflected the sun around the room. He dropped his luggage on the dark wooden floors with a thud. A large four poster bed sat against the eastern wall, a desk, an eating table and a large armoire were placed in the room, all made out of the same dark wood. The washroom was double the size of his Doneralle one, a large tub made out of light stone that had been polished so that Rowan could see his face in it. Large basin, large mirror… everything was oversize and grand and overwhelming.

Satisfied with his new quarters, Rowan sat at the writing desk and began to pen a letter to his queen. It was a short synopsis about travel, the cities he’s seen and of course the royal family. He couldn’t have been more than two paragraphs in until a laugh like a crackling fire in the winter filled his ears, it was warm and inviting giggle that he could only peg to one woman.

Rowan ripped open the curtains by his shoulders, white doors that lead to a balcony stared back at him. Before Rowan knew what he was doing the balcony doors opened and he stepped out. No more than five feet away sat Aelin Galathynius, reading on her own balcony. Her room was directly across the way from Rowan’s. Mab, Mora and Maeve burn him.

“Hello neighbor! No one has been in that room in a long time.” The Princess said, folding a corner of her page down and placing the novel on the table near her. A massive golden hound was curled at her feat, the both of them soaking up the last few hours of the late afternoon sun.

"You might be disappointed, I have a reputation of being a bad neighbour.“ Rowan quipped, leaning against the railing. They would have to be at least sixteen levels up. They were the top, there were no other balconies overhead.

"I’ll be the judge of that. I’ve never lived in close quarters with a brooding fae warrior.” To his dismay, Rowan smirked at her charming voice…more the comment than her but the lines blur somewhere.

“I would argue that your cousin seems to be of the brooding type.” The banter flowed effortlessly between the two, she laughed again at the blow of her cousin, Aedion Ashryver, The Wolf of the Wild North.

“Wait til’ dinner, there isn’t room for two Ashryver males in this castle.” Her long legs were clothed in tight black pants, they seemed to go on for miles as she walked closer to her own railing, leaning against it, mimicking Rowan’s earlier actions.

"I don’t think I can handle a pissing contest.“

"Are you sure you won’t join in? After all, it’ll be a contest over my attention.” Rowan rolled his eyes, he forgets how young they all are; Galan, the oldest out of the bunch was a steely twenty-five, Aedion was twenty-three and Aelin was only just eighteen. He expected her to be much older. It embarrassed Rowan how little he knew of Terrasen and their rulers.

"I’m your neighbor now, aren’t I? I’ll have your attention more often.“ Aelin’s eyes burned with something Rowan hadn’t seen in a long time, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Pushing off her rail, the princess collected her book and whistled up her hound, Fleetfoot and walked to her door. Rowan stayed dead still, as if she was a doe he’d scare away. She turned and faced him at the twin of his door.

"It’s been interesting, Prince Rowan. Terrasen welcomes you.” And Rowan didn’t know whether it was him or the moment or his tiredness, but he called out to her before she crossed into her threshold of gossamer curtains.

“Rowan. Just Rowan.”

The last thing he saw was her heart cleaving smile. Rowan decided that he would own a letter to Fenrys too, let him know of the golden jewel he found in the antler crown of the Wild North.

Aelin loved fashion, adored fabrics and dresses. Just enjoyed dressing up, even when there was no real event to get dressed up for. But now, Aelin had her excuse, they had company. Important company that she should impress, Galan’s trip is very diplomatic after all. Fixing severed ties and all that… It didn’t help that a very handsome fae warrior was on her door step.

When Aelin was in Eyllwe learning more about the country she met the Crown Princess, Nehemia Ytger. Nehemia is only a year older than herself, they had become best friends instantaneously. For Aelin’s recent name day, Nehemia had sent a dress for Aelin, she was saving it for something big, but Aelin had very little self restraint.

She dressed in the emerald green of Terrasen’s forests, it was intricate dress that had been hand made for her. Chiffon that fell into small pleats, the waistband had a large metal embellishment to draw your eyes down from the ropes that held the bodice together. It was art, physical art that Aelin draped over her lean body.

Aelin’s chambermaids braided her long hair, she wore it like this when she went into battle or was training, though, she supposed, the dinning room would be as tense as a battlefield. All the lords and ladies sweating bucketloads under the gaze of Rowan Whitethorn.

“Well don’t you look devastating.” Aelin’s best friend, Lady Lysandra of Caraverre stated, linking the two girls’ arms as the walked down the winding halls to the dining room. Lysandra was a young shapeshifter who Aelin hated grotesquely when they were younger, until the battles against the Yellowlegs did Aelin and Lysandra connect. They fought side by side, for a long while Aelin suspected the carranam bond between them. Nothing came to pass besides a beautifully strong friendship.

“As do you, who are you impressing?” Lysandra had her dark locks curled and pined up in a cornet, wearing a navy embellished dress, that flowed to her ankles, her lips were painted a dark scarlet.

“I’m not impressing anyone, just causing Aedion to fall in love with me all over again.” They laughed together as the dining room’s massive oak doors opened, they were the last to arrive.

Aelin’s uncle sat at the head of the table, her parents on either side of him. To Aelin’s Dismay, Galan was sitting in the seat opposite her own, the Far prince was further down the table, near Lord Allsbrook and Lady Elide.

Aelin took her seat, and the serving began.

“You look lovely.” Galan smiled at her from across the table. She thanked him, the sound of boredom dripped off her tongue and soon after Aelin felt the little pinch on her leg, her mother retracted her hand from her thigh liked nothing happened. It was a warning Aelin had since she was a child: Play nice.

Playing nice wasn’t Aelin’s forte.

“Your journey must have been long.” Aelin stated, Galan looked almost confused that she was making direct conversation with him. She placed her elbow on the table, propping her head on her open palm.

“I-uh…yes. The ocean became very isolating.” Galen stuttered, Aelin leaned forward, almost urging him to go on without words. Her parents and her uncle’s attention were now peaked by the topic.

From the corner of her eye a certain fae prince had the tips of his sensitive ears twitching. Listening in on the blandest conversation Aelin had anything to do with, Dorian Havilliard’s cooking had more godsdamned flavour than this dinner party.

“We had an Mycenian escort off the coast of Terrasen.” Galan smiled again, his dark eyebrows shot up when doing so.

“Our precious Aelin stitched up the Terrasen ties with the Mycenians, if it weren’t for her you would’ve had no escort.” Orlon quipped, the whole table was listening now, even though the loudest noise in the room was the cutlery.

Aelin realised that Galan expected her to be…embarrassed, blushing maybe?

Smug was a better word for it, the princess leaned back in her ornate chair, she’d encouraged the talk about her, besides, ‘Aelin’ was the best topic Aelin could think of.

“Oh really, that must have been a very tense conversation.” Aelin shook her head, Galan was too much of a politician.

“I used threats and force. It wasn’t a conversation at all.”

With that statement, Aelin looked to her right, Rowan Whitethorn raised an eyebrow.

Aelin winked back.

AN: this is slow and boring but I really want to take my time with Aelin and Rowan in this fic, I’m so sorry if they seem OOC but… too late now I’m committed to this story. Yeah, The whole thing will be from alternating POV’s. Please tell me your thoughts and ideas about this fic, message me, let me know! Anyways, thank you for the support. Much love,

-El.

#throne of glass #throne of glass au #throne of glass fan fiction #throne of glass fanfiction #aelin galathynius #aelin ashryver #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #lysandra #aedion ashryver #aedion x lysandra #elide lochan #dorian havilliard #Braids & War Paint #Nehemia Ytger

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lesbijkas · 8 years ago

Text

Love Sucks

pairing: none, unrequited love; Sirius & Remus-centric

word count: 1.8 k

summary:

“We’ve talked before. I know it’s hard-”

“Fucking hell, Remus, not this again-”

Hearts are broken. Love comes too late.

read on ao3/original posts: 1 & 2

[pt. i; broken]

Remus sighed. It was inaudible, and his face was behind his arms, so no one could tell he had sighed, but he sighed nonetheless. He watched as Sirius watched James, who was watching Lily, who was reading in one of the overstuffed chairs in a light grey sweater that Snape had gifted her the previous year. She was probably studying for their OWLs, which Remus had been trying to do, but the air was too palpable with longing to get anything done.

How Lily hadn’t noticed and wacked James over the head with her book was a mystery. Peter gave him an answer in the form of a soft snore, cheek crushed up against the table they were studying at. Were supposed to be studying at.

Merlin, love sucked.

Remus sighed again.

Eventually, the fire dimmed. Students stated walking up to their dorms. Remus nudged Peter awake. James snapped out of his blinkless gazing when Lily snapped her book shut before walking towards the girls’ dormitory. Sirius blinked once, then twice, quickly looking down to his mostly blank parchment.

They trudged upstairs together. Peter closed his curtains almost as soon as he changed and said goodnight. Remus changed into his sleep pants and watched out of the corner of his eye as James grabbed his towel and shampoo so he could take a shower. Sirius had settled onto his bed, a book open on his lap as his fingers subconsciously picked at the edge of his ratty sleep shirt.

When the bathroom door clicked shut and locked, Remus went around his bed to sit on Sirius’. Remus closed the curtains, quickly setting a silencing charm, all the while ignoring Sirius’ look. His book was now closed, hands tucked under his thighs.

They sat across from each other, Remus at the foot with Sirius’ back against the headboard, neither willing to break the silence. Sirius fidgeted. Remus’ fingers twitched.

“So, what’s up?” Sirius finally asked.

Remus didn’t respond right away.

“Sirius…”

Sirius frowned.

“We’ve talked before. I know it’s hard-”

“Fucking hell, Remus, not this again-”

“Sirius Black!” he hissed out, causing the other to freeze. “I wish more than anyone that I could help you, but there is nothing either one of us can do. You are hurting yourself and I can’t just sit and watch.”

“I’m fine Moony, do I look like I’m hurting?” he asked, trying to brush off Remus. Like the last time. And the time before that.

“James is not gay Sirius. He isn’t now and he isn’t going to be. He has had a crush on Lily for years. He asks her out at least once a week. He calls you his brother in everything but blood- and even then his mother is your aunt! You need to-”

“I need to what Remus?” Sirius finally cut him off, expression filling with anguish and the knowledge of how unfair it all was. “What do you want me to do? Bury my feelings until I’m choking? Give up and move on? Don’t tell me to give up like everything is meaningless. What I feel is, is,” but he stopped, teeth clenching.

“What you feel is real. I have never doubted that Sirius, and I never will. James wouldn’t either. But, you also know he won’t return your feelings. Even if he wants to, he won’t. He can’t.”

Sirius opened his mouth to argue, like he always did. He didn’t speak, like he had begun to do. He cried, like he never had. His body racked with sobs, face going a splotchy red as tears dripped down his cheeks to his chin, hands going up to tug at his ever growing hair.

“I know, and it isn’t fair,” he choked out. Remus didn’t say anything more, not yet. He only shifted, and Sirius threw himself at Remus without a verbal invitation.

Remus' shoulder grew damp as Sirius gripped the back of his shirt, tears soaking into the fabric. Remus reached up to rub his back, straighten his hair, something, but the curtain on the bed shifted. Someone was knocking. Most likely James.

