#tw: liam's passing
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anchorandrope ¡ 1 month ago
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no please
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larrylimericks ¡ 29 days ago
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23Oct24
Grief whispers he’s gone; I deny. But she says it again, by and by. Then she swears he’s still here: “It’s not real, what you hear”— I’m trapped in her back-and-forth lie.
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zenlesszonezero ¡ 17 days ago
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Join Zenless Zone Zero with Tsukishiro Yanagi, the deputy leader of Hollow Special Operations Section 6! Beneath her ordinary office lady exterior lies a meticulous, emotionally intelligent big sister to the team.
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alarrylarrie ¡ 1 month ago
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Yes please do the tarot ❤️
Okay so first a disclaimer:
I am not a medium. I do not see or speak to those who have gone before us. Tarot isn’t a way to talk to them, anyway. It’s more like a way to ask questions and get guidance? So to speak?
I believe that we all have a team on the other side that is like… assigned to us? And they can sort of help us if we ask them. If we want their help. Like they root for us. But they don’t like, step in and change our path- because we all have free will.
All of that said. I do tarot pulls sometimes to ask my team for an answer when I’m feeling real lost.
Tonight I was wading through my grief when I decided to pick up my two best decks and ask one simple question: is Liam at peace now?
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Basically. Yes. At least, that is what I see in these cards.
The magician is a yes answer, and it symbolizes healing. The voyage card shows me that he took his voyage to the other side and he made it safely. 💜
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dcgfight ¡ 1 month ago
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" .... I don't care if he's a foot taller than me. I think I can take him."
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donutdrawsthings ¡ 2 years ago
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vampire Ari vs hot weather
context: vampirism in my universe is more like a virus than anything magical. You get cool eyes and sharp teeth, sure! but it also comes with a bunch of regular symptoms like feeling dizzy and exhausted. This was also a fun exploration of how this specific virus would affect outlanders, the original species created by my friend @satsumascribbles !!
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prlarrie ¡ 1 month ago
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I'm sorry I didn't post that day, but I genuinely didn't have the strength to do so. I am devastated by Liam's passing. I send lots of love and hugs to his friends, family, relatives, fans and most of all, his son Bear. I wish from the depths of my heart, that we find peace, and at some point look back without anguish, but fully grateful to have had him in our lives, but that takes time and healing. Hugs and kisses to everyone, I love you all directioners. ❤
May Liam rest in peace.
....My sweet boy you'll be missed. I love you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for being part of the group of most important people that made me the woman I am today. You made a huge impact on me and, without you, I wouldn't be the way I am today. Thank you endlessly.
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magics-neptunes-things ¡ 9 months ago
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Good 4 U (2)
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Hello everyone!
Some of you asked for a second part for Good 4 U, so here it is! I will have the song running in my head for days again, but it's ok.
Tumblr was a pain in my ass today, I had to repost this like four time, so I hope everything is ok!
Enjoy ♥
TW : Menstrual pain, loss of consciousness, suggestive mention
PART 1 | PART 3
______________________________________________________________
After your first kisses, you and Katie kept seeing each other every day. Your departure from London having been rejected for the beautiful eyes of the Irish, you decided to find yourself a job, not wishing to live off your sister any longer. You could have taken a hotel, but Lia seemed so hurt when you made that suggestion that you quickly backed off. And because you love spending time with your sister, you decided to keep you two days a week just for the two of you, with no one around. Including her girlfriend and your… maybe girlfriend?
Katie never officially offered you to be, but your dates are punctuated with affectionate gestures, looks that you would qualify yourself as sappy and kisses. Katie regularly takes you to look at the stars in different places in London and you strongly suspect her of doing research of the best spots for it in London. But you think it’s really cute.
Just like the fact that Katie always finds a time to come see you in the cafe where you work when she is not far from London for her football matches. This morning is no exception. You automatically raise your eyes towards the front door when the bell rings and you smile when Katie appears. Dressed in Arsenal training, ready for training.
"It’s for you I think"
Liam, your colleague with whom you are almost always in doubles during your schedules, gives you a playful elbow in the ribs, making you roll your eyes. But you don’t hesitate to approach the counter with a little smile.
"Good morning Ma'am. What can I serve you today?"
"It’s Miss for the moment, thank you very much. And I will gladly have a mango-strawberry-banana smoothie."
Her eyes sparkle with malice and her smile is to die for. Your smile expands as you grab the ingredients you need to prepare Katie’s order.
"What time are you done?" Katie asked while you cut the banana into pieces.
"At 4:00. What about you?"
"Almost the same. I’ll pick you up and we’ll spend the evening together, is it ok?"
You glance at her with a little smile, finishing her order before placing it on the counter.
"With pleasure"
Katie gives you a satisfied smile before carrying the straw of her drink to her lips to drink, looking at you straight in your eyes. Sometimes you feel like she knows how overwhelmed you are by your own attraction to her and that she loves to play with it. But it amuses you as much as it does for her, once the heat waves she gives you have passed.
Peeking around to make sure no client or staff members are looking at you, Katie leans over you to drop a quick kiss on your lips as goodbye. Her lips smell like strawberries and you almost mechanically say goodbye to her hand when she leaves the establishment.
***
The rest of your day has been more complicated. As long as you can remember, your menstrual period has always been complicated for you. Over time, you have discovered that you suffer from endometriosis and sometimes the treatment you have been given is not really strong enough to relieve you. This is the case today, even though you took your treatment on time.
As time passes and the hour of the end of your service approaches, you are mixed between relief and anxiety. The pain is escalating and you’re glad you can get out of there, but you don’t have the guts to tell Katie that you need to cancel your date.
You really want to see her and you cross your fingers so that the pain disappears throughout the day.
Katie is smiling when you join her and you let her pass her arms around your shoulders to squeeze you against her, as you pass yours around her waist. Closing your eyes briefly, you bury your face in the hollow of her neck before releasing her. You then realize that Katie is studying you carefully, her eyebrows slightly gathered.
"You look tired"
You smile at her and shrug your shoulders, trying to adopt a light tone so as not to attract her suspicions any longer.
"A little, but it’s okay. I’m glad to see you"
"I’m glad to see you too" Katie smile back, kissing your cheek.
Taking you by the waist, Katie trains you to her car in which you settle with relief. Standing up when you have your cramps is always particularly difficult. You ask Katie about her day to keep her busy, discreetly massaging your upper thighs with your hands, hoping to relieve your pain. But we cannot say that it works very well.
You feel guilty when Katie announces that she has planned a walk in a park near you. A walk is probably the worst thing possible for you right now, but you didn’t tell Katie about your situation when you found her so you don’t dare to do it now either.
You manage not to attract the attention of Katie during the first part of the walk, clinging to her arm who probably took your behavior for affection. But the pain begins to be unmanageable. You can’t even focus on what Katie is telling you, her voice and accent making you feel like she’s away from you and not just by your side.
"Y/N?"
You try to shake yourself mentally, but you can’t. Your vision is black and you feel yourself falling. It’s only thanks to Katie’s arms that you don’t crash on the floor. When you regained consciousness a few seconds later, the Irish woman made you sit on a bench.
"Y/N what’s going on?"
The worry is audible in Katie’s voice and you feel uncomfortable having imposed this vision on her. You who hoped to continue to make her addicted to you, we cannot say that this is the best way to do it. You are embarrassed when you answer her, not finding the courage to look into her eyes.
"I… It’s nothing, I just have my period. Cramps are bad sometimes. I better go home"
You try to get up but Katie imitates you, her arm instantly finding place in the hollow of your back.
"I’ll take you home"
You don’t know if it’s a good idea, not sure Lia enjoys seeing you go home with Katie, but the tone of the latter clearly lets you understand that you have no choice. And you still have to admit that walking with Katie half-carrying you is a lot easier than walking alone.
"Thank you" you mumble to Katie when she parks in front of your home. "I’m sorry about our date. Can I still call you tomorrow?"
Katie doesn’t answer your question right away, which makes you look up at her. Again, she’s watching you carefully and you feel a little uncomfortable, writhing in your seat.
"I thought I’d stay with you"
You bite your lip briefly, hesitating between accepting and enjoying her comforting presence or refusing and keeping some of your pride. But you end up nodding and Katie literally jumps out of the vehicle to help you get out in turn.
On your way home, you come across a post-it note from Lia, informing you that she and Caitlin will be home late and that they went to the cinema and the restaurant. It’s probably better this way, so that Katie will have time to go home without getting anyone into trouble. You didn’t hide from your sister that you see Katie regularly and Lia always seems a little suspicious, but without judging or trying to forbid you anything. You know that there is only the desire to protect you there-behind and anyway the most wicked look of Lia is probably equivalent to that of a kitten.
"Tell me what I can do for you" Katie asks after accompanying you to your bed.
"This wasn’t how I imagined bringing you in my room for the first time" you point out while lying on your bed, watching Katie.
The Irish girl rolls her eyes with an amused smile but seems determined not to move until she has had a task. You stand up to rummage through your bedside table and get out your treatment.
"Water" finally decides Katie, leaving your room to go to the kitchen.
Katie knows Lia’s house pretty well, before you started dating Lia and Katie were friends for a while.
When you hear the characteristic noise of the kettle, you imagine that Katie decided to make you hot tea. So you take the opportunity to undress, putting on clothes much more comfortable than those you wore until now. When you lie down, Katie joins you and you quickly realize that it is not with a tea that she returns, but bottles of hot water.
"To ease the pain" informs Katie by giving them to you and you finally wonder if you will not propose to her.
"Thank you" you say however simply, hoping that the gratitude you feel is audible in your voice.
You pat the bed next to you, inviting Katie to lay down next to you.
The latter does not beg, getting rid of their shoes before settling next to you. Taking care to wrap you in your down, she then attracts you against her and you take advantage of the situation by burying your face in the hollow of her neck.
Her caresses on the back help you relax and you close your eyes for a few moments. You feel like you hear Katie’s brain smoking and you try to get out of your torpor to speak again.
"You don’t have to stay, you know?"
"I know. But I want to, if you agree, obviously"
You answer only with a vague throat noise, trying to get a little closer physically to her, in search of comfort. Katie is sweet and hot against you and this brings you a form of relief that you did not expect.
"You’re soft" you mumble
Katie laughs when she hears you and you open an eye so you can look at her.
"I’m not sure anyone called me soft before"
You smile despite yourself, moving slightly to be even more glued against her. Katie willingly lets you do it, tightening her arms around your waist.
"You're soft, and warm, and comfy"
"I'm a little hot" Katie confess. "Is it ok if I take my shirt off?"
You open an eye and nod, sitting in your bed to let Katie making herself comfortable. Deciding to get rid of her pants too, the Irish slips under the sheets and takes you against her. You seem to have read somewhere that the heat helps relieve cramps and you do not know if it is true or if it is also the case for menstrual cramps, but you enjoy feeling her skin against yours.
"Are you feeling better?"
"A little" you mumble
Your eyes are suddenly heavy, which is not surprising because you just took your medication and it make you feel sleepy. You still want to stay awake to be with Katie anyway, but it seems like she knows better.
"Sleep, Beautiful. You need to rest"
You mumble something about not wanting to sleep, but four seconds later and you're dead asleep. Katie stayed with you every single second of the time of your nap.
But you wake up an hour later, the pain starting again even stronger than before. You wake up wincing, your agitation having already attracted Katie’s concerns. Her caresses in your hair and on your face are pleasant and you appreciate the freshness of her hands, but it does not work to remove all the pain.
"I hate to see you hurt like that. What can I do?"
You don’t know, but you feel like that answer is definitely not going to work for Katie.
"Maybe a little more hot water for the bottles?"
"I'll be right back"
Katie slips out of bed, not without gently kissing you before, and you follow her with the look when she leaves the room. Katie lost in her thoughts and you fell asleep, you didn’t hear Caitlin and Lia coming home. If that were the case you probably wouldn’t have sent Katie dressed only in a t-shirt and her underwear to warm you up a little water.
Moreover, when she arrives in the kitchen, Katie almost makes a seizure by falling face to face with Lia. Under the surprise, Katie drops one of the bottles on the floor.
"What are you doing here?" Lia asks, frowning.
"The question I ask myself is more like why is she half dressed" laughs Caitlin, enjoying a yogurt, sitting on the stool next to the central island.
Your big sister’s gaze slips on the lower part of Katie, then suddenly rising to the height of her eyes, ready to shoot at the Irish woman.
"It’s not what you think" Katie immediately says, passing next to her to access the kettle. "We were walking in the park when Y/N started to feel bad"
"What’s wrong with her?" Lia immediately gets alarmed. "Why didn’t she write to me?"
"It’s her period" explains the Irish, filling the bottles with hot water.
Lia makes a grimace when hearing the information, she too is aware of the pain of your menstruation. She saw you struggling all your life with it.
"I brought her back here and stayed with her, but I don’t know what else I can do" the Irishwoman confesses before looking up at Lia. "Is there something that could help?"
"No, sometimes her medicine just doesn't work" made Lia sadly shrugging her shoulders while Caitlin makes a grimace as a sign of compassion "Hot water is a good idea"
Lia's voice is soft when she looks at her and Katie nods before apologizing to her teammates to come back to you quickly. Still in the same position, you watch her enter the room and look with a sigh of relief at the newly hot bottles.
"Thank you" you whisper with gratitude
You were going to take it, but Katie makes you lie on your back, gently pushing you by the shoulder, gently rolling the bottles on the different painful parts of your body.
"Oh god" you mumble, feeling the contraction of your muscles relax a little bit.
Katie answers nothing, content to smile softly when seeing that what she imagined seems to work. Her hands sometimes replace bottles and you find yourself being much more relaxed than you’ve been all day.
"It may be that your sister saw me leave the room in this outfit" informs you Katie
You can’t help but smile when you hear the information, trying to imagine Lia’s face. Katie seems worried about your reaction, but if things keep going the way you want, chances are the Irish girl will spend a lot of time at your home.
"It doesn’t matter" you assure nicely
Katie gives you a smile and now that she has managed to relax you a little, you are dying to feel her skin against yours. Your eyes cross and Katie’s movements with her bottle are interrupted.
"Can you hold me?" you whisper shyly.
"Of course"
You don't let her get back on her back, drawing her against you so that she feels pressed against you. Between that and the hot water bottles, the pain is almost tolerable. Head right next to yours, Katie looks at you a few moments before she resumes talking.
"I wanted to ask you something today"
"What is it?" you ask curiously.
You turn your eyes towards her when she puts one of your strands of hair back, trying to imagine what she might want to ask you. But she seems to hesitate and you bite your lower lip before talking again.
"Have you changed your mind?"
"No" quickly answers Katie "But first, I have another question to ask you"
"Go ahead?"
Looking at you carefully, Katie takes a small breath. You can feel the tension emanating from her body, even if it seems to be related to stress and not to pain, like yours.
"You said you weren’t planning on leaving London yet" Katie starts as you nod "But… Does that mean you’re going leave at some point?"
After you kissed in the halls of Meadow Park, you had a little chat. Deciding to see where your story will take you, you pushed back your departure to an unknown date.
You open your mouth to answer her, but Katie puts a finger on your lips, intimating you silence.
"Because the first question I wanted to ask you was whether you wanted to be my girlfriend. But I’m not sure I want a long-distance relationship. But I really like you and I need to know if the time we have together is short or if I, we, can hope for more"
Your heart accelerated when you heard Katie’s confessions, and you feel a little bad about not being clear enough with her. When Lia spoke to you briefly about Katie, she always described the young woman as being attentive to her friends and very loyal. You are happy to see that she was right and that there is a difference between Katie the hothead that can be seen on the football fields and the Katie outside.
"I’m sorry to talk about it now, I know this may not be the best timing"
"No, no, it’s fine" you say, finally speaking. "I’m sorry I misspoke. When I told you I didn’t know when I would leave London, it was because I didn’t plan to. I don’t know where our story is going, but I really want to explore it"
A wave of relief passes over Katie’s face as she looks at you with a new ray of hope in her eyes. You didn’t answer the rest of her sentence, the girlfriend part, because you don’t really know if it’s an official question or not. You don’t have to wait long though.
