#Liam is of course Most likely to be wasted enough for something like that to happen anyway | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

1ddiscourseoftheday · 3 years

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Wed 2 June ‘21

Louis sent a message to a fan looking for a hello after a major surgery-- “Get well soon mate. Sending you loads of love x”- and added that he hopes ALL of us are doing alright; I never doubted it Louis! Niall got a little more specific with his really lovely message today- “HAPPY PRIDE MONTH, BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE. It’s your life, LOVE who you want to LOVE,” he tweeted! THANKS GUYS.

Liam though, Liam was all over today! He checked in on his way to play golf, on his way back from playing golf (with videographer Conor!), posted comments on discord, joined a new chat platform (Telegram; 5 minutes into Telegram and chill Liam was like OKAY it looks like we may need some moderators for this app lol YOU THINK?), he did a whole 25 min live, AND checked in even later to say he’d just had a shower and was about to play a new video game! New news of the day-- he is going to host a Veeps show showcasing new artists in July!! NEAT! His post about how his team forgot to turn off notifications on the phone they set it all up on for him on is really funny, YIKES; “this used to be an iphone now it’s just a bell” he joked, with video of the phone frantically chiming nonstop (“the power of you guys still blows my mind to this day”.) Also he said that he was very busy getting ready for June 15. Why, you ask, what is on June 15? UH? IDK?? He has so many things coming up? But that’s the NFT I think, which I KNOW a lot of people are mostly not that excited about but I will say that while I don’t care about the technology, I am excited to see Liam’s artwork he’s working on for it (which hopefully the purchaser will share with us), and Liam is truly so excited about the platform, he’s really trying to talk us into it. More on that in a sec...

But let’s get to the other parts of Liam’s live first. He has that new song coming, about which he said “it’s one that I’ve written the most on so far actually, as a single, I’m excited to say my own stuff for once a little”, love that. He’s still coughing but says he’s tested repeatedly and it isn’t COVID, and that he’s gone vegetarian recently, and he says the chat channels were inspired by seeing people using the veeps chat rooms even after the show ended, not wanting to leave. And he talks about 1D- about the notifs mishap he said “back in the band we used to wait for people we didn’t like to leave their notifications on and then we would like- oh make sure you follow this person on twitter! And then their phone would break for days- if someone did something that annoyed you.” HAHAHA where’s my masterpost of people who annoyed them 1D told us to follow, PLEASE? And also “it’s hard sometimes you’re watching people stories from afar that you used to know so well and that can be difficult… we’ve all felt this at different times me and the boys… it’s almost like missing a very dear friend a lot of the time but everyone’s so busy… I’d love to get us all in a room somewhere sometime” aww. But also he said he talked to Harry recently, “really a lovely call, he has a sixth sense for if I'm struggling or if one of us is in trouble, I spoke to him and it was a really lovely catch up. I have a lot of love for the man, he's really, really great"; well I wish Liam wasn’t stuggling but that’s lovely. And Louis too! "I spoke to Louis, I wanna say yesterday. We speak a lot, there's just a lot of laughing about random crap," he said, plus some Louis memories- “I can just hear his laugh in the back of my mind. We once broke into one of the stadiums in America and got chased by a woman… on one of those cop type things, a mall cop thing, and that was quite crazy. He also left me on my own while I was being arrested nearly by a French policemen that I had to push over… which that still scares me to this day. [laughing] That’s what friends are for! I helped him over the fence to get in somewhere, he left me with the policeman, who didn’t have a clue who I was and tried to arrest me even though I was just trying to go into my hotel.” UMM sorry I can’t hear anything past LIAM PUSHED OVER A COP?? Go ahead, make a list of ‘1D members most likely to fight a cop’ and if Liam isn’t DEAD LAST you’re just wrong and yet HERE WE ARE!! WHAT A DAY.

But alas rather than fighting cops now Liam is partnering with an entrepreneur (which I have had to type so many times in the last two days thanks to Liam that I guess I know how to spell it now they just keep SAYING it SO MUCH). Steve Bartlett said “the secret” is out, he recorded a podcast with Liam yesterday-- I’d call secret a bit strong, we had actually got that mate, but okay; he called Liam an entrepreneur and said “yesterday I recorded one of the most powerful, honest, REAL conversations on my podcast to date” and “if you love Liam you’ll love this.” I can absolutely guarantee you that is not true, I love Liam and already hate everything about this collab, but his wording does make me think we’ll get a bit of Liam’s trademark emotional spillage which I suppose I might appreciate despite this self help CEO guy being there too. Liam does have one thing to say that could sway me in this guy’s favor though- “he has the cutest dog ever” apparently! Anyway I may as well get used to him he’s suddenly everywhere-- Liam also patched him into his live to try yet again to convince us that NFTs are good by awkwardly relating it to “fans of boybands” by saying you know this could eliminate like fake tickets and such… Sure Steve sure but anyway he also says of Liam, “the guy you see on camera is the exact same guy off camera”.

Harry and Olivia were seen together in London (well, a grainy ass video of their backs was seen anyway), walking, with some people who look to be her parents and Harry’s PA (so romantic! Not at all work related!) I was initially skeptical of the claim that it was her parents since this fandom is obsessed with saying everyone is so and so’s parents (we’ll NEVER top the time the fandom was sure Harry was seen having lunch with Eleanor’s father though) but it actually seems like maybe it was. More for Harry to add to his collection, that man truly loves an extended family! I mean the whole thing is sketchy as hell, from the assurance that that’s DEFINITELY actually Olivia in the grainy video, FOR SURE, to the confirmation that that’s her mom with them which came when a blank insta page produced a random old picture of her mom in the same skirt, but like is it them, sure I imagine so, and people making sure we get the story anytime they’re together isn’t exactly new. In other news, Dave Meyers, director of the Adore You music video, says he originally pitched the Eroda story idea (“I have this idea, of you love- liking a fish”) to Katy Perry and the Black Eyed Peas, ASJKJASKL CAN YOU IMAGINE?

#Liam payne #holivia #harry styles #niall horan #louis tomlinson #2 jun 21 #the day we learned Liam fought a cop #HAPPY PRIDE INDEED #conor butler #liam has ALWAYS just spoken to louis yesterday but I totally belive him look at them doing all the same stuff #new artist showcase! this is totally them talking about this stuff #and he's totally the one that got Louis on the NFT thing #that's cute you guys now write some songs together again why don't you #I guess Harry could be tie for least likely to fight a cop #but like he wouldn't be out there talking about how great cops are which Liam definitely would #Liam is of course Most likely to be wasted enough for something like that to happen anyway #which I assume is what was the case

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primrose-path-of-dalliance · 3 years

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psa: trent ikithon is not as competent and powerful as he makes himself seem.

(cw: discussion of abuse)

i'm not sure how to get into this in a way that's natural, so i hope you don't mind if i go for the straightforward route.

trent ikithon is an abuser. that means his tactics all center around—and rely upon—making vulnerable people believe that he has far more power than he actually does. and when it comes to our pov, the m9's pov, ikithon is trying his damnedest to accomplish the same.

now, i don't know everything that's in matt mercer's head when he has played or characterized trent ikithon. i'm sure there's some depth to his motivations and intelligence, and i don't doubt that ikithon ideologically believes in strengthening the empire. but this is not relevant to the abuse tactics i want to discuss.

because the reality is this: abusers do what they do because they enjoy victimizing and controlling the vulnerable.

that's why you get abusers like archivist zeenoth who are attracted to positions of authority. those positions facilitate structural imbalances of power between them and their potential victims. trent ikithon, too, is doing the same thing—as an archmage of the cerberus assembly, he is exploiting the authority of his position to gain victims for abusing. he is not doing what he does because he's a brilliant mastermind focused on a goal. if he was, he wouldn't abuse his students.

think about it in terms of effectiveness. no matter what people like ikithon try to assert, his volstrucker are not in any way stronger or more capable from his 'tutelage'. caduceus clay roasted the man in his own dining room for this lie. what the volstrucker are are an organization of ruthless, skilled spies built from deeply abused and damaged people. they aren't healthy; they aren't stable. caleb widogast spent eleven years in a sanatorium because he was one of many recruits who broke under the abuse (see EGtW), and then five years as a solitary, paranoia-ridden mess in a filthy coat. he spent months trying not to self-sabotage his growing friendships and had a panic attack as soon as he left ophelia mardun's mansion in shadycreek (e27, 2:55:21). he has ptsd from using fire magic to burn people to death—considering his statement on executing traitors to the empire as a trainee (e18, 2:48:12), it was probably an everyday part of the job.

even the minority of volstrucker that do get through the training stage aren’t functioning well. only a few episodes ago, we watched astrid finish a conversation with caleb and then duck into an alleyway so she could curl up and have a five-minute breakdown before putting the composed mask back on (e126, 1:50:47). abuse makes being alive harder; good luck being a sustainable espionage program at that point.

so that's one lie. how about another?

at the dinner in ikithon's tower, ikithon implied that he has guided every step of caleb's path to recovery and ever-growing power. that caleb's plans to murder ikithon are exactly what he wants; that he even arranged his escape from the vergessen sanatorium (e110, 2:52:58).

i think enough people have recognized that ikithon's first claim is utter bullshit, considering that caleb and the m9 had just arrived from a random island on which they hosted a cult gathering festooned with phalluses. but the implication that he arranged for caleb's escape from the sanatorium was just that: an implication. he never says outright that he did so. he only couched what he knew in gaslighting platitudes and handed over the holy symbol of the cleric that healed him. you won't sense a lie that hasn't been spoken. he let caleb and the m9 make their assumptions, and the assumption worked in his favor.

let's consider the actual circumstances of caleb's escape (e18, beginning 2:51:54). a fellow inmate of the sanatorium who was a cleric suddenly grabbed him and healed him of his madness before returning to her own ravings. caleb then pretended he was still insane for two weeks before killing a guard, stealing the amulet that kept him hidden, and fleeing. how would any of these events work in trent ikithon's favor? the number of absurd assumptions here are off the charts.

first, you would have to believe that a cleric could permanently heal a man who'd been insane and probably experimented on for eleven years.

second, you would have to assume that this man would still be competent enough to pass general scrutiny and break out.

third, you would have to believe that he'd totally survive on his own without any resources whatsoever,

after eleven years of being institutionalized,

while first beginning deep in the pearlbow wilderness—

all without raising the suspicion of this apparently still hypercompetent ex-patient that his escape was too easy.

and fourth, you would have to believe that this man would actually accomplish something in your interests instead of, say, dying or remaining a vagrant beggar forever.

if this was all on purpose, then trent ikithon is really an idiot.

another truth: caleb was not special. both liam and caleb have said so (talks for e88, beginning 28:00; & e110, 29:06), with the examples of other volstrucker supporting this. all of them are talented mages and good at spycraft! they have to be to graduate in the first place! ikithon's assertions that caleb was extra special (e110, 2:52:11)? also a lie—specifically, a great tactic for convincing a victim of abuse not to think about it further. of course they're being hurt again. of course they're being targeted again. not to mention how abusers selectively compliment in order to confuse the people they’re hurting (relevant here: e88, 3:28:25). caleb having an unhealthy amount of hubris and thus open to being diagnosed with protagonist disease doesn’t help.

ikithon would have easily deduced the details of what happened and obtained the holy symbol after an investigation of the break-out. not too hard to piece things together if you simply ask about unusual events prior to the escape and learn that he'd had an altercation with another patient two weeks ago—and oh yes, that patient used to be a blasphemous cleric.

caleb widogast basically reappeared next door healthier, much more powerful, and more capable than ever. ikithon doesn’t have control over caleb’s entire past and future—but he wants him to believe he does. it’s a gaslighting attempt to make caleb question his own accomplishments and attribute them to ikithon so that ikithon can regain some control over his ex-student.

another truth: trent ikithon is already on thin fucking ice. no one in the cerberus assembly likes each other, of course, but a consistent point was made again and again that everyone deeply dislikes ikithon. he's stayed because he made himself useful, but he could and would get taken care of should he be a detriment instead (see e88, 3:19:27; & e97, 3:19:32).

any sort of thorough investigation into the volstrucker and the vergessen sanatorium would reveal exactly how fragile all of his agents are and how frequently he fails in conditioning his recruits. ikithon gets the pick of the crop when it comes to nationalistic, talented students that enter the soltryce academy. to find out that he drives a significant number of them insane? well, that's a pure waste of unrealized potential. and for what—a program of spies who are paranoid enough and opportunistic enough to turn on each other if prodded the right way?

and now... trent ikithon, as part of the traitorous beacon research, has been under heavy investigation from two fronts: the augen trust and the cobalt soul (e125, 2:31:10). and he has been getting very nervous recently (e125, 2:41:42).

the final truth i want to point out: trent ikithon is just as control-obsessed as any other abuser. we got the most obvious example of this yet from e128—his pursuit of the m9 to nicodranas and tidepeak tower. think about the circumstances again.

he was apparently so curious and so annoyed by caleb rebuffing all of his attempts at ‘conversation’ that he made his excuses before teleporting directly to nicodranas,

through a circle implied to be arranged diplomatically between the empire and the clovis concord,

with a plan to break into the lavish chateau, one of the most high-profile locations of the city, to potentially kidnap or kill everyone,

including the famous and beloved ruby of the sea.

he then chased the m9 and their families to the equally high-profile tidepeak tower on the open quay, all of which is owned by yussa errenis, an archmage himself who’s learned far more about local politics than he ever wanted to know,

intimidated his “man”servant,

and broke in.

and they did all of this possibly with some very confused members of the zhelezo following right behind them.

other people have gone through the potential political consequences of this more thoroughly than me, so suffice to say that trent ikithon has gotten himself into some deep shit. you can’t negotiate or magic yourself out of being witnessed by hundreds of people breaking into the tower of an archmage who is infamous among the locals for being a bitchy recluse.

if he was smart, and clever, and a brilliant mastermind, he wouldn’t have done any of that. what he could have done: continue to handle caleb from an ominous distance through spells like sending. allege to the cerberus assembly and king dwendal that the break-in was an underhanded cobalt soul mission because of beauregard’s association with the m9. or just straight-up say that the m9 broke into his facilities because they have a vendetta against him and have them at least investigated the next time the empire can hold onto them for a second.

but he didn’t do any of those much more clever possibilities. he acted impulsively and rashly and may well be on the way to a lot of trouble now. all because ikithon just could not handle caleb being saucy.

with all this in mind, i want to go back to one last detail: astrid and eadwulf. because these two would suffer terrible consequences if they ran away—allegedly.

because i want to ask... what exactly could ikithon do to them?

they’ve already killed their own parents. so far, we’ve had no sign either that they have anyone else important to them in his reach besides each other. they have nothing tying themselves to him besides years of abuse and the crimes they’ve committed as volstrucker. they might want some power of their own, sure, perhaps they want to kill him while they’re still close. but we certainly know that eadwulf and astrid are not invested in the volstruckers as it stands. they doubt ikithon. and they already have their own amulets.

so what else could make them so terrified by the idea of leaving with the m9 except the way that trent ikithon has abused them and convinced them that he’s powerful enough and capable enough to catch up to them?

don’t be fooled. he hosted the most embarrassing excuse for a dining-with-the-enemy scene (seriously, i hope someone reading this cringed the entire time as well from all the long pauses and terrible topic transitions) and then teleported away to flee caduceus clay’s scalding tea. no retort, no blackmail. he acted recklessly in nicodranas and appropriately pushed two of his own volstrucker to betray him, losing his one opportunity to capture the m9′s family there. and now ikithon is between a rock and a hard place in terms of political standing, with a spy network he has openly encouraged to turn against him.

there is no terror waiting in the wings anymore, no more strings he can pull. just an abuser playing up his own grandeur. at this point, the only thing he hasn’t reached his limit in yet is his high-level spell slots.

#cr #critical role #cr meta #trent ikithon #caleb widogast #astrid #eadwulf #abuse #gaslighting mention #prim post #prim says some things #long post #he's a horrible and despicable person who's #used his power to commit massive harm don't get me wrong #but don't fall for overestimating him- he wants you to

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loquaciousquark · 3 years

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Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E125 (Feb. 16, 2021)

Goooood evening good evening good evening, all! I hope you’re all staying warm and safe and dry in this chilly weather. Tonight’s guests: Travis Willingham and Laura Bailey.

We open tonight with Travis ribbing Brian for his continuous remodel of his office space. Laura demands a second introduction of herself as she wasn’t paying attention during the first one.

Travis: “You’ve gotta love Julianne Moore. She’s the only actress who can cry and show you all her teeth at the same time.” I was listening pretty closely when he said this and I’m still not sure it had any context.

Jester thinks there’s a strong possibility at least half the party will die against the Tombtakers. Fjord doesn’t think the odds are quite that high, but it will be dangerous. Laura points out that most of the M9 are also willing to sacrifice themselves for the rest of the party, so that changes their odds as well. Travis: “The game is not a stress reliever. It is not a stress reliever. I mean, it’s fun as shit, but it is stressful!”

Laura thinks Essek will give them a better chance. Travis: “A plus-one? A powerful plus-one, but a plus-one?” Did you see his reaction when we gave him the lowdown? Let’s be real: we kinda trust Essek. I got $50 that when we come back, he’s gone.” Laura is convinced he is trustworthy & wants to lighten his soul.

Jester spent so much time trying to bring out the Molly side of Lucien that to have him then betray them sucked. She knew that trying to bring the good out of everyone they met would eventually fail, but it stung that it was the most powerful one they encountered to first betray them.

She tries to talk about finger gestures during the answer as a reference to the HBO show “Raised by Wolves,” and Brian and Travis tell her to keep digging this hole she gets herself into about fingering. Travis: “Just get off the interstate at the next exit and turn right.” Laura, of course, immediately mimes turning a hard left, and they spent the next few minutes laughing at her inability to tell right from left and that even now she still has to hold up her hands to tell left from right.

Fjord is furious that they nicked the Bag of Holding. The loss of Vess DeRogna is bad enough, but he is genuinely IRL anxious about the loss of the Cloven Crystal. Laura points out that Fjord has also explicitly talked to Lucien about the deep sea creature patron he used to follow as well. He’s terrified one of Lucien’s scimitars is suddenly going to have a big eye sticking out of it. Laura suggests they’ll just succeed, bring back the city, and wake up Uk’otoa for the heck of it.

It was really rough to go from the Gelidon fight to the Tombtaker fight, especially since the first fight sent so well. Travis felt great that he initiated the dragon fight - he knew they had a far advantage in the numbers and felt that it was an open and shut case.

Laura does boggle that if Caleb hadn’t asked for that item from the Bag of Holding, they might have slept all night before realizing it was gone. They’re both relieved that they now know so much more about how the Tombtakers fight, especially the anti-magic cone. The most anxiety-ridden part was when they were trying to run and the TTs weren’t letting them. “You know when you don’t even have squares, when Matt’s black-tableclothing it, you’re in deep shit.” Laura had no spells left - she was so worried if she dropped the polymorph she would have had nothing left.

Travis: “Thanks for healing me, babe.” Laura: “You’re welcome, baby. It was ultimately a waste, though, because we took a rest immediately and you could just spend your hit dice.” Everyone laughs at Travis’s pain. She does say it was worth it in the moment since they didn’t know if they would be able to get away.

They joke that Laura’s just wearing the Fire Resist ring on a chain around her neck/Sprinkle is wearing it now to keep it safe since she’s not attuned to it anymore. It’s pretty hilarious!

Travis hoped that the TTs were originally actively looking for more acolytes rather than just having Caleb & Beau read the book. Otis needs to die. He’s relieved they have an idea of what all their blood rites do. Laura thought the time with them was fun, but it makes her retroactively wish that she’d dropped Zoran in the lava when they had the chance. Travis wishes they’d put a chime on the door of the tower.