Sirius sat up when Remus gave his shoulder a squeeze. They separated, Sirius’ face seeming to pale in the low light. The curtain moved again.

Remus climbed out the other side and Sirius shut the curtains without needing any prompting. James’ head popped over the end of the bed, hair wet with a devious smile. He took in Remus’ rumpled shirt and the fact that Sirius wasn’t coming out as something else.

“Ha!” he exclaimed, pausing dramatically to point a finger directly in between Remus’ eyes, “I always knew there was something.”

Remus spluttered.

“What?”

“What do you mean what? You two would make a cute couple. Shit, if I swung that way, maybe we could all do some kinky stuff. I bet Sirius is totally into bondage,” James spoke as if it was an everyday occurrence, not a worry in his world. Remus swallowed, then let out a laugh.

“We’re not a couple Prongs. Quit joking around and go to bed. We have potions first thing tomorrow.”

James made a face before taking a running leap at his own bed. He left one curtain open, leg swinging over the side, as he finally settled down for bed. Remus didn’t stand around to watch however. He closed both of his curtains like Sirius and Peter, laying flat out on his back, heart pounding away in his chest.

He and Sirius weren’t a couple.

Sirius didn’t like Remus that way.

Remus let out a breath, not quite a sigh, as he let an arm come to rest over his eyes. His fist clenched. He bit his lip.

“Fuck.”

Love sucked.

[pt. ii; late]

“I’ll see you next week Remus.”

“Stay safe Tonks.”

Tonks snorted, as if Voldemort wasn’t back and Remus’ worries were just that, worries. Unfounded and ridiculous. She only smiled, a softer look than her usual glee filled smirk, before she walked outside and apparated away. Many of the Order members followed her out, going their separate ways to continue on as if nothing was amiss.

Sure, they talked about Voldemort during meetings. For the rest of the time, it was like playing a game of who could avoid the topic the most. Which, hey, it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. If the only thing any of them talked about was Voldemort then it would get extremely depressing, and fast. Still, Remus couldn’t help but feeling hypocritical. (Even if it was only slightly so.)

Hogwarts had been in session for a little under a month. Harry’s trial had gone okay(ish), Delores Umbridge had been appointed the DADA teacher, Sirius was growing restless cooped up in the house he swore he would never step foot in again, and Kreacher had only sneered at Remus twice that day. All in all, nothing was too bad, but nothing was all that good either.

Remus repressed the urge to sigh, as he was prone to do, as he made his way back into the kitchen. Miss Black’s portrait stayed silent. The floorboards creaked with each step he took. The kitchen door was still propped open, and Sirius sat at one end of the long table in silence.

Remus sat down across from him, not know what to say, or if he should even say anything. Sirius was worried. Worried about Britain’s affairs. About what he was going to do. About Harry, who needed all the help he could get.

Sirius’ eyes were rather blank. They usually were now, unless he was directly engaged in a conversation. Even then, it took something significant. His whole expression, no, his entire self had lit up when Harry had been present. He would grin crookedly at Snape when they got into (childish) arguments. He would smile every time Remus returned from a mission away.

Sirius shifted. His hunched over, haunted posture straightened out as he placed his hands on top of the table silently. He looked at Remus, swallowed, then looked away. Nothing was said for a few more minutes. Remus was content with quiet company after, well, everything. He knew Sirius felt the same way.

“Do you think you could fall back in love with me?”

It was spoken out of the blue. Remus didn’t, couldn’t, respond. Sirius was meeting Remus’ gaze, eyes ablaze and wild. Feral. Something else entirely.

“I understand if you couldn’t, you know; I never even bothered to try to return your feelings or see if there could ever be an us during school when-” but he didn’t finish. He didn’t need to.

‘When James was alive’ could always, and would always, be left unsaid.

“I think he always thought we’d be good together, that we understood each other. But, Dora really likes you, even if you don’t want to see it, so,” and he finally let the conversation trail off.

Remus didn’t think he was breathing.

“I’ve been thinking, and I remember how you used to look at me. It was just like how I pinned after James for years- Godric, I was a dick. I never even noticed. But you’d get this warmth in your eyes and this tone in your voice sometimes, and it was beautiful Remus.”

Remus’ gaze was glued to the table, eyes unblinking.

“You were, are, beautiful. And, I never even noticed or thought about it until all of our lives went to shit. You just, you’re, you deserve so much. This is stupid. I’m sorry,” Sirius finally cut himself off, moving to stand and most likely leave the room.

Remus shot his hand out, grabbing onto the cuff of Sirius’ robes. Sirius stilled, looking down at Remus’ hand with confusion. Some hope. Remus didn’t know what he was doing, what he was supposed to say.

“I…”

Sirius’ hand curled into a loose fist.

“I don’t think I ever could in good conscience.”

Quickly, hope was replaced. Resigned expectedness, acceptance, devastation.

“I thought you betrayed them for over a decade. I thought, no, I knew that you would never love me like you loved James Potter. And now, after everything we’ve gone through and everything else that is going on, it wouldn’t be right.”

Sirius jerkily nodded, swallowing again, “That’s understandable.”

“But, Sirius, I never want you to think I don’t think the world of you.”

He only let a half formed smile onto his face, somber and understanding. He took Remus’ hand, which had still hung loosely on his cuff, to card their fingers together.

“I know.”

Remus felt relief. Then surprise.

Sirius pulled him up, too quickly to stop anything, and kissed him. It wasn’t long, only a few seconds with the press of lips on lips. Sirius’ were chapped, thin on the bottom, and gentle. He let Remus’ hand go as soon as he pulled back before walking out of the room, not saying another word.

Remus remained standing for an unknown time, his fingers coming up to touch his mouth with cloudy eyes.

‘You two would make a cute couple.’

“Oh Sirius.”

He slumped back down into his seat, putting his head in his hands with swimming thoughts and a churning stomach.

‘You deserve so much.’

“So do you.”

#jirius #prongsfoot #wolfstar #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #James Potter #all tagged pairings are unrequited and I'm honestly sorry. this fic is depressing tbh #even so #these were interesting to write tbh!! like. wowie #please read/reblog if you can!!! tysm #fikcja #hp: Sirius #hp: Remus #hp: James

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courtorderedcake · 5 years ago

Text

Hallow : ch XIII - CSSNS 2019

Read on AO3 here.

Rated E for explicit themes, Mature situations, and Fae fuckery.

Written for @cssns

Ch 8 / ?? - In which a true apology is given

*** ARCHIVE WARNINGS VERY MUCH APPLY FOR THIS CHAPTER. PLEASE READ WITH DISCRETION.

The Darkness was roiling mad, a furious mass of thorns that exploded in his rib cage and up through his spine. It ripped threw his head, his shoulders tightening as it dug in like a macabre torture device of old. He kept trying to explain, trying to make it understand his reasoning, but it only howled like a wolf outside the sheep pen -

YOU HAVE NO REASONING FOR WHAT YOU HAVE DONE, YOU STUPID MAN!

She had to be well in order to fight long enough to survive for Nil; to not just hang herself while the Dagger melted silver down her clavicle.

DO YOU NOT REMEMBER OUR JOINING, OUR PACT? HOW TO ACT WITH FINESSE, TO BREAK SOMEONE WITHOUT EXERTING PRESSURE, OR HOW TO PUSH THEM OVER THE EDGE?

Calling for Alice and asking her to go to Emma's aid was a good thing strategically, and her actually appearing like some sort of fogged looking glass apparition he summoned was a blessing

YOU COULD HAVE FOLLOWED MY SIMPLE PLAN FOR YOU TO PUSH HER WHILE SHE WAS BREAKING!

The voice changed in timbre and tone as it sometimes did, easily digging its points home. Killian could practically see his father, drunk and dismissive, shouting at Liam and beating them both bloody under one of the massive pines. The memory of watching Liam with a broken jaw as he went into his first year in the junior naval recruits was the one it dug its claws into, the Darkness fueling old anger and shame.

YOU SAW HER HIDE FROM YOU, YOU COULD HAVE EASILY WORKED YOUR WAY UNDER HER SKIN AND GOTTEN HER FOLLOWING YOU TO NIL. YOU COULD HAVE EVEN PRESSED FOR THE SHARD, IF SHE WAS TRULY AT HER WIT'S END - INSTEAD YOU TRIP OVER YOUR TONGUE LIKE A BOY! AN IMBECILE!

It pressed him, but he was not weak. He could crush his father ten times over now if the bastard wasn't dead, and no one could get under his skin again. Certainly not some crying woman, especially the daughter of an enemy, and such a valuable card to hold in play if he wanted to be free. Maybe he had told Alice too much about his worries over Emma, while Robyn watched with bewildered dismay. Maybe he blurted how she was acting, and they thought that he was showing weakness or worry. Imagined of course, there was nothing -

SHE BEWITCHES YOU INTO SYMPATHETIC STUPOR, SHE FILLS YOU WITH IDEAS OF REDEMPTION YOU DO NOT DESERVE, YOU ARE SO CLOSE TO YOUR REVENGE, OUR REVENGE, AND YOU FAIL ME. I MUST PUNISH YOU, I MUST HURT YOU.

He braced himself; the pain of broken bones as he folded into himself was enough to make him wish for true death.

I WISH YOU WERE DEAD, FREEING MYSELF FROM YOUR INEPTITUDE WOULD BE A BLESSING WELL MET WITH YOUR DEATH.

They both knew it was fruitless, the idea impossible while the dagger was still broken. He would survive the pain, and the Darkness would greet him in its vengeance without fail. With eyes closed tightly, he braced himself for what was to come.

Instead of pain, though, it cackled, and Killian felt more fear than before.

Oh yes, feel that fear, Dearie. No more physical pain for today. You mentioned strategy - I have a strategic plan for you, regarding a fitting punishment; the sort worthy of this sort of betrayal. You've been misbehaving without consequences too long now, your leash forgotten. Do you remember when you failed to stop Snow Margueryte and her Charming? Do you remember how I tormented you for your failure?

Killian shook his head in horror. Not that.

Oh yes, that. It's time for your nightmare. I'll provide you mercy and heal you first… Be patient, for when I'm done we'll begin my favorite game with you. We haven't played in such a long time…

His bones began to knit back together, cracking into place noisily and sloppily. Emma's voice suddenly echoed into his chamber, breaking through the Darkness' cackling.

"Dark One!" She was blazing with rage and light magic, Killian barely able to stand upright at her advance. The Darkness felt licks of her fury strike, its yowls of pain as it hid itself away a bitter requiem of relief.

Killian gritted his teeth as he adjusted his frame to lean against the wall, his body still healing slowly even as the Darkness exited. "Princess?" he rasped.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she shrieked; he thought she might move to strike him, to hear the venom with which she spat the question out. "You went through Ariel? Through Alice and Robyn? Through Eric and Marta? Did you think that I would not find out immediately or that they would not tell me of your attempt at deceit? What information did you hope you could squeeze from them while I was dealing with the consequences of my failures? You already know all of them, what could you possibly use against me now?"