"Then would you agree to be my girlfriend?"
A smile on your lips, you bite your lower lip before answering.
"I would love to"
With a big smile on her lips, Katie gently puts her hand on your cheek and gently draws your face against hers. This is clearly not the first time you kiss, but this kiss has another flavor. Katie is your girlfriend. You are Katie McCabe's girlfriend.
***
"Y/N we're leaving in ten, you better being dressed and not naked in your bed making disgusting business!"
Groaning, you roll off your girlfriend, on which you were still deep asleep.
"I don’t know how Cait stand her" you grumble as you rub your eyes
"Stop it, you know you love her. And we were right to do our disgusting business last night" Katie comments, stretching before yawning.
You smile softly as you get out of bed, digging through your cupboard to choose your clothes. This year, your parents decided to leave your native Switzerland to celebrate Christmas with Lia and you in London. Katie and Caitlin are also there, as are some of Katie’s family members and Caitlin’s mother and sister. All this little world cannot fit in one house, so Caitlin’s family will sleep in her house, yours in Lia’s and yours, and Katie’s in her house as well.
In order to enjoy yourself longer, your parents are already arriving today and it has been agreed that you will pick them up at the airport.
"Do you really have to go in ten minutes?"
You turn towards Katie who looks at your almost naked body without the slightest bit of shame and discretion, making you laugh softly. You put on a t-shirt and pants and climb on four leg on the bed to put a kiss on your girlfriend’s lips. You knew before your lips touched that you wouldn’t come out of bed so soon, but you laugh when Katie’s arms wrap around your waist to draw you against her.
"Oh for the love of God"
Your sister’s voice sounds behind you and you roll on your back to get rid of Katie’s embrace, with whom you were always exchanging kisses. You may have lost track of time. The cushion that Lia throws at you bounces off your hands when you place them in front of your face to protect you, landing on Katie’s legs. You’re both very amused.
Even Lia cannot hold back her amused smile when she speaks again.
"Let’s go. Now."
Lia wait for you to get out of bed before leaving your room again. You hear her saying goodbye to Caitlin in the kitchen when you put on a sweatshirt that doesn’t belong to you.
"Hey, it’s mine! I’ve been looking for it for weeks!"
"Oops" you smile maliciously at Katie
You make a quick journey through the bathroom to refresh yourself and you are tying your hair in a messy bun when you return to your bedroom. Meanwhile, Katie stands up and doesn’t seem disturbed by your hands in your hair when she grabs you by the waist to draw you against her. Sometimes you wonder if she has Spanish origins, between her easy tanning and how tactile she can be with you.
"Will you still be here when we get back?" you ask Katie while she kisses your cheek and you finish to do your hair.
"You want me to?"
"Yes, but no pressure. You’ll have time to meet my parents later, if you prefer."
Now that your hair is tied properly, you gently put your arms around Katie’s neck.
"Then I’ll be there" Katie replies before kissing you affectionately.
"Y/N!"
Lia’s voice, although usually sweet, sounds from the front door, making you both laugh softly. That’s when Caitlin's head goes through your door frame.
"Although I like to take the time to relax after you annoy her, Y/N, out."
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monstermaniawrites ¡ 26 days ago
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Lost On You. Liam Mairi
TW!! Smut, Oral (M and F Receiving) reader has undisclosed scars on her legs, cockwarming,squirting, creampieing Minor minor angst, Not canon
Read at your own risk.
I do not own fourth wing it belongs to Rebecca Yarros.
This is my first work here
YN POV
It’s dark when we arrive. The cover of night and the storm that has freshly passed leaves the air smelling of salt and rain as the waves of the ocean lap at the shoreline far below the cliff edge.
“Something the matter?” a voice breaks off from the throng behind me, I don’t turn to see who it is though, eyes trained on the gorgeous display of stars. I never did night missions and this was my first. I pat the strong blue scaled foreleg of Durontei as I turn to look at the approaching rider. I raise my eyebrows in surprise when Liam stands there, his face flushed and a wineskin clasped in one hand. They must be celebrating then.
“That was fast” I quip, arms wrapped around my midsection as Durontei curls her scorpion tail around me with an obvious protectiveness. I glance up at her, watching her blink her golden eyes at Liam.
‘He’s not going to hurt me, you know.’
‘He has something to discuss with you.’ is all she says back as Deigh strides forward, swordtail swinging back and forth as he passes me and nudges his nose against Duronteis. Her tail unwinds from around me as she follows her mate and soon it’s just Liam and I standing alone on the cliff edge.
“So what do you want to talk about?” I swallow around the lump in my throat, hands tightening on my forearms as he takes a few steps closer. I can feel the anxiety radiating off of him as he watches me. I bend my knees subconsciously, stretching and keeping myself from tensing too much. Violet and I are too alike and it scares me sometimes. Especially because no one else knows. It’s the only reason no one treats me as fragile, not quite like everyone else does.
“Is it that obvious?” he asks almost breathlessly as he runs a hand through his hair. I tug on the band attached to my sleeve. It looped around my middle finger and kept the fabric from riding up.
“We took out that group of wyvern and successfully killed the venin controlling them.” he starts and I nod, watching as he attaches the wineskin to his belt before taking another step forward.
“There was a possibility of losing you today and that honestly scares the hell out of me.” His usually bright blue eyes are dark with emotion as he looks away from my eyes. My pulse jumps and my cheeks go warm as he steps closer again, now only about five feet away. I don’t move, too tense to move from my spot as he gets closer.
“I know we haven’t been able to see each other as often with me always being around Violet but I want you to know that you’re still my friend,” the word ‘friend’ makes my stomach knot and sink like a dead weight. I nod and attempt to clear my throat as I pull my shields tight around me. The door of my mothers front door locked tight to keep out Durontei’s thoughts as well as the surprising new link I have to Liam. I keep that tether of soft blue light tucked away from me, not wanting him to feel just how painful the word is.
“Thank you Liam. I appreciate that.” I lie through my teeth, clenching my jaw and praying that he doesn’t see through it. I can’t bring myself to look at him as I turn and start walking.
“Hey- where are you going?” he asks from behind me, confusion pulling at his speech and I bite back the sob that threatens to break from me as I wave a hand absently over my shoulder, tears streaking hot lines down my face. “Off to celebrate.”
Liam
I watch her back as she walks away, my grip tightening on my leg as I watch her walk away. She’s limping slightly and her shoulders are shifting in jerky motions. I don’t call after her, giving her some space as she disappears into the throng of tents spread out along the tunnel walls, walking deeper into the cave.
“What happened to confessing your feelings?” Xaden asks as he appears out of the shadows to my right and I surprisingly don’t react, unbothered by the appearance of my closest friend.
“I don’t know,” I start, running a hand through my hair and looking up at him as he stands beside me, arms crossed and dark eyes watching me expectantly.
“I froze, I didn’t know what to say.” I grit and he fucking rolls his eyes at me.
“Say what you think, if you can’t say it out loud tell her to through your bond.” my eyebrows jump up in surprise and he shakes his head.
“How do you-” “-also a part of a mated pair remember?” he cuts me off and gestures off to where Violet stands talking with our friends. Suddenly a lot of their behavior makes sense. The silent staring contests, knowing info as it’s being given.
“I don’t know why I’m surprised.” I scratch my rebellion relic absentmindedly as I glance off in the direction she had walked off. The thought of her hair having been pulled back away from her face, lines around her eyes and across her nose from her flight goggles made it impossible not to warm me.
“Do you feel this way about Violet?” I ask quietly and he pauses and watches me as I clench my fist against my flight leathers above my heart.
“Like you can’t breathe when she’s not right next to you?” Xaden looks down at the ground and adjusts his stand. I’ve known him long enough to know his tells.
“Yes” is a simple word but it shows how vulnerable he is when it comes to Violet.
“And do you think it’s worth telling her how you feel?” I ask and he looks at me again.
“I think it’s worth showing her if I can’t tell her.” He takes the final step closer to me, clapping a palm against my back before walking back towards Violet. I turn instead and walk into the crowd of tents and head in the direction of hers. How do I show her? Consensually without her kicking my ass at least. Heat flashes down my spine suddenly, hot pulsing need twists my stomach and I have to stagger between tents and fires to get to the cave wall. It’s rough and cold under my palm and I rest my forehead against it as another wave of heat washes over me. I squeeze my eyes shut as I pull at the neck of my leathers, heat building and making sweat slick my skin.
“Liam?” I turn at the sound of a new voice and nearly vomit when Violet stands in front of me.
“Oh shit are you-” she stops short when she looks me over and I look down when I see her lips curve up into a smirk. My eyes nearly bulge out of my head when I see the hard on currently stretching the fabric of my clothes.
“Shit! Violet, I don't know what's going on!” I whisper yell, turning quickly and she snickers behind me.
“Liam, it seems like Deigh and his mate are getting busy” she snorts and the heat under my skin flares bright. If Deigh and Durontei are doing what she’s implying then that means…..
I swallow hard and fight to control my aching body as she steps to the side.
“I saw her go into her tent a few minutes ago.” She gestures in the direction of the back of the cave and I don’t waste a second before bolting. If her dragon’s currently coupling with his then she could be just as affected by them as I am. I feel her down the bond, the gentle throbbing of our bond draws me towards her. I weave between tents and people, trying to keep my erection under control until I get to her. Another wave of heat nearly takes me to my knees as I stagger and shake my head.
As soon as my knees stop wobbling I try my best to straighten when I feel that heat simmering down our bond from her and I nearly come undone on the spot. I see the faint glow of a lantern through the fabric of the tent, in the faint flicker I see shadows moving and I bite back the groan that builds at the base of my throat.
I stand in front of the fabric that makes up the only barrier separating me from her. I breathe deeply and slowly before speaking, looking up at the glittering top of the cave.
“Hello? It’s Liam,” I hear something clatter and the shadow moves before the fabric of the door shifts and unbound hair hangs around a flushed face. Her lips are parted as she pants, wide eyes staring at me in obvious panic and surprise. She had changed out of her leathers and into a loose long sleeved shirt that cut a V down the center of her chest, a leather cord woven through it. A long dark skirt obscured her legs from me and I can’t help the image I’ve thought of before from flashing through my head.
“What can I do for you Li?” she asks me, her eyes still wide and I swallow hard, mouth dry as I suddenly am at a loss for words.
“Can I come in?” I ask after what feels like forever and nearly groan when she licks her bottom lip. Her pink tongue darting out and wetting her lips. “Yeah of course” She smiles at me and steps to the side to let me in. The first thing I notice is the smell of her that engulfs me. Soft and sweet and so uniquely her. A mat and a few blankets and pillows from the supply carts are spread about on the floor while her pack sits beside the entrance of the tent. I sit down on the blanket to the left and pull my boots off and set them to the side. She follows, hiking up her skirt to expose the scarred skin of her thighs and calves. I breathe through my nose and close my eyes for a moment, trying to center myself.
When I open my eyes she’s sitting beside me, her back to the entrance of the tent. Her knees are pulled to the side while she rests her hands in her lap.
YN POV
I fight the urge to lean into his warmth as I sit next to him, the urge to press my hands between my thighs to relieve some of the tension I’m feeling due to our dragons is strong but I don’t give in. I keep them in my lap as I sweat and try not to pant like a dog in heat as the man I’m desperately in love with sits beside me.
“So what did you want to talk-” I stop short and nearly topple over as a wave of heat flashes me from head to toe, warmth making my stomach tingle and my cunt throb as every brush of the fabric of my shirt touches my sensitive skin.
“Fuck” He groans, hunching and holding his stomach as he pants in front of me. I keep from reaching out and touching the pretty blonde locks of hair that are sweat slicked to his forehead and cheeks.
“I want you” He blurts and I still, I don’t even breathe as I process the words and he looks up. His pretty eyes watch me with such softness and lust that it makes me dizzy.
“I want you more than I’ve wanted anything in my life and it scares the shit out of me. I almost lost you and I realized that if I didn’t tell you, that if I was too much of a coward to do that then how am I worthy of you?” He runs a hand through his hair and my heart thunders in my chest as he looks at his rebellion relic.
“I’m cursed. I’m the son of a traitor and I have a lot of secrets,” he keeps going but he reaches out and takes my right hand. His skin is warm and rough against mine, the shine of the mark on his skin reflects off the candle light as he sits up on his knees and looks down at me, determination in his eyes as he gently cups my face with his free hand.
“Nothing can keep me from you. I’ve been in love with you since before Threshing and I’ll be damned if I didn’t at least tell you.” he looks so focused as I look up at him. His mouth pulls into a soft smile, dimple becoming visible on his cheek.
I open my mouth to respond but I gasp out instead as a shock of pleasure shoots down my spine. I grip his hand with one of mine and the other flies to his hip, holding on for stability as he curls in towards me at the same moment. I shake as my nipples pebble and brush against the fabric of the shirt. I swallow the saliva that’s pooling in my mouth as I fight to regain my composure.
“Fuck” he bites out, head dropping so that his mouth is pressed into the crown of my head, his warm breathing making my scalp tingle. I scratch my nails across the leathers and take a deep breath through my nose, cracking my eyes open and fighting the urge to moan at the tent in his pants.
“Are you okay?” he whispers against my hair and I nod shakily. The hand cupping my face squeezes my jaw and I part my lips, panting through my mouth as he pulls away and looks down at me with pupils blown wide, nearly swallowing the blue I love so much. His cheeks are flushed as I look him over, taking him in and soaking in the heat coming off him.
“I want you” I whisper and he goes very still.
“I feel barely worthy of you but here you are, bonded to me like our dragons are bonded to one another and you’re confessing your feelings for me. This is not quite how I was expecting this evening to go” I snort softly as my lips tilt up slightly. His eyes go soft and he leans down, pressing his mouth to mine and I don’t fight, closing my eyes and losing myself to the feeling of him as he holds my face close to his. He tastes like liquor and chocolate and when his tongue gently touches my bottom lip I eagerly part my lips for him. He moans deep into my mouth and tilts his head to the side, deepening the kiss as his tongue slicks against mine.
That heat builds and builds all on its own now, his hands cupping my face while I hook my fingers into the waistband of his pants.
“Been wanting to kiss you for so long” he murmurs against my mouth, pulling away only for a moment to tug at the leathers and I waste no time helping him undo the ties and clasps.
Once he’s down to the black long sleeved shirt he wears underneath I can’t keep from sliding my hands under the warm fabric and allow my fingertips to trail up his stomach and abs.
He lets out a choked groan and slips a hand into the hair at the base of my neck and squeezes so that my neck arches to look up at him.
“Careful pretty girl,” he warns, sliding a hand down the side of my neck and under the neckline of my shirt. His large warm palm slides down my spine, his face nearing mine as his hand meets the small of my back and then he’s kissing me again and pulling me up against him, hooking an arm under my legs and laying me flat. I reach up, hands still under his shirt and wrap my arms around his neck and look down at the perfect muscles of his chest and stomach and then to the trail of blonde hair that leads down his navel.
“I want this off” I murmur against his mouth and he doesn’t hesitate in leaning back and pulling the fabric over his head and tossing it to the side. His chest is slick with sweat and the curling tail of his bond relic to Deigh disappears under his pants.
“Your turn” he grabs the hem of my shirt and I lift my arms and arch my back as he pulls the clothing from my body.
I shiver as the cool air touches my skin and Liam moans deep in his throat, my thighs clenching at the sound to apply some pressure.
“You’re so fucking pretty” He growls against the skin of my cheek as he trails his lips down the exposed expanse of skin.
“I’ve never seen your relic before” he runs a hand down the curve of my right side and I fight the shiver that crosses my skin, his warm fingers tracing the path of Durontei’s wings underneath my breasts, her head hovering over my belly button.