Laura loved the tarot card reading, since Taliesin sent her really detailed breakdowns of the cards & gave her a real deck for Christmas. Taliesin told her she did a great job afterwards which she really appreciated, since she’s not sure what she’s doing. She does wish that she knew why Lucien seemed so nervous when she was talking about rebirth.

Cosplay of the Week! @clever_comics on twitter with a lovely Veth in her snowy lavender-colored outfit and pigtails.

Travis on confessing to Jester: “It FUCKING made me crazy!” He’s never been an instigator of campaign romances in the past, but because he loves Laura and was able to connect to her on that level he felt like it was a good challenge instead. He doesn’t think he could have done it with someone he wasn’t comfortable with. It was also important to him for it to be founded on real-game moments and after real-game time had passed, and he felt it was a very natural progression. Seeing the statues rip five years from her in such a benign situation made him realize that to let the opportunity pass wouldn’t have been worth it. He wishes he’d told Vandran what he meant to Fjord as well.

Laura loves that Fjord is becoming more confident as well. The post-Gelidon smooch took Laura completely by surprise since she’s finding Jester is a little surprisingly awkward with IRL affection, and she was surprised Fjord was the confident one there. “It’s so wonderful. It’s a matter of finding a way to get comfortable with it with her away from the Tombtakers.” Travis thought it was important to continue the “go for it” mantra. He notes that he’s pretty private about his personal life IRL, so it’s been a bit of a shift. It’s slower in a way - not a “you’re my one true love” kind of thing, more of a “let’s see where this goes and act on what you can” thing.

They were all “poopin’ in their pants” to get to go to Emon. The worst part was not getting to explore outside the tower since they had to leave again immediately. Kima is so cool, and Travis was actively trying to get Kima to come with them. Everyone boggles that they got to borrow Allura’s staff.

Laura only was thinking about the item-tuned-to-the-target-plane because she’d been texting with Liam trying to iron out their spell choices. She’s so relieved that they were able to get something tuned to the Sea from Allura.

For the most part, Laura knows what spells are the most useful for Jester, but every now and then she does get caught by major component requirements that she hadn’t noted. She wants to get another chalice for Hero’s Feast before they go into the Sea.

Dani points out that a lot of their allies right now are mages (no Kashaws, no Kimas, no Grogs) and they’re heading to a bad place for mages.

Travis has a sudden brain wave about all the TTs being from the Claret Order and wonders if they should investigate that before they pursue. I don’t even remember what that order is and I feel terrible!

Fanart of the Week! It’s a beautiful card by @crovyne on twitter of the Cree counterspell.

Laura really wants Brian to shave the sides of his hair and do Viking braids in the rest. I didn’t want to say anything out loud, but Brian’s hair is really looking pretty...pandemicky.

This is Dani’s four-year-anniversary of her start for Critical Role! Awww, Dani! You’re so short in real life.

Fjord is stoked that the Star Razor is a Vestige, and more now that he knows in-character what that means. It was great to see Allura react the way she did.

Jester doesn’t think they can really go to Nicodranas - they don’t have anymore time. Even more, Jester’s avoiding going home because she doesn’t want the Ruby to see that she got aged up/hurt on her travels.

Travis honestly assumes that the TTs are spying on them 100% of the time now.

Does Jester feel better now that the crest is away from Lucien? Yes, even though it’s gone off course. She thought dropping the crest where they were was a HORRIBLE idea and was appalled so many people were suggesting it. She saw the city with her own eyes, knows the danger of what’s coming, and if they had dropped it in flight she would have dropped with it and defended it as long as she could if that’s what would have kept them from getting it.

Travis thinks that if they can negotiate with Lucien, they should try. Everyone is super worried about Caleb’s and Beau’s new eyes and are fully anticipating they’re on a clock at this point. They wonder if it’ll drive up their exhaustion, allow Lucien to force them to fight against them, maybe make them willing slaves to the mysterious voice...they need to solve it sooner rather than later.

And that’s all for tonight! New episode this Thursday - usual time, usual place. Stay warm, friends, and is it Thursday yet?

#talks machina #talks machina spoilers #critical role #critical role spoilers #long post for ts

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screamingatanemptyroom · 3 years

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Please Fix the Story pt 22 - Sci Fi

New part is here! Just a few more in this world. Just realized that it's been about 1 year since I've started this story. Wow.

Masterpost linked here.

Enjoy!

____________________________

The school was greatly relieved to hear that I had made a Connection and was no longer a danger to myself and others. They immediately rescinded my suspension and "encouraged" me to resume training with my new partner as soon as possible. I found the quick 180 amusing, but didn't argue.

It took multiple video calls with Alaira’s father to reassure him that everything was okay, and a few more to prevent him from throwing a parade for Liam to thank him for matching his daughter. His tears of joy at the news was a complicated moment for me.

I had felt a deep sense of joy, but it was an emotion that didn’t belong to me... it belonged to Alaira. Watching him celebrate his daughter’s recovery felt hypocritical, knowing that in the world that I hadn’t taken over, his daughter hadn’t had a good end. She had died alone and afraid, her mind fragmented.

But there was no way to tell him that.

The mission completion status on my communication device had risen quickly from 1% to 42%. Liam and I spent every waking moment together, talking, joking, and learning about each other. We practiced making the connection with the Mech, powering and controlling it now a smooth, painless process. It was natural, coming as easily to me as breathing. Working with him felt less like learning with a new partner as gaining back a missing part of me.

I was happy.

But not everyone was glad to hear we had matched.

Shortly after our match was made public, Liam and I were walking down the hallway after class, and were forced to stop by a young, angry woman blocking our path.

“It’s a lie!” Princess Ilene glared at Liam as she faced us down. “William can’t be a real Connector! He’s always been just a useless waste. He's a stain on the royal family!”

Liam seemed unfazed by his sister’s cruel words, as if he were used to it. The lack of reaction and the implications behind it made me even angrier. I stepped forward, hiding him partly behind me, and smiled pleasantly. My expression and pleasant tone obviously confused the princess, who took a step back.

“Ilene, Ilene, there’s just so much wrong with what you said… I don’t even know where to begin!” I shrugged. “ But, correcting idiocy IS my calling in life, so let me give it a shot:”

Ilene’s face was red with rage, but I ignored her incoherent sputtering, holding up a finger.

“First, Liam is capable of making the connection. He just had a strong barrier. Obviously it isn't impossible, or he and I wouldn’t be matched. “ I held up a second finger. “Secondly, and more importantly: even if he COULDN’T make the connection, he still wouldn’t be useless. He’s a kind, wonderful person, and that’s more than you can say about most Guardians or Connectors… present company included.”

“ How dare…” Princess Ilene took a step back. “What are you trying to say?”

I blinked, shocked “Oh, was I not being obvious enough? I don’t like you. I think Liam is a much better human being than you, and find it pitiful that you try to derive your self worth from putting him down.”

Liam stepped forward, grabbing my hand. “It’s ok…”

“No, its not. You don’t deserve for people to call you trash.” I felt emotional, as if something deep inside me was trying to break free.

“It’s always been like this.” He shrugged, “I’m used to being alone.”

____________________________

“Friends, family?”

The man in front of me was smiling at my question, but the expression was so sad it made me want to cry.

“None.” He twisted his hands in his lap, looking away. “I’m supposed to be alone.”

“Why?”

“Supposedly that’s my fate.”

____________________________

“You are not trash.” I tightened my grip on Liam’s hand. “ and you’re not alone anymore.”

“I know.” He smiled, “Thanks.”

Princess Ilene spoke up, obviously tired of being ignored. “How dare you trample on Chris’s kindness and reject him for this tr…” She started to say the word “trash” but seeing my face, nervously trailed off and started again. “You don’t even know if you two have a high enough resonance match to ward off your mental degradation…!”

“We do. It’s gone.”

She paused, thrown by my matter of fact tone. “… But what if you’re a higher match with Chris…”

“Don’t care. I hate him.”

“… But…”

“You do bring up a good point, though.” I turned to Liam. “We should see what our resonance match rate is.”

He looked nervous. “What if it isn’t very high?”

“Doesn’t matter. We’re already partners. I’m just curious.” I grinned. “Plus, I’m pretty sure it’s really high, and I’d love to use that to shut people up.”

He chuckled at that. “If it means that much to you to rub it into people’s faces...”

“It does.”

We walked towards the match center, leaving Princess Ilene stunned into silence behind.

____________________________

Liam got more anxious the closer we got to the match center. “You promise you won’t break our partnership if our match score is low?”

“You know I wouldn’t do that.” I didn’t feel insulted at his questioning. I could feel his insecurity, the need for me to say out loud what he thought he knew. “Low or high, we’re partners. You’re stuck with me.”

“Good.” He sighed, grinning. “I like being stuck with you.”

Finally, we were facing the machine that had failed us both so many times. Irrationally, I felt a little nervous, the many prior failures of the past few weeks too fresh and painful to completely forget.

Liam stepped away from me, reaching out and placed his hands on the panel first.

“Unrecognized tester. Please let down your mental barrier to proceed with Match testing.”

I rubbed my forehead tiredly as the robotic rejection echoed loudly around the room; “I forgot your barrier is still around since it doesn’t effect me anymore.”

“Honestly, I had forgotten too.” He responded with a happy smile.

A crowd was starting to gather, curious at our actions. As more and more people realized what we were doing, I began hearing the whispering between them.

“Didn’t she go crazy?”

“...thought she couldn’t match?”

“He has a barrier? ...never could match.”

“I heard they already formed a connection.”

“Heard her dad is a general, spread the rumor of her matching so she wouldn’t get kicked out.”

“Isn’t she matched up with Chris?”

“Why are they here?”

I grabbed Liam’s hand again, feeling relieved when I felt his warm skin against my own. “Don’t listen to them.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” He stared straight at me, ignoring the hostile words and gazes of the crowd. “You’re beside me, and that’s all that matters.”

I squeezed his hand in my own. A strong desire welled up within me to be worthy of the trust he gave me. I wanted to show everyone what Liam could do, the bond we had... but of course it couldn't be too easy.

“We just have to figure out how to get your barrier down enough for the machine to read you." I glanced down at my hand that was still holding his. "I mean, I’m touching you now, right? There’s no barrier between us?”

He stared down at our clasped hands, his cheeks tinged pink. “Yes, I feel you. I mean, no, there’s no barrier.”

“Good!" I gestured to the pad with my free hand. "Then why don't you try again while we're still touching each other?”

He placed his hand back on the machine.

“Please let down your mental barrier to proceed with Match testing.” The machine's voice repeated itself calmly.

His hand fell away, frustrated. I could feel his anxiety, and worried deep down that I had made a wrong choice. I did this to reassure him that we are a good match. To shut up everyone saying that it's a made up story to justify the removal of my suspension. To prove to everyone that Liam isn't useless, even by their own stupid standards.

But none of this will happen if he can't use the machine.

I thought it over, and grinned as I came up with a plan. “Hmm… Well, there’s one other thing we can try…”

I leaned in and kissed him, grabbing his free hand with my own and placing it on the pad together. His breath caught in his chest and he froze in shock very briefly before kissing back. In that moment I almost forgot why I had kissed him in the first place, but the robotic voice quickly reminded me.

“Resonance match detected…. Scanning…. Resonance Frequency Match...100%.”

The voice had barely faded before there were shouts of shock from the crowd. The room descended into chaos at the announcement. I broke away from Liam, who was still distracted, and stared at him.

“Did that machine just say… we are a 100 PERCENT match? I didn’t even think that was possible!”

Liam blinked. “I’m sorry, I dinwhat did you say?”

“We’re a perfect match, Liam.” I laughed. “I knew this was a great idea!”

Definitely didn't completely doubt the plan halfway through... yep.

“So… no one can separate us then?” His body relaxed, and he reached out, pulling me against himself and hugging me tightly. I felt the trembling of his muscles and knew that the anxiety he had shown was only the tip of the iceberg. His true fears and insecurities were still well hidden, even from me.

I hugged him back, waiting for him to back away. The crowd’s murmuring were now a loud roar, as everyone discussed a match rate that most thought impossible to achieve. And there, in the back of the crowd, I saw a solitary figure standing there, watching us with a blank stare.

Chris.

I shuddered, holding Liam tighter. The first thing I had done when Liam and I announced our match was to report to the authorities Chris holding me in his room. I suspected him of drugging me as well, remembering the prick of the needle before falling unconscious.

I was laughed at.

“Why would a student with a crystal clear reputation go out of his way to kidnap a general’s daughter? He already had a match, a better one than his resonance with you if I recall. If anyone had motive to kidnap someone, it would be you to him!”

The words were cutting, made worse by the pity on their faces.

“It’s obvious: your mind was breaking down due to the strain without a Connector, and came up with this fantastical plot of being kidnapped.”

And despite my objections, the claim was dropped. I hadn’t seen Chris since the day we parted in his room.

Until now.

His gaze held mine. He was expressionless, watching us with a detached, almost clinical air. I would have almost thought he was bored, or at least uncaring about the situation in front of him… if not for his eyes…

His eyes were burning with rage.

I looked away first feeling an odd sense of familiarity, as if something similar had happened before.

____________________________

A few days later Liam and I had our first mock battle. Suspended together in the Connection chamber within the Mech, the constant physical and mental connection with Liam made operating the Mech much easier than it ever had been alone.

I fought with a sword, having abandoned the dual guns completely. I breathed a sigh of relief at the speed I could move at as I ducked under the enemy Mech’s attack. Turning with the spin of my dodge, I used the momentum and I swung around to slash the torso of our opponent with the sword.

“Nice hit!” Liam’s voice in my headset was excited. He was cheering me on along the way, spurring me to show off with more complex moves when possible, hoping to impress him.

I pressed the attack, slamming the Mech with the shoulder of ours, and kicking it to the ground before it could recover its balance. The movements were smooth, and my head was clear of any pain. The prior drain and discomfort of controlling the giant robot was completely gone.

As our opponent fell to the ground, I pressed the tip of the sword into the Mech’s neck. The referee called out our victory, and the crowd around the arena cheered, but it was just noise to me. All that mattered was Liam’s excited babbling in my ear.

“That was awesome! I’ve always wondered what it felt like to win a Mech fight, and it’s so much cooler than I ever imagined! This is great! When can we fight again?”

“Glad you had fun, Liam.” I laughed at the innocent delight in his voice. After the stress and pain I had experienced since waking up in this world, the uncertainty of who I was and why I was here, there was something simple and healing about being by Liam’s side.

I feel happy.

I was nervous about admitting it, even to myself, as if the simple acknowledgement of the positive emotion would be enough to destroy it. But I couldn’t deny it. I WAS happy.

After we had undocked and changed, Liam and I relaxed in the fighter’s lounge. Liam as always, had a container that he pulled out of a bag, opening it to reveal a slice of cake. I took it from him with a murmur of thanks, and after the first bite sighed with joy.

“I've been meaning to ask you: Where do you get this cake? It's obviously not from the school shop, it’s way too good!”

Liam smiled at the question. “I made it myself.” Usually more quiet and shy, he seemed very confident when it came to matters such as food. The change in his attitude was something I loved to see.

“Really? You made it? This is too delicious… if only I could have this all the time.” I took another bite, savoring it. As I swallowed, I looked up at him and joked. "Yep, I think the only solution would be for me to just marry you.”

“…” There was a strange silence in the room. I ate some more cake, unconcerned at first, but as the awkward stillness stretched on I paused in my actions, turning towards Liam again with a questioning look.

His face was bright red, and he stared at me with a look of shock and joy.

“Liam?”

He nodded, and blushing more, pulled out his communication device, dialing a number.

“Who are you calling…?”

Alaira’s father, General Gladus showed up on the holographic projection from his device. He stared at Liam, confused for a moment, before barking out with a frown. “Who is this?”

Liam sat up straight, staring at the man with a solemn expression. “General Gladus, my name is William. I am the third born of the Royal family, and a first year student at the academy, and a Level S Connector.”

General Gladus grinned. “I know who you are, son. You’re the wonderful young man who matched with my daughter. I’ve been wanting to talk with you and thank you…”

“Your daughter has asked me to marry her and I have agreed.”

“What?”

My father and I asked in unison.

“I was very happy to receive your daughter’s offer of marriage. I will do my very best to support her in all her endeavors.”

“She proposed?”

I silently mouthed an echoing question as my father burst out loudly. “I proposed?”

Liam nodded. “I wanted to let you know so that you could arrange for military leave and be present for our wedding. I know the paperwork can take weeks to months. ”

“…” General Gladus looked stunned. Slowly, his hologram turned towed me. “Alaira, is this true?”

"Yeah, military leave paperwork is notoriously slow..."

He interrupted. "No I mean about the engagement!"

I glanced over at Liam’s excited face.

____________________________

“I don’t believe it’s real.” He whispered, staring down at our hands that were clasped together. “I thought that I was always going to be alone. I thought my fate… my role… ”

I fiddled with the silver band in my hand, trying it on his finger. “Screw fate. We’re getting married now.”

“Yeah.” He grinned, the smile lighting up his face, making the whole room brighter. “Screw fate. I’m your husband!”

____________________________

I shrugged. “What can I say? We’re a destined couple.” I briefly explained about our 100% resonance match.

“… Did you say 100% match?” At my nod, General Gladus opened up his arms. “Welcome to family! When's the wedding?”

After a few more minutes of discussion, Liam hung up, still looking happy.

“Should we notify your parents?”

His face froze. When his gaze finally rose to met mine I shrunk back from the dull look I saw there.

“No reason to.” He reached out, tucking back my hair. “A family without love is just blood related acquaintances. You’re my real family, wife.”

I hugged him again. “That’s right. I’m your family.” I hadn’t really meant to propose… it was just a joke. But the second he called me wife, my heart had felt a sense of recognition. It was happy, but also hurt, a deep remembered pain. A panicked feeling rose up within me, as fear, despair and sadness came in waves, before leaving quickly, overwhelming me without warning or reason. I desperately wanted to remember something, to tear open the fog clouding my brain and peer at what was hidden behind it. But I couldn't.

You must accept your fate. A metallic voice rang in my head, cold, dispassionate, filled with undeniable.

“No.” I whispered, tears filling my eyes even if I wasn’t sure why they were there.

Liam noticed my distress. “Alaira?”

“I'm fine." I think we should go back to practice.” I pulled him to his feet. “We’ll talk more about this later.”

“You’re right, let’s continue working hard so we can save the world like you wanted. But on our next break, we have a wedding to plan!” For the first time, Liam was more excited than me to get to practice. He grabbed my hand and raced forward.

____________________________

Later that night, I went back to my dorm room, still thinking over my last conversation with Liam. He was energetically talking about wedding plans, making lists and drawings with the hologram on his communicator, storing them in special file with my name on it.

When I asked him why he was so excited, he paused, staring down at his hands. “Have you ever felt a desire that was so strong, it seemed to be beyond anything you’ve experienced before?” He glanced up. “I feel this, Alaira. Deep in my soul. I want to be by your side. I want to marry you, but even if you didn’t want that, I’d be your minion or your sidekick. Being by you… helping you… it’s such an integral part of myself, I couldn’t separate from it if I tried.”

“Liam…”

“I think I believe in reincarnation and soul mates.” He smiled. “I’m so happy right now that I think this has to be a hallucination, it can’t be real.”

“I don’t believe it’s real.” I felt the memory of the young man’s whisper in my head again, and pushing it back, I leaned forward to kiss Liam gently.

“It’s real.”

Now alone in my room, I couldn’t help but feel bewildered by the connection with Liam, the emotions and memories that accompanied every moment with him.

“Who am I?” I leaned against the wall and whispered to myself.

“That is the question isn’t it?”

At the unexpected answer I straightened up, falling into a defensive stance. Recognizing the intruder did not make relax, however. If anything it made me more tense.

“Chris. What are you doing here?” I kept my voice calm, trying to hide my inner tension.

“I’m getting tired, Bel.” He sat down on my bed and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m just… so tired of all this.”

“What did you call me?” The name resonated with me, much more than “Alaira” ever had.