He winced, and not all from pain. A vague guilt that had a name - remorse perhaps?

“That wasn't the reason, I didn't - I wanted to -"

"I don't want anything to do with you. How many times do I have to -" Emma's magic hit him again, his corroded mind practically melting as her magic burnt the Darkness where it attempted to remain stuck to his bones. His knees wobbled.

"Emma, I just need you to know -"

Emma interrupted as he tried to take a breath, sweat beading on his forehead. "No. No, you don't need me to, you want me to. Big difference, buddy, and I have a choice in whether or not I listen. I don't want to listen."

His voice sounded small to his own ears. "I just want to know that you're okay."

Emma laughed, her eyes wild and teeth bared. "You know that I'm okay, that I am just dealing with a war, deaths, betrayals, figuring out who to trust and who isn't a monster. You've known I was alright since I left you, since I didn't come back - it's you who isn't alright. You’re scared. I don't blame you for it either; I can't imagine how it must feel to be unable to make your own choices, but I am not and cannot be your crutch. Find someone else."

Nodding, he scrubbed his face, and then carded his hand through his hair. "I thought - Never mind. Please just - You'll have to take care of yourself to survive. Keep yourself safe, and the shard; talk to Ursula and Ariel, alright? I was - I thought they might be concerned for you, and I am sorry for bothering them. And you. That's all. Nothing else."

Marta poked her head in, clearing her throat. "Uh, Killian. Ursula has a ship ready for you, and she's requested that you leave immediately. I've offered to go with you part of the way to make sure you don't do anything else untoward."

Emma snorted, spitefully. "Thanks Marta. Sorry you got the short straw."

Marta sighed. "Princess, do you need me to -"

"I'm fine," Emma snapped. "Just about done here." Marta gave a nod, taking her leave.

"I'm going to leave then," Killian said.

"Good. If we never meet again it will be too soon."

"If it means anything, I'm glad you are safe. I'm glad the shard is safe. I am glad you are with people who can help you, and who are… good at protecting you. I don't - you don't have to worry if they are trustworthy, and they won't fail you. Goodbye, Princess."

"Farewell, Dark One."

He walked in a daze to the place where his ship waited, uncaring and unaware of the Selkies booing him, the food and trash thrown at him, of Ursula, Eric, Ariel, Alice, and Robyn watching his trek out of the caves with Emma. He stared, Eric and Ariel openly glaring, Robyn giving him the same squinted look of confusion that she had previously, and Alice too busy talking to Emma.

To distract her from him. A dull heaviness pushed down on his shoulders, weight settling in his stomach.

Marta was already waiting for him on the ship, a look of pity for him on her face. "Ready?" she inquired softly. He nodded, and they drew anchor. The ship moved through the calm water, everything quiet as they departed, including the voices that made up the Darkness.

The portal out was a one way exit, the ship's wheel in his hands a steadying comfort. They caught the breeze, leaving the tranquility of the underwater oasis and sailing off the proverbial edge of Ursula's world to land in stormy waters.

He had to blink a few times as a bright green bolt of blinding lightning cracked in the heavens. The storm was massive, and he followed its course along the horizon, seeing an armada skirting a hurricane before it hit something unseen, the clouds breaking apart. Killian ran to the stern, Marta joining him with a hand over her mouth.

Ursula's caves flickered into view, appearing like a great bubble from the sea floor by some otherworldly force. As the caves crested the surface, the protective forces that had been shielding the caves broke with a resounding force, the huge crash as they struck the surface to sink again sending a shockwave through the water. Their ship pitched back and forth as they held steady to her moorings; the water had become a roiling mess of waves from the magic radiating off of the fleet in the distance. Green lightning struck the water all around it, and even from their distance Killian could see floating carcasses and the mass of birds seeking carrion, the water a sickly olive color. The storm began again, and Killian brought the spyglass in his pocket to his eye to examine the strangest fleet of mismatched ships Killian had ever seen, and tethered at its front was the cause of this destruction - King of the Merfolk, the previous King of the Sea: Ursula's brother, Triton.

Shuddering in disbelief of the King's fate, even if deserved, Killian tried to map and count the plan of attack from their positions. Frigates, sloops, and even a few galleons were interspersed with metal rusting boats in styles Killian had never seen. The largest was something Elsa had called a barge, and it led the ships as the storm beat around them, the towering man with a large, dirty, grey beard at the lead. Focusing with a twist, he surveyed Triton further. The partial God was bruised and emaciated, held by a golden collar around his neck that linked to the barge with its towering blocks of rectangular metal boxes. Following the chain from the man’s collar to a raised dais that lay on a deck, Neal lounged nearby in a windowed observation level, looking bemused. Triton was under the control of the prince, his powers controlled by Nil's desire to possess Emma.

But they would never, never get through to Ursula -

Triton waved a large trident around, and the storm sparked with green and purple electricity. Ursula's secret realm lurched into view again as he spun the weapon with skill, before it sunk below in another huge crash. Their ship creaked ominously as the waves sent them flying. Triton bellowed loudly, making Marta whimper next to Killian.

"We have to go back," Marta whispered, watching Killian close the spyglass.

"Go back? For what, the pleasure of being ripped apart by Goblins and a demi-god? She doesn't want me there, what good -"

Marta slapped him hard, changing from a highborn prim matron to the visage of a livid sorceress.

"Stop thinking about yourself for one damned minute, you narcissistic clam! Even if that is the Darkness in you, recognize that this is bigger than you or your princess - my friend and my people are about to be slaughtered. I know what you did. I know how you exploded over that fleet like some sort of comet, and how you screamed the entire time begging for forgiveness. I was there in the water, before and after. I watched you kill those men, I saw them die; it took days to get the blood out of my pelt. Are you really going to let that happen again? Even if they aren't your people?"

Remembering the Darkness and its threat of reliving his worst nightmares, Killian paused. A spark lit his chest into a blaze.

"If you wanted to die so badly, you could not have chosen a more reckless bastard willing to assist." He turned the ship, heading straight towards Triton and the Goblin fleet.

What are you doing?!

Killian felt the Darkness wake again, still weakened. Reading his thoughts, it quieted at the promise of a battle, the idea of any sort of confrontation too delicious to push back against. It acquiesced to his intended course, lending strength that made Killian grin ferally.

They had just passed where the portal had spit them out when he heard the noise of another ship close by, only slightly behind. It caught up with them in an instant, and he had to blink; the silhouette was so familiar, the way it glided through the water as if it flew, almost like the Jewel but not quite -

The thought was obliterated as Emma came into view on the deck, her hair whipping around her scowling face.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

"Get her out of here. This place is about to be a war zone if they manage to pit Ursula against Triton," Marta yelled at Emma's vessel, pointing to where Triton moved the water in huge eddies, the sea opening up and closing.

Ariel yelled back, obviously frustrated and pointing at Emma. "We told her that, she -"

"This is what Emma wants to do! We need to help Ursula, and we need to help your father, so why are you so oblivious you twit?" Alice marched toward Ariel, pointing, no longer soft spoken.

"Of course I want to save my father, but how the hell is she going to help when she isn't even in her right mind!" Ariel spat, before regret played across her features. "Emma, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that in the way -"

Alice and Robin cut off Ariel, though their words were lost to a forceful gust of wind. Alice looked livid, gesturing at Ariel to the point that Eric had stepped in and tried to separate them. Emma looked frozen in place, opening her mouth to say something, but thought better of it and retreated. Killian caught her eye, but she just looked through him, and instead jumped when thunder boomed over their heads.

Wind ripped at their own sails, Marta running to the front of the ship as Killian raced toward the back, glancing over to see Emma's sleeker vessel roll in the waves. The storm itself seemed concentrated around them suddenly, growing in ferocity. Massive waves, fueled by Triton’s powers, drew up shipwrecks that crashed into their vessels, jostling the princess and sending Eric to the wheel to frantically steer. Ariel was red with rage, screaming at Alice and Eric, while Emma tried to get their attention.

Killian yelled at them to stop, but they only pointed their shouts at him, rain now pouring down on them like the sky had opened.

Emma let out a scream of frustration, and Killian could see it before it happened, moving with a rope in his hand as he threw back the last of the vial in his pocket, jumping into the water only moments after Emma lost her balance and flew over the side.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

"Stop fighting, it's making the storm - " Emma shouted, but it was drowned out over the roar of waves, the downpour, and the brawl. A wave tore at her, and she was thrown roughly to the deck, her hand catching a rope for support. The wind whipped the rigging skyward, her cuff falling away as she flew off the planks and into the ocean.

The water hit her full on, taking her breath away. She scrambled for the cuff, realizing too late it was lost in the sea. The dark water was freezing, crushing her in the indeterminate up and down. In a panicked moment she tried to summon the cuff, and when her magic simply sputtered, she tried to conjure air. No bubbles formed around her, her magic strained or weakened by Nil's influence on the sea. Fighting against the current left the air in her lungs burning, but she could not give in. A life of no more sky was how all of her nightmares seemed to end: here in the silence of drowning, in a life with Nil, or surrounded by darkness that was too alive. What would her mother say? Her father? With their fiercest faces on, speaking of honor and hard won peace -

"We never give up in this family, Emma. We always find another. Good always wins."

Now she wanted desperately to ask at what cost? At what cost did good win, when this was good? Good should not be having to struggle, banished from a realm for no more reason than hatred, locked away forever or until you could be of use, punishments that were cruel and unusual - that wasn't good winning.

That cost didn't need to be paid when there were so many other paths available. If only they had sought wisdom, if they had reached out and tried to see what might be good for all… Emma wished that she could have helped them do better, that maybe if she wasn't drowning, if they weren't imprisoned, if the weight of what they built hadn't come crashing down, they all could have changed things.

Her eyes blurred and bright spots burst in her vision. Blackness closed in, her magic dampened, embracing the beginning of the end, until a hand grabbed her own. It pulled hard, tearing through the water. A blue light came from somewhere in the dark, but when she reached for it Emma felt her legs touch a tail, hand tingling from shock. There was no way it was him; Ariel was right that she had lost her mind, this was just some strange vision before she would wake in her bed. Arms wrapped tightly around her, pulling her upwards, trying to beat the water that leaked into her mouth and nose, and there were his eyes, like he actually -

Landing on hard wood with a thud, she could dimly hear voices of concern, but mostly she could see a soaking wet Killian looking down at her in fear. Emma coughed, choking on water as he watched her, breathing in harshly himself and falling back to his elbows. Too weak to move away from him and much weaker still to try to ask why, she stared at him in angry confusion.

"You really need to stop drowning around me," he said in explanation, wiping wet hair away from his face, as if it meant nothing. "It's a terrible way to go, and I have made it abundantly clear that I will not let you."

Emma couldn't help the laughter that bubbled out of her at the absolute absurdity of everything, the hurt in her chest from the lack of oxygen, and how much hatred she wanted to feel even though she could not summon it.

"I'll try and keep that in mind. Thank you," Emma whispered with as much annoyance as she could muster. Killian cracked a cheeky grin, and Emma felt the urge to punch him rise.

"Emma, I'm so sorry. We realized that you were gone after he was jumping off the other side after you - " Alice rapidly began, before crushing Emma in a hug. The rest of her friends gathered, the storm calming around them on both ships.