“Absolutely fucking gorgeous” he sounds absolutely wrecked when he says it and I shiver as his eyes take in my peaked nipples before he’s sucking one into his mouth. I gasp, wrapping an arm around his head and lacing my fingers in his hair as I rest my cheek on the side of his head, panting directly into his ear as he swirls his tongue around the sensitive skin of my chest.
Liam POV
I nearly come in my pants at the sound of her breathy little gasps. She knows exactly what she’s doing as I run my hands up her spine, pushing her back into an arch, her chest pressing up into my face. her cheek is pressed against the side of my head as I used the tip of my tongue to spell her name over and over across the sensitive flesh before swapping to the other nipple and giving it the same treatment.
“Liam please!” She whimpers into the shell of my ear, her lips brushing against me with each word. She’s flushed and panting, her fingers still curled into my hair as I look at the purple marks I left around her relic. I look down at the waistband of her skirt and then I grab the fabric by her knee and pull it up. She has two sheaths, one on each thigh and each armed with two knives each. Gods she’s so fucking sexy.
“Gods you’re so fucking beautiful” I tell her and she darts her eyes away bashfully but I don’t let that go, grabbing her chin gently and pulling her to look at me.
“Lemme taste you pretty girl, please?” another surge of heat flares in my spine and she gasps at the same time as my cock throbs in time with my heartbeat.
“Thank gods” I groan as I shove the fabric up to bunch around her hips and the sight before me absolutely undoes me. I shake as I see that she’s already bare underneath her skirt, leaving her gorgeous and on display. Her slick is smeared on the insides of her thighs, her cunt swollen and shiny as she tries to close her legs but I don’t let her. Holding her ankles apart and she whines.
“Were you touching yourself before I got here?” I murmur lowly and she stills, her cheeks ruddy and her eyes blinking up at me wetly.
“Fuck you where werent you” I throw my head back and swallow, hand running over my face as she gasps softly. I jump at the sudden feeling of her smaller hand brushing up my inner thigh towards my still throbbing hard on. I flush as I see the dark fabric and register the heavy wet feeling that surrounds my cock as she looks at the spot. I swallow down the embarrassment at the look of pure hunger in her eyes. She bites her plush bottom lip and then grips my hip with a hand and looks up at me.
“Was this because of me?” She whispers and I shudder as she licks her lips again and I nod slowly, gently I grab her hand, dragging it to the bulge in my pants. I hiss at the contact, still sensitive as I squeeze her hand around me softly.
“All of this is because of you” I tell her and move her hand over me. I bit down on my lip, fighting the urge to moan as I hear footsteps pass the tent. I press the back of my hand against my mouth as she leans forward and mouths at the cum soaked fabric of my pants, her warm tongue soaking the fabric even more as I throw my head back resisting the urge to just grab and fuck her.
“Wanna taste you Li, please.” She practically whines as she nuzzles my bulge again and I’m quick to unbuckle the belt and shove my pants down my thighs, my boxers following quickly after. The cool air against my cock makes me pant as I feel every part of my body tense. I look down at her spread out in front of me, propped up on her elbows and gazing at me from under her lashes as I stand and finish taking my clothes off, standing naked in front of her before I kneel in front of her again.
“Come here beautiful” I hold my hand out to her, tracing my fingers over her calf and ankle, marveling at the thin silver lines cut into her skin from her past.
I grip her ankle and press a kiss to the side of her foot before moving up her ankle and back up her calf. I make it past her knee and she whines, hands combing through my hair and tugging me to look at her.
“Wanted to taste you first” She’s fucking pouting at me as I look up from my spot, lips hovering over her thigh as I throw her leg over my shoulder.
“But baby I wanna take care of you.” I murmur, eyes never leaving hers as I brush my lips over her inner thigh, the skin prickling with gooseflesh as I breathe deeply. The scent of her makes me want to bury myself here forever. I could die happily between her legs.
“But-” I cut her off before she can get much further, using the flat of my tongue to lick the slick leaking from her pretty cunt, tasting her with a moan. She squeaks out and snaps her legs shut, throwing her head back. I wrap my arms around her thighs, humming into her warmth as I lick over the swollen bud above her center.
“Fuck Liam just like that!” She squeals and arches her back and I swirl my tongue around her clit, flicking it up and down as she shakes, squeezing her thighs tight around my head, my hearing being muffled by the strong muscles.
I wedge a hand under the small of her back while I use my middle and ring finger to circle her entrance before pressing them inside. She's tight and warm and pulsing around my fingers. The harder I lick the more she shakes. I’m kneeling over her at this point, her body folded in half for me as her hands hold my face tight against her. I don’t stop moving my tongue, don’t stop as she squeals and starts to push my head away.
“Liam please! Too much! Too much!” despite her words she digs her heels into my shoulders, holding me against her as she scratches her nails into my shoulders.
She’s close, I can feel it as she begins to spasm and I close my eyes sucking her clit into my mouth at the same time as I smack a hand over her mouth gently, her lips parting under my palm as she cums hard against my face. The gush of wetness floods my mouth and coats my chin as she spasms under my hold, her hands gripping the wrist of the hand covering her mouth.
Slowly I pull my hand back and unwind her legs from my head, my ears ringing slightly as I sit back on my heels and brush the hair out of my face with my damp hand. I watch her eyes flutter as I suck her juice soaked fingers into my mouth, sucking as much of her taste from my skin as I can.
YN POV
I lay in absolute bliss for a moment, slowly regaining the feeling in my fingers and toes first. I’ve never came that hard before in my life and he’s not even fucked me yet.
“How are you feeling?” he asks me, his voice hoarse as he wipes my slick from his chin. I flush warm as I let my eyes roam over his fucked out expression to the flush thats spread from his neck down his chest, my scratch marks line his shoulders and a few are even scabbing. He’s breathing heavily and I can’t help but look at the bobbing length of him in front of my face. I watch him take his fingers into his mouth and the way his eyes close in bliss. I don’t miss the way his cock jumps at the same time as he licks slick from his top lip. I unclip my sheaths and let them fall, my skirt quick to follow so that I’m laying naked under him.
His eyes open and watch me as I shakily shift to sit up on my knees, his hand extending to my waist to help steady me. I rest a hand on his chest, the other settling on his hip as I lean closer to him. I look up at him, eyes moving from those beautiful blues to his swollen lips.
“Let me take care of you?” I whisper against his mouth, his other hand grabbing my hair and holding me close, kissing me hard.
“Whatever you want it’s yours” he promises as I pull back and sit on my heels, gesturing for him to stand. Once he does I take his hand and pull him closer until he stands in front of me. He watches as I take his length in my hand, more long than girthy but he has a beautiful curve and he throbs in my palm, a prominent vein runs along the side and I slowly trace my thumb over it. He exhales a shaky moan but doesn’t look away as I take the swollen pink tip between my lips and lap up the pre that leaks onto my tongue. I feel his hand comb through my hair, pushing the hair away from my face and holding it in a loose fist at the back of my skull.
I begin to bob my head, hands settling on his thighs as saliva pools and drips in globs onto his thighs and my chest. With each thrust into my mouth I take him deeper and deeper, gagging when he touches the back of my throat.
“Fuck pretty girl.”
“That feels so fucking good”
“Don’t stop- please gorgeous”
“Gods look how good you look sucking my cock”
With every filthy word the more enthusiastic I become. I don’t relent until my nose is pressed into the patch of blonde hair at the base of his cock, his breathing ragged and deep as his thighs shake.
“I can feel you swallowing me down- barely even gagging look at you”
I bob my head faster and faster, letting him hold tight to my head and thrust his hips into my mouth.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck I’m close pretty girl”
“Where do you want it?”
“Your face? Your tits? Or do you want my cum on that pretty tongue?”
At his last words I swallow him down as deep as I can, sticking my tongue out as far as I can and he throws his head back, growling low in his throat as he snaps his hips forward. I hold onto his thighs and breathe when I can, my throat will be aching after this but I don’t care. If I’m making him feel this good then I don’t care what it does to me as long as I can see the way his eyes roll into the back of his head and his chest flushes.
“Cumming cumming cummingggggggg” He moans, hips jolting lightly as warmth fills my throat, I fight back from gagging and swallow every drop he gives me.
When I’m sure I’ve sucked him dry I attempt to pull back but he keeps a hand firmly on the back of my head, his cock has only softened slightly, his eyes sparkle as I look up at him in confusion.
“You just look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, just wanted to look at this sight a little longer” my belly warms at his words, his fingers carding through my hair as I lean my cheek against his thigh.
After a moment he slowly tugs my head back until his cock falls from my mouth wetly.
“How are you feeling?” He kneels in front of me and grabs my waterskin and hands it to me. I smile in thanks and take a few deep sips before handing it back and waiting until after he’s finished drinking before I move a little closer.
I let my eyes roam over his perfect body and the sharp curves of his jaw and the strong corded muscle in his arms and chest that flex under my touch. I trace my fingers over the bare skin of his shoulder and feel that warmth in my belly spread further through me, my blood warming as his eyes roam over me as well.
“What are you thinking?” he asks me softly, hand coming to gently trace my side before a finger circles my nipple, drawing a shaky breath from my lips.
“Fuck me” I don’t look away from him as the soft look in his eyes shifts to something more hungry, territorial.
“Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you?” his voice drops a few octaves as he watches my mouth, fingers tugging at my nipples now. I wince and hiss at the sharp pain from the tugging but it only proves to make them more sensitive when he draws his fingers delicately over the swollen skin.
“I’m not gonna do it unless you tell me” he growls and I narrow my eyes on him.
“I just did-” the words are barely out when he’s grabbing me by the throat and pulling me close to him. He's strong and holding my throat tight enough to keep me in place but not enough to cut off my airflow.
“Are you giving me attitude?” His words are calmly deceptive as he narrows his own eyes at me and I can’t hide the way I clench my thighs in arousal because holy shit, he’s sexy when he's putting me in my place.
“If I am?” I ask slowly and he raises an eyebrow at me, lips narrowing into a straight line as he tilts his head.
“Then I can’t fuck you baby. Only good girls get cock.” He murmurs to me and my lips part in shock. No way, he wouldn’t.
“But-” “Come on pretty girl, be good for me and I’ll fill you up nicely for the rest of the night. You just need to ask politely” his smile is all sin as I snap my mouth closed and furrow my eyebrows.
I see movement somewhere below me and when I glance down I can’t help but stagger. He’s got a hand wrapped around his hard and leaking cock now standing at attention all over again as his eyes roam over me.
Liam POV
I watch her eyes as the cogs turn in her head. I touch myself, relieving some of the pressure as she watches. And then, she’s dropping back down to her knees on the blankets and lays down on her back, hair spread around her head like a halo. She spreads her legs so I can see the dripping slit practically calling me to it. She cups her breasts with her hands and I can’t help but take in the gorgeous pictures she’s putting on display for me.
“Please Liam, need you to fill me up so badly. Only you” She bites her lip and I can’t resist, can’t hold my composure as I fall onto her, catching myself as my hands hit the ground on either side of her head and she looks up at me with needy eyes.
“I love you” the way her eyes soften when she says it makes my heart soar and affection flares as I gently brush my lips across her cheeks, brushing the loose hair from her face.
“I love you” I whisper back and kiss her gently, then kiss both her cheeks and over the side of her neck. I hike her thighs up around my waist as I collect some of the slick from her cunt before smearing it over my cock.
I gently press the tip of my cock against her entrance, the warm wetness of her begging for me. I gently take one of her hands in mine, our fingers laced together as I press my hips forward. She’s so tight that I have to move slowly enough not to cum right then as she arches her back and moans. I lean over her quickly and press my mouth to hers. Her free arm comes up and wraps around my neck as she pants against my mouth. Once I’ve bottomed out I hold still, waiting the agonizing seconds until I can move.
I kiss over her face gently before pulling back slightly and then pushing back in. pleasure flares through me and she bites down on her lip as I slowly build a rhythm.
“Gods look at you taking me so well” I coo and lower myself over her, face tucking into the croak of her neck and breathing her in as I pick up the pace.
“Liam please- fuck you’re filling me so good” she scratches into my back, nails sinking deep and I know I’ll have fresh scars in the morning. Heat builds at the base of my spine as I sit back up and lean back on my heels and pull her half onto my lap, arching her back and I press my palm against her abdomen moaning low, just for her as I feel the quick press of my cockhead against my palm through the soft skin of her navel.
“Don’t worry pretty girl, I’ve got you I promise.” I grit out softly, the sound of wet skin slapping together and her soft moans fill the tent as she tightens around me until I can barely move.
“I’m gonna cum Li- Please I’m gonna cum” at her words I look down and meet her fucked out expression, her mouth hanging open and her wet pink tongue on display as I lean down and spit into her open mouth.
She arches and keens as she goes tight around me wetness coats my cock and sprays against my abdomen, soaking the blankets as she shakes. I thrust one, two, three more times before I pressed into her deep, my face buried in her chest as I filled her with my cum. I breathe her in and keep my arms wrapped around her as we both breathe in the quiet of her tent.
“Liam” she calls my name softly and I look down at her. She’s so soft beneath me and I can’t believe I get to hold her as she brushes her fingers over my cheek.
“I love you” She whispers and I lean into her touch, soaking in her warmth. “I love you”
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elisadaughtry ¡ 1 month ago
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*TW LIAM PAYNE*
DO NOT LEAVE HATE UNDER THIS POST OR ON MY PAGE.
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This is not normally my content, and many of you don’t know me personally. But I was and still am a huge One Direction fan. Liam’s passing has left me heartbroken, truly.
Even as I write this post it still doesn’t feel real. It should never have to feel real in the first place. Mourning one of the people I looked up to is devastating and tragic. Especially a member of the band who did so much for me, this still doesn’t make sense…
How can there be another one direction anniversary, not one for celebrating the boys, but for mourning one? What do you mean there’ll come a time when we say, “It’s been five years since Liam passed” or “It’s been ten”? Just two days ago, he was alive, breathing in this world—he should be alive now. Yet here we are, marking time in shadows, having to count the days that he will never see, and counting the days when we stopped seeing him.
I know this post is selfish as I do not have a personal relationship with Liam Payne, but I don’t care. There’s still that hollow, distant ache from knowing he’s gone. And not just “hiatus” gone, but truly gone.
I hope this post finds the right people, who are also mourning and grieving such a tragic loss.
Yes, I am aware of his situation and the likely allegations against him, but it’s still hard to say goodbye to someone who shaped your childhood. Who is the reason for so many friendships and memories? I will always be thankful for him, not just One Direction. It was Liam who connected me to one of my best friends.
Years ago, One Direction wasn’t just music for me—it was the thread that connected me to my best friend. We bonded over every song, every lyric, every interview, and so much of that joy came from Liam. We used to sit in class, quoting his lines and dance from “Best Song Ever” like it was our little secret, laughing when no one else got it.
I’ll never forget how alive we felt in those moments, reciting his words like they belonged to us. He made us feel like we were part of something bigger like we were in on this beautiful world he helped create. Every note he sang, every lyric he penned, every hour spent shaping sounds in the studio breathed life into One Direction, elevating them to their brightest heights. His voice, his vision—he was woven into the very spirit of what made them unforgettable. He was a constant source of comfort and happiness, something that lifted us when everything else felt so heavy. He was inspiring in a way that few people can be—he showed that vulnerability and strength could exist together and that it’s okay to be real in a world that sometimes demands you to be perfect. But despite it all, Liam was a light—one that would never go out.
So say what you will about him, but I will still grieve over him.
Thank you Leeroy for the best memories a girl could have 🩷 Your absence will be noticed.
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May peace and kindness finally find you 💜💔
Praying for his family, especially the son he left behind. I know what a fatherly absence feels like and wouldn’t wish it on anyone, especially such a young child. Can’t imagine his confusion and anger right now.
Also, praying for all the other boys right now and their families.