He ignored me. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You were supposed to give up right away. It promised me…”

The room fell into silence. I stood as still as a statue, barely daring to breathe. I was desperate to hear more, terrified to let him continue speaking. Chris’s voice was different, his tone filled with years of regret. His eyes when they stared at me, seemed to look right through me, as if seeing through my skin to something deeper and more profound.

“Why can’t you just accept your fate, Bel?” He sighed, the sound seeming to drag on too long. “Everything depends on it.”

“What do you…?”

“The lower realms you treasure… the friends you’ve made… even…” He hesitated. “Even his existence depends on everyone having their role and playing their part.”

“I don’t understand what you mean, Chris.”

“MY NAME ISN’T CHRIS!” He yelled, the sound startling in the otherwise silent room. “Just like yours isn’t Alaira. Just like his… it wasn’t supposed to be…”

“Liam?”

”THAT WASN’T SUPPOSED TO BE HIS NAME!” Chris, or whoever he was, stood up, his face red with rage. “He corrupted it! He refused his role, and ended up tricking you to do the same.” He stepped closer. “Why do you always force me to be the one who has to carry the weight of the realms on my shoulders? Why does he get to be the only one who is happy? I don’t want to play these games anymore, Bel.”

“I’m not playing games!” I shouted back, frustrated. “I don’t remember anything!”

“And you won’t. Not until it’s over. But it will be soon. Because I’m going to end it.” He walked towards the door, preparing to leave, only stopping when I grabbed his arm.

“No. You aren’t leaving until you explain what you meant.”

His eyes lit up briefly at our contact, and I pulled my hand away quickly. “You made a bet, Bel, and these are rules you can’t escape. All it takes is one failed mission. One failure before you can finish the task of piecing together your soul.”

“Piecing together…?” His words struck a chord within me, but I shook my head. “I may not understand anything going on, but I’ll tell you this: I won’t fail my mission.”

The light is his eyes dimmed. “You started this. Just remember that, when you regret everything. You. Started. This.”

He left through room, slamming the door behind him. I stood in place, staring blankly, my mind racing.

Realms, real names, missions and bets… I don’t understand any of it.

But I knew one thing, as certainly as if it were imprinted on my soul.

I would not accept my fate.

Even if I couldn’t remember what that fate was.

Even if I had to destroy fate itself to escape it.

#writing #please fix the story #sci fi #lost memories #a little more liam #plot for the sci world about the speed up.

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once-upon-a-pirate-ship · 2 years

Text

How Restlessly the Stars Do Gleam - Chapter 6: Under Moonlight

Haven't heard of How Restlessly the Stars Do Gleam? Here's some things you might be familiar with: Enchanted Forest AU, Princess Emma (the most badass of them all), slave brothers Killian and Liam, a younger brother Leo, a particularly cruel Evil Queen (no redemption arc, whoops), and curses that play on familiar ones with terrible twists. Also, I've managed to turn this into much more of a slow burn than I thought I was capable of.

This fic is rated M for depictions of graphic violence, mentions of torture, and possibly alarming descriptions of pain. As of right now, there is no smut in this fic. If that changes, I will add the tags on AO3 and mark before/after it appears in the text so you may avoid it if you wish.

Story summary: After the Evil Queen kidnaps and curses her family and destroys her kingdom, Princess Emma is on the run. She boards a merchant vessel with her godmother Red, and they intend to travel to Arendelle to seek magical assistance. But when Emma discovers the dark truths aboard Captain Silver's ship, she must put a stop to his cruelty and rescue the Jones brothers from their enslavement. Emma has to find her own allies and face her fears in order to save her parents, her brother Leo, and her kingdom.

This features many of our favorite characters like: Will Scarlet, Belle, Tink, Roland, and more!

Posted on AO3 here --

or read chapter one: 'Unfit for a Princess' on AO3 here.

@kmomof4 @ouatpost @jrob64 @teamhook @tiganasummertree @zaharadessert @ultraluckycatnd

DM me to be added to the taglist for this fic or future stories!!

Killian wasn’t used to the forest. He wasn’t used to the ground not rocking beneath him, or the wind that actually died down from time to time. His skin smelled of the sea, and he was only able to tell that because the rest of the world didn’t.

But he’d lived long enough aboard ships that navigating uneven terrain didn’t make him lose his feet, and while he felt mentally unsteady without the lull of a vessel, he walked on, unfazed by the unfamiliar for once in his life.

The castle they sought was buried deep in the woods, at least three days’ trek from the port at which they’d started. Killian and his brother had trailed behind the others when they’d started hours before, electing themselves the role of scanning the treeline and waiting for signs of anything that had the potential to harm them.

His feet, while unused to any distance beyond the length of a ship, did not burn from their hike. Soon enough, he found comfort in the rhythm of his steps as if they themselves had become waves, and although his heart thudded unevenly whenever his eyes caught a glimmer of her golden hair, he kept firmly on his course.

They didn’t stop until hours later when the light had threatened to dim too low for safe travel, and though his body protested with the ache that had set in, Killian volunteered to gather the firewood while Will and Red hunted for something more than the berries they’d found to snack on while the sun had been much higher.

The majority of their meal had been spent debating who would take watch that night, and Killian tried not to stare when Liam skillfully fought their captain until she surrendered, allowing the brothers their victory only after promising to take the watch the following night.

—

Killian raised a hand to his shoulder, massaging the muscle for a moment. The stillness beneath him had him uneasy, kept him tense in moments that didn’t require it. Now, however, as he sat with his back against a tree and the hilt of his cutlass in his other hand, there wasn’t much else to do but be tense.

In many ways, being on watch was a relief to him. He imagined that he’d never be able to sleep if Emma were in his place; he’d be lost in his worry—and then trying to convince himself that he wasn’t worried—and he’d waste good hours tossing and turning on his bedroll.

When Liam had woken him for his shift, he’d hardly slept at all then either, too aware of the sounds that hummed around them from the forest, nothing more than the creatures that lived there. Without the familiar crash of waves, his ears strained themselves until sleep settled uneasily over him.

But now, in the absence of company or distraction, the realities of his thoughts were far too loud and depressing for him to bear, and he sat silently repeating the words he didn’t want to be true—the words he needed to be true. Just the tone of it echoing through his head had nearly been enough to steal all his senses, but he was committed to his role as their guard for the next few hours until dawn broke.

He’d cataloged every inch of their camp, could have navigated around their group even in the absence of the moonlight overhead. His brother lay nearest to him, ten paces or so, with Will not far behind, his hand still grasping one of his knives. Tink and the Lady Red were opposite them in their clearing, ten or fifteen paces further. Emma’s position formed something of a triangle from the others, curled up on her bedroll with her back to their camp.

He was aware of her more than anyone else, as he always was. And though he tried not to, his gaze still slid back to her sleeping form whenever he finished his scan of the trees; every glimpse of her was a reminder that his skin still pricked from where her hands had been when she’d pulled him from the sea.

Because he wanted her. Gods above, he wanted her, needed her like a sailor needs the stars, like he hadn’t had a map to understand himself or the world he lived in but now he had a guide, and it was her.

But as soon as he’d realized it, the happiness that bathed his heart was drained—because he could never be enough. They stood realms apart, a frightening distance, and no matter how many times her words and actions had closed the distance, he could never forget that she deserved better.

This was his mantra for the weeks at sea, the words he spoke silently as they trekked through the woods, the scent of the smoke that weaved from the dying fire at their temporary camp. He repeated them in his mind so often that they were etched there, still present when sleep would claim him, lacing themselves into his dreams.

His heart was raw and knotted from hours of this, but every time he saw her it made the sky streak with stars that he longed to know; in the same breath, he plucked them all from where they gleamed restlessly, tucking them away where he couldn’t be tempted.

All of that disappeared when he heard her, just a whimper.

His eyes snapped to where she lay in the clearing, but she was no longer still. She rolled, her hand trembling enough that he could see it across the space, and her face was painted with moonlight and pain.

It was just a nightmare. He tried desperately to convince himself of it, but seeing her like this, knowing that she faced something, even in her sleep—it nearly killed him.

He got to his feet, careful not to wake the others as he crossed to her, kneeling beside her bedroll and tightening his grip on the hilt of his sword just to keep himself from tracing the perfect curve of her cheek, trying to soothe her distress with his touch.

“Emma,” he whispered, his brows furrowing when she only tossed more. The nightmare still clutched at her, and he couldn’t bear it. He held his breath as he raised his hand, resting it gently on her shoulder. “Emma,” he repeated, the slightest bit louder.

Her eyes shot open, and there was only fear, no recognition as she recoiled from him, curling in on herself before scrambling back. “No,” she cried, pure terror overwhelming her.

Killian retracted his hand immediately, falling back and off his knees in his haste to put more space between them. “Emma, it’s Killian,” he said softly, “you were having a nightmare.”

When she flinched at his voice, it crushed his already wounded heart, and although she blinked back into reality and the fear in her gaze disappeared, he wasn’t sure he’d ever recover.

“Killian?” she asked, relaxing the moment her eyes absorbed what was in front of her.

“It wasn’t real,” he told her, comforting them both.

Her arms came to wrap around her legs, her knees tucking into her stomach. She allowed her eyes to close briefly, taking a few deep breaths.

He’d never seen her like this, not really. She’d always stood firm against everything threatening, had always been the first to raise her sword in defense. But now she still trembled, nearly cried from whatever the nightmare had forced her to see.

“It was,” she murmured, so quietly he almost didn’t hear her. “It was real.”

And then he knew. Because there’d been one significant crack in her bravery, and that was when she’d told him about the Black Knights. Only for a second, just a flicker, but he’d seen it. Recognized it for what it was.

Anger and concern worked in equal measure to fortify him, and he scanned the forest around them once more, just so he could be certain when he told her.

“You’re safe now,” he breathed when his gaze flicked back to hers. “You’ll come to no harm under my watch, I promise you.”

She exhaled slowly, releasing her hold on her arms. “Thank you,” she said, repositioning herself to lie back on the bedroll.

He stood, intending to return to his spot, but her voice stopped him.

“Wait.”

Killian turned, finding her staring up at him.

“Will you…stay close?”

“Of course,” he said, abandoning his path at once and searching for a new tree to sit against. He couldn’t—wouldn’t let himself—choose the one closest to her, barely an arm’s length from where she sat, but he chose the next, and he settled onto the ground about five feet away.

Killian watched her out of the corner of his eye until her breathing evened out once more, and then he let himself check her for any more signs of distress. He didn’t look away until dawn peeked through the trees, her face glowing in the golden light.

—

It wasn’t cold enough, Leo thought. There should’ve been snow on the ground, there should’ve been more of a prickling chill in the air. They were too far south.

Leaves crunched beneath his feet as they plowed onward, but he knew they’d have to rest soon, for Belle’s sake. Wherever she’d been before being locked in that dungeon, she obviously hadn’t spent as much time training as his mother had. But outside his family, he wasn’t sure that was a common occurrence.

Roland’s curiosity, though it had matched Belle’s, had been tamped down by his survival instinct, and when Leo had offered only his name and his urgent desire to put as much distance as possible between them and that prison, he’d agreed.

But they were running out of time. He could feel it. Only a few hours before it would happen, and he couldn’t be anywhere near them by then.

When Belle stumbled on a jutting root, catching herself on Roland, Leo brought them to a stop.

“I don’t think we can make it much further tonight,” he said, surveying the forest around them and spotting a clearing some fifty feet away.

“Traveling by moonlight is safer in some ways, perhaps,” Roland commented, helping Belle to their temporary camp.

Leo didn’t look up, he simply busied himself with gathering a few dry sticks and leaves and stones, although he knew they’d both sat on a fallen log nearby. His hands shook when he tried to strike the flint, and it wasn’t until Roland’s hand stopped his that he fell back, letting him light the fire while Leo sat uselessly beside him.

“She didn’t just imprison you, did she?” Belle asked, and when Leo’s head snapped up, he felt utterly transparent beneath her gaze.

“No,” he murmured, watching the sparks catch on the leaves. “No, and I’m afraid that once the sun is up, I won’t be…available anymore.”

“So it’s a curse,” she concluded.

The fire grew slowly, guarded by the rocks he’d encircled around the kindling. His silence was answer enough for them both, and he found Roland watching him steadily.

“What did she do to you?” he wondered, his voice edged with something rough, something heavy. His eyes burned into Leo’s.

It was too much for him to take, and he glanced away, finding that he needed to watch the trees for danger. “Nothing you should ever see,” was all he said.

“So what happens now?” Belle asked.

Leo’s hands folded together, and he watched his fingers slide against each other instead of anything else. “If you’d prefer I left you, I’ll do that. With time, I will only become more of a threat to you.”

“No,” Roland said firmly. “No. You helped us escape. We’re allied by our common enemy. And you’re too good in a fight. We need to stick together.”

“I’m the prince,” Leo told him, meeting his gaze at last. “My parents are Snow White and Prince Charming. My existence alone puts you in danger, not to mention my curse.”

But Roland didn’t waver, and Belle looked unconcerned and perhaps a bit stubborn.

“She already wants us both out of the way,” she said. “It’s safer if we’re together, just like Roland said.”

“My father, he mentioned your mother a few times,” Roland added, a smile curling his lips. “Said she was a force to be reckoned with, or at least from what he’d heard. There was definitely a bit of awe in his voice when he said that their wanted posters were side-by-side back in the day.”

Leo laughed, just a gentle chuckle from hearing this reminder of who she was, amused and unsurprised—but it was the first time he’d laughed in weeks, and though he wanted his companions to be safe and away from him, also knew that having allies, friends, was too important.

“Okay,” he said after a long moment. “We’ll stick together, at least for now. But I’ll need to be somewhere far enough away that we’re not risking it. My transformation is linked to the stars—perhaps a specific constellation, I haven’t figured that out quite yet—but when the first star appears overhead, that’s when I change back.”

Leo shifted, glancing up at the sky with a furrowed brow. “That’s all I should share for now. I’ll keep heading north, and I’ll mark a tree with this symbol nearby.” He picked up a stick, drawing a diamond shape in the dirt, and then he stood.

“I’ll see you when night falls again,” he said, preparing himself for the solitude that would come.

Roland got to his feet, a hand going to his shoulder. “Stay safe, my friend.”

“You as well,” he nodded.

Belle moved to stand in front of him, a sweet smile on her lips before she pulled him into her arms. “We’ll see you soon,” she promised.

It’d been so long since someone had hugged him, since before all the pain and terror and panic and death, and it took him a moment before he could hug her back.

“Yeah,” he croaked, having to force himself to let go. “Right. Okay, well, try to sleep,” he muttered, leaving before either of them could say anything else.

He walked on, dragging tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand and he couldn’t tell why exactly he was crying but the list of possible reasons was more than enough to explain it.

An hour passed before he found a secluded enough place, a thick grove opening to a clearing that held the rubble of a house, nothing more than stones scattered on the ground. He found an angled rock that was sharp enough to carve into a tree—Emma would’ve killed him if he’d used his dagger on something like a tree—and then he found another one to climb, and he tied his bag to a high branch for safe keeping.

He kept the sword with him. They’d stopped at a stream a few hours from the prison, washed themselves and their swords and took turns drinking from the small cup that he’d taken from his cell.

In the light of day, they would’ve seen the water run red. But now it was clean, glinting in the first gray haze of the dawn.

“Won’t be long now,” he said to himself, sticking his sword into the dirt and moving to stand in the middle of the house that didn’t exist anymore.

He closed his eyes, not wanting to know right before. And plenty of things waited for him in the darkness of his mind. Half of them were him.

“I’m coming, Emma,” he whispered, because he needed her there, he needed to think she was there so she could tell him it was okay—tell him that he was okay. “I promise I’m coming, and I’m gonna stop people from getting hurt, I swear.”

He fell onto his knees, ignoring the rocks that stabbed into him because they were nothing, or they wouldn’t be in a few moments. “I’m not bad, Emma, I promise. I’m not, I’m not…you’ll see, I swear, Emma, I—”

Fire clawed into him, cutting off his words with his own strangled cry. His bones, his blood, his body dissolved into the furious blaze and the pain it knew best, trapping him inside a brand new cell, one that had no lock to pick.

“I’m sorry, Emma, I’m so sorry,” he sobbed, and the tears were cool until they weren’t, until they were flames of their own, and his mouth no longer belonged to him, it belonged to a monster.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, he repeated in his head, wishing he could keep the dragon at bay, but knowing he wasn’t strong enough to stop it. I’m sorry.

And when he raised his head, he was taller than the trees he sought comfort in, and if he unfurled his wings, he would have leveled the forest on either side. He curled in on himself, trying to find warmth in the sunlight that rose steadily, but he was cold. He was always so cold after the fire took him.

—

He’d barely dozed by the time the sun dimmed, and the realization startled him awake. It was worse to be struck with the pain when he wasn’t prepared for it.

The curse had started to wear just slightly, he thought, because he could feel the difference in his mind now that it was returning more to normal. And it had only been a few weeks.

Leo lifted his massive head, peering through the trees. Though the world lacked color, he could taste the movement that rustled a mile away, could smell the human travelers. It was them. They’d come for him.

His momentary joy was shattered by the snarl that broke free without his consent, his cursed form crying out at the pain that began where it always did when he changed back.

He held his wings in tighter, trying to lessen the brunt of the burn that rattled his scales, but it never helped. It had started, and there was nothing he could do to stop the pain.

Leo buried his head beneath his scorching wings, bracing himself against it all as his bones joined in the dance of fire that ripped into him. He writhed with the slashing of his muscles, the shredding of his scales to reveal skin.

And then his cry was more human than not, and though he tried to suppress it, nothing worked.

He was still half-monster, still on fire despite the lack of a single spark, and he lost himself in his pain, senseless to the moans that fell from his transforming mouth.

“Leo!”

He couldn’t look to see who had called his name—he couldn’t see anything, his eyelids still peeled themselves of scales, still grew back and shrunk and twisted into place.

He cried out once more, and this time it was entirely him, but the small victory was washed away when the last of his wings burrowed into his sides, forcing him to curl tighter into himself, his human eyes squeezed against the pain.

A cool hand on his shoulder was balm to the fire that still burned, and he blinked through blurry eyes to see color, color and Roland crouching above him.

Belle appeared, and it took Leo a moment to see that her eyes were filled with tears, too. “We’re not leaving you, Leo. Never,” she said.

“That bitch…” Roland growled, but Leo had closed his eyes again, still panting from the exertion, and he couldn’t see the determined anger that lived on his face.

“Here,” Belle said, “we brought water.”

Arms were helping him, propping him up against one of the larger stones of the house’s foundation. And then water lapped at his lips from the opening of a canteen, and he drank for a long moment before he looked at them again.

“Where’d you…get that?” he managed, nodding towards the canteen.

“You don’t want to know,” Belle said at the same time that Roland told him, “Stole it.”

Belle sighed, shaking her head at the thought. “I don’t like it. I know we had to, but—”

“Steal or die,” Roland said simply. He offered Leo another drink, but he declined. “Are you okay?” he asked, studying his face.

“Better,” Leo replied.

“How often does that happen?” Belle asked, concern pinching her brows together.

Leo shrugged, wincing when the ache there sharpened.

“It happens twice, doesn’t it?” Roland said, not really a question. “Once when you transform, then when you change back.”

“Yeah.” Leo shifted under their gazes, and he tried to stand. “We should get going—”

“Not before you eat,” Belle insisted. “And you should rest more. You’re still in pain.”

“We brought you breakfast,” Roland said, half a smile tugging up his lips.

Leo sighed, raising himself to sit on top of the stone. “All right,” he allowed, but he couldn’t disguise the relief that hummed beneath the layer of pain because he didn’t have to do this alone anymore. He had people who could take care of him, people he could take care of, too. Hope glimmered in his chest; they would make it.