There was a loud splintering crack as more of Ursula's realm was pulled from hiding. Goblins threw ropes at the caves, climbing like spiders into the network of tunnels as Selkies launched their own bare defenses until they were dragged out in nets.

A massive tentacle broke from the water, smacking hard against Triton as Ursula pushed free into the onslaught. Ariel gasped, and Marta began frantically pacing the deck.

"What do we do?" Marta asked. Everyone turned towards Killian, who looked at his feet.

"Don't look at me," he snapped, pointing to Emma. "The princess here does a far better job at improvisation methods. Ask her, she's your leader."

Emma blinked, staring at Killian with a suspicious glare. She thought for a moment, pushing past everything that had happened, her fears evaporating as she moved into planning.

"We help Ursula, and we help the Selkies. Eric will pilot to Ursula, while some of us take the other ship and destroy what we can of Nil’s armada." She spoke calmly, delegating tasks quickly and methodically cycling through what they would need. "Ursula needs more time to try and get her denizens all out, so we need to make any sort of distraction we can. We can draw them away or at least split their forces if he knows I'm here."

"That is a terrible - " Ariel began, but Emma stopped her with a harsh tone.

"If you have nothing better to offer, Ariel, I don't want to hear it."

Ariel managed to look shocked, before swallowing with a nod. "Let's free my father."

They split as a group, Emma giving Marta a solemn nod when they turned away to head towards Nil, Eric steering their ship straight into the formation. Killian forced his way between two ships in the rear, blending in easily, using their mix of styles to his advantage. It wasn't until the the first ship lay silent and burning that any attack looked like it was taking place. At least he could do this; maybe they could do this and for once take a victory.

Marta steered hard into a barely held together wooden sloop. Alice and Robyn wreaked chaos with strange smoke bombs detonated by arrows while Killian lit sails on fire, the Goblins seemingly not understanding why liberally leaving petrol around could be a problem. The armada's wooden ships burned hot in the water, making the storm even eerier, green lightning mixed with the bright reds of the flames creating barriers for any course direction. It was clear that the Goblins were not familiar with any Naval strategy, and Emma felt a small surge of hope. Eric had a steady hand as he watched Ariel create portals, shutting them around longer vessels when they were halfway through with screeching crunches.

The Goblin fleet took notice, but Nil made no move for Emma as their ship took fire. Eric and Ariel disappeared onto a steel boat with a claw like contraption while Emma tried to magic herself onto another ship’s deck without success. Her hands trembled, sparks finally lighting and sending her sprawling on a shiny silver floor surrounded by huge containers stacked on each other. A Goblin stared at her in confusion before she lunged, plunging her sword into its chest out of instinct. The Goblin fell with a thud, and Emma began to run. These ships were long and easy to cross. Her mind was made up to get to Nil before he could get to the Selkies.

Killian appeared in the middle of the last surviving holdout of metal barges, pursued as he jumped across a row of metal containers above Emma while she herded a group into the space below. The Goblins above carelessly knocked containers down in a tumble, burying her pursuers. Emma met his eyes briefly, giving him a nod.

They continued through the maze of metal on opposite sides of each other, flowing into an easy strategy together that made her angrier still at Nil - angry that she could possibly consider working again with the Dark One. It was too simple to fall back into their unfriendly truce. The thought had barely crossed her mind when the wood under her feet splintered and bowed, her feet slipping as the barge tipped forward, barreling towards the sea floor. The impact of the hull against the rocky ground sent her flying, the noise alone reverberating through her teeth like she was shattering as the rocks came towards her at frightening speed.

The same black blur as before pushed her into swirling water. The force of the whirlpool crushed them both, but her hand crushed his even harder while he pulled upward. Water resettled again as they gasped for air together at the surface, Killian’s hair sticking flat against his face. The water was full of debris and flame, smoke making it impossible to see much of anything. Ships ground together all around them as he helped her cling to a chunk of wood. It was in both of their best interests for her to be alive and uninjured, but here he was playing some sort of savior that went far beyond the bounds of their truce. He was behind her, at her side, or in sync with her step, both of them working together with an ease as if they were partners, and yet that’s not what they were. It made her angry, furious even, even in the midst of battle.

"Killian, what - " But before she could finish, she was forced to push him frantically out of the way as a huge chunk of a rock formation fell, the resulting force smacking them together. "Look out, go!"

More rocks fell around them and cut through the smoke, Ursula's lair appearing again to all as its protective shields flickered to a shuddering halt, the walls looming over them as it hurtled downwards again towards the sea floor. One of the main chambers swallowed them as the lair descended, pushing water aside as it split around them, crystals raining down in sparkling pieces. Caught in the push back of the water, they were pulled with the mass of rock as it fell away and began settling into the bottom of the sea. The force of the ensuing wave, however, pushed them back up and over the surface, Emma's back smacking against what was once the cave floor. The two pieces were still crumbling, but now sat horizontally in the water to create an invisible shoreline made of stone. Emma had little time to acknowledge where she landed, the wind escaping her lungs when she tried to shriek and shield her body from another round of the boulders. Killian pulled her into a roll, ending up above her breathing heavily.

"G'off - " Emma let out a panted breath from under him, weakly protesting at his weight. "Catch your breath, and g'off!"

Killian rolled off of her onto his back, letting out puffs of air as he did.

"Sorry," he rasped, and finally pushed his hair out of his face with a wet slap. Emma let out a laugh, regretting it instantly as she coughed.

"S'alright." Propping herself upright on her elbows, she quickly glanced around the cave fragment where they had washed up, now its own small island in the turmoiled sea. Standing and peering around the cracked rock, her breath caught again.

Ursula's realm was broken into pieces around the remaining ships, cracked and jagged mountains of what was once the cave jutting out of the water. The piece they were sequestered on was at the outer edge, so obscured by smoke that they could not see Ursula at all until Triton's first blow landed and swept the billowing clouds away.

The brother and sister stood in the water in front of Nil's barge, both of them colossal and struggling against each other’s strength as Ursula's tentacles wrapped around the trident. Nets were thrown towards what was left of the caves, dragging selkies into a cargo hold, the water carrying sounds of distress to her ears. Emma slipped through the crack, running towards the water, but there he was in her peripheral, because of course he was. Of course he would stalk her even in the middle of a battle -

"Don't you dare tell me not to do this, not to do something - " Emma hissed, putting more distance between them. He stood slightly in front of her, but made no move to stop her.

"I wasn't going to," Killian replied with a sideways glance, following slightly behind when she pushed past. "Do you have a plan?" he asked when they got closer, nets hauling in screaming women and seals.

"Get the Selkies out and turn Nil's focus fully on me so that Ursula can free Triton. Nil doesn't care about his people or how many die; he will only notice if a new plaything is put in front of him. I don't know how much time Ursula needs, but that's my last resort plan."

"I have a plan, and it should buy you time if you - "

"Trust you again?" She whirled on her heel back towards him. "That's below even my last resort plan. I will never - "

"I've betrayed you, and I understand that you owe me nothing, Em - Princess, but I swear to you now that I give you my fealty. I swear on Milah, Liam, and Elsa that I will be your ally, and help you in this war. Take a leap of faith here, please, I promise you that - " She turned away. Killian tried to follow, but she held up a hand.

"Shut the hell up, Killian. Just stop. Please." Her voice wavered slightly, and he halted behind her. Seeing him look actually admonished, actually concerned as he pushed wet hair away from his face, Emma lowered herself into the water.

"Fair enough." He whispered.

"By the way," her shoulders tightened, though she didn’t bother to glance at him, "if you're really sorry, truly apologetic even in some part of you that can still muster that emotion, a true apology would be changed behavior. Which is why if I am faced with you and Nil as my options, I will take this dagger shard to the bottom of the sea. I’d rather die than pick either of you."

"I am - "

"I don't care, Killian. Thank you for your help here, and thank you for saving my life. It does not change anything."

Emma propelled herself forward into one of the nets, leaving him behind again. It dragged her and several frightened Selkies up over a deck, depositing them into some sort of holding cage. Emma moved quickly, cutting through the ropes with a knife that Ursula had given her. Handing it off to a nymph, Emma lifted herself from the floor with discarded netting, looking around to see what all was taking place.

Emma spotted Ariel in a corner, waving for her attention and pointing to a wall with a circling finger. She could make a portal; good - a quiet and easy way to get the Selkies to safety. Emma motioned to the groups of Selkies netted on deck, prioritizing those who were held down by Goblins or in view of the archers taking aim near the King's raised area. The first two attempts were straightforward, no Goblins milling around to stop them. The third was more harrowing, almost cut short by a Goblin's shrieking. Killian snapped its neck from behind as Emma braced herself for discovery, her eyes widening further when he ducked down and helped her cut through a heavy cord that bound the Selkies. They split apart again, the last groups too close to the front and at risk of being directly under a rain of archers. There was a shadowy section of boxes that she could dip behind for cover, but without the archers’ eyes distracted, it would be impossible to get to. Killian signaled from a corner, ducking behind a tarp when a patrol went by.

Emma stayed still in the hold, pleading with her eyes, trying to tell him that she needed only a little time. He gave her a slight downcast smile, almost a grimace but not quite, and sprung from hiding. Slashing and hacking at a set of Goblins to provide a distraction as she ran to cut the last nets, he made his way toward the front of the huge metal ship until Nil bellowed. Nil pointed one of his gnarled fingers at Killian, eyes widening in recognition as his face turned from anger, to a smile. He laughed, opening his hands and spreading his arms as if presented with an old friend.

Watching with a sick feeling churning in her gut, she saw Killian bow lowly. To her great horror, his wide, crooked, grin was once again back.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The bow he gave was met by several Goblins overtaking him, beating him as they placed shackles on his arms and legs. They weighed heavily, burning against his skin. Iron. Of course it was iron; it was earth, after all. Goblins were right behind Dwarves with their affinity for earth magic, able to bend iron with ease.

Nil walked towards him wearing a fur cape draped over his shoulders that sparkled in the dim light. Killian could see that it was a poorly crafted blend of Merscale, Selkie pelts, and varying Ansapi skins. Even despite Nil’s garish and disgusting costuming, Killian saw the faintest glimpse of Milah in the man's unsure eyes. Then, the Goblin smiled broadly, and any trace of her was wiped away.

"You made it!" Nil bellowed, seemingly overjoyed as his guard looked on in confusion, ignoring the lifeless bodies that lay around the ship and its strange cargo pillars, marking Killian’s path.

Killian struggled slightly, testing his bonds as they seared the flesh. "Certainly did," he hissed.

"Where is my Queen? My radiant bride-to-be and future submitting wife?" Nil practically sang. Killian could see his mouth was wet, the too long tongue in his mouth slick with salivation.

Killian suppressed the disgust that threatened to spill over at the prince’s language.

The Darkness caressed his bones, tickling gently under his skin.

Tell him. Do it. End this.

Killian set his jaw, thinking of Emma's hand on the barrier she had created in the woods, the way her brows had pinched and lips had turned down. She had trusted him briefly, even going so far to say that he had good inside of him when she first forgave him, and to say she wished him peace when she left.