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anchorandrope ¡ 27 days ago
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“It will never change me and you” Thank you Liam ❤️🕊️
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Today, October 26, 10 days after Liam passed away, I went to CasaSur (the hotel) to pay tribute to him. It was not until today that I was able to muster enough strength and courage to go there, together with a dear friend I made thanks to the One Direction fandom, @larryisinlove. We also pay tribute on behalf of our group of friends we met here on Tumblr years ago, @eclipsadxs.
I have no words to describe how I feel right now. I can't really express myself properly, but I just know that I miss you. I hope one day I will be able to explain better all that you mean to me, but the shock of your early passing, in my country, in my city... is simply too big to explain my feelings now. I just want to say I love you Liam, and share this so I don't feel alone.
That candle was for you, rest in peace Payno 🧡
Sending a lot of love and energy to each one of you, you are not alone ❤️‍🩹 I love you all.
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forwhump ¡ 1 month ago
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a/n; some belated robin backstory 🥲 for doughnut, who I promised this to months ago & then FORGOT IM SO SORRY IM JUST AN AIRHEAD I WASNT INTENTIONALLY BEING A DOUCHE I LOVE YOU MORE THAN ANYTHING (I remembered out of nowhere within like ten minutes of finding out liam died so that’s why it took even longer)(I loved 1d 💔)(& bleach finally animated my WORST CHARACTER DEATH so I’ve had a really hard week)(if I was still 13 I’d be institutionalized)
word count: 4k (I only feel like I need to add a word count when these are especially long so idk why everything I’ve posted recently has been especially long that’s my bad 😔)
tw/cw: kidnapping, captivity, implied rape/noncon, drug use, misgendering, transphobia, dehumanization, medical torture, lobotomies, mentions of the military, passing threats of violence against pregnant women, implied human experiments
When Robin’s a kid, just a couple weeks after his dad dies, his mom brings home a new baby. A girl.
She’s really little but she shrieks at a pitch so loud and so shrill that sometimes it gives him headaches. Other times, it puts him in such a bad mood he has to rip all the sheets off his bed or all the posters down from his walls. She doesn’t really do anything but scream or sleep and still, his mother dotes on her, treats her like she’s the most precious thing in the world.
Robin doesn’t get it. He doesn’t even really like her. He’d wanted a brother, anyway.
The baby’s first word is mama, which Robin doesn’t think is all that impressive. Her second word, however, is Rob, and he doesn’t know until he gets home from school and she squeals so loudly it makes his ears ring, clapping her little hands together.
“Rob!” She squeals. “Rob!”
“She’s been waiting all day for you,” his mother says with a smile.
He drops his backpack so he can pick her up, and she squeals again as she clings to him. “Rob!”
He doesn’t even try not to cry because he doesn’t realize he’s started crying until his mother wipes away his tears. After, of course, she takes a picture that she later has framed. A picture that he takes down and hides.
When Robin’s old enough, care of the farm falls pretty solely on his shoulders. He’d been expecting it — man of the house, all that. His sister’s very much a girl, all blonde and giggly, pink and frills, and their mother gets her into pageants when she’s still really small and pageantry comes with a pretty intense base level of maintenance. When mom washes her hair, it’s a whole day event. It’s kind of absurd.
When she first starts trying to follow him out onto the farm, he thinks it’s just to bother him. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s chosen to do something for the sake of being annoying. She asks, then she begs, then she just puts on her boots and tries to follow. When he ends up locking her in the basement to keep her inside, she tries tantrums, then she stomps to their mother and pouts.
“Take your sister with you,” she chastises.
Robin groans loudly. “She’s just gonna get in the way!”
She stomps a small foot and cries, “I can help!”
“No, you can’t!” Robin tells her. “You’re just a baby! And you’re scared of the horses!”
“You can’t tell me what I can’t do!” She shrieks. “I can help!”
“You can’t help!”
“Stop screaming,” their mother says, “both of you.”
“I can help, mama,” she whines.
“She’ll break a nail and throw a fit,” Robin groans.
“I don’t care!”
“You’d better care,” Mom says. “Be careful.”
She brightens, immediately done crying. “So I can go?”
“No,” Robin says, and her face falls again.
“I can help,” she whines. “Let me show you!”
“Let her show you,” Mom says.
Robin groans the whole way out. She skips beside him.
He eats his words, in the end. Even if it’s just to prove Robin wrong, she ends up being a big help. Not with the horses, not at all, but with almost everything else.
Turns out it’s because her motives aren’t to prove Robin wrong at all — she just wanted to get out to the cows. As soon as she’s finished, once Robin’s back is turned, he’s saying something like, “I can’t believe you weren’t totally useless,” and he looks back around and she’s gone, out to pasture. He finds her frolicking with the cows, laughing delightedly.
It’s like that for a few months. She follows him out, helps with actual farm work as quickly as she can, then disappears out to pasture to hang out with the cows. For the rest of their lives there together, in their childhood home, their jobs change; she tends to her cows, and Robin does everything else. It isn’t exactly fair, but Robin had grown up fully expecting to have to do all of it himself.
They settle into their routine, and they stick to it for years.
As soon as Robin’s eighteen, he enlists. He doesn’t hesitate. He’d always known he was going to.
His mom knows. She’s proud of him. He doesn’t tell his sister, because she won’t be.
When she finds out, she throws every plate in the house at him. Breaks every one.
The moon hangs low above the farm, casting everything in watery silver light. She sits on the fence in her boots and a pageant dress, this one so white and sparkly it kind of glows in the moonlight and it makes her look, frankly, like a ghost. She’d taken the pins out of her hair and it looks spectral, a cloud around her.
They’ve been passing a series of increasingly potent celebratory joints back and forth — she’d won a world title tonight, something that warranted a series of increasingly potent celebratory joints back and forth — and her ghost is really starting to crack him up.
“You’re being a dick,” she says, but she’s giggling helplessly. “I look so beautiful.”
“I can’t even look at you,” Robin says, and he isn’t lying, turned away as he laughs. “It’s making me mourn.”
She laughs so loudly she almost falls backwards off the fence, and that sets Robin off again.
He leaves next week. Six days exactly, the day after his very last high school exam. He hasn’t told her yet, and he doesn’t want to, especially not now, but he’s running out of time. He can’t leave without saying something, anything, but he’s tempted.
It’s almost like she’s read his mind. “Can I talk to you about something?” She asks carefully, and something in her tone makes Robin’s shoulders tense.
“If you’re pregnant you’re getting thrown down the stairs, girl,” he says. She snorts. “Mom’s gonna be pissed.”
“I’m not pregnant,” she says.
“I’m leaving on Friday,” Robin responds. He doesn’t mean to.
Uncomfortably quick, her face goes blank. “What?”
“Fuck,” Robin says. “I didn’t mean to tell you that.”
“What do you mean, you leave next week?” She asks slowly.
Robin looks away, out at her cows. “I fly out,” he says, “after exams.”
“Fly where?” She asks, now completely flat.
He doesn’t look at her, but he tries to smile. “My first tour.”
She doesn’t say anything for such a long time that he finally turns again, he looks at her.
She swings, and her fist gets him hard between the eyes. She doesn’t say another word to him as she leaves, and she doesn’t say goodbye to him before he goes. After that, he didn’t really expect her to.
War is hell.
Men are monsters.
The first time Robin gets to come home, it’s so good to be home. It’s the most unbelievably light thing he’s ever experienced, like taking his first, clean breath. He almost starts to understand the military appeal; the comedown after is the high.
When he gets home, his sister is trying not to be weird around him but she is, very blatantly. He thinks it’s because of how they left things; he’s wrong.
“Can we talk?” She asks, and there’s something so severe in her face that he thinks she’s probably cutting contact with him. It’s kind of a low blow. It stings.
He sits across from her, anyway. Waits.
For a long time, she doesn’t say anything else. She doesn’t look at him. She doesn’t lift her head.
“Okay, what’s going on?” He asks finally. “Are you okay?”
She exhales loudly, but her voice is so small he can barely hear her when she says, “yes.”
“Then what’s up?” He probes. “What’s going on? You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“No,” she says into her hands, “I’m not always pregnant,” and takes another deep breath. Robin waits. He gives her the time she needs, watches the way her shoulders move as she takes deep breaths, watches the way her hands tremble, hiding her face. Robin keeps his voice level and his hands steady and he waits, but he’s waiting for the worst. He isn’t sure exactly what he’s expecting, but he’s expecting it to be bad. He isn’t expecting, “I’m trans, Rob.”
She still doesn’t look at him. She still doesn’t lift her head. Robin says, “what?”
“I’m trans,” she tells her hands.
“Trans what?” Robin asks, and she does lift her head, then.
“What?” She says, like she can’t tell if he’s serious. “Gender?”
“What?” Robin repeats.
“Oh my god,” she says. “I’m a boy, Robin.”
“What?” He says, because he still doesn’t get it. Then, “oh.”
“Yeah,” she says, and — well, he says, actually. He says it, and he drops his head again, covering his face with his hands and the sheet of his hair. “Sorry,” he mutters.
“What?” Robin repeats. He’s gotten himself stuck in a weird loop. He’s thinking faster and a lot more than he usually does. “What’s — why are you sorry?”
“I don’t know,” she says. He says. He’ll get better at that. He’s an adaptable guy.
“Gonna have to stop overthinking,” Robin tells him. “Guys don’t do that.”
His back stiffens. He doesn’t lift his head. “What?”
“It’s why we sleep better,” he explains.
Reluctantly, he lifts his head. He’s always had a deceptively sweet face, kind of doe eyed, but when he looks at Robin he looks so scared, genuinely scared, that it kind of hurts Robin’s feelings. “Rob,” he croaks.
“Can’t doubt yourself like that,” Robin tells him, trying to shrug off the tension, and when he still can’t quite meet his eye Robin stretches a foot out across the carpet to kick him in the ankle. “Guys don’t do that.”
He barely looks at him from beneath his eyelashes, but he looks at him, and that’s progress. “This isn’t a joke,” he says.
“I know,” Robin agrees.
“I’m serious,” he says. “I’m seriously coming out to you right now.”
“I know,” Robin agrees again.
She covers her face again, and — he covers his face again, and it isn’t until Robin really looks that he realizes his shoulders are shaking. That he realizes — “do you have a…name? A new one?”
He hesitates for a long time before finally pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. With a sniffle, he says, “Wren, I think.”
“Wren,” Robin considers. He looks across their mother’s favourite gaudy rug at Wren, tries it on for size. “It suits you,” he decides, and Wren chokes out a sound that’s obviously a sob but that he had tried hard enough to hide that Robin lets it go. “All the names in the world, though,” he says. “You still picked a bird.”
He sniffles again. “We still had to match.”
Robin feels that really low in his chest, a lot warmer than he would’ve expected. “I’ve always wanted a brother,” he says.
When he finally comes home for good, none of the colours are as bright as he remembers them being.
Wren had moved out while he’d been away, and the house is a lot bigger than he remembers it being. It’s too quiet. He can hear too much when it’s quiet.
Wren comes to stay for a few nights, to welcome Robin home, and he brings his girlfriend with him, introduces her. Julie. She’d probably be very beautiful if Robin’s type were outrageously scary people.
All tattoos, everywhere, and piercings studded with diamonds that catch the light whenever she moves. Her hair is like ink and all her tattoos are thick, black, and she looks a lot like Wren’s opposite in a way that’s endearing for a long time. He likes Julie in the beginning; she’s cordial to him.
She’s less cordial over time, slowly but surely. Then comes a time she’s rude, that she’ll snatch Wren’s phone out of his hands to tell Robin to get fucked on the other end. Once, Wren shows up in the middle of the night to post his bail and take him home. He spends that night, then the next few on their couch, and Julie doesn’t say a word to him once. Doesn’t even look at him.
It comes to a head at his mom’s house. He’s there because Wren is supposed to be there, but he never even gets to see him; he only sees his bitch girlfriend, sneering down the doorstep at him.
“I don’t think you like me very much,” he accuses.
“I don’t,” she says.
“Oh.” He already lnew she didn’t, so he doesn’t know why he’s surprised. That she’s so fuckin’ blunt about it, maybe. “Fuck you, too.”
“You’re a loser,” she tells him, and folds her arms. Robin’s quite a bit bigger than she is, but it doesn’t feel like it then. She’s an imposing little thing. “What’s there to like?”
“Okay,” he says tightly, “you suck, and —“
“You’re a cancer,” she says, “and I want you to leave Wren alone.”
That one hits Robin like a punch in the chest. He almost takes a step back, then pivots, because who the fuck does she think she is? Why should Robin cower? “Fuck you,” he says again. She just raises her eyebrows, smirks, and it’s so smug that it actually makes Robin hot all over. “Fuck you. He’s my brother.”
“Yeah?” She asks, and he doesn’t like her fuckin’ tone. “Because, from where I’m standing, it really seems like that didn’t matter to you all that much until Wren started making a lot of money.”
It makes all the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “You have no idea —“
“Did he tell you we had to move?” She asks.
He’s still fuming and it crackles in his ears. “What?”
“Do you remember his apartment?” Julie says. “How excited he was? How much he loved it? But we had to move,” she tells him, “because we couldn’t keep up with it anymore, because such a substantial chunk of your brother’s income goes to funding his junkie brother’s crack habit.”
He tenses his jaw so tightly his teeth click. “You’re a bitch.”
“I’m not kidding,” she says, “and I’m telling you as gently as I think you deserve. You’re ruining his life. Leave him alone.”
Robin tries.
Really, he tries. He does what’s best for everyone and clears out his mother’s purse before making a home for himself in the gutter. He sleeps in the street and sits in the sun during the day, usually high. High if he can help it, anyway.
He sustains it for as long as it takes Wren to find him. He isn’t quite sure how long that is. He thinks he might have lost a lot of time.
Wren looks different. This Wren still has his Wren’s hair, his Wren’s abnormally large eyes. He’s still a pretty boy, but he’s a pretty boy, right? His jaw is a bit more defined. He’s got more angles, sharper angles, less softness and curve. He wouldn’t look out of place in an eighties hair band. How long has Robin been gone? How long has he been sleeping?
“You look good,” he says.
“You look like shit,” Wren tells him blandly.
“Yeah,” Robin agrees, scratching his neck. He accidentally opens a sore he didn’t know was there and scratches a little harder. “Where’s Julie?”
“Left me,” Wren answers.
“Oh,” Robin says, and stops scratching. “Why?”
He raises his eyebrows. “Why do you think?”
He flinches. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you?”
“Well, y’know,” he says, scratching his forearm, “there’s other fish in the sea.”
Wren’s face falls. Sighing, he looks away, half hidden by his hair. Robin has half a mind to wonder if that’s why he hasn’t cut it. “I can’t do this shit with you anymore,” he says.
“What shit?” Robin says.
“All of this,” he says, but he turns back to reach out towards Robin and forcefully pry his hands away from the sides of his face. “And stop fuckin’ pickin’ your face.”
Contrarily, Robin’s skin doesn’t stop itching so he doesn’t stop scratching.
Wren doesn’t stop taking care of him, either.
For a while, Robin has a really good thing going, honestly, and there’s something comforting about being at home again with his mom and his brother. He doesn’t notice, for a long time, how much it eats away at Wren, because it eats away at him so slowly. He gets quieter.
Five months after Wren decides he’s done taking care of him — and takes care of him, still — Robin clears all of the big bills out of his wallet before he wanders out onto the farm to grovel and ask to borrow a measly fifty bucks. He never quite makes it that far.
The cows are out, so it isn’t hard to track Wren down, but Robin never quite makes it over to him. He’s sitting in the grass, back against a fence post. Daisy has her head in his lap, and he’s got a hand between her ears, but it’s still. He’s staring off into nothing. It looks like he might be crying.
And that makes Robin so dreadfully uncomfortable he turns right back around and goes inside. Because that’s probably a little bit his fault, right?
He doesn’t leave then, but he notices it more. Wren stares off into space a lot. Cries when he doesn’t think anybody else is around. Never mentions to Robin all the money that vanished from his wallet.