—

Emma marched ahead, taking her frustrations out as she cleared the brush to make a path. Every look they’d shared across the deck, every silent conversation they had, every blush and gasp and—

She sighed heavily, refusing to look back at the group that followed her. He was there, she knew, bringing up the rear with his brother.

She was tired. Tired of walking, of running, of not saying things and saying things, tired of the guilt and the fear, tired of that look Liam would give Red or Red would give Liam when something in particular happened. Her lips were exhausted from holding back her words, and her eyes burned from watching him for any sign of anything. And her heart was practically wrung out by now, every twinge with his hesitance, every flutter with his blush, every squeeze with his perfect words.

But she couldn’t seem to banish the thought of him the night before, when he’d reeled away from her, when he’d settled close but not nearly close enough, when he hadn’t reached for her like she’d wished he would have.

And now in the daylight he put as much space between them as possible. She got the message. She just wished she hadn’t.

All of this—her irritation, her worry, her feelings—it was pathetic. Because she didn’t have time for feeling anything, not when she needed to focus on saving her family. And this was—she huffed again, slashing a bit too strongly at the leaves covering her path, because she couldn’t convince herself that it wasn’t important. That he wasn’t important. Even if she’d wanted to, as good as she was at telling when other people were lying, she’d never have fooled herself.

Ahead of them, something snapped. It was a twig, nothing more, but panic swelled in her throat and she knew.

Her hand rose, a signal to the others to stop, but by the time they did, it was too late.

They scattered at the first sound of crushing brush, and the first Black Knight appeared between her and Red, brandishing his sword as he selected his target. It was the widening of his eyes at her face that sent Emma bolting after dropping her satchel, trying to draw him and the others away.

Leaves smacked the sides of her face as she ran, weaving lines through the forest to keep them from predicting her next move, keep them from getting too close.

But she was close enough to the others that she could hear the clashing of metal against metal, the grunts and cries of a fight that she had caused.

The first Black Knight got too close, and she turned abruptly, slicing a clean line beneath his helmet and sending him onto the forest floor.

But that was only the first.

Two more were on her before she had time to blink, and she parried their attacks as best as she could until she dove, rolling and landing on her feet behind them and forcing her blade through one of the knight’s backs.

The other had already gone in for the attack, and Emma dropped down again, using her leg to sweep him onto the ground where she sliced his throat before he could pull her down, too.

She wiped her brow, raising her sword once more towards the sound of rustling leaves, but it was Killian who appeared, a streak of blood on his cheek.

He was frantic by the time he reached her, grasping her arm firmly. “There’s too many, they keep coming, we have to—”

The creaking of armor made him spin. They were already surrounded.

The Black Knights wore matching grins as they went to form a circle around them, and Emma tightened her grip on Killian’s arm.

“Drop your weapons,” one knight ordered. “Now!”

They did. There were too many—two swords wasn’t enough to take down ten guards. Not at once.

“Surrender yourself to Her Majesty, and we will consider sparing the lives of your friends,” another Black Knight said.

Killian swallowed, she was able to make out the exact movement of it, and then he turned back to her, his stormy eyes wide and urgent as they searched hers. “Swan,” he murmured, and for a second, she was terrified that he was saying goodbye.

They stood closer than they ever had before, his face only inches from hers, and his free hand slid against her waist, pulling her close. Her breath caught, a thousand lost possibilities racing through her mind, and then his perfect eyes flashed, his fingers teased up from her waist, and she understood.

Just for a second, time lulled. It stretched into impossible things, dragged the others away, brought her focus to only him, only their breaths that mingled in the space between them, only the feeling of his fingers against her. The feeling was too new, too gentle, too real, she simply had to fall into it, just for that one second, and then the blade clicked free and Killian went for the nearest knight.

The next few seconds blurred together as knives barreled through the air before they connected with the knights that charged as soon as they’d realized what was happening. All eight blades found temporary homes in necks and chests, and then Emma and Killian retrieved their fallen swords, dispatching the last of the Black Knights that sought their destruction.

Ten knights lay on the forest floor beside the other three she’d killed, but another two appeared from where the others had been, and Emma raised her sword once more, but a whistling arrow struck first, taking down one then the next.

Every new knight that appeared met the same fate until her allies wandered through the trees behind them, bleeding and bruised but no worse for wear.

Emma spun around to see where the arrows had come from, but no one was there. She tensed, her blade still at the ready, but a voice sounded through the woods.

“Any enemy of the Evil Queen is our friend!”

People stepped into view, sending Emma and the others back a few steps. The newcomers held their weapons to demonstrate their desire for peace, but Emma did not lower her sword.

The man who led them stopped about ten feet before her, his hands raised to reveal his palms, though Emma’s eyes found the quiver of arrows and bow strapped onto his back. His brown hair was tinged gray, his handsome face lined somewhat—close to her father’s age, Emma thought—but his kind smile did not yet put her at ease.

“I am Robin of Locksley, and these are my Merry Men,” he said with a bow, a habitual introduction, she assumed. A throat cleared, and Robin corrected, “Merry People, my apologies. Mulan has only been with us a few days.” He gestured to the woman who stood amongst the men, and she bowed her head respectfully.

“Based on the posters I’ve seen in these woods,” Robin continued, his attention on Emma, “I believe that you must be Princess Emma, which would make us allies.”

“Why’s that?” she asked, her voice loud and steady and every bit as royal as she wanted it to be.

Robin’s eyes darkened, and his men shifted, anger and discomfort rolling over the group. “Because the Evil Queen took my son,” he replied, and that was familiar to her, that look in his eyes.

“How old is he?”

“He is but seventeen,” Robin told her.

Emma sighed, letting her sword drop until the tip of it pointed to the ground. “Leo’s age,” she breathed.

“Allow us to join ranks,” Robin continued, and though it had the wording of an order, it was more of a plea. “I seem to recall your family’s penchant for always finding one another.”

“Yes,” Emma said, “we do.”

“Then we can be of great use to each other.”

She wanted to agree, but this wasn’t just about her. She glanced around to each of the others, asking a silent question and receiving silent answers. It was unanimous.

Emma resheathed her sword, crossing to Robin. When she held out her hand to shake, he took it.

“I look forward to fighting alongside someone trained by the fearsome Snow White,” he said, a levity in his voice that she reveled in.

Their alliance would be helpful for all of them, and in more ways than one. She was sure of it.

#once upon a time #captain swan #captain swan fanfiction #ouat #cs #cs fanfic #ao3 #captain hook #captain swan fanfic #fanfiction #hrtsdg #How Restlessly the Stars Do Gleam #chapter six #chapter 6

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axwalker · 3 years

Text

If The World Was Ending: Even if he was wicked

Synopsis: When Bianca leaves her son without looking back, Drake has to live on the streets until he finds a home with Angelica Ortiz--Lexie’s grandmother and a foster mom. With the Ortiz, Drake finds a family and falls madly in love, until a tragic night changes everything, threatening the life Drake fought so hard to get.

To catch up (HERE)

Pairing: Drake Walker x Lexie O’Brien (MC) The Royal Romance.

A/N: This will be a very angsty, full of drama, small town romance.

Words: 4,120

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Pixelberry, except for Lexie’s grandmother and mother.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Child neglect, abandonment, sexual assault, prison and a very entitled, “evil” Liam

Due to the several trigger warnings and some of the subjects I’ll be dealing with, I will only tag people who actively asked for it. If you want to be tagged in the following chapters --or untagged, please leave a comment.

Drake

2008

When I was 12 years old, my mother took off with my little sister leaving me in Cordonia with my father's best friend. I reminded her too much of my father, too much of a life she would do anything to forget. That "anything" included abandoning her oldest son. I'd like to say I was surprised, but the truth is I wasn't. Bianca Walker had never been a motherly woman. The only reason she had taken Savannah with her was that my Aunt Leona adored her. I was sure my mother would dump my little sister on her and never look back. I hoped that was the case, Leona despised me, but she was great to Savannah.

A short time after that, Bastien passed away and my mother was nowhere to be found. That's when I started to go from one home to another. The first year and a half were the hardest ones. I lived with four different families, each one worse than the last. First, the Lockes, where the family barely talked to me. Then, the Ruiz that made me take cold showers and sleep on the floor. The Godwins where the “mother” used the check the state gave her to buy alcohol instead of groceries. And finally the worse, the Fields. They seemed nice enough when I met them. Not kind but polite. The first few weeks everything seemed normal. Then one day, I got in trouble at school, and Mr. Fields --the pastor of his community, beat me up to “teach me some manners.” His punishments became a usual thing after that.

Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore, so I escaped. Better to be on my own than believe some family was going to love or adopt me. Obviously, there was something very wrong with me. My own mother had left me, and I had never found my place anywhere else.

I lived on the streets for 6 months. I did all kinds of jobs. Not a lot of them were legal but there were few opportunities for a 14-year-old runaway kid. The most money I got was when I stole car parts that I got to resell to a gang called the Mercy Park Crew. The boss, Mr. Kaneko was fair and paid well enough. I could’ve kept living by myself if something hadn’t got terribly wrong at my last job. One of the boys from a rival gang decided to teach me a lesson and I ended up in the hospital with a concussion. A nurse called social services so here I am in a car with another social worker on the way for another foster home. It doesn’t matter, I know it won’t last anyway.

When you’ve been in the system as long as I had, you learned to look for certain warning signs when placed in a new home. Drugs, ulterior motives, threatening fathers, drinking mothers. After an hour, we drove through a town looking like something straight out of a movie. Valtoria. I’d heard of it before. The family my dad had been protecting when he died lived there. The house we pulled up to, was a large two-story construction with dark brown siding and an immaculate green lawn.

Joelle, my new caseworker had popped up out of nowhere in the hospital and told me I was coming with her. Just like that. From the way Joelle talked about the new place, I figured it was some sort of transitional home for rejects like me. Too old to get adopted and too troubled for anyone to voluntarily take on. I didn’t ask her anything else because I knew I didn’t have a fucking choice. Besides, I knew words don’t mean anything. I was a kid in the system. I went where they took me. Sometimes, I hated it. Sometimes, I really hated it. This time was different. In more ways than one. Usually, I was dropped off by my caseworker, and the people receiving me were about as excited as they were about junk mail. No one has ever come out to greet me before. As long as the woman at the door wasn’t sizing me up for a skin suit, it didn’t matter.

The social worker got out of the car as I grabbed the trash bag that I used to carry my shit around. She rang the bell, and a small, older woman opened the door. Joelle had told me in the car that the woman fostered several boys and I knew what that meant. She wanted the money the government gave her for keeping us. Well, I wasn’t going to make it easy for her. If she wanted to cash a check at the end of the month it was going to cost her. I’d make sure of it.

I had seen it all, but I still was caught by surprise when the tiny woman opened her arms at me and gave me a one-sided hug. A fucking hug.

“I’m very happy to meet you, mijo,” she said in a strong accent. “My name is Angelica Ortiz but everyone here calls me Abuela. Grandma in Spanish.”

The woman was deluded if she thought I’d call her grandma. She was obviously trying to impress the social worker with her fake kindness, hugs, and stupid names. I wasn’t going to be fooled that easily.

I didn’t even answer her as we stepped into the house. Another woman, a younger version of the one staring at me was waiting for us in the living room.

“Hi, you must be Drake. I’m Elena. Welcome.” She gave me a smile. Fake, I was sure but at least she hadn't tried to hug me. The older woman was talking to Joelle about me. Probably about my problems with authority, anger issues, and lack of communication skills. I knew my file by heart.

I barely nodded at Elena, and the three women exchanged a look. “Let me take you to your room, Drake. You’ll be sharing it with Maxwell. He’s doing his homework with my daughter in our house across the street. You’ll get to meet all the boys and my daughter Lexie tonight.”

She walked me to a room on the second floor of the house. It seemed clean and comfortable. Another ploy for the social worker. Two bunker beds with blue blankets and a wooden desk full of books were the biggest pieces of furniture. The left side of the room was covered in posters of who I figured were famous boy bands. There were a few of David Beckham, the only guy I recognized. Other than that there were clothes everywhere. That Maxwell dude was a fucking slob. Great.

“I told Max to take down some posters so you can decorate half of the room to your liking; This is your room as much as it is his. He's usually much more organized than this." I notice she speaks with a sort of fondness. "It was picture day for the school yearbook and he took hours getting ready. ”

I shrugged. I wasn’t planning to stay long anyway. I couldn’t care less if that Max kid left his posters on the walls or not.

She glanced at my garbage bag. “Are those your clothes, mijo?”

I scowled at her. I knew what mijo meant and I was nobody’s son. “My name is Drake.”

She smiled. “Of course, Drake. So, are they?”

I didn’t bother with an answer. A nod was enough.

“I cleared you this part of the closet, so you can keep them there. When you’re ready come downstairs; my mom and I will show you the rest of the house. The boys are out but we’ll all diner together tonight. Do you like Mexican food?”

I shrugged.

The woman smiled. “Shrugging is not an answer, mij- Drake. Either you like it, you don’t, or you haven’t tasted it in which case I can tell you, you’re missing out. Especially when mami cooks.” She winked at me as if we were friends or something. The woman was insane. “So, what is it, Drake?”

I’d never had it before, but she wasn’t going to tell me how to answer a damn question. “I hate it.”

She frowned --clearly disappointed, and I almost felt bad for her. Almost. “I’m very sorry to hear that. We already made Enchiladas for tonight and we don’t waste food. You can tell us your favorite dish though so we can make it for you.”

I shrugged again. Generally, that's when the person talking to me loses her patience but Elena Ortiz only smiled at me again. “Think about it. Every Sunday night, we pick someone’s favorite and cook it. It’s really fun. Next Sunday will be your first here, so you get to pick. Mami is a great cook and she can make anything from a mean chocolate cake to the best cheese pizza. See you downstairs, honey.”

Great. I’ve only been in this house for a few minutes, and I already hated it. The only thing worse than a home where you were beaten up as a welcome was a home where people pretended to care. My third foster home had been like that. Ms. Godwin had been all kind and nice at first. I almost felt like she cared about us. A week later, she had gotten drunk. For two days, neither I or the two girls she fostered had anything to eat because she hadn’t bought any groceries. I had to steal a twenty euro bill from her purse to buy food. She got angry and called the social worker who had come for me and taken me to the Fields. The worst home I ever lived in.

I wasn’t going to go downstairs but I decided that if I wanted a chance to escape it was better if I knew the house. Before I could explore a little, I heard my name from what I assumed was the kitchen.

Elena was crouching in front of the oven. “Drake has such sad eyes, mami. He’s only 14.”

The woman that had asked me to call her abuela, answered as she chopped an onion. “This boy has been living in the streets for more than a year. Do you realize it? Pobre angelito. So young and he has already seen more horrors than most people see in a lifetime.”

“Joelle told me that he had escaped from his last foster home.”

The older woman scoffed. “Home? If that’s how you call people that foster kids only for the money, they get in exchange. I don’t want to imagine why he fled those places." She turned to her daughter who had finished whatever she was doing in the oven and was drinking a bottle of water. "Stop watching me work, Elena and help me with diner, por Dios.”

Why was she pretending she didn’t care about the money? It was obvious. No one did anything for free. There was always a catch.

“Dónde está mi venadito?”

“Lexie and Max are at our house doing homework, mami. Be careful, though, if Lexie hears you calling her “your little deer” she’ll kill you. The boys called her Bambi for months after they heard you the last time.”

“Nonsense. She’s my venadito and that’s that. You two will come to eat here tonight. I want Drake to meet everyone.”

Elena rolled her eyes but patted her mom on the back. “Yes mami. Lexie is dying to meet him, she and Max made a chocolate cake for him. I’ll call her in a minute. Where are the boys by the way?”

“Bertie is trying to teach Leo how to drive. Poor boy, I hope he makes it alive.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure Leo will be careful. Bertrand will be fine.”

“Oh, it’s not Bertie I’m worried about, it’s Leo. Bartie has no patience with him.”

I left the kitchen before they said anything else. I was sure I was going to hate this stupid place. I was angry. More than angry. Furious. After a year of successfully running away, I was back in the damn system. Back in yet another home where people seemed to care about me in front of the social worker just to ignore me –or worse, once she left. I had to admit that my new foster “moms” played their part better than most. The old one had hugged me and the other one had given me a smile that seemed real. But I knew better. No one really cared for me. No one gave a shit where I slept, what I ate, or if I was ill or scared. Not that I was ever scared. I had seen everything.

The front door was locked so I went to the backyard. I saw a small wooden house on top of one of the trees. I decided it was a good place to hide and be myself.

I sat there for a few moments when I heard someone climbing the tree.

“Hi!”

I looked up and saw a girl a couple of years younger than me. She had the biggest pair of brown eyes I’ve ever seen and was smiling at me as if I was her best friend.

“I’m Lexie! I live across the street. I’m Angelica’s granddaughter. You’re Drake, right?” I didn’t think it was possible to smile more but the girl proved me wrong when her grin widened. I simply nodded.

“Welcome! I know that it must be hard for you to feel at home because you like just arrived but you’ll love it here. I promise. Valtoria is great. We have lakes and the mountains and when it’s warm enough we can go camping all night. You’ll love the house too. I mean between you and me the boys are kind of a pain in the ass but they’re pretty great when they want to. Or when they're not teasing me. Especially Leo and Maxie. Bertrand is a know-it-all. He thinks because he’s sixteen he knows everything." She rolled her eyes clearly offended by the idea that someone could know more than her. "Abuela, that how we all call her because she’s Mexican and would murder us if we call her grandma, is amazing. I mean don’t get me wrong, she's super strict, and as my mom says the woman is never wrong but she’s the best person I know.”

I blinked. I didn’t know a person could talk that much without taking a single breath.

“Do you camp?” She asked as she folded her legs in front of her.

I did before. Before my dad died and my whole life blew up in a million pieces. Not that I would explain any of that to the chatty girl, so I just nodded again.

“Great! It’s getting warmer and Leo wants to go to a new camping site next weekend. Don’t tell him I said this but he’s like the worst camper ever. I have to double-check everything he does but I don’t tell him anymore because my mom said it wasn’t nice.”

I wondered how could someone carry a whole conversation by herself. I hadn’t pronounced a single word since the girl had shown up.

“I want to be your friend but I can see we’re about to have our first fight.” She told me in a teasing tone. “You’re wearing a Liverpool t-shirt. We worship Barcelona in this house. Well, Abuela, Leo and I do. The others couldn’t care less about soccer.”

I looked at the shirt she was wearing. It read "If they don't have soccer in heaven, I'm not going."

She noticed I was looking at her shirt and beamed. "Abue said my shirt was disrespectful to God but mom thought that was dumb and bought it for me anyway."

"Do you like soccer?" I finally asked.

“Like it? I love it! Did abuela saw your shirt? She hates European teams. She thinks Tigres is the best.”

“Tirgues?”

She laughed, and the sound of it did something weird to my stomach. “Tigres. It’s a Mexican team. She goes crazy when they play.”

“What team you like?”

“Barcelona, obviously.”

“Liverpool made it to the finals of the last Champion’s league.” I pointed out.

She shrugged. “They lost so it doesn’t count. Do you play?”

“Sometimes.” I tried not to show how much I loved it. It was something else my dad and I shared that had stopped when he died.

“I play too. How old are you?”

“Fourteen.”

“I'm twelve. Well, almost thirteen, my birthday is in May.”

I frowned. “It’s November.”

“I know. I’m almost there.” She beamed. "I'm almost closer to thirteen than twelve anyway."

“Do you always talk this much?”

She laughed and my belly did that weird thing again. “My mom says I was a parrot in another life. I talk more when I’m nervous.”

“You're nervous?” I liked that I could make her nervous but I didn't know why.

She blushed and I liked it too. “A little. What happened to your eye?”

“I got into a fight.”

“Wow. You can’t do that here. Leo is always getting into fights and abuela has to ground him.”

She sure mentioned that Leo guy a lot. “Is Leo your boyfriend?”