There had been a moment when she hesitated before going into the portal, thought about looking back at him, and he had hated her for almost forgiving him again. He had hated her for so much more than her slender shoulders had ever had to bear, blamed her for so much; he’d even told her in no uncertain terms that she should suffer as Milah had. And still, she was here, looking at him with those eyes that he couldn't escape.

No no no, you listen to me, only to me. I am your master, you are my hound to beat when it fails to bring me my kills! No, NOW LISTEN, LISTEN. END THIS.

He couldn't stop thinking of the anger and relief when she spoke his name again upon seeing him before Ursula, the way she had dismissed him instead of making him grovel like she should have, demanding her pound of flesh for what he had put her through. The way she was glancing at him now with apprehension and fear.

She is a weakling, full of uncontrolled emotions and too much trust that has led to her ruin. Go on, stop stalling! Hurry, hurry now, we can get the shard and -

And giving her to Nil would end with nothing more than misery for not only her, but anyone who stood in the Goblins’ way - Royals and Fae like Marta, or the numerous scattered Fae that refused a crown once before -

“Well?” Nil asked, laughing raucously.

Well? Give him the princess, you blithering simpleton -

Killian cleared his throat, preparing himself. "She's dead."

What!?

"I must have misheard you, Dark One," Nil chuckled dangerously. "Say again?"

Yes, say AGAIN? WHAT ARE YOU DOING? END THIS.

The Darkness tried to force its words onto his tongue, but he would not let her forgiveness by dismissal be in vain.

ENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHIS END THIS, GIVE HER UP

"She's dead; she ran from me weeks ago. I found her body in a ravine, the shard dissolved to ash. I will never be freed." He spoke as bitterly as he could, channeling the hatred easily.

"What?" the Goblin Prince screamed, enraged. "She is strong willed and has a bite to match that delectable bark, so she cannot be dead. She is like my own stolen mother, and destined for her blood to strengthen the throne. No, she cannot be dead."

You won't buy her time with this, you fool! This is inevitable, she is his and will be his like your whore was his father's. You must get the shard -

"I assure you, she is. Even in death, she made it difficult. The ravine was deep and absolutely bloody terrible to climb into. I can't imagine falling down it was anything even she could have survived."

You will suffer for this.

"Good," Killian whispered, mostly to himself. Emma looked at him from the remains of the net, where the Selkies were now freed from their confines. She motioned for him to stop, but he shook his head, wet strands of the shaggy mess sticking to his forehead. The Goblin Prince paced, before taking deep breaths and turning again to face Killian.

"Then why have you come here, slaughtered my fleet, and created chaos? I've heard about your glory under my father. Did you really come here empty handed to tell me you're untethered?" Nil attempted to sound amused, but the desperate edge was heavy in his tone. There was no control there, just an angry brat brashly striking out at everyone.

Killian put on a pedantic smile, causing Nil to immediately start shifting in his place like a child. "Why wouldn't I? I only create chaos, and with no master that means I can strike against you too. Your damnable father may not be here, but I can still hurt you," he drawled, a bit of The Darkness in his voice for finesse.

What are you doing, what ARE YOU DOING?

"Then you're useless to me. It's lucky I don't believe you." Nil smiled with a menacing edge. "We'll just leave you here for safekeeping until I can verify this unfortunate and convenient tragedy. My betrothed is a beautiful specimen and so strong, it's hard to believe she isn't ferreted away somewhere. Her tenacity knows no bounds, yet again like my beloved Mother. I love that fighting spirit, she will make a strong future king, as it is written." Walking to a large flat piece of iron and picking it up from the floor, the sheet rolled like paper in his glowing hands until it crafted into a large curved spike.

There was a sharp pain in his chest as the U bend of the makeshift iron anchor broke through the skin of his back, cracking ribs. Killian groaned, falling back, but Nil was there, standing on top of the iron contraption and pushing it deeper. Pushing the other side of heavy iron through his ribcage, Killian felt the air escape his lungs in a choking rasp, forcing him to double over, while Nil gave him a hard push into the sea.

You've killed us both you fool. I hope you're happy.

"We don't die. I'm content to lie at the bottom of the sea if that means another does not have the same fate as Milah. I meant what I said."

You will know true agony for this. Your insolence has been a problem, but this? This you will suffer for; this you will know true pain for.

"Aye, I'm sure of it. For now, enjoy the water for the both of us."

The dark pressure seemed endless, and the pain was constant, but it cleared his thoughts. Killian of the Blackwater, left to sit in the blackest depths forevermore. The Darkness writhed and cajoled and raged, but nothing it did could disturb his peace, the idea of penance weighing heavier than the cold, deep nothingness.

He wondered if this was what Liam felt. The thought didn't hurt him this time.

The anchor dragged along the sand at the bottom, drawing another sound that escaped in bubbles. More pain burned through him as his lungs filled with water. Stars lit behind his eyes, bright pops of color flashing in time with the stabs of pain. Hours passed like this, his thoughts just as full with briny water as he tried not to think about how long this torture would continue. A firework lit in his mind as the anchor hit a rock, sending reverberating shocks through his body. He wished vainly for the darkness to take him instead of the bursts of brightness.

But no, the light would not go away. It became a pinpoint, then a glow that was warmer and more comforting than anything he thought he would know, growing to spread through him. He cracked open his eyes to see what he thought was a fierce angel, or quite possibly a nymph or siren, who swam before him encased in bright sunshine shimmers of light with a halo around her head and wearing Emma’s face.

There was no mockery, for which he thanked the heavens; she simply lifted him, felt the iron, and dropped him suddenly. Tentacles wrapped around the thickest bend of the molded metal, wood crashing around them as the strange suction cup dotted arms yanked. Then, the weight in his chest loosened and he was flying, finally free. It was too much; he flew too high and too fast, falling just as quickly, his eyes shut tightly.

He fell on something hard, forcing him to cough up water as he raised himself on his side. Soft hands pushed hair out of his face, and something warm crashed into him against where the iron had been. He groaned as whatever it was that had settled against him. A person? When he let out a breath, the person - yes, it was definitely a person - began hitting him.

They stopped suddenly, and after no other smacks came for several moments he opened his eyes to see Emma staring back at him with worry, concern, and anger filling her own gaze.

"You fucking idiot!" she screamed. "You -"

"You know that I can't die, right? I'm a survivor.”

"You still… Even if… If you had been hurt, hurt worse than this I mean, I… Why did you do that? I had a plan, and you - you bought us so much more time, I should have let you - I should have trusted - We couldn't have done this without you, I just…" Emma swiped at her eyes. "Why would you, you absolute…"

Trying to sit up and practically toppling them both, he groused wryly at her noise of concern. "Maybe I just needed reminding that I could be on the hero's side, or maybe I knew you would never let me get off that easy and without yelling at me, you stubborn - "

Emma hit him lightly again, her voice laced with strained amusement and lessening terror. "Don't move. Just stop, don't move, you arrogant ass."

"Princess, you deprive me of a dashing rescue, and then add insult to injury - "

"Emma. Please, I…" She straightened her shoulders and began to laugh, his grin at her not helping. Her voice cracked when she tried to start talking, and though she cleared her throat, she could not hide the tremble. "I think, Emma is just fine. Or I quite liked when you called me Swan."

"Hey, hey now," he soothed, and when he laid a hand on her cheek she turned her face into his palm, holding her own hand against his. Emma couldn't hold back a shaky breath as a few tears escaped, and he pulled her tightly to him. "Hey. Don't cry. I'm the one who was gravely injured. It was about time you saved me from almost drowning, even though I technically cannot. We'll count it as one to three, with me in the lead. You can't steal that too, Swan."

Her hiccupping laugh and weak wristed smack made him snort. The wound in his back closed, the Darkness ever keeping him alive, even as it still stopped short of his hand. Finally, Killian allowed himself to look around. They were on an old style ship, a light fleet frigate possibly, with no one else in sight. It felt vaguely familiar, but so did simply being at sea. Emma shuddered against him, cold and most likely exhausted as he pressed her for details.

"What happened to Nil's armada?"

"Your claim that I was dead caused the Goblin Prince to throw a full-on tantrum, leaving his own ship by portal. The mages he left in charge couldn't control Triton when whittled down in numbers. By the time Nil came back with his father, Triton was free, Ursula was laying waste to anything with Goblins on board, and the Selkies were free and trying to heal their wounded while regrouping. Ursula threw us on this ship after we looked for you, and the two of them destroyed Nil’s entire armada. Nil escaped through a portal at the last second, though. I watched through your telescope." Emma blushed lightly, pulling away from him. "Ursula said this ship will mean something to you, but I don't recognize it other than it being the one we used today. It's sort of a hodge-podge of Mer-craftsmanship; a frigate, speed sloop, galleon, and tall ship all crammed together. The base and bunks seem to be mostly the galleon? It's that ship Eric pulled out of the water before -"

"Liam's ship," he breathed. "My ship."

"I thought yours was The Jewel of the Realm? This one says something about being Jolly." She pointed over the edge, and he joined her to peer over. In sloppy carved graffiti, some sea dwelling mer-miscreant had replaced the clean script of the Fae Navy with 'The Jolly Roger'.

Killian couldn't find it in himself to be angry, instead laughing as he crossed to the stern, feeling the same breeze that his brother and he had felt, the sea immediately calming him. Emma had only made this all the better, expending any magic she hadn't used drying their supplies and the ship's hold. Once waterlogged books filled with his brother's notes were crisp and clean, and a patina worn sextant looked almost like new on a pristine desk. Opening a trunk, he found naval uniforms pressed for a day's work, closing the lid after running his fingers over the brass buttons and fringed epaulets on the shoulders.

Then there were the other ships, the pieces of other wrecks merged to what was his, that made up the crooked interior, filled with casks and casks of glorious rum.

He created a small fire in the tiny galley, heating it with the butter they had left, still in Ingrid's strange plastic pastel container, before joining Emma on the deck with two cups as she arranged blankets.

"How's your hand?" Emma asked, watching him settle.

He gave a shrug, trying to mask the fire coursing through his bent fingers. "S'fine."

He took a heavy swig, the rum doing nothing to help the pain in his hand. Emma rolled her eyes and crawled beside him, taking his cold palm in hers. "Which means 'it hurts' in High Killian. You're truly a terrible liar."

"The Goblin believed me when I told them you were dead."

"Barely, and I mean, case and point." Emma smirked, her magic glowing softly.

Killian barked out a laugh, and her magic spread, his hand stopping its searing throbs. He sighed in relief, and picked up a steaming mug.

"Any idea where we're off to?" he asked. Emma sighed wearily.

"I haven't had much more that a moment while you looked around yourself, but I believe we’re in this general vicinity." She spread out a large map that he had not noticed, unrolling it and pinning it down with a few stones she must have found in Liam's collection. Amethyst and a chunk of bismuth glittered at each corner. Emma pointed with the ends of a navigational compass to a location in the blue defined area she had made a circle around. "The stars aren't great right now, but I remember them well enough to find the cardinal points. There was a current map where I found this, and based on the stars and our speed, I think this is our trajectory if we're seeking the closest shore to land on." She tapped a small speck on the map with the compass, some unmarked island.