Robin leaves a week later.
It takes Wren three months, this time, to track him down.
Robin’s been sleeping on the floor of an abandoned apartment building, and it’s kind of surreal, waking up to Wren, cross legged on the floor with him. It’s a relief to see him. “Can I b-borrow a c-couple bucks?”
The way Wren looks at him makes him miserable. He tells Wren it’s their mother, it’s the way mom looks at him, and it is, to a degree. His mother still looks at him like she’s proud of him, her son the soldier, her son the patriot, but the way Wren looks at him is worse. Wren’s disappointed in him, and that could almost make him throw up.
He’s trying to get Robin to come home, to get clean, and Robin’s trying to get some money out of him. He’s having a hard time focusing, he’s shivering, but not with cold, with a sort of fever that makes his skin crawl too tightly over his restless bones. When the door explodes open, Robin registers it a second after it’s already happened. The soldiers he doesn’t even see until they’ve already swarmed the room, covered every exit, pulled Robin to his knees by his arms and his hair. They knock his blanket loose, and he shivers until one of them grabs Wren by his braided hair, wrenches his head back, points his gun.
Not everything comes into focus, but it tries. This is really happening and this is really bad.
Their captain is a big guy that looks more like the Hollywood movie version of a soldier than a soldier. He has an arrogance to him that puts Robin on edge, that he’s only ever seen in very dangerous, very powerful men. The way he looks at Wren makes Robin sick.
When he knocks Wren unconscious, it’s with a wet cloth and a gloved hand over his mouth.
Robin begs. He hasn’t been above begging for a long time. The way the captain is looking at Wren — he’s seen what happens to people who get looked at like that.
And this is Robin’s fault.
This is all his fault.
It makes him think of Julie. He can’t remember the last time he saw her, or even the last time he really thought about her, but he thinks of her now. You’re ruining his life, she’d told him once.
She was right.
For a long time, he’d been ruining. Now, it’s in ruins at his feet. And it’s all Robin’s fault.
They try to make him watch, but he struggles and vomits himself into unconsciousness.
They take him to a weird, grey place tens of minutes below ground. They give him weird, grey clothes and they throw him into a weird, grey prison.
Wren isn’t there.
He meets Hal, and he meets June, and he begs them, too. They have to know something, anything. Maybe they heard one of the soldiers say something, even in passing.
They look at him like he’s crazy. They don’t even believe him.
Robin spends his first week in his weird, grey prison completely hysterical. Then a couple of men, dressed almost liked orderlies but masked, all in black, come to haul him away, kicking and screaming. They drag him through this weird, grey hellscape to a surgical room from a nightmare, entirely black. They strap him down to a black surgical table. The surgeons that hover around him wear black masks and caps and gloves.
One of them takes a long, black needle. He holds it up, into Robin’s field of vision, before he turns the point into the inner corner of his eye. “This will probably hurt,” he explains, “but you won’t think to complain.”
“What the fuck?” Robin shouts. He thrashes, but he’s restrained to that table so tightly he can’t turn his face away, not even an inch. “What the fuck! Get the fuck away from me!”
“This will make your development easier,” another says. He speaks with the slow, flat voice of an old movie mad scientist and Robin’s heart physically aches in his chest. Never, not once in his life, has he been so scared it’s made his heart ache. “It’s in your best interest.”
“Get the fuck away from me!” Robin screams.
But he’s still. He tries to thrash, to turn away, and he can’t. He can only watch that needle close in on his eye, and scream as it pierces it.
He screams until he can’t.
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alarrylarrie ¡ 25 days ago
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I am one of those people that don't have anyone to talk to about Liam's death. The friends that I've found through the fandom either don't want to talk about it or have talked about it with someone else and are "in a good place" with it now. I intellectually know I'm not alone but I still feel very isolated in my grief.
Well my love you have come to the right place. I’m in the opposite of a good place with it. My denial has super strength, I still cry about once a day (a record for me, if you know me) and my heart just aches over what we all, but most especially his family and our boys, have lost.
It feels odd to say I’m “happy” to talk about it. But what I am more than willing to do is talk about it with you. You’re not alone, I’m right here. And there are many many others who feel the same way too. Please feel free to send me asks or a message, or reply to this post, or whatever you need to do in order to feel part of this community, okay?
I love you very much.
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meyhew ¡ 24 days ago
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(Tw as i'm talking about the book)
Yeah I made the mistake of reading some pages of the book after he passed and while I am in no way trying to dictate how Maya should feel, I did even feel more upset because he just seemed so.. broken, like in the infamous "axe chase scene" its depicted as him having a full-blown manic attack it doesn't read as him chasing her out of pure rage to kill, he literally lays in a bed of glass and passes out from the aftermath, he clearly was not mentally well
I know we can't rewind time, but when the book released, Maya said it was fiction based on real events so no one could pin specific scenes on Liam; the book ends with her admitting that he loved her but that he had demons he was facing, I think that's why there wasn't so much talk when it initially released because it read as "hurt people hurt people". I don't know why she decided to come out now and I have no intention to judge her on it, maybe it was because of the hate that he was receiving from Nialls concert that she saw it as it as good opportunity bring it up (this all initially started when she said it was Zayn who had attacked Liam). I don't know, I really don't know, and I wish things had played out differently
(Also on a side note I think it's interesting how everyone is saying that we should listen to Maya, however she has come out to say Liam DID NOT groom her when she was 15 and that him being in 1D had no power imbalance on their relationship and yet people seem to be completely ignoring that)
liam never groomed her i don’t know where the hell that’s coming from. yes their age gap when they started dating was kind of weird but he Did Not Groom Her. people see new words and just start using them without understanding their very specific definitions. it drives me nuts
also regarding the book—i’m going to sound very very callous when i say this but: i don’t care what’s in it. maya said it’s inspired by her real life, which is fine. people do that all the time. but that also means that i can’t take what’s in the book as fact. because she has exaggerated reality. it would be different if she had sought legal action to address everything but she didn’t. and yeah, i get it, doing all that is complicated blah blah but if it’s bad enough that you need to tell the whole fucking world about it and sensationalize it, then you can find lawyers who would make your abuser’s life a living hell. a restraining order would’ve been a good start but anyway. he’s dead now so it really doesn’t matter
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greyspirehollow ¡ 2 months ago
Text
MURDER AT THE HOSPITAL
Chapter 4
Warnings : detailed cadaver description ; panic attack / hallucinations ; character in an overwhelming scenario ; stressful scenario ; tw worms ; tw bugs ; I may have not listed it all, viewer discretion is advised
I would rate this chapter and the overall fic 16 +
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Eltowen forest was a good three hour drive from Vesuvia. Liam sat in the passenger seat of Vulgora’s car, silently watching as the city became fields, then the fields became hills, and hills became the forest. He watched the sky as it slowly changed from the bright blue of Vesuvia to a clear soothing gray, and as small droplets tapped against the windshield, growing in size and number as they progressed towards their destination. Vulgora turned on the windshield wipers when they passed the small village of Oretonhill. They hadn’t exchanged a word during the whole drive. It was… Relaxing, strangely enough. Although Liam could tell Vulgora wasn’t silent out of serenity, and more because of something on their mind. He wanted to ask what it was, just for the sake of having something mundane to talk about, but he remembered their small talk at the Rowdy Raven, and how that hadn’t given him any answers. They didn’t even notice his gaze on them, their eyes hard and focused on the road. And so the scientist took a while to really look at them – since it was probably his only chance to do so without them giving him shit about it –. He blinked a few times as he noticed that they had many scars on their arms. Cuts, burns… They blended with their pale skin so much he’d never noticed them before. He hadn’t even noticed the subtle one on their cheek… He wondered what kind of person they were before joining the police forces of Vesuvia. He’d heard from workplace gossip that they were in the army before, but had been cast out for their behavior. He thought about it : wasn’t that… A good thing? Wouldn’t they be a very fearsome soldier in that case? They knew his questions would go unanswered and so stopped silently asking, going back to his quiet observation. Their red hair were tied in a low ponytail, but a few wild strands fell around their face. They were… Pretty, actually. Their cheeks were slightly round and looked somewhat soft ; which would be ideal for kisses. He blinked a few times at his own thoughts and caught himself before he let the train run wild. Instead he looked back out the window.
Vulgora turned at a small dirt path and parked the police car somewhere somewhat a little out of sight, and turned off the engine. Liam took a deep breath before exiting the car to grab the bag in the trunk in which his gear was. Vulgora exited the car with a heavy sigh, checking if they had everything they needed on them, weapon and gun included. They grabbed their vest and put it on ; it was quite fresh around here. They grabbed a flashlight as well, just in case it got darker. Liam slung his bag of equipment over his shoulder and followed them into the forest. Sadly, the lab results couldn’t give much precision about where exactly in the forest the body had been… And Eltowen forest wasn’t the smallest area to cover. Nonetheless, they walked forward, their steps making squishing sounds against the humid, fallen leaves-covered dirt. Liam looked around : the trees were sparse for now, but he knew the deeper they trod, the denser they would get. He couldn’t help a slight rush of anxiety at the idea of going further into the forest with only Vulgora to defend him. He had no doubt about their intimidation and fighting skills, but the fact they were just a pair of people… That’s what really made him anxious. But he knew the whole crew would come along later on, when they’d found the crime scene itself. And so he continued to walk. He didn’t distance himself too much from them, the surroundings being almost stifling in both their size and repetitiveness. They stranded further away from the path, into areas where the vegetation was ever so slightly denser. Liam swallowed nervously and tried to focus on the task at hand ; this was a significant step in the investigation, whether he liked it or not.
He didn’t know for how long they walked, but so far they’d been quite unsuccessful. In that moment, Liam wished that Vulgora would ramble and complain, because their silence was somehow more unnerving than this whole case. He was pretty sure the damp ground made some water soak through his shoes, and the raindrops were starting to make him feel cold ; he should’ve brought a vest as well… He let out a shuddering breath as they came across a boulder partially covered in moss. Vulgora shot him a glance but they didn’t say anything, their attention focusing on the rock instead. They pulled out their flashlight – and even if it was still daytime, details would be easier to notice this way – and directed the stream of light on the stone. It looked normal so far, with only moss and lichen being the noticeable things on it. They both circled the boulder, and Vulgora nudged a suspicious pile of dead leaves with their foot. It seemed there was something under there. “Wait-” Liam said, putting his bag of supplies aside and slipping on gloves to rummage through the pile. He nudged the leaves aside, and let out a little “ah-” when he brought up a decomposed hand from under it. Vulgora looked aside with a frown and a groan : “Gods damn it I almost touched it!” they mumbled under their breath.
Liam picked up the piece of cadaver, inspecting it. His eyes roamed over the rotten, dark and brown-ish, humid flesh, his eyes lingering on the very little spots of fungi that had started to develop. He looked closely and the dark bones just underneath as well. “It looks like it could be a piece of our victim’s carcass…” He stated. Vulgora groaned and rolled their eyes.
“Why do you call it a ‘carcass’?? Cadaver, corpse, carcass- can’t you just say ‘body’ like everyone else?!”
Liam held back a chuckled. There was the Vulgora he knew. He went on : “Now the question is… What is it doing here?” He paused. “I mean… It’s so carelessly hidden under a pile of leaves, next to a very obvious boulder ; besides, the rest of the body was transported to the hospital morgue, so why would the killer leave a morsel behind ?… That either has been put there on purpose or they simply didn’t care.”
Liam bit down on his lip as Vulgora hummed in thought, their brows subtly furrowed. “Ya think it’s on purpose? I mean it does look careless…”
They looked down around the pile of leaves, noticing slight traces on the floor “look-” they pointed at it with the flashlight, drawing Liam’s attention to it. The scientist nodded.
“Yes- those traces look like someone pushing something on the floor with their foot.” Liam said, contemplating the evidence. He then grabbed his camera from his bag, but paused, since he was still holding the decayed hand. He grabbed a large plastic specimen bag instead, put the hand in it, catching a finger that had fallen on the floor to put it in with the rest, sealed it, and put the specimen on the boulder – Vulgora scrunched their nose at that –. He paused again. “… Maybe I should’ve taken a picture of it before… Ah, too bad-” and focused on the traces in the dirt. He took a few pictures before resuming his train of thoughts. “So. Why could it be there? I mean could it be that the killer wanted us to find it as well?”
Vulgora hummed, in slight disagreement. “I mean… Why not take it to the hospital as well? Why leave the hand here?”
Liam tilted his head and thought. “… Maybe he got lazy with that bit of the body…” his eyes widened slightly as he got an idea “Oh wait- see how the finger fell off when I picked up the hand?”
Vulgora hissed in disgust. “Yeeaaah…?”
Liam smiled – why did he smile – “Maybe the hand just fell off the body while the killer transported it ! You know, in the euphoria of the moment, under the adrenaline rush of transporting it to the hospital the- the hand just fell and the killer didn’t bother picking it up !”
Vulgora felt themselves cringe slightly – why the hell did he sound so enthusiastic about it ?? – they took a deep breath before replying.
“I don’t know, I never killed anyone Liam.”
The scientist let out a sheepish chuckle.
“Ah- well, uhm… Just imagine for a moment-”
Vulgora cut him off :
“I am NOT going to imagine myself as a killer !”
Liam shook his head and continued :
“No no no, I’m not asking you to do that- just… Imagine. You have a surprise planned for someone. Yeah? You are so excited as you get everything ready, you just want them to see it and can’t wait a second longer. Yes? Well. In the rush, you… I don’t know, knock a glass of water off the table with your elbow- and you just think to yourself ‘I’ll just fix it when I’m done with the surprise and I come back’.”
Vulgora frowned, not liking how they actually understood the man’s analogy.
“So… You’re saying the killer was so excited to… Do whatever he’d planned to do that he uh… Didn’t bother picking up the hand that fell off?”
Liam nodded excitedly.
“Yes ! That’s what I mean- You know, this actually tells us a little more about them ; an experienced killer wouldn’t dare make that mistake unless it’s on purpose – so maybe, just maybe, our perpetrator has killed before, but this is actually the first time they’ve… Uhm- how do I say it- Puts it out, like makes it known, y’know? Just like uh- I don’t know, you’ve been learning to do a thing, like play and instrument, and you decide for the first time to play in front of a crowd-”
Vulgora sighed. They hated how he made sense.
“… I should never have given Valdemar your number… Alright ! Ok, I get it, our guy was so happy to turn the morgue into an exhibition that he left the hand here and didn’t pick it back up.”
Liam’s head shot up to look at Vulgora, his eyes slightly wide and focused, as if something had just clicked in his head.
“… Exhibition, you said?” Vulgora raised an eyebrow.
“uh… Yeah, yeah I did.”
Liam took out a small notebook and began writing down.
“What if this had a link to like a form of art?”
Vulgora’s head leaned back as they groaned, exasperated
“uuugh- no ! No time for that !! we still gotta find just where the body was buried ! Keep your wacky ass theories for Valdemar !”
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Liam apologized and packed up his things and the evidence as he followed Vulgora further into the forest again. The sounds of the rain getting heavier filled his ears, accompanied by the soft creaking of the branches far above. Despite his somewhat exciting little discovery, the feeling of unease was quick to creep back in, as he looked around the increasingly vast forest. Vulgora was still there, thank the gods, and he knew they’d find the way back if necessary. Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, Vulgora’s steps quickened : “I see something !” they said, and Liam quickly followed.
They reached a small area with clearer space between the trees, the floor still covered in dead, orange leaves. The soil was just as humid, and their footsteps still made those squishing sounds. Not too far away from the middle was a hole in the ground. The police officer and the scientist carefully approached it : it was an imperfect rectangular in shape, man made, and about six feet deep. The bottom had been slightly mushed by the frequent rain, leaving small puddles of water to occupy the empty space. Liam gulped. The wet dark dirt made this hole look much deeper than it probably was… He felt slightly uneasy. He could see a few worms wriggle around in the spongy dirt at the bottom of the pit, his mind inevitably going back to the corpse they’d all found at the morgue…
“… If that ain’t a grave, I don’t know what is…” Vulgora mumbled, their brows furrowed. “You think that’s where our guy was buried ?”