“Gross!! Leo’s is like my brother. He, Bertie, and Max live with abuela. We’re a family. You’re family too.”

Fuck that. No matter if the girl was sort of cute. I didn’t have a family. “No, I’m not. I’m not staying.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I don’t belong here.”

“Yes, you do; I swear. Plus, I need someone to coach me, so I can get into the school team next year. Leo promised he would, but he never has time.”

“I suck.”

She shook her head and smiled at me again. “Somehow I don’t think you do.” Then she gave me a conspiratorial look as she pulled out something from her jacket pocket. "You can't tell my mom about this but I took this from her room." It was a white iPod. After scrolling a little through the screen she settled on The Beach Boys. She couldn't possibly know it but they were my dad's favorites. She passed me an earbud and we didn’t talk after that. We just sat together for a while hearing music until we heard our names being called.

“That’s abuela. We should go. She hates to wait. Plus, I'm starving and we're having enchiladas. You'll love them.”

Lexie ran to her house to --as she put it-- 'hide the evidence.' I went back to her grandma's house and stepped into the kitchen.

“Drake, pass me the salt, mijo. It’s next to you on the counter,” Angelica said as she kept on turning the sauce she was making. “You like enchiladas?”

What was with all these women asking me what I liked to eat? I leaned against the black counter while she opened the lid of another steaming pot on the stove, and stirred its contents with a long wooden spoon. I shrugged. I didn’t know if I liked it. But it smelled better than anything I ever tasted, so it couldn’t be all that bad. My mouth started watering, and my stomach growled. Come to think of it, it had been a while since I’d last eaten.

“You know, I know you feel weird now. And you don’t like to talk a lot. Soon, you’ll learn that this is a safe place. We aren’t gonna judge a single word that comes out of your mouth or any of them that don’t.”

I suddenly felt like I owed her a verbal response in exchange for her kindness. Fake or not. Besides, I just knew the chatty girl I’ve just met wouldn’t be happy if I was rude to her grandmother. “Yes, ma’am.”

She smiled at my verbal response. “But just so you know. We do have a few rules in this house.”

Here it comes. The catch. Angelica put the lid back on the pot and leaned over the counter on her elbows. “You just need to go to school, find a hobby or sport you like, don't swear, respect the curfew and keep your room clean. Every child in this house has chores but it’s too soon to figure out yours. For now, you only have to get to know us.” Her eyes crinkled as she smiled at me. At that moment the timer of the oven rang and Angelica took a huge dish out of it. She covered it with more steamy, tomato sauce, sour cream, and grated cheese and put it back in the oven. At least, I might get some good food while I figured what I was going to do next. Because no matter how nice and kind everybody acted, I was not going back to school. I used to be good at it without much effort; I had friends and a soccer team. But I had missed a lot in the last two years. I felt dumb and stupid.

Suddenly, the front door slammed open. “Cuidado muchachos! Be careful with that door against the wall, or you’re going be spackling and repainting this entire house,” Angelica yelled out. Three teenage boys filed into the house, followed by just as many apologies.

“Sorry.” “Oops.” “It was Max’s fault.” “

“These are Maxwell, Leo and Bertie,” Angelica introduced. “Boys, this is Drake.”

“Hi, man!” The blond one said with a shit-eating grin. “Abuela, Lena, you guys didn’t tell me you were buying a Liverpool fan.”

“Adoption is not a purchase of people, Leo” the oldest one --Bertrand, corrected.

“Yeah, cause if it was, then you got Leo from the clearance rack,” the youngest one joked, checking his reflection in the hallway mirror, smoothing back an out-of-place dark hair. “I hope you kept your receipt.”

“Fuck, off,” the blond one replied with a middle finger.

“Watch it, Leo,” Angelica warned. “Boys.”

Max kissed her on the cheek. “Sorry, abue.” She forgave him with a smile, then swatted at his hand with her spoon when he dipped his finger into the pot.

“I’m glad you’re here, bro” Leo said. I stood, and he gave me a fist bump without touching my hand.

“Me too! And we’re going to be roomies,” the kid named Max said. He grabbed a stack of plates from the counter. I followed him over to the long dining room table and helped set the table for seven people.

2020

I lost count of how many days I’ve been in the hole. It wasn’t my first time in here and it sure as hell it wouldn’t be the last. It was always the same routine. Days and nights blended into one making it impossible to know what day it was or how much time I had been in here.

I have been in jail for six excrutiating years. I had known from the day I heard the sentencing that the only way I was going to survive was if I didn’t think about her. It was the hardest thing I had to do but after a while, my routine was running smoothly and when my head hit the pillow at night, I was too fucking exhausted. She haunted my dreams and my nightmares, but I didn’t think of her beyond that. Except for the hole. Locked up there, cold, hungry, and utterly alone her face, my memories of her were the only thing that helped me go on.

I replayed in my head our first encounter, our first kiss, our first time. I obsessed about her full lips, her expressive brown eyes, her gorgeous smile. I could spend hours picturing every single corner of her soft delicate curves. Sometimes, I wondered if --maybe, I didn’t start fights in the hope of being sent to the hole where I could spend my time fantasizing about her. It was pure torture, but I couldn’t help myself. The memories I had of her, of us and our short time together were the only light in my otherwise bleak life.

She still wrote me every week but I hadn’t open any single one of her letters. I didn’t want to know if she was moving on with her life or worst if she was waiting for me. Because that was what Lexie didn’t understand. Even if nothing happened and I was released in one year, I would never be that boy again. The Drake Walker she had known and loved was dead and she wasn’t going to like the man that had been left in his place. I was damn sure about that.

Tagging:

@mskaneko

@burnsoslow

@kingliam2019

@kat-tia801

@petiteboheme

@tinkie1973

@twinkle-320

@thegreentwin

@forallthatitsworth

@marshmallowsandfire

@marshmallowsaremyfavorite

@princessleac1

@lilacsandwhiskey

@lovingchoices14

@nomadics-stuff

#tw child neglect #tw child abandonment #tw children #tw child labor #axwalker writes #drake walker #drake walker fanfic #drake x mc #drake x lexie #trr fanfic #trr au fanfic

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sailtoafarawayland · 3 years

Text

You’ve Always Been Home

(An Omegaverse High School AU)

Summary: Her entire life spent in the system, Emma has never had much support, so when things change in a way she never expected, she finds herself depending on a complete stranger to help her through it. Killian Jones hasn’t had it easy, and while most guys his age are enjoying their carefree years, he has a path he’s desperate to stay on. How will things change when he collides with someone he never saw coming?

Rating: M (see tags on AO3)

AO3 - FF

Chapter 1

Killian shoved his locker closed, nearly catching his hand as he rushed to jam his books inside and grab his bag from the hook. He was running late, and he'd have to change at work if he was going to make his shift on time. He hated that he was still required to come back to finish his English requirement on-site, that they wouldn't just let him take the summer course at the college. It felt like a waste of time, and certainly didn't give him the flexibility he would have liked to find work in town – not that the pizza parlor was bad, he appreciated he had the job at all, but it would have been nice to try to find something in his field.

He tried to remind himself that even though it didn't make sense, there was nothing to be done about it. He hadn't worked himself to the point of exhaustion for the past four years just to forgo getting his diploma because he was sore about having to attend a high school English class first thing in the morning. Liam had given up so much to keep him on the right path – he wasn't about to let something so petty ruin it.

He hurried toward the back of the building where the pool and locker rooms were housed, a pair of heavy, glass doors leading toward the track and basketball courts. It was faster to cut across the track and behind the insurance dealer to get to work, saving himself the five minutes he would need to get changed into his polo.

Just as he was opening the door, the sound of pounding footsteps caught his attention and he turned just in time to see a wisp of a girl, blonde hair streaming behind her, come barreling past him, her face streaked with tears.

She flew across the asphalt and took off toward the bleachers that lined the track. Something about her was familiar, and he was trying to pin it down when it hit him – the unmistakable scent of an omega entering heat.

Bloody hell.

His fingers curled around the straps of his back pack, jaw tightening as he shoved down that natural instinct to inhale deeply, to suss out each note of her unique scent.

It wasn't uncommon for a new omega or alpha to enter their first cycle at school – it was the prime age range, and spending eight hours a day someplace, it was bound to happen – but there were rules for this already in place. Everyone was aware of them. Why hadn't she reported to the nurse? Why run out the back of the building where it was empty until after school practices, and most definitely not safe for an unmated omega.

Unless something had already happened, something that made her run...

Another surge of instincts burned beneath his skin, both at the scent of her still lingering in the air and the thought that someone may have tried to force themselves on a new omega. He growled low in his chest and changed directions, heading toward the towering bleachers that stood against the old building they used for home game announcements.

He would have to hope his boss forgave him for being late. While his father had been far from an example of an honorable man, Liam had taught him what it was to have good form, and he couldn't simply leave the frightened omega, not until he's made certain she was alright.

He found her easily enough, her pheromones blooming in the air around him. She was tucked away beneath the bleachers, her knees drawn against her body and her head tucked into their peak, the sound of her tears betraying her as she tried to calm herself down.

The air beneath the bleachers was stifling, and her scent hung heavily around her, filling the crowded space. It was enough to rouse his alpha nature – he couldn't deny that – but even being so close to her, it was the need to protect that reared above the desire for anything else.

This was an omega in distress.

He kept his distance, merely ducking his head so her could peer beneath the bleachers and see her more clearly. He wasn't surprised she sought out the shelter of the small, covered space beneath the bleachers – omegas tended to crave that security during their heat, and could often be very defensive of it. Her blonde waves hung in a curtain over her shoulders, the deep frown of her scrunched up brow just visible behind the scuffed knees of her jeans as she curled in on herself. Her sneakers were worn, the tips of them peeling open against the cold gravel. That sense of familiarity stirred in his gut once again, but she didn't seem old enough to be a senior, and most of the underclassmen took their classes in separate wings of the building. To be honest, it had been some time since he'd paid much attention to anything other than his schooling – pretty omegas included. With how everything had changed in the past year, the thought of dating hadn't crossed his mind, his hours filled with working to pay for both his own upkeep and the classes he was enrolled in.

“Are you alright, love?” he called out softly.

She hadn't yet noticed him in her state of distress, and he didn't want to frighten her further. He focused on softening his stance, bowing his shoulders and letting his voice fall into a soft rumble that omegas often found pleasing. Despite being a gentleman, there was nothing he could do about the pheromones and increased musk his body was creating in response to hers. It wasn't normally something he had trouble with in the past, had never reacted to an omega in this way. Perhaps it was something about her flight past him that had triggered such a primal response, his desire to protect her in overdrive.

“Stay back,” she hissed, scrambling further against the gravel until her head was pressed against the bottom of a metal row, suddenly looking far less like a frightened omega and more of a fierce, wild thing that had been cornered. Her glare was impressive for staring down an alpha – she was a tough lass. He wondered if she could smell him, if she was even aware yet of what his body was telling her – I'm alpha, I can take care of you, I'm safe – or if her heightened sense of smell hadn't yet kicked in.

Her glare didn't waver, and he found himself entranced by the color of her eyes – beautiful and brilliant and standing out all the more for the redness surrounding them. His gut clenched and he once again had to push down the bristling need to turn and defend her chosen space, digging his fingers painfully into his palm until it settled. That would only frighten her more.

“I'm not going to come any closer, lass, I promise,” he reassured her, his words low and rhythmic, nearing a purr in his chest – all of it an instinctual response he couldn't have stemmed even if he wanted to, but she seemed to respond, some of the tension falling from her shoulders as she eyed him suspiciously. “You ran past me back there and I just...I just wanted to make sure no one had caused you to run out here in your...state.”

She raised her chin defiantly, and that same feeling of familiarity washed over him again, something about the tight set of her lips and the hardness in her eyes – and then the memory finally found him. She'd been there the day he got the news, the day he'd been called to the principal's office and told that Liam had...that he was gone. She'd been sitting in one of the chairs in the waiting room when he'd left, his eyes flickering to her almost unseeingly as he walked in a fog to collect his things, that same defiant tilt to her chin – like it was her against the world.

“No, it's nothing like that,” she muttered. “I'm fine, I just...I can't go back in there. I'm having – I think I'm...”

“Aye, I can smell you,” he agreed, “but you should head in to the nurse. I can escort you If you'd like. She'll give you all of the information you'll need, and they'll have a beta from the staff escort you home so you can ride it out somewhere safe.”

“I can't,” she whispered, the defiance in her breaking at the admission. “I can't go back to that place, not like this. The man who's there now...I just can't. I don't know what he'll do.”

It didn't escape him that she never once said the words home or father, and he suddenly remembered something else he'd heard about the new girl who'd arrived halfway through the year, the whispers that had traveled the halls as if the labels were something she even had control over – foster kid, orphan, unwanted. Understanding and a need to soothe her tightened his chest and he dropped his gaze, hand digging against the rough edge of the bleacher as he physically restrained himself from moving closer after he'd promised he wouldn't.

He'd been lucky enough to have Liam for a time after their father had abandoned them, but she had no one, and not even, apparently, a safe place to go through her heat. Instead of heeding the urge to scoop her into his arms and make certain she was physically safe, he crouched down at the edge of the gravel, the distance between them no less, but his eyes meeting her on her own level.

“I know what that's like – to not have a safe place,” he said, offering words instead of physical comfort. “I lost my mum a long time ago, and then when things became too difficult for my father, he fucked off, so I understand. I can help you, do you trust me?”

He extended a hand towards her, hoping she would take it, that she would allow him to be someone she could depend on, even if it was only this one time. He watched as she studied him carefully, but then the anger fell from her eyes, leaving only fear and exhaustion. She nodded, easing herself free of her tight hideaway and crawling toward him, her hand warm and perfect in his palm for only the briefest of moments before he had pulled her to her feet and took several steps back, gripping the straps of his bag as if they were a life preserver.

“Follow me, love, and I'll take you someplace safe until you can go home.”

She just nodded, seeming relieved to have been offered a way out of her situation, following him easily across the track and through the field that ran behind the businesses closest to the school.

“Where are we going?” she finally asked as they wound through the familiar streets of town.

“My place,” he replied cautiously. He'd known she would ask sooner or later, the question eventually having to rise through the fog of all the other things her body was focused on.

Her footsteps stilled beside him and he stopped, turning to face her. It was as if she's suddenly caught his scent for the first time, her nature split between running and swaying into him. Her brain telling her that following an alpha to his home while she was in heat wasn't safe, while her body was promising that that was exactly what she needed, that it was exactly where she would be safe.

“Please, don't worry,” he sighed, never looking away from where her green eyes were boring into him. “I promise you'll be safe there, and I – ”

“I'm not,” she cut him off, seeming to have made up her mind, “worried, that is. I don't really know why, but I trust you. I can tell you're not lying.”

“I have to go to work,” he finished, wanting her to know that before she came with him, “ so I won't be there. It's not much space, but it's private. You'll be safe. No one will bother you, and you can stay until you feel ready to go home. Do you...is there anyone there who can help you?”

“It's not home,” she sighed, perhaps understand that he knew, “but the woman who runs the house for the second shift will get there at four. That's when he leaves until the next morning. Once he's gone, I should be okay to go back. The woman is...she's fine.”

“Well, you're welcome to stay at mine as long as you need.”

“No one else lives with you, or is going to mind that you're bringing home a stray omega?” she whispered, the way her own title left her lips – like she hated herself – making him want to wrap her in his and reassure her.

In a way, he understood. She was terrified, and that fear was tainting everything – but hadn't anyone ever explained to her what it was to be an omega, or an alpha, what it was like to fit so perfectly with someone else that – he stopped that thought quickly. She was a young, untried omega, and her life was difficult enough without alphas throwing themselves at her. Being in the system, he knew it was entirely possible that part of her upbringing had been overlooked, that no one had ever thought to explain what being an omega was – and if that was the case, it was no wonder she was resentful and angry.

“There's no one else,” he assured her, biting back the sense of loss that never really strayed far from him. “I lost my brother last year, and he was the only family I had left.”

She'd found her step beside him as they entered the town proper, and her eyes seemed to carve into him after he spoke those words, looking through the haze of her heat with clarity at who he was and the importance of what he was sharing with her.

“Here we are,” he motioned, glad to have something else to say that would distract from the thoughts of Liam. His fingers rose to scratch his ear as he paused in front of a nondescript stoop with a sign hanging over the door that read 'guests only' in fading script.

“Is this Granny's?” she asked, leaning around him to catch a glimpse of the face of the building that everyone in town recognized.

“Aye, she doesn't advertise, but she has a few rooms upstairs that she rents, and she's been kind enough to allow me to stay on after – come on, let's get you inside and then you'll have some privacy.”

He could smell her need to find a safe place, the anxiety blooming alongside the rest of her pheromones as they'd walked through town, and the alpha in him was eager to provide.

She followed him through the entrance and up a narrow set of stairs that opened into a hallway, shadowing his steps as he moved confidently toward a homey, wood door near the end of the hall. He wrested his keys from his pocket and unlocked it.

“Make yourself at home,” he said, swinging the door inward and gesturing, “and...don't be afraid to use the bed if you need to...you know.”

A flush spread across her cheeks as she nodded, knowing he was probably referring to a few different things. Either way, he was certain she hadn't anticipated ever having this conversation with a complete stranger. He watched as she leaned into the doorway, her hair dropping across her neck as she did and stirring the scent rising from her gland. His jaw tightened and he couldn't help but focus on the way she took a tentative step into his home, chin tilted up as she sniffed the air that smelled so strongly of him. Contentment rolled through him as her steps became more eager and she moved fully into his apartment, staring toward the opposite end where the door to his bedroom stood open. The scent of his musk was stronger there – it wasn't as if he had all the time in the world to wash his sheets – but she seemed to find it pleasing, her movements becoming more languid as she inhaled deeply.

“Thank you,” she murmured, letting her backpack slip down her arm and drop on the floor, taking a few steps back to him. “I don't even know your name.”

“Killian Jones,” he smiled, hoping his voice was steady, his body trembling inwardly at the sight of her in his private space, content and displaying no signs of the fear that had plagued her since she first ran by him.

Her lips echoed his smile, a brightness suffusing her cheeks that he hadn't seen before, but knew he wanted to see again and again.

“Emma Swan,” she murmured, her tone dropping – and he needed to leave. She wasn't aware of it yet, but he recognized the way her mood was shifting, her body responding to being in a room that smelled so thoroughly of alpha. The warm blush across her cheeks deepened, her pupils widening and nostrils flaring as she breathed in his scent.

He took a step back.

“Well, as I said, Swan – make yourself at home. I won't be back until after five, so you'll have the place to yourself, and you're welcome to it for as long as you need it. I work the same shift in town every day, and I still have English to attend in the morning, so...the place is yours.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, his words drawing lucidity from her once again, her arms wrapping around her chest and brow furrowing.

“Your cycle will probably last around a week – it varies with the first, but you won't be able to return to school grounds until it's done, and if you need a safe place during the day, you'll have it here.”

“What am I going to do about school?” she rushed, panic rising in her voice as she pushed her palms down her arms, stepping instinctively back into his apartment as her nature urged her to seek comfort in the place that appealed most to her – the room that smelled of alpha. “I can't just disappear, Killian – they'll notify the group home and they'll make me leave, they'll send me to some other state, again. I can't do it anymore, I don't want to.”

Killian strode into his apartment, his restraint buckling just enough that he allowed himself to place his hand against her shoulder, fingers stroking her gently as his scent glands released a fresh wave of pheromones in response to her elevated panic – her face calmed, her breathing returning to normal as she watched him, leaning slightly into the warmth he was radiating.

“I'll take care of it – a note from your house parent to the nurse should do, no?”

“I guess so,” she breathed, her shoulders visibly relaxing.

“Then I'll write something and drop it off at the office in the morning. At least you'll only have one unexplained absence and not a week – and it will be obvious it wasn't you who wrote it. Sound reasonable?”