Killian raised an eyebrow, remarkably impressed. "You know marine navigation?"

Emma shrugged, with a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Even a proper noblewoman needs hobbies."

"I'm beginning to believe that you aren't the most proper of noblewomen, Swan."

"My reputation is ruined, you'll have to seek out other debutantes to fill your season."

He was caught off guard by her quip, and laughed in surprise, her giggling joining his. He brushed a finger over one of her lines on the map. "This is going to take some time, if you're right. Have you been at sea for any length of time?"

Emma shook her head, and sighed. "No. The sea wasn't a place for a princess." Her tone was sour, and she looked at him with the glint of irritation he'd begun to notice was present when she spoke about the ridiculous notions of the royals.

"Well, now it seems it is." He gave her a wink, and her cheeks flushed a deep red, the rum seemingly warming her further. "We'll be in close quarters, especially with what a mess of mismatched parts below deck is. Stay off my toes, and we'll be fine."

Looking at him with a cocked head and an amused expression, she gave a mock salute while imitating his accent. "Aye aye, Captain, sir."

He grimaced, and downed his rum. The Darkness had quieted again, probably due to her close proximity and how her magic seemed to target it lately.

Emma took another large swig of rum, her skin heating with a visible flush. Killian grinned at her, taking the mug down to pour more for them. When he handed it to her, she took another swig, seeming to savor the burn in her throat and warmth in her belly. Giggling, she let herself fall back onto the blankets they had laid across the deck.

"The last time I was this drunk was when I kissed you," she laughed, rolling onto her side clumsily to look at him. "After we escaped Pann."

"You were much more drunk then," he laughed back before realization dawned on him. "Wait, you remember that?"

"Yeah, and you lying about it." Her grin was playful, and she laid her head down to hide half her face in the blankets. Killian felt his ears heat, and tried not to choke on anymore of the rum. "Why did you, anyway?"

"I didn't - it was obvious you were out of sorts, just…"

"Knackered? Foxed? Three shades to the wind?" Emma giggled, and when he didn't return the laugh she reached for him. "I didn't mean to upset you, I definitely shouldn't have done that. I mean, I don't regret it, because it was nice and you have nice lips and a nice face, and - " She rambled, and his eyebrow raised. She let out a groan and covered her mouth.

"A drunken mind speaks a sober - " he chuckled awkwardly, Emma reaching to push him softly before he could finish the proverb. There was a part of him that felt strange, full of pride, while all at once wistful.

"Shut up," she whined, her blush making her eyes more green. "We will never speak of this again."

"Not a word from my nice lips about it again, I swear it." Miming zipping his lips, Emma groaned once more, falling back into the blankets again while laughing. Her laughter, being out at sea, the rum - it was heady when mixed with the thought of the way she had felt. There was no way he could admit anything more than that to himself, let alone Emma.

Later he checked her coordinates against the constellations, both of them looking at the stars and looking over the map by candlelight. Emma fell asleep as he began to work in silence and he coaxed her to take a pillow to lay her head on, the quiet snoring lasting for a few hours.

She tossed and turned under the blanket, briefly scaring him with the suddenness of her flailing.

"Emma? Are you alright?"

"Don't touch me, please don't touch - " she startled awake, throwing her body away from his own. With hazy eyes filled with tears, Emma scrunched into her frame just as he saw her do within Ursula's realm, magic leaving her in waves. "Nil, no, please don't - "

The first few bursts of magic caught him off guard, hitting him squarely in the chest. The third he tried to roll away from as it hit his hip, the movement fully pulling her from the night terror.

Her breathing was rapid and unsteady, as she murmured an apology, fingers twisting her hair.

She looked exhausted, and Killian wondered again when the last time she had gotten proper rest was. Approaching carefully, he wrapped her in the blanket she had thrown off, helping her to stand.

"Go sleep in the bunk. It will be more comfortable for you," Killian whispered, and Emma let him tuck a stray piece of her hair behind her ear, his skin meeting the softness of her cheek. He nodded to the hatch, helping her down the ladder until she closed the latch behind her. Sitting down on the deck to look over the maps again, he attempted to rub out the twinge in his chest that had begun to ache from where her magic had dealt its blows.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The dress for the evening of this ball is beautiful, and fits her like a glove as she twirls for her father. He's happier than she has seen him in a long time, eyes crinkled at the corners, watching her like she is the most important thing in the world as she shows him the intricate crystal work that glitters in the light.

Her mother hugs her from behind, a rare warm gesture rather than the iciness that Emma is used to in their relationship, decorum and etiquette frowning on displays of affection. The green velvet of her mother's gown smells like moss, pine, sweet grass, and fresh snow as her mother rests her head on Emma's shoulder.

Her father twirled her again, and they're at the ball. As unsure as she is what this party commemorates, the food and drink do not disappoint, nor does the selection of dance partners. A warm set of hands covers her eyes, and she can feel the press of a person against her back but it isn't unwelcome at all. Instead she feels the roughness of his palms, stubble against her neck, warm breath in her ear, and Killian’s voice.

"I have a surprise for you, darling," he whispers, and Emma feels her stomach flip like it had once with Graham. To her surprise, she feels trust and a sense of peace that he is with her here, and grins at his gift. The music goes silent in the ballroom, along with the guests, as if a great breath has snuffed everything out. "No peeking now…" Killian’s hands fall away and she screws her eyes tightly shut.

A finger traces her exposed spine, and she giggles, the nail sharp against her skin while feathers soften its trail. Although not completely unpleasant, it feels off the longer and further it goes, and she shivers as she leans away from the touch. The person behind her wraps their arms around her tightly, making it impossible to move while trailing their nails down her exposed skin. Emma struggles, and she feels a sickeningly familiar giggle rumble through the chest against her back.

This wasn't Killian any longer. She keeps her eyes shut, trying to wish away the sour smelling breath against the junction of her throat.

"Open your eyes, my beautiful wife, my queen to rival all queens. Open your eyes and behold my gift to you," Nil hisses, dragging his tongue along her shoulder blade.

Despite trying to clench her eyes shut with everything in her power, they are forced open to the light of the ballroom, twinkling lights that briefly blind then illuminate the bodies on the patterned floor. Crimson puddles lay around the courtiers as they themselves laid too still, livery soaking up the blood. Emma lets out a cry, running and slipping in the pools, her skirts and slippers filling with wet warmth, the taste of copper on her tongue.

Her parents slumped in their thrones, eyes and mouths open too wide, and Emma hears herself now as she chokes out moans, her voice too small but so loud in the silence that permeates in the absence of life. From behind her father's throne, Killian appears, his hands and face drenched in the same red that blooms from her parents necks while he wipes his sword on his waistcoat.

His face contorts in a sinister grin that only widens when he catches her horrified gaze, his eyes flickering to the floor. His eyes that are terribly, and awfully sad.

Emma turns back to Nil, his smile akin to Killian’s own, the dagger in his grip as Killian takes a place slightly behind him like a prostrate lap dog. Emma shakes her head, falling to her knees.

"Do you not like my gift, my radiant queen? I wanted something that left an impression as your last sight before the Darkness of your new life begins." Nil cocks his head, moving to her to lift her chin. Emma feels tears stream down her cheeks. "You will learn to love the Darkness, just as you will learn to love me, and love what I have done for you. Come, wife. Come."

The ballroom disappears around her as the world goes black, the floor falling away to leave her tumbling into the abyss. She lands on a soft surface, hands scrambling to feel around and escape. Her arms tangle in silken sheets as pillows, down, and bedding seemed to hold her, realizing she's landed in a bed that is not her own. The bedding fabric tightens around her wrists and ankles, forcing her body into a prone position, forcing her into a vulnerable position, even as she struggles in the dark. A rustling catches her attention, her body tense as she tries to place where the noise came from. She could see nothing in the gloom, no matter how much she tried. Nil's voice slithered through the murk.

"You're home now, my magnificent queen. Home and safely held, to get you acclimated to life here, to the absence of light." The sound of fabric falling to the ground came from her left, followed by dragging footsteps echoing across the space, Emma's breath coming in panicked gasps.

She feels the creak of the bed near her feet, a knee against her calf as a feathered hand slid up her thigh. Emma pleads for him to stop, desperately trying to get away from his touch.

Nil's voice is silky against her hip. "You'll get used to this too, not that I mind. Fighting makes a better future king."

Screams ripped from her throat and he pulled away, hissing at the noise. "Dark One! Hold her mouth silent!"

Killian appears through the darkness, leaning over her as she begs and pleads for this to stop. His eyes glow blue, and they are still so sad as his hand covers her mouth, muffling her voice. He looks close to tears, like he's breaking himself, his hand trembling against her lips while he tries to comfort her even as Nil returns to her thigh.

"Emma, I'm so sorry, Emma, shhhhh, please." The room grows brighter, his eyes are brighter and he is clenching his jaw in fury. Emma can feel the light coming back, but Nil's hands press on, too close to where they should never be, and her begging gets louder along with Killian’s voice right above her, "Emma, are you alright?"

And no, she isn't, but the room is gone and he's saved her, eyes blue in her blurry vision -

Waking up in terror after the rum had worn off, Emma had hoped for more sleep, but even the alcohol was unable to combat her nightmare on the deck. The dream continued to plague her, pieces of it making her breath catch until it fades. Killian was in her dreams more frequently since his return, both ambivalent and malicious in each turn. Killian had helped her down into those chambers, and although she still was slightly hazy, it was a welcome change.

It was odd to be in the room of a person that had changed into a stranger inside his own skin, the remaining discarded bits of what was a life scattered in disarray. Lighting a candle, she looked at the open trunk and the uniform placed reverently over a desk chair, letting her fingers run along the buttons and brush the fringe of the epaulets. The books she had pulled earlier were still out, and she opened dog eared pages, surprised by the different sets of handwriting in the margins.

Sturdy, block text that reminded her of laws and bills that her parents had to sign underlined passages, while a flowery script poked fun at those footnotes. The flowery text seemed to enjoy more poetry and philosophy, which the block text had teased heavily. Based on what she knew, Liam and Killian respectively were the authors, Killian’s text much more chaotic and flamboyant. Another hand's script had joined later, letters beautiful and words softly pushed together. It wrote love notes in the corners, or bracketed passages, occasionally a watercolor picture left tucked neatly in the pages where they wrote paragraphs. Milah, Emma assumed.

Killian had once painted, she discovered after finding a ribbon bound stack of his work. Pictures of Milah were his main focus, then the water, landscapes, and animals. His work was humorous and surreal on occasion too, and Emma wondered what that man had been like, before everything happened. He had been different then, and it made her feel anxious and vulnerable to wonder if that man was still buried somewhere within the tortured soul she now kept company with.

Stripping to her shift to combat the last of summer's heat, she laid down on the bunk, surprised at the luxurious nature of the bedding. Here in the cabin, she could better hear the water, waves rocking the ship. Later, she heard his footfalls, opening her eyes briefly as he whispered that she was alright, stroking her hair gently.