Liam nodded, his eyes still fixated on the pit.
“Most definitely…”
The cop sighed, before giving Liam the flashlight and turning around, walking back.
“You stay here, I’ll go back to the car and get the tape…”
Liam felt his heart sink to his stomach. He whipped around, anxiously watching them walk away.
“Wh-what ? Vulgora, you can’t leave me here, I don’t-!!”
“I’ll be quick !” The officer replied, walking further away. Gods, they walked so fast…
Liam felt the urge to rush after them, but he found himself frozen in place. It’s as if his very bones were trying to tug at his muscles, urging them, pleading them to move and catch up to the red-haired officer who was only getting farther away.
He felt his breath quicken, his eyes fixated on Vulgora until they disappeared. Their sudden absence felt absolutely deafening, as it was slowly replaced by the sound of the rain ; Liam was almost hyper-aware of the cold drops of water falling onto his head and shoulders, of the way his heart thumped against his ribs. He looked around, seeing nothing but the trees, the orange leaves on the floor, the dark soil and the rain. His mind raced ; anything could happen. What if the murderer was near? What if anyone was near? He was no fighter, he wasn’t even sure he could defend himself. Only the forest’s silence answered his silent pleas for reassurance as his hand tightly clutched the flashlight. He turned back to look at the grave again, pointing the stream of light to the bottom. The water coated dirt glistened under the light, the slender, slick and pinkish bodies of worms wriggled around the dirt’s humid surface, and the cold raindrops rhythmically falling onto his neck were this close from driving him mad.
“I wa s h ere.”
Liam’s heart lurched in his throat as he whipped around with a startled gasp at the sudden slurred words spoken behind him. Each of his vertebrae tingled uncomfortably as he was overcome with an overwhelming sense of dread. He clutched the flashlight like a lifeline as his hands shook, his eyes landing on the source of the noise. It was standing there, a little further ahead into the small clearing, its dark figure the same color as the humid dirt below its feet. Each of its bones looked like it barely held itself together, as if a gush of strong wind could knock it over. A few sparse maggots writhed on its surface, amidst the specks of humid dirt clinging to its skeleton. Its cranium and overall frame was slightly tilted, just slightly, not enough to make it loose its balance, but enough to be deeply uncomfortable. Liam’s heart hammered wildly in his chest as he stared at the corpse’s lifeless, pitch black orbits, his limbs shaking. He was tempted to take a few steps backwards, but the hole was still behind him – he was going to fall, wasn’t he? –. The concept of reality briefly lost all meaning as he stared at Rick’s standing corpse, his mind consumed and overwhelmed by fear, even as one rational thought rang in his mind : “where are my meds?” That thing felt much closer to him than it probably was. He could almost feel tears welling up in his eyes as he saw the cadaver’s jaw move, slowly, almost malfunctioning with how it successively tilted from side as it moved up and down :
“S p ec ia l n ot I wa s.”
Liam’s lower lip quivered as he breathlessly mumbled :
“what are you talking about…?”
The carcass did not answer just yet. Its empty orbits fixed Liam, who was still paralyzed by fear. It did not move. Not even as a bug crawled out and roamed briefly around its cranium.
“D e a d he wa n t s.”
Liam couldn’t even speak anymore. He only swallowed thickly, his mouth opening and closing, without any sound coming out of it.
That’s when he heard his name being called – well, he didn’t exactly hear it, but knew he was being called – and whipped around once more, sucking in a sharp breath. He yelped in shock as he almost fell in the grave beside him, quickly scurrying away from it as he got the use of his legs back. He saw Vulgora approach with the yellow tape and a puzzled look on their face, and he had to resist the urge to jump at them in relief. He took a deep, shaky breath, and shook his head, trying to calm down. The officer walked up to him, confused :
“You good? You look like you seen a ghost or something.”
Liam swallowed as he managed to catch his breath, looking at the rest of the clearing from the corner of his eye – that thing was gone –.
“I’m fine. I just… I didn’t like you leaving me alone like that”
Vulgora huffed, in slight disbelief.
“Please, you’re a grown ass man ! I can leave you five minutes alone in a forest !”
Their annoyed demeanor faltered slightly when they caught a spark in Liam’s eyes : a genuinely petrified spark. They rolled their eyes and patted his shoulder with a bit of exaggeration, their tone nonchalant.
“There there, don’t cry, I’m back, see? No need to shiver your timbers, gods…”
After calming down, Liam helped Vulgora wrap the yellow tape around the area where they’d both found the hand and the corpse, which will be investigated further tomorrow. They both walked back towards the car, and took the road again towards Vesuvia. Vulgora didn’t ask any questions when they saw Liam swallow down a few pills from an orange bottle that had probably fell from his bag into the car.
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Julian sat in front of his microscope as usual. He felt a little more relaxed than the previous days, his mind having gotten busy with work again. He’d been itching to call Liam, but held back, not wanting to look pushy or weird. As he made the lens focus on the red and white blood cells, a familiar tingle of unease crept up in his neck, disturbing the slight moment of peace. He sighed as he looked away from the microscope, turning his chair to reluctantly face the familiar figure standing in the doorway. The corridor’s lights weren’t on – it was the evening –, making them look even more scary than they already were.
“… Valdemar.” He greeted warily.
“Devorak.” They answered, their voice carefully neutral.
After a beat of silence they stepped in the lab, looking around seemingly mindlessly, but Julian knew they were here for a reason. He sat straighter in his chair, and despite his best efforts to look somewhat intimidating, there was no denying he was terrified of them.
“… Your friend, from the scientific police…” they started, inquisitive. Julian tensed up. Why the hell were they interested in anything regarding Liam? They continued : “Have you gotten to talk to him at all, recently?”
Julian swallowed. He had to tread carefully with them… “No, not really…”
Valdemar hummed, their gaze lingering on some blood-filled test tubes. “I was just wondering what kind of man he was…” Their head turned to look at Julian, making him tense up even more. “Am I not allowed to?”
The doctor shook his head. “N-no, I mean… You’re not forbidden from being curious, it’s just.. You know what I’m talking about.” He replied, shooting them an almost accusatory glance.
They only replied by an amused chuckle : “Whatever do you mean?”
Julian’s teeth gritted, the feelings of fear and annoyance battling in his heart and mind. They continued looking around for another beat of silence before they went on :
“How do you feel about him?” a pause “In terms of personality, I mean.”
Julian hesitated to answer again. He didn’t want to give them what they wanted, but… At the same time he wouldn’t mind a bit of… Perspective.
“He’s… Special. Not in a bad way, I mean- he seems fun to be around… He likes his job, and…” he remembered something “… Vulgora was quite reluctant about the idea of you two meeting.”
Valdemar’s head tilted, interested “Were they now? That is most surprising.” They regarded Julian for a little longer ; the doctor felt as if they could just tear him apart with their gaze alone. He swallowed nervously and cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. Valdemar spoke again :
“… It would be nice if we could meet over a cup of coffee. I do dislike having a first impression of someone through…” their nose briefly scrunched “… text.”
They turned around and were about to leave, when Julian’s eyes widened as he realized something. He hastily spoke up : “W-wait ! You have his number ??”
Valdemar didn’t answer, and simply shot one last glance in Julian’s direction with a knowing smile. Julian felt his heart drop in his stomach.
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Author's note : here is the next chapter ! I know I don't have a regular posting schedule, but the chapters might come out slower because of work I have to do.
Feedback is always greatly appreciated!!
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statementlou ¡ 1 month ago
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Oh god what now?
I watched this HORRIBLE video (all the tws, plus it's the daily mail sorry I didn't even realize that was the op until just now so actually fuck it I'm not linking; it's details of the time leading up to Liam's death and a person being gross and insensitive about it, will describe below, skip the rest if you don't want to be as upset as I now am)... ...showing an American who was also a guest at the hotel saying that Liam was in the lobby of the hotel multiple times in the time leading up to his death causing a scene and they just kept escorting him back up to his room. They show pictures the guest took of him while all this was happening, including one from something that happened according to this man just before he died, which is that he was in the lobby looking at his laptop and passed out and was convulsing (he took a fucking picture of him passed out) and they woke him up and took him upstairs and put him in the room alone again; that's when they called the police but 5 minutes later he was dead.
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piinfeathers ¡ 10 months ago
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the scars we bare ch2
aaaaand here's part two. if you saw me promise this would be done on tuesday no you didn't <333 thank you to everyone who took the time to read this. it nearly killed me and i loved it
summary: emma swan came to the underworld with one purpose; to rescue the man she loved from hades' grip. and she would do anything, sacrifice everything in order to that happen. when hades offers her a deal, a test of their true love, she takes it. in the end though, the bargain might just take more for them than they have to give. S5B canon divergence
tw: minor moments of gore and torture, also brief mentions of abuse
✨ ch1 | Ao3 link ✨
Hades hadn’t lied about starting from the beginning. The memories they witnessed were, quite literally, some of the earliest moments of their lives. From infancy to childhood, the memories seemed to blur together. At times they watched together, both occupying the same head, witnessing old, long forgotten moments. Other times they were separated, both of them lost in the long, endless tunnel of sound and noise that led to yet another moment in time.
As the memories blurred together, one into the next, it occurred to Killian how similar their childhoods were. Aside from the time and setting, they could almost be confused for the same, miserable adolescence. The same empty bellies, the same too-cold nights, the same edgy fear of the too-large hands that reached out to slap or to hit. And sometimes, in the worst memories, the hands that would reach out and grab. The hands that would pet and coax, almost comforting. But even in the minds of the young children they knew not to trust them. So they ran. And when they couldn’t run, they fought. They bit and screamed and clawed until the large hands learned not to touch so easily.
Through it all, one key difference made itself apparent. The loneliness. Killian had felt small as a child, had felt fear and isolation, but never truly lonely, not when he had Liam. Liam who fought for him, who protected him, who held him through the worst of it. Emma had no one. She floated through her hopeless childhood completely and totally alone. 
At times people would drift in, foster parents who promised to love her, friends who tried to get closer. But in the end, they left. They always left.
Memories of Ingrid and Lily seemed to blur together. The bright hopeful spark that this person, this bond, would be different. That they would choose her and mean it. And when their betrayals hit her, blindsided her defenses, it hardened her. She built walls around her heart so high no one would ever scale them again. Killian ached for her. 
Through the bond he felt her, felt her presence, and tried to reach for her. He felt her hesitation, and imagined himself wrapping his arms around her. The feeling of her stilled, then softened, curling into him.
He’d spent nearly three centuries alone like that. It ate at a person. He couldn’t imagine a life that had known only that aching, hollow loneliness from the very beginning. 
Eventually the memories slowed. They became mundane and repetitive. It felt as if they were watching days pass just for the sake of wasting time. Hades was toying with them, drawing out the memory spell to keep them there longer. Killian pushed against it. 
That’s enough, he thought loudly inside his head. Do you hear me hades? I said that’s enough.
The memories broke apart, dropping them back into the middlemist field. Killian staggered, glaring at the god lounging in the chair. He had a drink now, a bright blue cocktail with a miniature umbrella sticking out from it. He toasted them with it and grinned.
“Enjoying the show?”
“You’ve made your point,” Killian snapped. “We don't need to drag this out.”
Hades' eyes grew sharp, focusing on something behind Killian. “Oh I don't know about that,” he said quietly.
Killian turned and stopped. Emma swayed behind him, her eyes unfocused, her face white. He rushed to her, his hand moving to her face, his hooked arm snaking around her when she faltered and nearly fell. 
“Emma! Emma, look at me.” 
Refusing to take his eyes off her, he snarled back at Hades. “What the hell did you do to her?”
“Just following the rules of our deal. Isn’t that right Emma?” 
Emma groaned, trying to push herself free from Killian's hold, but his arms didn’t move. 
“Killian, it’s ok,” she said with a croak in her voice. “I just need a minute.”
“What is he talking about? What does he mean ‘the rules of your deal?’”
Emma took a long shuddering breath and pulled herself upright, standing taller. Some colour returned to her cheeks and Killian cautiously let his grip on her relax. 
“He told me that in order for him to trust me, to make sure that I would see this through and mean it, I'd have to put some of my magic into it.”
Killian felt dawning horror bleed from his chest and into his lungs. 
“What does that mean?” he asked quietly.
She looked at him. “The memory spell he's using, it’s mine. I’m the one who cast it.”
There was a ringing in Killian’s ears, a shrill, staticky whine that made the world fade away for a moment. Her magic. They were standing inside her spell. He tried to think of how much power a spell of this size would take to keep going, and couldn’t conceive of it. Every moment that passed, ever second they stayed there, she was expending magic at an alarming rate. He could see it now, from the way her hands shook to how her skin looked thin enough to see through. It was devouring her. The magic was drinking her dry, hungry and unstoppable. 
Hades let out a gleeful giggle and clapped his hands. “And there it is! I was wondering when you’d tell him.” 
Killian heard the god of death move, and turned to watch him as he strutted closer. “A bit different when you’re not the dark one hmm? You’ll notice the magic hits just a liiiittle bit harder using light magic instead of all that infinite dark one mojo.”
“Go to hell,” Emma muttered, glancing back at Killian. “I'm ok. I swear I'm ok.”
“Were you ever going to tell me?” he asked, not quite able to keep the betrayal from his voice.
She looked at him for a long, heartbreaking moment. Something tragic flashed in her gaze, there and gone in seconds. “Would you have agreed if you knew?”
“No,” he said reflexively. The truth. He wouldn’t have. “But that was my choice to make Emma.”
She nodded “I know.” 
"Can you end it? Call off the magic?"
Her head shook. "Not while I'm under the sleeping curse. As long as I'm asleep the magic keeps going until this is over."
Her words struck him in the chest, robbing the air from his lungs. Of course. This had been Hades' plan all along. To force her to burn herself out. The cruelty of reliving memories was just a bonus.
“Why?” he asked, “just tell me why.”
She frowned, looking up at him. “I wouldn't leave you here. I can't.” 
She was going to kill herself for him. He knew it even before she answered. She’d die down here and he didn’t know how to stop her. 
“You have to go back Emma. You need to figure out a way to call off this spell and you have to go home.”
“I can do this. Killian please-” her voice broke and Killian felt his resolve crumble. “Do you trust me?” she asked after a moment
He smiled even as his heart split in half. “With my life.”
Her answering smile could have lit the entire night sky. “Ok then. See this through with me. We can do this. Together.” 
He wanted to say no. He needed to make her see. Did she even know? Couldn't she feel how much this spell was taking from her? But when she looked at him, when her chin raised and a light started to ignite behind her steady gaze, he knew he couldn’t stop her. Not yet, not now. But soon. Somehow, he would figure out a way to save her from herself.
As if caught in her current, he nodded at her mutely, and another door sprang into being beside them, swinging open and inviting them in. She took his hand again.
“It’ll be ok,” she said, a promise he knew she couldn’t keep. 
When she stepped through he followed her, powerless to do anything but let himself fall down after her.
***
Emma was tired. And pissed. And sore. And so filled with guilt it nearly choked the life out of her. She’d lied to him. Again. He probably wouldn’t forgive her this time. 
She’d live with it. Somehow, even if he walked away from her after this, if she managed to save him? It would be worth it.
They were falling again, she was holding his hand as the magic flowed around them. What he said earlier stuck with her. Hades was playing them. He wanted to drain her and let her die inside the sleeping curse. She realized that much. She needed to figure out a way to move this along. They needed a way out, and fast.
She tried to think, tried to feel for the edges of the magic. It was her spell damn it. If anyone knew a way out it would be her. But how-
She was thrown, full force into another memory before she had a chance to finish her thought.
In this one, Killian was back on the Jolly, in the captain’s quarters. A man with dark blonde curls stood behind the desk, his grin infectious. Emma felt the rush of love and relief at the sight of the man’s face. Liam. This must be Liam. She should’ve known from the smile. It was almost a twin to Killian’s.