“Yeah, thanks, Killian – really, for everything. No one has ever...thank you.”

“You're welcome, Swan,” he murmured, his fingers tightening on her shoulder as the scent of her in his home seemed to rob him of what little sense he'd been able to cling to. He released her as gently as he could and retreated quickly into the hall. “I have to go.”

He was already pulling the door closed as she nodded her understanding, needing something solid between them. Her footsteps moved farther from the door as he dragged in a shuddering breath and took off, hoping his boss would take whatever flimsy excuse he could come up with.

He was late enough that Nemo shot him a stern look when he arrived, reminding him that there were plenty of other students able to get to their shifts on time. Killian nodded and apologized, citing a bad reaction to an issue at the school, and thankfully it was dropped. He changed into his polo in the bathroom and hurried back out front to join Will, the ebb of people coming and going slow this time of day.

“Oi,” Will blurted, wrinkling his face dramatically and pulling back from Killian, “you bloody well stink, mate. Thought ya was'n on the schedule till next week.”

“I'm not,” Killian snapped, his temper flaring now that he was no longer overcome with the need to be a calm, soothing presence, the alpha in him left feeling riled and frustrated that he'd abandoned the omega who had been coming into her heat and in need. “And I don't want to bloody talk about it, so shut up and take the orders – I'll make the pies.”

The glaring heat from the pizza oven did little to soothe his temper, but it was a good excuse for the burning flush he couldn't shake and the sweat that collected beneath his visor. He had no idea what would await him when he went home after his shift, but he knew regardless of whether or not the feisty omega was gone, he was in for a rough week.

Tagging: @justanother-unluckysoul @kmom0f4 @the-darkdragonfly @teamhook @zaharadessert @xarandomdreamx @jrob64 @wefoundloveunderthelight @tiganasummertree @pirateprincessofpizza @lfh1226-linda @alexa-fangirl-forever @alifeofdreams @superchocovian @donteattheappleshook @hollyethecurious @caught-in-the-filter @snowbellewells @itsfabianadocarmo @stahlop @karlyfr13s @elizabeethan @rkrbirdgirl

If you would like to be added/removed from my tag list, let me know. Keep in mind I maintain one list for all updates.

#Captain Swan #CS fic #cs fanfic #cs au #omegaverse #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #sailtoafarawayland #high school au

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gaawachan · 3 years

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Discord Convo: Yasha, Essek, Culture, Shadowgast Ramblings

Me: Man I wish Essek and Yasha could have - nvm I'll finish that thought later.

Sibling: I KNOW. I ALREADY KNOW WHAT YOU'RE GOING TO SAY AND I WISH YASHA HAD BEEN MORE PRESENT IN THE STORY

Me: Stop doing the hive mind thing. it's invasive. i feel violated.

Sibling: I can't help it.

Me: But yeah Essek and Yasha. I find it very interesting because there's actually a lot of crossover in their temperaments, but in terms of physical presentation, they couldn't be more different. They both came from completely different sub-cultures in Xhorhas, and it's like... that temperament among the Rosohna Drow. It makes me think that they learned how to like... Okay hang on this is hard to put into words... Right so from a meta perspective, it reads like Matt took Yasha's basic temperament and applied it to other people of Xhorhas. Like Yasha was a broader expression of typical mannerisms of Xhorhas (except that Yasha was no longer bound by the modesty of the cultures there, and having been exposed to Molly, was freer with her sexuality after it was stifled in the Wastes in her youth). Right? So with that thought in mind, look at Essek. Essek doesn't have the same trauma Yasha has so he doesn't have the same sort of dysfunctions, but when you first meet Yasha, she does display a casual arrogance/confidence about her power, and Essek has the temperament, but what he lacks is the freedom from modesty. He's extremely withdrawn.

Sibling: Are you saying he's going to become an e-boy? Because there's no promises that under that cloak, he isn't already one lmaoooo

Me: Well, I think it's interesting because this is actually one underrated area where I think Caleb would actually be really good for him and vice versa. It also says a lot about the odd intersections of culture in Xhorhas, because in old drow society, sex was uh... you know, let's not go into that.

Sibling: Just all of the nasty tags from AO3

Me: but my point is that it makes sense that the Kryn dynasty would be heavily influenced by and adopt a lot of the mannerisms and cultural relations from the people of Xhorhas because... they would be trying to distance themselves from the violence of their past by integrating stuff from the cultures they colonized. It makes sense that maybe the nomads of the wastes would impact their mannerisms and dynamics, though you can see echos of old drow culture in the dynasty, of course, with the dens and all.

Sibling: They're doing what the pirates from Wind Waker did once they found New Hyrule lol. "Yes, oh yes. We love technology"

Me: Yeah. So anyway, Yasha and Essek would have been interesting to have more interactions with.

Sibling: I mean, both are good characters? They just didn't have a lot of screentime, and it didn't really seem like Ashley was super interested in exploring her past. It doesn't help that Yasha was essentially silent for all major character interactions lol.

Me: They are both socially awkward, with casual confidence in their skills, and somewhat similar mannerisms, but Essek is very modest but manipulative, and Yasha is very upfront/blunt, and both of them have the guilt thing going on. Going back to Essek and Caleb. I think that their immediate positive effects on each other are obvious, but on this topic specifically... Caleb's only ever hesitant with his affection because of his trauma, really. You get the distinct impression that he used to be a lot more touchy feely (just look at his early game dynamic with Nott), and while he is usually very polite, he has no problem with being blunt about his sexuality when he thinks he can get away with it. At the same time, Caleb's history with sex and relationships is really twisted and complicated, so he needs a partner who is respectful of boundaries and willing to check what is going on at any given time. In other words, he needs someone who is not like Molly (no offense to widomauk shippers).

Sibling: I mean, that was the primary problem with Molly. They had no sense of boundaries and that was good for someone like Yasha. Not so much for people with trauma related to lack of boundaries.

Me: (text dump) No, Molly DID have a sense of boundaries; they deliberately crossed them in order to make people uncomfortable. THAT was my biggest problem with Molly. Molly knew exactly what they were doing. Taliesin said as much. It's why I never shipped widomauk, because it’s yet another relationship where casual disregard for Caleb's comfort is present. It's why if I had shipped Caleb with anyone other than Essek, it would have been Fjord or Caduceus (but he's a disinterested ace and I respect that) or Yasha (but she's gay and I respect that) simply because they were clearly the ones who appeared most cognizant of Caleb's social comfort levels and such (so basically widofjord is what I'm saying, lol). This isn’t a widomauk hate thing; it’s just not to my taste because I relate too much to hating having my personal boundaries deliberately treated with disrespect. That's going off on a tangent, though.

Essek, in contrast, needs someone who he can let his hair down with comfortably. Essek seems to only really feel that way around Caleb and Jester. Caleb's the only one Essek really initiates touch with. Caleb's the one who gets Essek to swear for the first time, like Caleb swearing gave Essek permission to do the same just for the hell of it. Caleb and Jester, more than the others, made it clear that he's allowed to be goofy when he's with them. The two of them joking around with Immovable Object (and Caleb openly participating in that clownery with Seeming and such when he and Essek have so much in common) makes Essek feel comfortable with exploring not having a stick up his ass 24/7, which is exactly what a clearly extremely repressed person like Essek could benefit from in a partner, a person who he can relax around and vent with, because he's very obviously never had that before, or at least not consistently. And how did he get to that point?

It's from a thing about Caleb that is extremely underrated. Caleb, be it from his natural personality or that coupled with his training, knows the value of being openly vulnerable. It's very clearly NOT something that Trent specifically taught him. Caleb recognizes that the best way to manipulate people is to be sweet and earnest and awkward and TRUTHFUL about his beliefs and vulnerabilities, but this pays off in ways unintended. Caleb expects it to just be transactional, but people end up genuinely forming bonds with him because of it, and what's more, that he does that with such regularity results in other people responding in kind (which is the goal). Someone as reserved as Essek could only stand to be vulnerable BECAUSE Caleb made HIMSELF vulnerable first. I think the best thing Liam ever did for Shadowgast was make it clear that everything he said to Essek may have been manipulative... but every word of it was also true, because Essek is clever enough to recognize that honesty.

The most underrated line in Essek's growth as a person doesn't even come from Essek, and it doesn't come from Caleb talking to Essek. I think people forget about this, but during the final conversation with the scourger, which Essek was present for... the scourger asks Caleb why he's bothering with her. And Caleb says (paraphrasing) "I think that I hoped if I could see one hint of change from you, I could believe that we aren't both damned." Imagine being Essek and hearing that. It recontextualizes everything about Essek's growth. The rapid change between the boat scene and Aeor isn't just because Essek wants to be a better person. It's because he wants to prove to Caleb that Caleb isn't damned, because no one has ever done that for Caleb. Caleb is so obviously drowning in his past during the Aeor arc. That sort of hope is something he desperately needed. It's one of the few things about the Aeor arc that isn't botched by the rush to end the series; Essek's consistent determination to be a positive influence on Caleb, for Caleb, was gold from start to finish. Remember too that by the time of the boat scene, Caleb had already met with Astrid and had that disheartening conversation. Essek's efforts to become a better person feel like he's trying to almost unknowingly undo the damage that the recent interactions with Astrid and Trent had done to Caleb's psyche.

... tldr, Caleb is going to teach Essek how to be a manslut... in private... jk but not really.

Sibling: I SAID THAT EBOY ESSEK LOL! Ugh... that final epilogue screwing over my favorite MLM ship... It's not canon. They went and made their own school, and lived forever in disguises to keep the scourgers coming after them.

*That was the end of this part of the conversation. On reflection, I ought to have noted that Essek’s modesty might not be so much a cultural thing as it is an “Essek trying to keep people away from him like a prickly porcupine” thing, but you never know. If it is cultural, that may be the result of the dynasty trying to distance themselves to the practices of those who worship Lolth, but I don’t know that Exandria lore has ever said anything about this? And if it is a cultural thing, is it limited to the nobility, like Essek? One could also argue that the cultural practices of Yasha’s people, with the arranged marriages and such, may have influenced the dynasty’s own cultural formation, but I feel like I didn’t make that clear enough? Anyway, that’s why it’s a ramble.

#critical role #critrole #critical role spoilers #critrole spoilers #shadowgast #essek thelyss #yasha nydoorin #caleb widogast

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bodyswapmischief · 4 years

Text

Chemical Warfare Weight Gain

As I began waking up, the only thought running through my mind was the beeping of the EKG, my arm was attached to. I laid there for a few minutes, my thoughts slowly returned to me.

I began remembering my name, my past but, I had no idea how I ended up there. (I was a soldier in my countries army), I told myself. Although I felt no pain, I feared the worst. (Did I get injured in an enemy attack), I continued thinking to myself.

With a deep breath and my growing strength, I opened my eye and, looked up at the world, around me. I was in a dimly lit hospital room, a curtain prevent me from viewing more than my immediate surroundings. I turn my attention to my body still covered by a thin blanket.

By this time I had no trouble sitting myself up. And, as I did I threw the blanket off me, revealing my hairy yet muscular body, which only wore a pair of boxer briefs. I was thrown a bit off guard but, started to rub the different parts of my body, letting the hair slide through my fingers. (Damn I must have been out for awhile), I thought while feeling the field of hair that covered most of my body. I knew my body had the potential to get really hairy, but I usually shaved on a daily basis to prevent it. Now all that constant work wasted.

My attention turned to my underwear. I looked around and waited to see if I could hear anything. And, when I thought I was safe. I took off my underwear. Again I was relieved. My 8 inch dick was still there surrounded my meaty sized balls. However, I would admit they looked smaller, as the hair on my legs and torso met at my pelvic region to create a massive bush of hair.

Looking around the room I noticed a mirror, which allowed me to see my back and ass, which were also covered in a layer of fur. (Damn, I going have to fix this), I thought to myself.

As I sat there becoming acquainted with my hairy body, something odd popped in my head. (This hair on my body had to take at least a month to grow out. So, I was on this bed for awhile. But, there wasn't an IV placed on me. No, feeding tube. I don't remember waking up to feed myself. How did I survive without food and water.), I started to question the situation I found myself in. But, the strangest part was that I didn't feel hungry.

With questions running through my head, I put my underwear back on and went to look for a doctor or nurse. Leaving my covered area, I finally noticed I wasn't alone. On the other side of the room, partially covered by a divider. I saw a man, also, on a ER bed. Unlike me he was very fat. His belly was exposed as his blanket was on the floor.

As, I got closer to him, I noticed he was completely naked. Ripped pieces of underwear were buried under his fat ass. He was also hairy, but not as hairy as me. His big beefy legs and puffed out fat pad made his dick look small. But, It wasn't like he could have seen it over the mountain that was his stomach. His chest looked somewhat muscular, but now an equal layer of fat made his pecs look more like boobs. Seeing his face, something seemed familiar but, I couldn't make it out. Even through the double chin and fat checks, I felt like I've seen this face, before. (But this guy must be close to 300lbs, I would remember someone this big), I thought to myself.

Feeling embarrassed for him, that his fat naked body was on full display. I picked up the blanket and covered him. His fat stomach even more pronounced with the thin fabric clinging to it. Unable to resist the urge, I patted his stomach, "there ya go big guy." I was shocked as he began to move. His eyes struggling to open. He softly moaned, trying to tell me something. But with the breathing tube in his mouth and the fact he was half conscious, he wasn't understandable. I looked around and also noticed no IV, was placed in him. "Don't worry buddy, I'll go get us some help and answers." I left as his eyes began to close again.

I continued walking and every room I past had the same sight. Big fat men, of different sizes, laying on hospital beds. Not one of them hooked up to machines, other than heart monitors and some had breathing tubes . I reached the elevator and pushed the button. Nothing happened. I started to panic and moved quickly to the stairwell. The doors that lead out were locked. I started yelling for someone ... anyone, as I continued walking the empty halls.

I found my way into a big room, with the biggest guy on the floor here. He must have been 600 pounds. There was no way this man was able to move as his body was nothing more than a giant bean bag of fat. No curves ... just a blob of fat. His file sat on a nearby desk.

"Officer Ryan Lakewood" the file read. I paused for awhile, but suddenly a wave of recognition rushed my brain. I knew that name. Lakewood was one of the more well known guys in the troop. He was massive with muscle; easily the strongest guy. I remained in shock as I walked towards the fat man's face, "It couldn't be" I told myself. But, as I looked at the man's face ... It was him. Underneath all the fat that filled his once chiseled face, I could see him; the man he used to be.

How did that happen. He did eat a lot, but all of that went to fueling his massive muscles. Before, I could think anymore the heart monitor he was attached to flatlined. Panicked, I started to do chest compressions. But, it wasn't long before doctors and nurses, covered up in protective gear, rushed in. They grabbed me and in my panicked state, I started to fight back. But, I was no match as I felt a syringe being stabbed into my skin. As the drowsiness set in, I heard the doctors say "He's gone, the last one over 400lbs ... at least the others still seem to be in stable condition."

I woke up tied to a chair in an empty room. I looked up to see two doctors in front of me. "Hello Liam."

"What the fuck is going on." I yelled.

They explained everything to me. Our enemy secretly broke into our base and unleashed a gas attack. However this gas attack was a new chemical warfare weapon. Once inhaled it latched on to any food in the stomach. The calories release from the food became a deadly ridiculous amount. But death was prevent by the second affect of the gas. It speed up the fat production process and allowed the skin to become more elastic, allowing the infected to safely grow fatter. Even then those who gained an insane amount of weight had other complications, and were deemed very likely to die. Most of these men were 400lbs or more.

However, the worst part is that the men stayed affected by the gas. Meaning if they ate anything, another massive weight gain would happen. The only positive was these men never had to drink or eat anything ever again.

Our base was the first and two more came after. The doctors feared more attacks. So, they started looking for a way to negate or reverse the affects. But, they weren't able to see how the gas worked first hand. They could have given a man something to eat. But all the men were too big. Giving these men anymore to eat would have been a death sentence. All the men where to big ... except me.

My stomach was completely empty when the gas attack happened. The doctors proceeded to tell me that I was their best choice to help save 100s if not 1000s of my brothers. So, I agreed. In a short time, numerous machines were attached to me. When all of it was done, they brought out a small salad

I put one piece of lettuce in my mouth and the flavor was amazing. It was the best thing I ever ate. All this time, I didn't feel hungry, but now I was starving. I ignored the fork and started shoveling food into my mouth, with my hands. Over the euphoria of the sensations happening in my mouth, I could here the doctors outside the room, yelling to stop. But, I couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop. By the time they came in the room, I was done. But, I was still hungry. I felt my body tingle but, it only made me hungry. I tried to run past the doctors but they stopped me and knocked me out with another dose of tranquilizers.

When I came to, I felt myself laying on a hospital bed again. I was no longer hungry, but I felt heavy. I slowly opened my eyes to face the truth. I looked down to see a hill of fat where my abs once were. I uncover myself and started to examine my new fat body. I sat up and looked into the mirror placed by my bed, as I continued to feel different parts of my body.

My face now had chubby checks and small a double chin, hidden behind my new beard. My stomach jutted out, covered in fur. I used my hands to push it in and felt no signs of the abs that once graced the area. Instead of hard muscular pecs, sitting on my chest were hairy soft breast. I reluctantly touch my new man boobs. It felt weird. As, I touch them I notice how they and my new belly jiggled with every movement. I looked at my, once slender, thighs; they were big, juicy, and also covered in hair. I tried to suck in my stomach but couldn't. It was like my body wasn't use to sucking it in, a muscle I would have to work on.

So, I used my hands to adjust my stomach so I could get a good view of my dick. All this jiggling, reluctantly made my dick hard. Surrounded by fat and a bush of pelvic hair, it didn't even look 8 inches any more. I was lucky if it past of as a 4 incher. I stood up and looked in the mirror. This was my new body ... I couldn't believe one small salad did this.

Over the course of the next few days, doctors came in talk to me. The data they received from me was helpful but, they would need more cases like mine to get enough data. They continued working on a cure but without that additional data they keep running into problems. And that data would never come because, the gas attacks stopped. Many of the world countries secretly got together to stop the country responsible. The use of that gas was a war crime. And, all information was kept secret from the public.

In total I gained 60lbss from eating one salad, going from my fit 186lbs to a fat 249lbs. The rest of the survivors and I were gathered and were given a debriefing. I look around and was a little happy to see I was still one of the thinner guys there. But, you could tell we were all bummed out about our new bodies. We were told to never eat anything again, unless we wanted to die. They explain that as long as we didn't eat anything we wouldn't feel hungry. But, once food entered our mouths we would be insatiable unless we were isolated from all food for a couple of hours.

They also told us the weight gain was permanent no amount of exercise would lead to weight loss, but it would still help the muscle we loss from spending months at the hospital, being inactive.

Many of the bigger guys were forced out of the army. The, still very fat, thinner guys were given a choice to leave. I stupidly agreed to continue serving my country. I didn't realize being overweight, the best way to serve my country was patrolling the streets like some glorified security guard.

Now, I'm constantly mocked by civilians and other soldiers who know nothing about what really happened. I get teased with food and called pig. I had a few close calls where people threw food at my face. Luckily none landed in my mouth. The hardest part is never eating again. It's not that I'm hungry, it more like a habits. Imagine doing the same thing for 26 years of your life and now you can't do it anymore. I miss eating, I just want to be normal again. But, the urge to stay alive is stronger. If I give in, the inner pig would be unleashed, eating every in sight and killing me in the process.

#body #male #swap #transformation #stories #tf #mischief #story #gain #magic weight gain #weight #weight gain

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beckydoesthings · 3 years

Text

I spend far too much time on AO3 to let it all go to waste, so here’s a collection of ABO fics that I thoroughly enjoy. These are all hxl unless specified otherwise. I tried to condense my total list into one post, but I very quickly realized it would be waaaaay too long, so I split it up.