Emma could feel the remnants of the dream, the same as before and the same that had haunted her since she had found herself in Ursula's domain. He kept on with his soothing until the tension in her shoulders fell away, the traced patterns against her scalp in sync with the waves. The ghost of the old Killian still remained, she mused smiling sleepily, the one she could trust. She fell immediately back to sleep, resting for the first time in weeks and dreaming of home.

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wildefiction · 6 years ago

Text

L’Appel du Vide

WORD COUNT: 4,677

CHAPTER SUMMARY: With little to no information on what they could be hunting, Sam and Dean take to what they know best -- Sam to his books and Dean to the road. Madeline meets up with an old relative and Gregory realizes that whatever they're hunting is now hunting them as well.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Swearing, Captured Dean, Crass-Attitude

THREE

Fingering the uneven strip of leather wound around her left wrist, Madeline glanced down at her own talisman, the single bear claw the sign of her ancestors. Everyone in her family had one, they acted as a sort of calling card if you could call it that. Old-world Europe and the countries of Scandinavia were home to several major clans, each of which had a certain look to their amulets - similar to how the Celts had family crests. You could tell a lot about a person by the talisman they wore - if you knew what to look for.

As long as Madeline had been alive, she'd yet to fully develop hers; the process of cultivating one known to take decades.

Most people in the modern world thought it was just some edgy charm bracelet if they bothered to say anything at all. Madeline let them think what they would, there was no use trying to explain something as complex as what was essentially her family lineage and traditions passed down through generations to people who couldn't focus on one thing for more than half a minute. Fucking technology bleeding people dry of what little intelligence they used to possess.

Rising from her squat, Madeline stilled as the fine hair on the back of her neck stood at attention. Curling her fingers into fists, she turned, bracing herself for seeing him - the first time she'd done so in years.

Madeline was not a short woman, her five-foot, nine inches rather tall for a female in this country.

Still, when she turned, it was into the broad chest of a man who towered over her by nearly a foot.

A throaty growl reverberated through the man's body, his lips turning up into a grin. Rather than a smile, it was more a baring of teeth and Madeline couldn't decide if she felt threatened or not.

"What are you doing here Einar?" The words were terse, but not entirely disrespectful, even she had more sense than to assume she'd win if it came down to an argument. Better to proceed with caution…

The man spoke with a heavy accent, but Madeline noted with interest that he responded in English rather than insisting on using their native language.

"Likely the same as you. I assure you, I wouldn't be in this Gods-forsaken country if it weren't entirely necessary."

"I assume you found it?" Einar looked down at Madeline with his pale eyes, the wild mane of hair framing his face and falling to just past his shoulders a striking mix of dark chocolate, silver and a true black.

Nodding, she side-stepped his large frame and sauntered back over to what remained of the woman who'd lived in this cottage. Even this far removed from civilization, it had found her. Though, to be fair - once you were this things' target, there seemed to be no escape. It mattered not how far you ran, or how well you hid or who you knew or what you could do - you couldn't cheat fate the way you could occasionally cheat death.

The pair walked back across the threshold, searching again through the rubble. Maybe there was something here that she'd missed, Madeline thought to herself. Even if not, perhaps the hulking man next to her could shed some light on the situation.

"Any ideas?" The woman watched as Einar peered closely at a dried substance flaking from the deep furrows of the splintered wood. Rubbing a bit of the charcoal through his fingers, his forehead creased in concern, disbelief clear on his face.

Rounding on her, Einar wrapped his free hand around Madeline's wrist and with a sharp tug, pulled her from the wreckage.

"You need to leave. NOW!" Get as far from this place as you can, if these signs point to where I think this world is fucked."

"You'll know if I find anything else. Tell those humans you love so much goodbye and come home - they don't deserve your loyalty."

With that, Einar turned, disappearing into the woods surrounding them.

For the first time in a while, Madeline was actually, truly afraid. If Einar was concerned enough to bring her home - something bad was on the horizon.

Still, it didn't feel right to just up and disappear. Sure, she'd sometimes go weeks without speaking to the Winchesters, but they'd saved her hide once or twice - the least she could do was warn them...problem was, she was no closer to having any real answers than she had been yesterday.

*****

Several thousand miles away, Gregory reclined in one corner of a dingy tavern, the sickly glow of a half expired tallow candle sputtering as a chill gust of wind swirled through the room.

Leaning forward with a sigh, he stared into the bottom of his empty glass - debating whether he wanted another.

The low hum of his phone vibrating in the pocket of his blazer distracted him from the stranger who'd just pushed through the crowd, a heavy fur cloak drawn about his shoulders, the oversized hood shielding his features from the patrons gathered around their own tables.

Slipping from his chair, Gregory ducked into the narrow hallway leading to a rickety staircase. The wood groaned under the weight of his polished black shoes as he climbed to the cluster of rooms the establishment offered to road-weary travelers.

Turning the iron knob and taking care to make no excess noise, Gregory closed himself in the room he'd rented.

Rented might've been the wrong word, as it insinuated he'd traded money or services for it. But, the wench at the bar apparently had a thing for preternatural patrons. All he'd done was quirk an eyebrow at her, his citrine irises swirling with gold and burnt amber. The tendrils of darkness playing about his feet had slid around her ankle, and climbed her leg, constricting around one of her thighs as she stared, open-mouthed, at his audacity.

In the end, he'd gotten the room he was after. Not that he slept, but having some semblance of privacy away from nosy strangers was welcome as he stewed. So far, he'd found nothing. Not a single hint of the devastation that had ransacked the small village he now stood in. Sure, it had been a few hundred years, but it appeared as if the people of this place had forgotten to include it in their history books. Forgotten...or simply chose to omit it. After all, ignorance was bliss.

Long fingers wrapping around the phone, he pulled it from his pocket. The screen illuminating his pale features, Gregory flicked through the stack of notifications; ignoring the several missed phone calls from the Winchesters. He'd been just about to respond to Madeline's text when a low rumble shook the floorboards beneath his feet, a shower of dust raining down upon his inky hair.

Narrowing his eyes, he took a step towards the single window on the far side of the room, the glass stained with years of inattention.

Flames licked along the frame of the tailoring shop next door, the carved wooden sign hanging by a broken link of rusted chain.

A group of people sat huddled outside, the wailing of a woman piercing the night as the rumble sounded again, the east wall of the building exploding in a shower of splinters and crashing beams.

“Great, this is just fuckin’ perfect.” Gregory turned and crossed the room in three-wide steps, the door slamming shut behind him as he went to investigate. The humans he could give a shit less about, the reason why the only tailoring shop for miles had just exploded out of thin air was far more interesting.

*****

Dean was on his fifth beer, Sam still trying (unsuccessfully) to get a hold of Gregory. Or Madeline. Hell, he’d take Crowley right about now. The witch was known for being aloof and not terribly forthcoming with her information, but if her text had referred them to Gregory, it didn’t bode well for the brothers.

Along with the text, Madeline had sent a couple of image files - but either she hadn’t had enough data for them to transfer properly, or the wifi in the bunker was being unusually spotty; the files were blank - tiny white text alerting Sam that the files were downloading. Problem was, there had been zero progress in the several hours it had been since he’d first received her message.

Shoving back from the table, Dean stood - the screeching of the chair against the polished floor alerting Sam. Frowning, concerned, when his brother reached for his jacket and took off towards the garage - Sam followed along behind, a book on ancient beings still clutched in his large hands.

“Did you, uh..-- where ya headed?”

Dean didn’t stop or turn around but instead threw some back-handed comment over his shoulder about figuring this damned situation out.

“I’ll be damned if I just sit here and wait for people to bring us information. Sure, Gregory has been helpful. And the girl has her uses too - but I can’t just sit here and wait for the world to implode - AGAIN.”

“I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

The heavy steel door closing behind the eldest Winchester left Sam in the bunker with nothing but his books and his thoughts - neither of which had helped up until this point.

Scrubbing his hands across his face, he yawned - dropping the book of lore on the war table, the tea-stained pages falling open to an entry on Berserkers. Sauntering off to his room, Sam had convinced himself that sleep was the answer and perhaps that’s all he needed to gain a fresh perspective. Hell, maybe he’d wake up and this entire situation will have just been a bad dream.

Problem was, Sam lived his nightmares every day - and he doubted any of that was about to change.

“SWEET HOME ALABAMA BUH DUNNA DUN DUNNA!.... HM HM… HOME TO YOU!” Dean was thumping his hands against Baby’s steering wheel as he sang, his head bobbing as the rain outside slapped against the outside of his beloved car and her tires sending sprays of icy water toward the sidewalk that was abandoned in the storm. Dean had been driving for nearly ten hours now, and while he had no true destination in mind, he had been checking his phone at least once an hour for an update from Sam, or perhaps an answer from Gregory. “Son of a bitch…” Dean swore and tossed his phone in the place where his brother usually sat. He had no idea where he was going or what he was planning to do, but he hated sitting in idle waiting for someone else to solve his problems. Turning down the music now, Dean straightened himself in his seat as he drove and turned off county road that merged onto a highway that was eerily barren of travelers, his granny smith eyes narrowed on the dark stretch of asphalt ahead when a chiming from his phone took his attention away from the road for the briefest of moments.

[Good Witch]: Hey, sorry for the disappearing act. I need to go for a while. Back home. Keep out of this and lay low for a while. Something big is coming. Something bad and I think it knows we’re on to it. Take care of yourself, Deano

Narrowing his eyes, Dean swore and turned his attention back to the inky black stretch ahead of him, his foot heavy on the pedal and a roar sounding from beneath the Impala’s hood. “Lay low. Right. You can lay low, Witch. I’m going to find whatever’s doing this and I’m going to fucking kill--”

SCCCCREEEEEEEECH! CRASH!

A direct hit from the driver’s side of the Impala sent the vehicle flipping and spinning across the four-lane road and crashing through the guard rail on the other side. Dean’s head cracked off of his window and darkness loomed before his eyes, the last view of light was a pale hand reaching through the window and gripping the front of his jacket. He felt the pressure of being pulled briefly but the pain wracking his body and colours dancing before his vision quickly had Dean losing his state of consciousness.

Two hundred some odd miles away, Sam was nose deep in a book that was very roughly translated from an archaic, long dead language to English. It had been transcribed by the Men of Letters but whoever had done it hadn’t done a very good job of it. “This is nothing but… vague guesses and assumptions.” Sam sighed as he spoke to himself and let the weathered tome slap shut, the smell of aging parchment filling his nostrils as he did. Standing up and stretching from where he’d sat in one of the library’s plush leather chairs; Sam groaned and turned his head from side to side, the satisfactory popping of joints easing the tension in his neck and shoulders slightly, he was getting far too old for all of this shit. Easing his phone from his pocket again, Sam checked the screen and frowned. No missed calls and no new texts, this wasn’t like Dean and it had him worried.

“Dammit Dean... fuck it, maybe Ro knows something.” While Rowena hadn’t always been on team ‘Free Will 2.0’, after she had died, and then came back she’d adopted a vaguely different tune. While Sam didn’t completely trust her, it was better than relying on Crowley or trying to find Madeline again. If Sam knew Rowena, which he did, he knew that texting her was a moot point and thus opted to call, the phone held to his ear as a ringback tone that sounded like a rusty bagpipe screeched in his ear to the point that he held the phone away slightly. “And here I thought those things went out of style in 2006,” Sam muttered under his breath and sighed in relief when the melodic voice on the other end was more than just a voicemail.