“What now brother?” Killian asked.
“We reveal our king’s cowardice,” Liam announced, marching around the desk, grabbing his jacket.
Emma felt Killian's trust, his complete and total belief in his brother’s ability, and her heart hurt horribly. 
They kept talking, making plans and speaking about the future. Overhead someone called to brace for landing and the ship shook beneath their feet. They grinned at each other and Killian moved to the window, glancing out at the waves, a sense of new found purpose lighting inside him. They were going to expose the king, become heroes. No one else had to die because of his treachery.
“What do you say Liam? Want some company when you report to the admiralty?” Killian grinned as he turned to Liam. Liam who was doubled over in pain. Liam whose face was turning ashen and grey. 
Killian ran to him, grabbing for his brother, trying to pull him up. “No! Liam! Liam please!” he was begging, pleading to anyone who would listen for help
In his arms Liam gurgled, thin veins of inky black creeping across his face like curling spider limbs. Emma held on as Killian’s panic and grief crashed into her all at once, watching the life drain from his brother’s face. Killian’s voice sounded so tragically young when he begged for help, it nearly pulled her under. 
How could one person bear it? she thought again.��All this loss. How did he keep moving forward, carrying it all?
She wondered how much more there would be. Who else had he lost? What else had he sacrificed and bartered away? How much more would Hades force her to witness?
None of this was new to her. None of these memories revealed “the man Killian Jones really was.” She already knew damn well who he was, and her heart broke for him. For who he had been and who he was now.
She was done. This was over. This pointless test was ending. Now.
She flared out her power in her mind. She could feel the borders of the spell that trapped them, felt the solid walls of it. She imagined herself reaching out both hands and pushed. Hard.
She felt the bars of her cage start to give and pushed again, harder this time, imagining herself balling her hands into fists and slamming them against the wall again and again. Cracks started to form. The memory she was in faded away, Liam's body and Killian's mind floating back into the past where they belonged. Here, in the present, Emma Swan wrapped herself in her power like armour and pictured the face of the man she loved. 
And punched her fist straight through the spell, shattering it.
***
Killian let the memory pull him where it wanted. He hoped it would be over quickly. He still needed to figure out a way to save Emma from herself. The answer, of course, came to him almost instantly. There was one way to show Emma the man he was. The man he hid from her. He had to show her the truth of his past. She would be horrified, she would leave and it would break whatever was left of the heart she had put back together. But she would be safe. She would go back to her life and she would love again. She would move on.
The thought of it. Of Emma Swan moving on without him, of her loving someone new almost destroyed him. But he knew deep in his bones that he would tear himself apart for her happiness. He had done it before and would do it again.
The memory formed around him as his decision was made. He glanced around. Emma stood alone in a dark back alley. Nervous excitement, and youthful joy crowded her mind. She was happy, so dizzyingly happy it made her head spin.
She was looking at a gold wrist watch, two sizes too big on her wrist and frowned, nerves started to edge their way into her excitement. She reached into her pocket and grabbed her phone. Baelfire- No, Neal’s face, filled her mind. He was late. He was supposed to be there and he was late.
She dialed the phone and held it to her ear, frowning when the automated voice told her the number had been disconnected. The hell? Had he forgotten to pay the damn phone bill again? 
“Damn right there’s an error,” she muttered, starting to dial again.
“Unless he set you up,” a loud voice called from behind her.
She turned and froze at the sight of the gun pointed at her. Icy, numb panic flooded through her, made her heart stop. When the cop told her to put her hands on her head she obeyed robotically, not understanding. Neal? Where was Neal? 
The cop was talking but Emma could barely hear him over the rush in her ears. He was full of shit, she was thinking. He didn’t have anything on her, and she told him as much.
“Possession of stolen goods,” he said, gesturing to the watch with the butt of his gun. “Your boy set you up.”
Emma could only stare. Neal . she thought. Just Neal , over and over. 
“He called in a tip, told us to take a look at the surveillance footage at the train station.” 
The words hit her like a physical blow. He’d betrayed her. She’d loved him, gave him everything she had, and he’d betrayed her. Cold, aching misery filled her head. Killian felt it, letting it wash over him. She was alone again and all he could do was watch.
When the cop turned her, snapped the cuffs of her wrists, a numb fury filled her, clouded her mind and settled deep in her bones until walls made of steel formed around her heart. Never again. She would never let herself believe in love. Love made you stupid. It used you up and softened you until you were helpless. Never again.
Killian let the memories move around him, too tired to fight them. So much hurt filled his head, both his and hers, like old scar tissue, hard and calloused. Had love ever come into her life without strings? Without hurt? The unfairness of it made his blood boil.
When the memory finally stilled, she was in a police station. The officer across from her asked her her age. In a quiet, barely there voice she answered; “Seventeen.”
“Got a kid your age,” the cop said flatly and Emma didn’t know how to respond.
Killian tried to focus on the memory, but everything felt blurry. Time seemed to move too fast and too slow all at once, sliding around him.
“Killian.” 
Inside Emma's mind, he froze. The memory around him came to a grinding halt, nothing moving.
“Killian, we need to go.” 
He turned, no longer in Emma's head, but in his own body, sitting inside her frozen memory. Emma, his Emma, stood in front of him, her hand extended.
“C’mon,” she said, “This way, we need to go before Hades finds us.”
He was on his feet, hand in hers and moving before he could ask any questions. She led him to a door with an exit sign above it and pushed through. Instead of the back street he’d been expecting, Granny’s dinner sat before him.
“Emma what-?"
“Just keep moving,” she snapped, breaking into a run.
They ran together through another door, this one leading them to Mary Margret and David’s loft. He tried to make sense of what he was seeing but Emma was pulling him forward still. They headed through another door into the cabin of the Jolly Roger. Then through another into their bed chambers from Camelot. She led him through door after door, all places he recognized, places they had shared together, until finally they crashed through back into the middlemist field.
It was exactly the same as the field they had started in, only it was night time now. They were dressed as they had been in Camelot, she in her white gown and him in his black coat.
She gasped when they came to a halt, stumbling and nearly falling. He caught her, cradling her head as he brought them both to the grass.
“Emma!” her eyes were closed, her breathing ragged. “Emma, what did you do?”
“Bought-” she took a shaking breath. “Bought us more time.”
She was still for a moment before opening her eyes. “You were right, Hades is toying with us and I'm tired of it.”
She moved to sit up and Killian saw her arms were trembling even as her shoulders straightened and her jaw set with determination.
“I’m done screwing around. We’re going to finish his stupid test, and then we’re going home.”
“Emma,” he dropped his forehead against hers. Cold sweat dampened her skin. “Emma, this has to end. You can’t keep going like this.”
He felt her nod. “Agreed. That’s why we’re only going to important memories, ones that-”
“No more bloody memories!” he bellowed, whipping his head up and gripping her shoulder. “This ends now. Call hades, call whoever. But tell them it’s over before you kill yourself.”
“No.” 
Her one word answer made his teeth grit, fear and anger nearly blinding him. “I won’t sit here and let you die for me Emma.”
She was still for a moment, studying him. “You’ve already died for me three times, Killian. I'm not stopping.”
He reared back as if she’d hit him. “So what? This is payback? Retribution? I die so you have to as well?”
“No!" the colour was back in her face now, her eyes alive and burning. “No this is me doing what I have to to save the man I love. And I will.”
He shook his head, raising to his feet. “No. Emma, no. I'm not worth this. I'm not worth losing your life over.”
She stood, the fine tremor in her limbs gone now, a halo of light magic behind her. “I’m the one who gets to decide that. Killian-” she broke off, then tried again. “Killian, I'm sorry I didn't tell you the whole truth. I should have and I'm sorry. But I am telling you now. I'm seeing this through. Because you’re worth it.”
“Enough!” his shout echoed across the field, shook the grass around their feet. “You want to see what kind of man you’re trying to save? The man you want to die for? Here.”
He thought of it, the worst things he had ever done, every unspeakable act he had ever committed and formed them into one solid, writhing mass in his mind. Inside the heart of the memory spell, the magic grabbed hold of him, greedily drinking in his shame. A door sprang into life between them. 
“Here, walk through here and see.”
She looked at him. One long, horrible silent moment passed as time held its breath. Then, she turned, opened the door and walked through.
***
There was no tunnel of light, no waiting, no falling. The memories started all at once. Killian with a sword in his hand, laughing, blood spraying on his face as he drove the blade through another man. Killian, with his hand wrapped around an insubordinate crew member's throat. The man was begging for mercy but Killian only squeezed tighter, his rage cold and unforgiving. Another man on his knees, pleading with Killian, telling him of the family who needed him, before Killian ran him through.
The memories felt sharp, pointed. They bit into her skin and tore at her, shredding her clothes and ripping her hair. All of it ruthless, unforgiving. At the heart of them, Killian stood with his heart completely black and hardened, a vicious grin on his face. The deadliest pirate of the seas. Revenge and blood and pain all muddied together in a blinding red haze around her.
He wore rings on his fingers, of the men he killed. He remembered all of their faces. In the darkness of his cabin he tortured himself with their memories. Of the feeling of ending their lives. He'd felt nothing while he did it, and yet in the quiet of his own mind he sliced himself open again and again at the sight of the rings. 
A bastard. A miserable, cruel bastard. He loved it. And he hated it. 
Emma sat in the corners of his mind and watched as the centuries moved in a blur. The heart inside Killian's chest turned hard as stone. Slowly, the killings grew less vicious. They became methodical. Practiced. 
Faces blurred past, cursing him, and he welcomed it. He was cursed.
Every part of him grew colder, harder, crueler. He no longer felt any sense of justice from the death around him. He felt nothing, only a bleak, yawning emptiness that he let fester and rot until there was nothing of him left. A living corpse that bayed to the sky for revenge. A man made of decay. 
***
In the field, cradling her body, Killian waited for Emma to awaken. When her eyes slowly fluttered, he braced himself, waiting for the hatred in her eyes, the revulsion. She blinked and stared up at him for a long moment. Then the most horrifically beautiful sight passed through her eyes; forgiveness.
“Killian,” she murmured, her hand reaching up to brush the hair from his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
He found it hard to breathe. A lump had formed in his chest, growing hard and sharp. 
Emma pushed herself up and wrapped her arms around him. “It's ok,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
He pulled away from her and just stared. “No. Emma no-you can’t-”
“Just shut up,” she said, her eyes closing as she rose to her feet. He followed her, his arms ready to catch her. She sounded so tired and it terrified him. 
“Was that it? Was that supposed to prove something to me?” her eyes opened and the green depths were so clear and understanding it completely shattered him. “It was a good try, pretty rough stuff. But Killian? Did you think I didn't know about your past?”
“I-”
“I know who you are. I know who you were then and I know who you are now.”
“Emma please, don’t do this.”
“I love you Killian. I love the man you are right now. And that’s the man I'm going to save.”
Laughter formed in his chest, rough and malformed, it thrust out of his throat in a harsh burst. 
“You can’t Emma, it’s too late, don’t you see that? Please. You need to let me go,” he looked down at the field of flowers beneath their feet then back up at her. In her white gown, lit by moonlight, she seemed to glow. “This is where it should have ended the first time love. Where it was always meant to end. Please just listen to me. You can’t stay here and die for me. I’m telling you now, I’m not worth your salvation. I’m not worth your life.”
She shook her head in short, frustrated jerks. “And I’m telling you, that you’re wrong.” Her hands lifted, framing his face. Hot, angry tears forming in her eyes, shining like burning stars. “I’m not offering you salvation Killian. You already earned that all on your own. I’m offering you a life, a home. With me.”
He smiled, trying to trace every line of her face, trying to memorize the curve of her cheek and the way her eyes lit with emerald flames. He wanted to burn her memory into his mind, how she looked at this exact moment, full of righteous purpose. His Swan.
“I know you love me Emma. And I know you feel you need to save me. But you can’t. Whatever misplaced guilt that’s keeping you here, please just forget about it. It’s alright,” his hand reached up to touch the ends of her hair, running the strands of them through his fingertips. “It will be alright.”
“Is that what you think?” she jerked free of his hold, took a step back. Whatever exhaustion had clouded her expression before was burned away, replaced with something hot and furious. “That I came all the way down here, let myself get cursed, put myself through all this, because I feel guilty?”
“Emma-”
“Well guess what? I do! I do feel guilty. I got you killed in Camelot and then I brought you back and cursed us all. And you know what? I'd do it again. I’d do this a hundred times over and then a hundred more times because when it comes to you Killian Jones? I'm selfish. Because. You. Are. Mine.”
She punctuated each word in short, clipped bursts that hit him like cannon fire to the chest.
“You’re mine,” she repeated, taking a step towards him, invading his space. “And I’m yours. And I'm not leaving you down here. I'm not leaving you with Hades. Because I love you. I love you so much and I'm bringing you home. We. Are going. Home.”
She was swaying, magic seemed to frame her like a halo. He couldn’t look away. “You told me, back in Storybrooke when I was the dark one, that it didn’t matter what I had done, that you still loved me. Well guess what? It's a two way street. Whatever you’ve done Killian? It doesn’t matter. I love you. I love you as the man you are now. The man who did those things and who still changed. They’re a part of you. And I love every single part.”
Her eyes were burning. He stared at them, transfixed. She had always been like golden sunlight to him. Now she was like a supernova, lighting him on fire. 
“We are going to get through this together. And then you’re going to kiss me, break this stupid sleeping curse, and we’re going to go home.” 
She sounded so certain, he didn’t know what to say. His mouth moved to speak, but nothing seemed to come out. What could he even say? That this wouldn’t work? That if he was right then this whole endeavor was doomed? That while they loved each other, it might not be true love?
“What?” she asked, searching his face. Slowly, a dawning look of realization came over her face. “You don’t think it will work. The kiss.”
“It isn’t just that, Emma-” he swallowed around a lump in throat. “Emma I love you, and I know you love me. But true love is the rarest magic there is. What if we’re wrong?”
“We’re not. I know it. I know what we have, I know it’s true love.”
Her confidence crashed over him like a wave. He wanted to drown in it. He wanted her belief, needed it so badly at that moment. But he just couldn’t.
“You still don’t believe me,” she said, studying him. “Ok then. Here. I’ll show you”
He saw her raise her hand, and dread filled him, knowing what she was about to do. Calling another door now would drain what was left of her magic and probably kill her.
“Emma don't! You can’t-”
Her hand flicked once, a surge of power snaking out like a ribbon of smoke, forming another door. She stood for a beat, then staggered. He cursed as he caught her, his arm circling her as her legs gave out and she fell into him. 
“There,” her voice was barely audible as she jerked her chin toward the newly formed door. “Let's go. You’ll see what I mean.”
Annoyance, terror, and misery surged through him all at once. Her face was too pale, her fingertips cold where they touched his arm. They didn’t have time for this. But as he looked into her face, saw the determination in her eyes even under half closed lids, he knew. There was only one way forward.
“When this is over,” he said carefully, bending down to pick her up even as she huffed a protest. “If by some miracle we make it out, you’re going to bed for two weeks. I'm locking the door and throwing the phones away. Understood?” 
She grumbled even as her head lolled against his chest. “If we get out of this, I'm sleeping for a month.” she muttered.
“Deal.”
Her face brightened with the ghost of a smile as the door opened and he carried her across.
***
The memories started so gently, inviting him now, rather than dragging him. Inside them, he could feel Emma beside him, her presence like a steady heartbeat, guiding him. He held onto her, felt her grip him back, and let them both fall into the past together. 
They were alone, in his cabin below the deck of the Jolly. He was stretched out beside her, asleep on the too small bunk. Through Emma’s eyes, he watched her reach out and brush the fringe of his hair away from his face. Love, a constant, drumming, beating force inside her heart, bloomed up and spilled over her. In the privacy of his room, where no one could see, she let the tears sneak into the corners of her eyes. She hadn’t known it could feel like this. That love could be simple sometimes, that it could be peaceful. Killian made loving him so easy that it had almost blindsided her a few weeks ago when she realized what she had been feeling. She loved him. Of course she loved him.