*will continue to update this. also if i mistagged an author, i deeply apologize, i do not know how to tumblr*

sleeping on our problems

E | 67k | @falsegoodnight

I’m in love with you, Louis thinks. He feels empty, weighed down by his sadness and the loss of Harry inside him just moments ago before his knot finally went down. There’s moments where he’s sure Harry feels the same. Like now, when he’s gazing down at Louis with so much adoration and tenderness. It’s like they’re both on the cusp of something more, but neither of them ever say a word. His confession is on the tip of his tongue ready to slide out like honey, and yet he remains silent. They both do, looking at each other and recognizing the reluctance mirrored in each other’s eyes. It’s then that Louis realizes they’re both scared. - Or Louis sleeps with Harry and they have more than just catching feelings to worry about.

this is everything i’ve ever wanted in an ABO fic and i’m genuinely in love with this. i think i cried reading this lol and i’m not ashamed of it. also the smut!

A Distant Hazy Light

E | 198k | @greenfeelings

Life’s pretty ordinary for Harry. He lives with his best friend, got into university just like he’s planned, and manages to support himself just fine for an unbonded omega. If he sustains that lifestyle by getting paid to help alphas through their rut every now and then, that’s nothing to be hung up on. Until he’s hired by an alpha that turns everything upside down.

Or, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down, until he builds his own up.

this is part one of a three part ABO series that also probably made me cry at some point. chock full of angst and heartbreak with an (eventual) happy ending. also the side ziam is just *chef’s kiss*.

pray for some sweet simplicity

E | 237k | @eeveelou

Louis is the only omega to ever make it in the cut-throat world of competitive motorcycle racing—that is, he would be if anyone actually knew about his identity. Now, his sights are set towards competing in—and winning—the European Grand Prix, the biggest and most difficult race of the entire year, so he can disappear underground for good. He’s close enough, too, until an alpha sports journalist is assigned to follow Louis’s every move as he prepares for the event of his career.

Or, an AU where motorcycle racing is the biggest sport in a heavily divided world, Louis is trying to take control of his own destiny, and Harry is in for more than he bargained for.

it’s just so beautiful. their relationship development was soooo good and i adored reading this piece. i never thought i could enjoy a motorcycle racing story so much!

A Sea Without Water, A Compass Without Direction

T | 84k

”Tell me, Louis,” Captain Styles said, leaning forward a little. ”D’you think I’m an idiot?”

”I—what?” Louis asked, surprised by the blunt question. He had expected something different, something along the lines of how he learned music, or how he ended up as a prisoner on the other ship.

”Do you think I’m an idiot?” The captain repeated, putting emphasis on each word as though Louis couldn’t understand him otherwise.

”Of course not,” Louis said, shaking his head. He’d be a fool for thinking such a thing, and an even bigger fool for saying it out loud. ”Captain.”

Captain Styles nodded slowly, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands in his lap. ”Then why did you lie to me?”

”L-Lie?”

”Out on the deck. You lied to me,” he said. He held up his hand, three fingers up. ”Three lies total. I hate liars.”

i think i’ve read this like a dozen times and it’s still. so. good. probably the first pirate fic i read and i love it so much! the dynamic between them is awesome to read.

Seeing Blind

E | 46k | @that-idiot-overthere

Louis finally turns his head in Liam’s direction, knows his face is showing the longing he’s been aching with ever since it took root in his chest. “What the fuck do I do, Liam? He wouldn’t want me like that, but I want-” his voice cracks, and he turns his face back downwards. “What do you do when you’re not perfect for the person who’s perfect for you?”

OR the one where Harry’s an independent omega who likes to have his fun and Louis is the blind alpha that changes Harry’s priorities.

the smut in this fic is absolutely filthy and i love it ;). but watching the two boys be idiots in love made this fic for me.

The Space Between

E | 40k | @alltheselights

Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why.

Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.

i wanted to smack harry the entire time i was reading this, but in a cool way obviously. it’s quite fluffy but it’s got enough angst to make it suspenseful.

Face Your Fears

E | 92k | @sadaveniren

Harry is a single father, pretending to be a beta after his alpha mated him and left him. He’s getting by just fine raising the twins when Louis walks into his bakery. Too bad him and Louis will never be a thing.

this fic is a rollercoaster of emotions from beginning to end and it’s amazing to read. i’m not sure what i love more, the fact that harry’s a baker or half the plot being based around wikipedia being false.

The Compulsion to Find Love

E | 140k | @toomanydreamers

The most prestigious English third-level institution, Candling University, accepts omega students for the first time and Louis Tomlinson applies with bright eyes and brighter ambitions. There he encounters personal obstacles, traditional mindsets and a beautiful boy who inverts every prejudice Louis has ever known.

it is quite a lengthy story but totally worth it. i adore louis’ fierce determination in this!

We Both Got Nothing to Hide

E | 43k

“Talk to me, Lou.”

“I can’t,” Louis mumbled, knowing he genuinely couldn’t say it. He couldn’t admit to what he was doing. “Don’t ask me to say it, because I can’t.”

“Then… I’ll try and guess. You’ve… got some stuff of Harry’s. Something of his to make it smell like him?”

Louis just nodded, eyes fixated on the floor. This was humiliating, but he knew Zayn wouldn’t stop until he found out what was going on.

“Okay. Like… a blanket, or a comforter or something?”

“Kind of…”

Omega Louis has a secret nest. Alpha Harry keeps losing his clothes.

personal favorite because i have a soft spot for nesting. but i love the relationship between the two and it’s. so. fluffy i could melt.

lemon eyes

E | 50k

It's not proper for omegas to mess around with alphas before finding their bondmate. But Harry doesn't give a damn what's proper and fully intends on getting as much experience as he can before even trying to find one. As far as he's concerned, the right alpha won't care, and he'll have some fun on the way.

And who better to start with than Louis Tomlinson, the alpha with the worst reputation on campus?

ah yes a fic where Louis is an alpha and both are versatile?? wack. anyways, the smut in this is awesome and harry’s an idiot. what’s new?? (jkjk)

A Taste of Desire

E | 104k | @casuallyhl

“As forward as I have been with you this evening, I am also aware this dinner party isn’t the place to conduct business.” Mr. Tomlinson chuckles quietly to himself, shooting a subtle glance across the table towards their hostess. “And besides, I am sure our hostess would be horribly disappointed to learn that we went away this evening with a business agreement and not a mating one.”

Harry, who had been sipping his wine, coughs harshly at this. He splutters, unaccustomed to such blatant statements about mating.

Mr. Tomlinson continues to laugh quietly, clearly pleased at Harry’s reaction.

“Mrs. Humphreys promised that there was an alpha attending the dinner tonight that I would certainly get on well with,” Mr. Tomlinson continues, voice teasing. “She assured me that we would have much in common since we both work with mills.” Mr. Tomlinson glances at Harry, eyes flashing with mirth. “Little did she know that would be where our mutual interests began and ended.”

Or, a Victorian ABO where Harry is the owner of the most successful cotton mill in Manchester, and Louis is an opinionated social activist about to disrupt Harry’s world.

one of my favorite historical AUs! i love how strong and opinionated Louis is and how Harry comes round to follow.

Canyon Moon

E | 40k | @eeveelou

For as long as Louis has remembered, he has been promised to be mated to Harry, his best friend and the future pack alpha. But Louis’s heart belonged to the forest and to the hunt more than he could ever imagine it belonging to Harry.

Then Harry’s father dies in a violent accident, and Louis’s future alpha disappears on the wind.

An A/B/O Lion King AU

disney AUs are the shit! i’ve got a small love for werewolf fics and this is one of my favorites. love how this takes the story of lion king for a spin.

Quiet People Have the Loudest Minds

M | 38k | @2tiedships2

Broadway shows were one of the few things that could keep Louis’ attention for a full two hours without needing to move about. But not tonight.

The alpha next to him was both infuriating him and practically turning him on at the same time. He needed to leave. The alpha, that is. Louis was staying.

Or the one where Louis is a nonverbal omega who has accepted the fact that he will never find an alpha that will treat him as an equal. On the other hand, he’s never met anyone like Harry.

i love how just sappy and sweet this is, like there are just hearts pouring out of my eyes as i read this. also broadway!

*updated 2/15/21*

#fic recs #ao3 #in no particular order #abo fics #hl

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mydogisveryadorbs · 4 years

Text

blue ain't your color | jj maybank

masterlist

summary: song fic based on blue ain’t your color by keith urban.

warnings: mentions of mentally and physically abusive relationships, underage drinking, mentions of drugs, angst, fluff, v soft jj

PSA: this is not in any way meant to idealize or romanticize abusive relationships. if you or someone you know is in an abusive relationship please get help. below are some resources and learning tools.

National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1 (800) 799 – 7233

Love is Respect – National Teen Dating Abuse Hotline: 1 (866) 331 – 9474

more hot lines and info: https://victimconnect.org/resources/national-hotlines/

learn more: https://www.thehotline.org/psa/

lyrics in bold

3.8k+ words

✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰

I can see you over there

Starring at your drink

Watchin' that ice sink

All alone tonight

You look down at your drink, moving the straw in a circular motion causing the ice to swirl around creating a small tornado.

Glancing at the time on your phone, you realize you've been waiting here for almost two hours.

Your boyfriend was supposed to meet you at Topper’s party at 9. In the first thirty minutes, you weren't surprised. Liam, your kook boyfriend of 10 months, was late for almost everything, so this didn't come as a shock to you.

When the one hour mark hit you were honestly quite worried. What if he was in an accident? What if he got jumped? Maybe your thoughts were most likely irrational, but you couldn't help but worry about your boyfriend.

One hour later, you had gotten past the worrying stage. Now you were simply angry, no, furious at him. Had he stood you up? Did he forget about you? These thoughts were definitely more rational. It wouldn't be the first time Liam stood you up, but you would make sure it was the last.

At the beginning of your relationship, everything had been sunshine and butterflies. About two months in, however, he asked you to stop seeing your friends.

You see you were a born and raised pogue. Your dad was a close friend of Big John so you had practically grown up with John B, JJ, and Pope, in more recent years becoming close friends with Kiara.

At first, it was little things. Liam would get upset if you left to hang out with the pogues instead of him. Then one day, he asked you to stop seeing them all together. You, of course, retaliated, telling him that you would never leave your friends. But Liam had a way with words, and not a good way. He told you for months that your friends would never love you and that you were lucky that he had even taken pity on you. Slowly, you started to believe him. You stopped seeing the pogues, pushing everyone who truly loved you out of your life.

Liam became more and more distant as the months went on. He would leave you almost every night to drink and party, not even bothering to let you know where he was headed. The two of you had been fighting nonstop for several weeks. It had gotten physical only a few times and the next morning he would apologize profusely, so you stayed.

Seeing him walk in with two girls wrapped around his waist, nearly two and a half hours late, was the last straw for you.

Grabbing your purse, you walked up to Liam, who's eyes widened with the realization the moment he saw you.

“Fuck, (Y/N),” he says, slightly slurring his words as his arms still holding the two skinny blondes at his sides, “It's not what it looks like.” You can see his red-rimmed eyes and dilated pupils, telling you that he was coked out.

You roll your eyes, knowing that this was it for you. “Really, Liam,” you snap back, “‘Cause it looks like we are done here.”

Liam’s eyes widen in shock, never having seen you lash out like this before. He shakes it off and his expression quickly contorts into one of disgust. “Okay,” he says with a shrug, “Good luck finding someone else to take pity on a whore like you, dirty pogue.” He walks away with the two girls, leaving you in shock.

It takes a moment for you to realize that you had just ended this almost one-year relationship.

The first emotion you feel is one of freedom and relief. No more would you have to be held down by this weight of not being able to do and say what you want.

That feeling slowly dissipates as the feeling of dread starts to overcome it. You had pushed away all of your friends for this boy who had let you go like you were nothing to him. Maybe you were nothing.

You walk back to the bar area, grabbing another drink, feeling the need to drown away your sorrows.

And chances are

You're sittin' here in this bar

'Cause he ain't gonna treat you right

JJ Maybank hated kook parties with a passion.

Thankfully he hadn't had the opportunity to attend too many of them in his lifetime. But now that John B was macking on Sarah Cameron, it wasn't uncommon for the blonde boy to get dragged along to one of these events.

John B had left JJ to fend for himself as soon as they had arrived at the party, slipping off somewhere to find Sarah. JJ looked around the extravagant home that belonged to one of his enemies, Topper Thornton. His ring clad fingers fiddled with an expensive-looking vase, trying to find the perfect moment to snag it and slip away.

JJ’s eyes filtered through the crowd when they landed on something, or rather someone, that he had least expected to see.

His hand slipped from the vase, letting his gaze drink you in. You definitely looked different. Your once long hair was now cut just below your shoulders and your typical style of denim shorts and a cropped shirt was exchanged for a lavish-looking dress and sparkly stilettos.

JJ admits that he probably wouldn't have recognized you if he hadn't spent so many years unable to take his eyes off of you whenever the pogues were together.

The boy had loved his life long best friend since the day she clocked a boy in the face for making fun of JJ’s worn-out clothes. They were seven. In addition to being the day JJ had met (Y/N) and John B, it was also the day he fell in love with the (Y/E/C) eyed girl.

When you started dating your kook boyfriend at the beginning of your junior year, JJ was initially devastated. He soon brought himself to realize, however, that a lowlife like him would never be able to deserve someone as beautiful and kind-hearted as you. His thoughts were confirmed when you abruptly stopped hanging around the pogues and him. You were too good for him. The blonde boy had no idea of the pain that Liam had caused you in the past ten months.

Now looking at you, JJ could see that you were upset. He had gotten really good at analyzing your body language over the many years of being your best friend.

All thoughts of stealing the vase flew out of his mind as his feet started in your direction.

Well, it's probably not my place

But I'm gonna say it anyway

'Cause you look like

You haven't felt the fire

Had a little fun

Hadn't had a smile in a little while

You felt a figure move to sit in the bar stool chair next to you, but you choose to ignore whoever it is, not particularly feeling up to socializing with a contemptuous kook after what you just went through.

The figure didn't move after a few minutes so you turn to look at them with a glare in your eyes, ready to snap at them and ask them to leave you alone. Your gaze immediately softens as you realize the person next to you is in fact the last person you would ever expect to see at a party like this, JJ Maybank.

Tears begin to prick at your eyes as you continue to stare at the side profile of the blonde boy who hasn't yet turned to face you.

Everything you had done so well to hide over the last ten years of knowing and loving him comes rushing back. Your love for the boy next to you consumes every fiber of your being.

A lone tear falls down your cheek as you begin to curse yourself and Liam. How did I let him control me into giving this up? This feeling?

Blue looks good on the sky

Looks good on that neon buzzin' on the wall

But darling, it don't match your eyes

JJ finally turns his head to look at you and feels his entire resolve crumble. You were crying. The sight nearly breaks his heart in two.

His eyes lock with yours and he can see the pain and heartache swirling within them.

“What did he do to you,” JJ mutters, letting his eyes roam the crowd for the boy he despises most in the world. Almost a year of suppressed anger starts to bubble up to the surface.

“JJ,” you whimper.

The sadness and hopelessness in your voice makes every ounce of anger in him evaporate as he turns his head to look at you again. The look in your eyes tells him that the kook boy had hurt you worse than he ever knew.

JJ wants nothing more than to pull you into his arms and never let anything else in the world harm you. His hands itch to wipe the tears off your face and pull your head to his chest.

However, JJ also wants you to be as comfortable as possible and he's not sure if you're ready for the amount of love he has to give you just yet.

You surprise the blonde boy by reaching out to your arms out to him. The blonde wastes no time in standing up and pulling your body flush to his chest.

Everyone else in the world disappears as the two of you clutch each other with all you have. Both of you realize how much you had missed the comfort of each other's embrace.

You're not sure how long you stand there like that, face nuzzled into JJ’s shoulder as the boy strokes your hair comfortingly.

“I'm sorry,” you mumble into his shirt, not willing to pull away from the warmth he radiates.

JJ’s eyebrows draw together in confusion as he pulls away enough to look down at you. “What do you mean,” he asks with a softness in his voice that is reserved for you only, gently lifting your chin so that you are looking into his beautiful cerulean eyes.

You sniffle. “I'm sorry for leaving you. I'm sorry for breaking down in front of you. I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess. But most of all, I'm sorry for ever believing that I could live without you. I-I mean if it weren't for you I don't know what I would do. I understand if you don't want to talk to-” your ramble is suddenly cut off by JJ pressing his lips to yours.

The boy knows that this is probably not the best time to confess his feelings towards you, but he can't watch you talk down about yourself like that anymore. Do you not know how much he adores you?

The kiss is soft and passionate. JJ can taste your salty tears on his slightly chapped lips as they work against yours. Both of you poor every ounce of emotion you have into the kiss.

JJ reluctantly pulls away when the two of you run out of air, placing his forehead delicately on yours as your arms wrap around his neck.

I'm tellin' you

You don't need that guy

It's so black and white

He's stealin' your thunder

Baby, blue ain't your color

Both of you pant as you look into each other's eyes. “I've wanted to do that for so long,” JJ says, as the smile you cherish so much graces his features.

“Really?” you ask and JJ can hear the vulnerability in your voice. What did that shithead do to you to make you so insecure?

“You have no idea, baby,” he says, tenderly kissing away the tear that has slipped out of your eye and onto your cheek.

Not having the words to express how you feel about the boy in front of you, you pull his head back down, kissing him so sweetly that it makes his knees buckle.

“JJ,” you whisper as you pull away, but you never get to finish your statement because you are suddenly ripped out of his embrace.

“You fucking whore,” Liam seethes at you taking a stride towards you and you instinctively take a step back. “You break up with me and two minutes later you've moved onto another guy. Slut.” His words cut you deep and you know by the tone of his voice that a punch to the gut or a slap to the face is coming. Liam raises his hand and you brace yourself for impact, but it never comes.

The sound of yelling fills your senses and you open your eyes to see JJ punching Liam in the face repeatedly. You are frozen as you watch the scene in front of you.

“JJ,” you hear John B yell, turning to look at him, “You're gonna kill him.”

Your eyes widen in realization at his words and you take a step forward.

“JJ,” you call, but your voice is drowned out by the sound of everyone yelling around you. You clear your throat and try again, louder. “JJ.”

This time JJ stops mid punch, turning to look at you. Fear fills your body when you see that his wide, normally baby blue eyes are nearly black.

His gaze softens as he takes in your anxious look.

JJ steps away from the beat-up boy and you see a few of his friends pull Liam’s limp body away. You lock your eyes back to JJ’s and he takes a careful step towards you causing you to involuntarily flinch back slightly.

I'm not tryna

Be another just

Pick you up

Kinda guy

Tryna drink you up

Tryna take you home

He wants to cry out at the sight. Don't you know that he would rather die than ever hurt you?

You do know this, and you're not afraid of the boy in the slightest, but the last five minutes have put you on edge.

Seeing the broken look in the blonde’s eyes, you take quick steps toward his body, wrapping him in your embrace. He melts into your arms, allowing his face to nuzzle into the crook of your neck.

The crowd that had formed around the fight disperses, realizing the show is over.

“(Y/N).” The sound of your name being called pulls your attention away from the sweet boy in your arms.

You pull away from JJ slightly, still keeping an arm around his bicep.

Looking over, you see John B standing to the side with Sarah Cameron. You had heard about the two of them getting together and you suddenly realize why JJ happened to be at this party.

The sadness in John B’s eyes as he looks at you breaks your heart. The two of you have been like sister and brother your whole lives and, besides JJ, he was the hardest for you to stop talking to.

You feel JJ’s grip on you loosen, urging you to go to John. The two of you walk towards each other and John B pulls you into his arms.

“I missed you, (Y/N/N),” he says unto your hair, “So much.”

You smile, tears softly rolling down your cheeks. “I missed you too, JB,” you say, pulling away to look at JJ who looks back with a sad smile on his face.