“Ah, little Sammy, how are you darling?” Rowena’s voice was a purr, though it was far from sensual; if anything she was taunting him, trying to poke the proverbial bear.

“I’m fine Rowena. I need your help.” Sam knew he wouldn’t live down asking her for help but he’d run out of options since Madeline had stopped answering her phone hours ago after one very vague text about needing to go back home for a while.

“Ooh, is Sammy asking for my help? How delightful, of course, I’d absolutely love to help you. What with after you saved my wee little sausage and slammed the devil back into his box how could I not? What seems to be the problem, petal?”

Sam could hear the mirth in Rowena’s voice and he wanted nothing more than to hang up on her after offering the witch some very choice words, but as the old word went -- desperate times called for desperate measures, even Bobby -- who had come with them through the veil of the world that Dean not-so-affectionately called the ‘upside down’ -- had agreed to work with the witch on the condition that she stop calling him ‘Bobbykins’.

“Dean left a few days ago to try and track down that freak of nature that Crowley calls his nephew Gregory. I didn’t even know that Crowley had siblings in which to give him a Nephew but that is beside the point. I can’t get a bead on him and Dean stopped answering his phone. We’re up to our waist in deep shit and I’m worried that whatever we’ve been hunting might have found him first.”

Sam spoke in one large rush of air and when he finished he was greeted by the tinkling sound of Rowena’s ever-amused laughter, her accent lilting and soft. “Ah, I see, so Dean’s on a hunting trip and hasn’t been home in a few days, is that it, darling?” Rowena knew the words would slap Sam in the face and so she continued before her jab could really sink in.

“I can scry for him and that beast of a car that he drives. Are you at the bunker? I can be there in ten minutes. Bye, for now, ~” Before Sam could even ask her questions, the line had gone dead and he was left to swear and shove his phone back into his pocket before he grew the urge to throw it across the room.

“Perfect. Just perfect.”

As the flames licked into the obsidian sky, Gregory stood before the shop, gaze narrowed in suspicious scrutiny, rolling his eyes as a woman near him ran over to claw at his arm, he turned to meet her face and lifted a lip in a mocking snarl.

“What, woman. What?”

Startled by the clearly inhuman eyes that had met her own, the woman stumbled and tripped over her words, a tongue dragging nervously over cracked and bleeding lips. Even in the dark Gregory could see that she was filthy, her teeth the colour of tombstones and her eyes sunk into her skull.

“Please! My child is in there! You have to get him! Can’t you hear him crying?!”

The fact that Gregory had not picked up on anything other than the crackling fire and exploding support beams even with his keen hearing told him that whoever this woman was, she was lying and all it took was the flashing of his eyes to read the deception that played within her own.

“You mistake me for one of these humans, and doubly as someone who gives a shit about what’s happening here. This entire town could burn to cinders for all I care. But you, you’re not a human, you’re just hiding in the skin of one. Demons I can deal with but you fae will do all manner of nasty things to get your rocks off, won’t you? Make yourself scarce before I throw you into that burning building you set alight. And here I thought I had a clue.”

Sighing as the glamoured creature hissed and took off at an odd loping jog, Gregory narrowed his eyes at the rising flames and looked around; the humans that had once stood outside of the building had returned to their homes, the village small enough that the fire wouldn’t leap to another building and the fall season wet enough that the heavy clouds in the sky would open up with rain and douse the combustion before it could cause more harm. Glancing down at where the Fae had gripped the arm of his suit, Gregory was dismayed to find the material charred and blackened, a grip that would have normally seared a human to the bone.

“Always has to be the suit. Why is it always the fucking suit.”

Kicking a chunk of burning embers back toward the billowing inferno, Gregory turned and made his way back toward the inn, shadows enveloping him as he walked until he had disappeared from view -- leaving any who had seen the act full of questions that would never be answered.

“AHHHHHHH!” THUD

“Oh… god, my spleen. Why.”

Gregory landed on the other side of the summoning ring with a painful thud, a bruising ache blooming throughout his lower back and ass. Staring up at where he was, he noticed the intricate devil’s trap carved and gilded into the ceiling. Someone took their demonology very seriously.

“...Fancy meeting you here, Sam. Ugh… I think you broke my ass.”

“I’ll be breaking a lot more unless you tell me where my brother is and what your part in this hunt we’re stuck doing is. It’s funny how every time a new body pops up, you’re right there with it.”

Sam’s baritone voice echoed throughout the hidden holding cell within the bunker, pacing around the large devil’s trap that duplicated the one that had been carved into the ceiling with the help of Madeline’s magic several months ago.

“You think I’m killing all of these lily assed humans for shit and gigs? Really? Oh jesus, that smarts… ah..” Rolling onto one hip, Gregory slowly pulled himself to his feet. He was definitely way too old to be getting yanked around like a yo-yo without consent.

“All I know is it ain’t human and it’s not from my neck of the woods. Fae maybe, something extra fuckin’ spooky, even for your thrill-seeking asses.” Dusting off the tail end of his suit jacket, Gregory sighed and gave up on saving it, pulling the expensive silk-lined piece off and letting it fall to the floor, the sleeves of his black button-down rolled up over his elbows to reveal dark, surreal tattoos that covered every inch of his arms -- Sam was willing to bet that the demon before him was covered completely in ink like that.

“Alternatively, if you hadn’t ripped me halfway across the globe I probably could have texted you that there’s high supernatural activity even in Ireland where I just was before you -- again, I’ll repeat myself -- ripped me through a portal like a fucking lesser demon!” Gregory rarely raised his voice, but when he did it left an impact; Sam’s hair on the back of his neck standing up and a gut-deep spike of fear causing goosebumps to cover his arms. Gregory’s face had briefly morphed, a fearsome visage having replaced the almost boyishly handsome features he generally had.

“That being said. Sure, Sam, I’ll try to help you despite your utter lack of respect. But first, why is Rowena wearing a swanky ball gown in your dungeon? I’m not one to judge kinks but… well.” The impish smirk on Gregory’s face earned him a roll of Sam’s eyes, but from the corner, he heard Rowena choke back a small laugh, and that was good enough for him.

“Wakey wakey…that’s it, good boy.”

Dean’s eyes rolled and twitched beneath fluttering eyelids and he slowly regained consciousness, a bright light searing into his pupils when he finally opened them completely. “Sonova…” His voice was lacking its usual bravado in exchange for a hoarse, barely-there whisper and his windpipe felt like he had swallowed fire.

“Ah, the prodigal son returns to the land of the living.”

Glancing around as panic and anger set in, Dean growled and forced himself to sit up, his joints and muscles screaming at the pain that followed his hasty movement. “Where am I?” This time when he spoke, his words were a bit clearer; the pain in his chest ignored in lieu of glaring angrily out at whatever had been speaking to him. He couldn’t see in the dim lighting of the corridor but the walls were made of packed earth and the musty smell in the air told Dean that he was somewhere deep underground.

“Where are you? Oh, ah, a cave, of course, or… whatever it is you humans call these things. I would have taken you somewhere more open but the King gets what the King wants. Not sure what he wants with you, though, you’re awfully...pale.”

From the depths of shadows that strained against the torch-light, a tall creature with a complexion that was obsidian in it’s darkest form allowed himself to be seen. Eyes the colour of violets with the pupils of a serpent shone from the depths of black sockets and in the jumping light of the fire, Dean could see that this creature, whatever it was, had trails of opalescent, oil-slick scales highlighting his face, shoulders, and arms.

“You a shapeshifter? Never seen one be so ugly, gotta say.” Dean grunted out the insult and finally used the bars in front of him to pull himself to his feet. “Why am I here?” Dean had a sneaking suspicion but he preferred to play dumb in times like these, if for any reason than to rile up his captor.

“A shape...what? Ugh, you humans are so close-minded. Do I look like some skin-swapping mongrel from up above? No, I do not. You are here because you are very nosy, and his highness does not like it when nosy things stick their ugly little noses into his affairs.”

“Who are you calling’ ugly pal? You look like a piece of burnt toast and a pile of crap had sex and shit you out.”

Dean’s insult only served to make the creature laugh; the sound elegant and laced at its edges with a quiet, rasping hiss.

“You are a feisty one. I am beginning to see why he is so interested in you. In fact, sit tight, I will fetch him so that I can be rid of your fleshy stench.”

Dean watched as the willowy creature slipped back into the darkness, straining to hear and waiting for the sound of its footsteps to fade away completely.

“I’m getting too old for this shit,” Dean grunted and ran his hands over the makeshift cage, a knuckle-rapping against one of the bars, brows shooting up when he realized it was hollow. “Bamboo?” Shaking his head at the idea, Dean lowered himself to the floor and braced his weight with the palms of his hands before lifting both of his legs and striking his boots against the joints of the cage. It took several blows but slowly, the bamboo reeds snapped and splintered under his force. Shoving what he could out of the way, he scrambled to his feet and groaned as the real paint set in and shot its way through his weary legs. No matter how badly his body felt, he forced himself to keep moving, his hands used as a guide to lead him through the bowels of the dark caverns.

***

Just over four thousand miles away, Madeline shivered and pulled a thick, fur lined hood up and close to her features. The fur smelled of sage and cedar; most likely to hide the stench of the archaic methods of tanning used in the village that she stood in.

“Well girl, get inside, middle of fuckin’ winter and you’re out there shakin’ like an arctic hare hidin’ from an osprey!” Einar’s voice was deep and booming, a rare lilt of amusement dancing on the edges of his words. “Here, supper.” A heavy thud alerted Madeline to the large wooden bowl that had been set on an equally large table in the center of Einar’s tent. He had the largest in the village, the arcing supports made from the bones of whales and something even larger that had gone black with age.

“Right, yeah…” Shoving herself away from the entrance of the tent, she let the thick deer hide fall back over the opening and slowly shrugged herself out of the large fur coat that she had been given upon arriving.

“Everything looks exactly the same, like out of a picture. Gosh, it feels like it’s been forever since I’ve been here.”

From the other side of the table, Einar snorted and puffed at a carved bone pipe that was clamped firmly between his lips. “You’re barely over a century, girl, blink of an eye. Of course, nothing has changed. Now sit down and eat and we’ll talk about how to save those humans you seem to be so enamored with.”

Madeline wanted to argue and defend her friendship; she wanted to tell her grandfather that they were hardly friends, let alone something worth being enamored with but she knew if she told him that, their discussion would be off the table. Einar reserved his knowledge for those he thought were worth it, and if he caught air that Sam and Dean were hardly considered her friends, he’d sooner talk about the weather, or ask her when the last time she’d gone hunting for caribou was so with a sigh, she lowered herself into the hand made chair and pulled the bowl of rabbit stew closer to her. It smelled delicious -- she could at least give him that much.

“So, tell me about how these boys stumbled across something this old and angry?”

CHAPTER FOUR

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