There were times it nearly overwhelmed her. Even thoughts of him were enough to have the feeling flood though her, washing her in the blinding glow of it. She hadn’t felt love like this, not once in her life. She’d thought she had, thought she knew everything love had to offer and decided it wasn’t worth the hassle. But god. For Killian? She would do anything, give anything for this feeling. She would have loved him for free. She didn’t know how not to.
In the memory, past-Killian’s eyes fluttered. He groaned something in his sleep, turning to her, reaching for her. He was always doing that. She wondered if he knew. She moved her head to rest it on his chest, felt the steady beat of his heart and grounded herself with it. And when she drifted off to sleep, she couldn’t help the smile that grew on her lips.
The memory blurred, winding around them. Killian felt helpless to stop it. They were at Granny’s, sitting together at a booth. He was making her laugh about something, his thumb tracing circles on her palm. The bright glow of her love for him was like a banking fire, strong and steady. When he turned to look at her, when she saw in his eyes the love he felt for her like an answer to her own, it took her breath away, the love inside her chest growing into an inferno. She knew he loved her. She could feel it in every moment he spent with her. Killian Jones loved her so much it practically shone out from him and bathed her in the warmth of it.
It scared her at times, being loved so strongly. She wasn’t sure anyone had ever loved her this much. She didn’t think anyone ever would again. 
More memories formed, all blurring over one another. They were in the car, Killian had brought her coffee and remembered to include extra sugar packets. She’d kissed him like they were teenagers making out in the backseat. Then they were at the station together, going through paperwork. Emma had shivered and Killian had thrown his coat over her shoulders without looking up, the act almost second nature to him. She thought her heart might have burst open in that moment.
Killian wanted to stay in these moments, wanted to live in them as long as he could. But they were moving him, gently guiding him, and he let himself be pulled along. 
They were on her bed in the loft. She was on top of him, dizzy, joyful relief making her giddy. He was alive. She had watched him die in another realm and here he was. Alive. 
She loved him so much at that moment and it nearly paralyzed her. She had almost lost him without telling him, almost lost her chance to say it out loud, to make it real. And the idea of that terrified her even more. She should say it, now while they were alone, while they had this time. In his eyes she could see he knew, he knew the words she wanted to say, could feel his anticipation. 
He loved her, but he hadn’t told her. He hadn’t needed to of course, she already knew. But still he had held off, waiting for her to make the first move. He knew her better than anyone else, and he knew she would run if he moved too fast. So he waited for her. He was waiting now.
The words were there, ready, waiting to come out. And she couldn’t say them. 
If she told him, it would become something else. It would be out there, in the open, for anyone else to see. In this moment, her love, this perfect, precious feeling, was only theirs. It belonged to only them. And she wanted to protect it, keep it safe. At least for a little while longer.
She would tell him. Soon. She would sit him down and tell him the words and make everything real. But for now? For now all she wanted to do was hold him. To feel the weight and the warmth of him beneath her. To sit in the feeling of his unspoken love for her, just a minute more.
Killian’s heart clenched, hard. Inside the frozen moment he felt Emma, his Emma, press a kiss to his face. Sorry, she thought, and he heard it inside his head. I’m sorry Killian. 
There was nothing for her to be sorry about. She loved him. He adored every bloody inch of her and in return? She loved him back so fiercely he was nearly blown down from the force of it. 
He tried to imagine himself holding her, pulling her close. Was there more? More quiet memories like this? Full of love and endless happiness? He thought he’d like to see them.
But slowly, the memories started to fade, the colours running, the sound quieting. All around them, the light dimmed, and the magic ended.
***
Emma, he thought. Emma. 
She had been right all along. It was true love. How could it not be? How could this feeling be anything less than true love? He woke in the field, his heart full, turning to reach out for her. 
She lay in the grass beside him, unmoving.
For one awful, terrible second, Killian could only stare. Her face was too white, the skin of her eyelids a pale purple, her lips blue. She wasn’t breathing.
“No.” The word came out as a whisper. “Emma no.”
He moved mechanically, his arms jerky, his breathing shallow. No she couldn’t be. He had just been with her, in the memory. She’d been alive and had kissed him, she was-
Her whispered words came to him, unbidden. I’m sorry Killian. What had she been apologizing for? 
“No.” He repeated the word. “No, no, NO, NO!”
He touched her cheek and nearly flinched back. Her skin was frozen. Terror built up in him in a frenzy, a dull whine building in his head. She couldn’t be. She couldn’t.
He pulled her to him, his movements gentle, like she might shatter in his hold. Her head lolled to the side, her arms heavy and dragging, a dead weight at her sides. Something primal beat through his veins, a screaming, gnawing terror that bordered on hysteria. She was not dead. They had not done all this, come this far, for her to die. 
He pressed his ear to her chest and nearly sobbed when he heard a heartbeat. It was sluggish, but it was there. 
“Emma please, you need to wake up.” He cupped her face, rubbing his thumb across the icy chill of her skin, trying to press some colour into it. “I need you to wake up. Please-” his last word broke on a strangled plea, tears filling his vision.
A crack of magic snaked through the air and a door exploded into life several feet away from him. Hades burst through, his face a mask of pure rage. 
“You little-” he hissed. He came to a halt at the edge of the field, his snarl freezing at the sight of Emma in Killian’s arms.
“Well now. Isn’t this something?” A cruel, vicious grin split his face. “This looks almost  familiar doesn’t it? Killian Jones, holding the body of the woman he couldn’t save.”
His words bounced off Killian, unheard. He was too deep inside his own churning panic. She was fading, every second they spent here, she was slipping away. There was only one thing left he could think to do.
“Emma,” he murmured, brushing the hair from her face. “If you can hear me, please. Come back to me.”
He cupped her face and lifted it gently. From behind him he heard Hades shout.
“NO! DON’T YOU DARE-”
Killian pressed his lips to Emma’s. 
And the world exploded.
***
Emma had seen true love magic before. She’d felt it herself when Henry had nearly died in her arms. The raw power of it had taken her breath away. But it was a different feeling altogether to be the one receiving it. To be kissed by her true love. It felt like coming home. It felt like love. It felt like everything. 
Every moment together, every lingering thought, every second she had loved and been loved by Killian Jones crystallized into one perfect, all consuming force of magic that flowed all at once into her body. It ran down her boneless arms, flowing into struggling lungs, and filled her with a warmth and a light so full and strong it felt like being lit from within. And when she started to wake, when the sleeping curse snapped apart and her eyes flew open, she swore she could taste rum and sea salt in the air.
Killian’s face floated in the space above her, his wide eyes shining as his mouth hung open in an expression Emma could only describe as awe.
“Told you,” she said with a smile, her tired eyes still half drooping. “True love’s kiss. Works every time.”
He let out a watery laugh, dropping his forehead to hers. “Aye that you did. Should have known you’d be right.”
She hummed a weary sound of pleasure, even as her exhausted body throbbed like a bad toothache. Her fingers moved up to thread their way through his hair. “Wanna see if we can do it again?”
His breath fanned across her cheek as he huffed out a laugh. “May have delay that love. First,” he glanced up. “I believe we should figure out where exactly we are.” 
Emma frowned as things slowly started to come back into focus. White, glowing light seemed to surround them from everywhere, and when she tried to slowly pull herself up, the floor beneath her felt smooth and warm to the touch. 
“Your guess is as good as mine,” she said as she looked around. It almost resembled a hallway. The widest and most expensive hallway she’d ever been in. It had golden marble floors and walls, and impossibly tall, carved column pillars that held up a domed ceiling. It rose so high above them that they had to crane their heads all the way back to see it.
“Another memory?” she asked him.
“Not one of mine.”
“Well it’s not mine, I think I would’ve remembered this place.” she said, trying to squint up at the airy, arched ceiling.
“If you’re both done laying around,” a voice called from behind them. “The way out is over there.”
Emma nearly jumped as Killian's arms tightened around her, both of them quickly turning to look at the woman seated at the far end of the hall who hadn’t been there a moment ago. She sat, half sprawled on a stone bench draped with spotted furs, a massive bow between her bent knees that she was trying to restring. Her copper skin seemed to glow faintly as she pulled the string taught and glanced up at them, clearly annoyed. Emma tried not to tense when she noticed the intense yellow of her eyes, or the way her pupil seemed to lock onto them like a hawk. 
“Well?” she asked again, jerking her chin towards the other end of the hall. “Go on, you can’t stay here forever.”
“Ah, where exactly?” Emma stuttered as Killian helped her to her feet.
The strange woman with the bird eyes waved her hand, dismissing them. “Just ask one of the others, I'm busy here.”
“One of the others…?” Killian murmured, trailing off as they both turned. 
Dozens of bodies suddenly moved around them, all of them with deep skin that held the same faint glow as the woman, and all draped in loose, airy fabrics cinched at the waists. Some slowed to stare at them, their smiles warm but puzzled. Others ignored them completely, pushing past with somewhere else to be.
“So I guess we just,” Emma gestured forward. “Find the exit.” 
“It would appear that way,” Killian said with a frown as his hand found hers, pulling her closer.
“Are they..? I mean do you think we’re in-?”
“I don't think it would be wise to ask that question,” Killian said in a hushed tone, keeping his eyes lowered. “I have a distinct impression that we aren't allowed to stay here very long.”
Emma tried not to stare as they moved past the impossibly beautiful masses, even when she felt the force of their power brushing against her senses. The sudden, overwhelming urge to not draw attention to themselves, took over her, and she tried to shrink. 
“Up there,” she whispered to Killian as she pointed to a spot where the hallway opened up and forked off in two different directions. “Let’s just pick one and hope the way out is somewhere along there.”
He nodded, gripping her hand tighter. As they got closer, they veered left, away from the crowd of people, and down another hallway. This was once smaller than the first, and quieter, but still managed to tower over them. 
“If we get lost here…” Emma said after a moment.
“Let’s hope very hard it doesn’t come to that.” Killian said tightly, pulling her through an arched passageway. “I imagine this isn’t a place they allow you to overstay your welcome.”
They moved into a massive room, the floor curving down towards an enormous raised platform that held a throne made of pulsing, molten gold. On it, a bearded man, nearly three times their size, towered over them. His fingers drummed against the arms of the chair, sending sparks of lightning shooting and dissipating into the air.
“Welcome heroes,” he said, his voice echoing and deep. “I was wondering when you would arrive.”
Killian and Emma stood frozen, awestruck. His eyes were a burning gold and so bright they felt hot on her face. Emma's own eyes watered with the effort of looking directly at them. He smiled at them, his teeth blinding white against the dark bronze of his glowing skin. 
“You have faced your trial with great bravery I see.”
“I-ah thank you. We appreciate that,” she murmured, at a loss for what else to say. “Are you-? I mean is this-?”
He leaned forward, his attention on them scalding, like the heat of the sun beating down on them. Emma nearly felt herself take a step back, but stopped when Killian’s arm curved around her waist, holding her up.
“What Emma means is,” Killian glanced at her, his smile tight, his eyes slightly too wide. “What might we call you?”
The man reached a massive hand up, his fingers stroking the thick, dark curls around his chin. “I have many names, given to me by many people. Although, I believe the one you may know me as, is Zeus.”
“Oh.” Emma said in a whisper, unable to stop herself. Zeus. Of course. He was certainly… bigger than the other gods they’d seen.
“I’ve been watching you two as you embarked on my brother’s trials. That was quite the clever loophole to his test, little Swan,” he said, inclining his head towards her.
“Your brother?” she blinked, glancing at the crackling electricity arcing across his knuckles, then back at his sun lit face. “I can uh- see the resemblance.”
His laughter was a boom of sound that made Emma’s ears ring.
“Hades spends too long below ground,” Zeus said. “I keep telling him he should get out more, put some life back into his cheeks.”
Emma smiled and nodded, suddenly wondering if she was still caught in the dream realm. Was this really happening? Was she making small talk with the king of the literal gods? Beside her, she could feel how tense Killian stood, every line of his body pulled tight.
“You look distressed Killan Jones,” Zeus said. “I would think meeting a god would not affect you so, having met two of my brothers so far.”
Two? When the hell had he met another one? If they made it out of this without being melted into puddles, she would have to ask him about that.
“It’s not that,” Killian said, his voice deceptively calm, a charming smile on his face. “I just worry about overstaying our welcome here, as honoured as we are to be here.”
Zeus leaned back on his throne. He was enjoying this. For the time being at least. 
“You two have fought well today. True heroes, both of you are welcome in my halls.”
“Thank you, that is a great honour indeed,” Killian said, his voice growing slightly sharp. 
Emma could feel panic start to rise in her. They could stay here forever if they weren’t careful, talking in circles with a god who seemed in no hurry to let them leave.
“Is that why we’re here? Because we passed the trial?” she looked at Killian, held his gaze. “Did we win?”
“Well that depends,” Zeus said, his voice like heavy stones rolling down a mountain.
“Depends on what?” she asked cautiously, her tone holding none of the tremors she felt in her limbs.
“Depends on you, hero born of love and magic. Do you believe you have passed the trial? Do you believe you know now what kind of man Killian Jones really is?” 
Emma felt like time held its breath. This was it. This was the sort of thing they wrote legends about wasn’t it? Trials set by the literal gods to test heroes? Everything that happened now rested on her shoulders. No pressure. 
“Like I already told Hades earlier, there wasn’t any need for a test,” she said after a beat. “I already know what kind of man he is. And I was right.”
She turned to look at him and saw he was already facing her, his face filled with love and awe at the sight of her. “Well it’s true,” she said, low enough that only he could hear.
Zeus's laugh was booming. Emma tried not to wince as her ears throbbed. She glanced back at the king of the gods, her eyes going about as high as they dared without looking directly into his molten stare, and landing somewhere on his chin.
“WELL SPOKEN LITTLE SWAN!”
Emma swore her knees almost buckled beneath his praise, but still managed to nod her thanks
“I bear witness to you both. Emma Swan;” his enormous hand swept towards her. “Saviour of magic and of her people. And you Killian Jones; Hero of the Saviour.”
Emma thought she heard all the air shoot out of Killian at once, the title landing squarely on his shoulders and nearly taking him out at the knees. She gave his hand a reassuring pat. It was a good name. She would remember that.
“Thank you Zeus,” she said finally, nodding her head to him. “We’re ah- We’re both honoured.” 
Killian stood still beside her, and she turned to look at him. As if drawn by her attention, he turned away from the king of gods, and leaned into her. His arms rose, circling her waist, pulling her closer. 
“I will tell my brother the trial is over; you’ve both passed.” Emma could hear the grin in his voice. “I’m sure Hades will be most pleased.”
Emma doubted that. She just hoped they were both far the hell away when he heard the news. 
“Are we…I mean. Are we free to go?” she looked up at him, trying not to squint as she met his stare, even when tears started to form in her eyes. “Can we go home now?”
Zeus smiled and it was like watching the sun rising between mountain peaks, the light of it so brilliant and overpowering it left spots in her vision. 
“Of course,” he murmured. Behind him, a passageway opened, forming between the towering columns. White, brilliant light spilled from it, as warm and welcoming as a homecoming. “You have my blessing. Well met heroes.”
They both nodded, moving towards the door with the warmth of his stare on their backs. When they walked to the passage, hands held, Killian turned to her, his face shining. “You did it Swan.”
She gripped him, pulling him to her. “We did it. Now,” she smiled, a heavy mass buried deep in her chest finally releasing its grip on her and falling away.  “Let’s go home.” 
As they stepped into the light together and the magic curled around them, their heads tilted together, their lips meeting. A bright light, shining and radiant, erupted from inside them. The power of it shimmered, colour and magic spiraling together like jeweled starlight, holding a world of promise and the faint scent of middlemist blooms.
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