But I just don't understand

How another man

Can take your sun

And turn it ice cold

The four of you decided it was best to leave. John B dropped Sarah off at her house and drove the three of you back to the Chateau. Your stomach drops at the sight of the small shack.

JJ notices your facial expression, placing his hand softly on top of yours. “You okay?” he asks gently as John B parks the van.

You nod with a small smile and JJ helps you out of the van, holding your hand as he leads you to the porch. You stop walking, causing the two boys to turn around and look at you.

“I'm sorry,” you say, tears pooling in your eyes again. JJ gives you a knowing look. “(Y/N),” he says, almost sternly.

“No,” you say, wiping your eyes, “Let me talk.” JJ nods and John B looks at you expectantly. “I left you. Both of you. I- Liam, he just made me feel so useless and I didn't want to be a bother to you guys anymore.”

JJ lets out a sound, almost like a growl, and pulls you into a hug. “You are not useless, (Y/N),” he says seriously, “You are so important, to both of us, and we missed you so much.”

You nod into his chest as John B comes to wrap his arms around both of you.

The three of you group hug and you sigh contently, happy to be back with your boys.

Well, I've had enough to drink

And it's makin'

Me think that I just might

Tell you if I were a painter I wouldn't change ya

I'd just paint you bright

John B helps JJ set up the pull out while you change into a pair of John B’s sweats and JJ’s t-shirt. John B says goodnight and goes to “hit the hay” as he puts it, leaving you and JJ alone again.

“I'll sleep on the other couch and you can take the bed,” he says sweetly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

The two of you settle into your “beds”, but you can't seem to fall asleep with so many thoughts running through your mind.

Everything that has happened since you left the pogues seems like one big sad blur. Your mind wanders to JJ. What does this mean for you two?

“(Y/N),” the voice you love so much calls. You hum in response. “You ‘wake?” he asks. You sit up in the pullout shaking your head.

“Can't sleep,” you say, rubbing your eyes.

JJ sits up as well. “M’sorry, baby,” the nickname makes your heart flutter.

You open your arms for the boy who looks at you warily. “Are you sure, (Y/N),” he asks. You nod quickly and he stands up, falling into the pullout and wrapping you into his arms. He tucks your head under his chin, pulling you closer.

“JJ,” you ask.

It's his turn to hum in response. “This may be weird for you, but I feel like I just have to say it,” you tell him. JJ pulls back just enough to look into your eyes. He's worried about what you are going to say but tries to hide it for your sake. “I love you, J.”

JJ smiles, leaning down to nuzzle his nose with yours in an Eskimo kiss. “I love you too,” he says sincerely, but you're afraid he doesn't understand what you mean.

“No, J,” you say, looking away from his eyes, “I love you. Like, I'm in love with you.”

The blonde boy only smiles bigger. He leans down pressing a passionate kiss to your lips, pulling away when you run out of air. JJ trails sweet kisses down your jaw and neck before placing one last kiss on your lips.

“I'm in love with you too (Y/N),” he says kissing your forehead. JJ wonders how he went so long without being able to kiss you and hold you. Even after only confessing a few hours ago, it feels so natural to have you in his arms. The thought of not having you makes his heart ache.

“I have to ask you something, but you can say no and it won't change anything and I understand that this is hard because of everything that just happened,” JJ rambles. You kiss his jaw softly, urging him to continue. “Will you be mine. Ya know. Like my girlfriend, or whatever.”

You smile wide. “Of course I'll be yours, J.”

JJ copies your smile leaning down to press another kiss to your lips.

He pulls away, snuggling into you, and the both of you bask in the feeling of being in each other's arms. Your hand reaches up to play with JJ’s hair as your eyes start to droop.

“Love ya, pretty girl.”

“Love you too, J.”

'Cause blue looks good on the sky

Looks good on that neon buzzin' on the wall

But darling, it don't match your eyes

You are sitting down on a beach towel, watching the sun slowly fall into the ocean, lighting the sky with a beautiful rainbow of colors. Your feet are outstretched in front of you and your hands prop you up behind your back. The Outer Banks heat is making your skin warm, but you don't mind, letting the steadily depleting sun hit your skin.

You watch as JJ catches another wave, surfing it perfectly. You giggle as he raises his hand in a fist, clapping for him.

It's been two weeks since you finally ended things with Liam. You were able to mend things with the rest of the pogues and Kiara and Pope welcomed you back with open arms. Things with JJ have been going amazing. The two of you agreed to take things slowly seeing as you were just getting out of a toxic relationship. It was different to finally be in a place with JJ where you weren't afraid to show him and tell him how you feel, but you loved it.

JJ runs towards you, gripping his board in one hand as the other pushes back his blonde locks.

When he gets to your towel, JJ throws down his board and plops down next to you, pulling you into a sweet hug.

You giggle. “You're all wet, J,” you say, not making any move to get out of his warm embrace. The boy peppers your face with soft kisses causing you to giggle even more.

A few minutes later you are seated in between JJ’s legs and he has his strong arms wrapped around your waist, his head nuzzled in the crook of your neck.

“I love you, J,” you say, still watching the sunset.

“I love you too, pretty girl,” JJ says kissing your neck. He begins humming the tune to a song you recognize.

“Blue ain't your color, umm mm,” he sings, “No, no baby, come here baby, let me light up your world.”

✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰

420 notes · View notes

ohlookthelittlegirlwrites · 2 years

Text

Chapter 1

(Probably)

Nicolas opened the door to the Pet shelter. He always got goosebumps from the cages filled with broken people: Pets. But this time he needed to see his friend urgently.

"Liam?" He called out.

Some of the Pets huddled towards the back of their cages, some went limp, and some didn't react.

A brown-haired man approached him with a smile.

"Hey Nick! Haven't seen you around lately. Liam's out of town but if its important, I can forward a message."

"Ben! Yeah, I've got a lot of work to do. Can you tell Liam to call me when he can?"

"Sure thing man."

The two men stopped to watch as a plumb man dragged in a small, black-haired girl on a leash. A Pet. Ben put on his customer's smile and went to greet him. Nicolas couldn't seem to take his gaze off of the girl. He'd never seen a Pet this terrified. She was shaking on her knees, staring at the ground, breath hitching.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ben gesturing for him to go over.

"Hey Nick? Can you take it with you for a few days. A week or two at most. We don't have enough room for it here." Ben asked.

His cold mask was getting sloppy so he quickly agreed, not really listening, concentrating on keeping his face emotionless as they exchanged papers. He took the girl's leash from the man's chubby fingers and walked out the door, pulling her with him.

At first he almost had to drag her but after the third corner, she walked exactly one step behind him on his left hand side. Like a good Pet should.

As they arrived home, Nicolas quickly took the girl's collar off, along with the leash. Angry red marks greeted him and he fought to remain expressionless.

"My name is Nicolas. What's yours?" He asked.

"You can call me anything, Master." She whispered.

"Call me by my name." He ordered.

"Yes, Master Nicolas." She flinched.

He fished out the papers from his pocket and scanned them, looking for a name. Nope. No name.

"Alright then. I'll call you Mekra. Is that okay?"

The girl seemed to lighten as she nodded, still looking at the floor. Nico sighed. That seemed to frighten her though so he ordered her up. She was short. Like, really short, and thin. She only barely came up to his shoulders. Her black hair hung loose just below her shoulder blades in a tangled mess.

"Alright follow me, I'll show you around."

The girl obediently followed her new master around the house, nodding every time he showed her a room. Finally, they arrived at the bathroom.

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

"I want you to clean yourself up. I'm going shopping so I'll be back soon." Master told his pet.

It nodded. Is this a threat? "I'll be back soon" Master had said. Master left and pet still stood there like the stupid thing it was. "Clean yourself up." Master's words echoed in its head. But- surely Master didn't mean the bathroom. But Master hadn't shown pet its place. Pet decided to risk it. It wouldn't have time to find where it can clean itself anyway and Master would be mad.

Pet turned the shower to cold, not wanting to waste Master's warm water. It hurried as much as it could, washing its hair and body with only water. After it was finished, pet looked around for something to dry itself with. Not Master's towel of course. That would result in a good beating. Finding nothing safe, pet decided to wait until it dried. It had been in a similar situation before so it can endure it again.

A knock at the door had pet leaping out, almost slipping on its wet feet, scrambling to open the door and kneel at Master's feet.

"Ah I see you washed your hair too. Good. Here, I bought you a towel. Dry yourself and meet me in the kitchen, okay?"

Why did Master ask pet? Pet nodded on instinct. Something dry landed in front of it, and it flinched away, silently cursing at itself. It was a pale red towel but it was the first thing pet has ever owned. Pet couldn't really process it. It can't own something! Its just a pet. Pets can't own anything! Master nudged the towel towards pet with his foot and pet took the towel, scrambling to dry itself as Master left.

The towel was soft. The softest thing pet has touched in a very long time. And it was pet's? Yes! No, it can't be. Its just a trick. Master wants to punish pet later for using Master's things? Pet's thoughts were interrupted by Master suddenly appearing in front of it with a big shirt. He stuffed the shirt into Pet's hands, ordering it to put it on. But pets aren't supposed to wear clothes! Especially not Master's clothes!

_____________

The girl slowly reached out with a shaking hand.

Come on. Just take it already!

She slowly pulled it over her head, glancing up at the tall man.

"Good. I have lunch ready. Come on." He told her.

__________

And here is my first attempt at posting my writing lol

#Mekra #pet whump #pet #fear #conditioned whumpee #uhm...idk what else to tag #pls dm me if you want me to put specific warnings #Nico

12 notes · View notes

jerakeenc · 3 years

Text

many kidfics i’ve read and loved

look who’s reccing a million year old fics now. kidfics, very many. posted to dw for snowflake, thought I’d copy here as well. will be reading most, if not all. if you don’t hear from me again, this list is the culprit.

101 Ways To Get Lucky (In Love) by lenore

18,200 words | SGA, McKay/Sheppard

Rodney McKay is rich, gorgeous and at the top of his game—except someone just moved the goalposts! Now Rodney realizes he is sorely lacking the one status symbol that everybody seems to have…the perfect family. Rodney needs help, so he hires a relationship coach. Single-dad John Sheppard may be an expert, but not when it comes to his own relationships! And every day he spends with Rodney makes him wish that he could be the one to fill the vacancy in Rodney's life…

A Beautiful Lifetime Event by astolat

29,000 words | SGA, McKay/Sheppard

Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans.

An Earlier Heaven by regann

67,400 words | X-Men, Erik/Charles

In the wake of Cuba, Charles and his students are ready to pick up the pieces and work toward achieving Charles's dream of a safe haven for young mutants. Those plans, however, take a surprising turn thanks to a very unexpected complication. As he slowly builds a future for his students and for his child, Charles struggles with the loss of Erik and the secrets he's willing to keep to protect his family, but those strides are shattered when Erik makes a startling reappearance into his life. [mpreg, kidfic, ensemble]

And everything nice by noelia_g

30,200 words | Social Network, Mark/Eduardo

The one where Mark somehow ends up with a child and of course needs a nanny for the amount of time he spends at the office. Only problem is a string of nannys keep trying to get into his pants for what he assumes is his money. Cue Mark's assistant hiring a male nanny, enter Eduardo.

asking to be born by longtime_lurker

26,500 words | Bandom, Pete/Patrick

"Don't worry, it's probably just his big gay freakout," Andy yells cheerfully and unhelpfully into Patrick's ear as they're hustling Pete over to the nearest private clinic.

Better with You by harriet_vane

38,100 words | 1D, Liam/Louis

Based on this prompt at the kinkmeme:

Single parent and solo artist Liam Payne hires Louis Tomlinson to be a full time nanny to his four year old son Sammy. Although the two men don't quite click from the start it's love at first sight between Sammy and Louis. Eventually Louis and Liam warm up to each other and get on like a house on fire, in fact the two become a little too fond of each other.

I refuse to apologize for how sweet this ended up, okay? It's kidfic, I am forever writing kidfic, and this one is even kid-fic-ier than usual.

Can't Get Enough of You (Baby) by eternalbreath

22,100 words | Inception, Arthur/Eames

Eames vanishes from dreamshare and Arthur goes a little crazy looking for him until he stumbles across him -- with a baby.

Chelsea, Chelsea, I Believe by empathapathique

300,800 words | Hockey, Kane/Toews

Patrick meets a girl his rookie year.

Don't You Shake Alone by dsudis

62,180 words | Generation Kill, Brad/Nate

Nate looked exactly like Brad always pictured him: exhausted in the full life-in-a-combat-zone sense of the word.

Dude, what's a bulwark? by kellifer_fic

12,150 words | Teen Wolf, Derek/Stiles

Beacon Hills is the kind of small town where everybody knows everybody, and what everybody knows is that surly diner owner Derek Hale and free spirited single dad Stiles Stilinski have been in love with each other for years. If only they knew it too.

Every Other Beautiful World by rhiannonhero

43,280 words | SGA, McKay/Sheppard

Some things are unexpected but still inevitable in every beautiful world.

Forever, Now by harriet_vane

227,100 words | Bandom, Frank/Gerard, Jon/Spencer, Brendon/Ryan, Brian/Greta

Brian rescues kid!Gerard and Mikey from life on the streets, and eventually everyone finds a family.

here comes the sun by oflights

56,600 words | Social Network, Mark/Eduardo

This is a story about growing up, sad 70's rock songs, too much hair gel, "Maxwell's Silver Hammer", a baby with curly hair, a Geiger counter, a dog that isn't named Max, the Chicken Dance, Cheerios, pepper-spray, drugs, sex, and a stuffed chicken named Cluckerberg, nicknamed Cluck. or: Mark raises Sean's accidental baby, and I write the fluffiest thing ever.

I Got a Love (That Keeps Me Waiting) by svmadelyn

163,700 words | Hockey, Kane/Toews

There's a lot of different ways this summary could go, like:

Patrick Kane gets more than a gold medal in Sochi.

Or, the classic: It's too late to pull out now.

Or: Patrick Kane continues to thrive in high pressure situations.

Or: Patrick Kane gets knocked up, goes to White Castle, and finds love, not necessarily in that order.

But, ultimately, all that really matters is this: Patrick Kane is keeping his baby.

I Would Be by cathalin

20,290 words | American Idol, Kris/Adam

AU. Adam and Kris meet a few years down the road, when down-on-his-luck Kris and his young daughter Katherine show up to rent a room from Adam, who never made it to an Idol audition.

Ice Ice Baby by uraneia

51,340 words | Hockey, Claude/Danny

A gold medal isn't the only souvenir Claude brings home from Prague.

OR: The one where Claude gets drunk, gets pregnant, and gets convinced to move in with Danny, whom he's been secretly in love with for years. What could possibly go wrong?

my heart is bigger than the distance in between us by estrella30

15,000 words | 1D, Nick/Harry

Nick chuckles quietly but grabs the remote and follows Emma, Aimee coming up close behind him. It’s indeed Harry on the telly, singing along to his latest radio hit and smiling slowly into the camera far too seductively for half eight on a Friday morning, if you ask Nick. He presses the volume just in time to catch the crowd’s roaring applause and see the pink flush Harry’s cheeks. Nick watches him duck his head as he gives a small wave to the audience, and it hits Nick that Harry is still the most humble and appreciative billionaire Nick’s ever met.

Good job, popstar, Nick thinks to himself.

or, Nick is a single dad and Harry is his bff and it's a bunch of years into the future and they fall in love

Once Upon a Furry Octopus by skoosiepants

11,270 words | SGA, McKay/Sheppard

He was an intelligent, intuitive pet, but he wasn’t going to start sniffing out ZPMs or hidden Ancient weaponry or detailed instructions on how to kill a Wraith with a common household item. A pen, for instance.

Reconcilable Differences by astolat

40,000 words | Smallville, Clark/Lex

Luthor Family Values.

Shelter by harriet_vane

63,500 words | Social Network, Jesse/Andrew

From the kinkmeme prompt: Some sort of AU vaguely based on Shelter! For whatever reason, Jesse has to take care of Hallie and give up his dream of being an actor. He ends up working in a dead end job when former, now successful friend (Andrew) returns home. They fall in love, etc, only Jesse can't go away with him because he has a responsibility to his family. CUE ANGST.

Show Me The Way Back Home Baby by stilinskisparkles

15,000 words | Teen Wolf, Derek/Stiles

In which Lydia and Jackson produce the world's cutest baby, and the pack goes crazy-- the good kind of crazy. Except for Derek, who is afraid of tiny cute babies and Stiles who plans to be the best Uncle ever. Even if Danny called dibs on Godfather.

Skybird by windsweptfic

33,785 words | Inception/White Collar, Arthur/Eames

Arthur and Eames adopt a kid and raise that kid into Neal Caffrey.

Small Cells and Fibers by sevenfists

7,830 words | Bandom, Frank/Gerard

Tuesdays were finger-painting days. Frank made sure to wear his oldest pair of jeans, because even with his full-length apron and his constant reminders that paint belongs on paper and not on clothing, he always ended up with tiny, multi-colored handprints all over his clothes. There wasn't a thing he could do about it, so he just wore pants from 1995.

Small Primes and Square Roots by liviapenn

12,500 words | SGA, McKay/Sheppard

"I hope you picked someone really intelligent, otherwise it seems like it would be kind of a waste. Of incubation time, if nothing else."

So Wise We Grow by deastar

81,250 words | Star Trek Reboot, Kirk/Spock

"Commander Spock, we have located your son," the Vulcan lady on the screen says, which would be great, except Jim can tell by the look on Spock's face that he's never heard of this kid before in his life. "If it is expedient, the child will be sent to join you on the Enterprise within the week."

Something Better by lovelypoet

18,350 words | Bandom, Frank/Gerard

"We all have to take jobs we don't like sometimes, you know?"

The Next Time You Say Forever by Thistlerose

27,300 words | Star Trek Reboot, Kirk/McCoy

After his ex-wife's death, McCoy is forced to leave the Enterprise to look after his teenage daughter. Under normal circumstances, this would be the end of…whatever it is he has with Kirk that's more than friendship, but less than what he wants. But the universe has other intentions.

The Reeducation of Misters Kane and Toews by jezziejay

15,900 words | Hockey, Kane/Toews

In which Kaner sort of has a kid, and Mr. Toews doesn't know which of them is the bigger brat.

AU featuring teacher!Jon and hockey-player!Kaner. With bonus 'Hawks characters, love notes, pasta jewelry, Be Better Pizzas, pirouettes, a sprinke of angst and guest appearance by Derek Jeter.

The Road Delivered Us Home by keelywolfe

117,430 words | Hobbit, Thorin/Bilbo

In the years since Bilbo left Erebor, he has lost his respectability, gained a nephew, and gotten on with life at Bag End.

He'd left aside adventure for the comforts and peace of his little Hobbit hole, and for the love of a child who needed him. Though perhaps, adventures can yet find him.

This Story Was Brought to You by Our Sponsors by scaramouche

29,500 words | Supernatural, Dean/Castiel

Dean's post-apocalyptic life is a friggin' soap opera. Romance! Angst! Separations! Reunions! Pizza Dinners! A Child Dean Never Knew He Had! It's all very dramatic.

throw a little sparkle all over it by etben

26,000 words | Bandom, Frank/Gerard

"Hey, Ma," Mikey says. "No, everything's fine—well, I mean, Gerard accidentally adopted a baby—no, he's changing her now, he can't talk."

Tiny Houses by ohmyjetsabel

77,130 words | Teen Wolf, Derek/Stiles

"So this is what Stiles does. He lies in Scott’s bed and waits for Melissa to say she’s found someone to get it out of him, to cure him of the wrongness and the bad, and he dreams.

God, he dreams.

He dreams of fire and swollen bellies and that scene in Alien, of giving birth to jackals through his urethra, the whole horrific nine yards. His head is a terrible place to be, he can’t imagine his stomach is much better, why anyone would want to put a thing inside of it."

Tip, Slide, Tumble by j_s_cavalcante

42,900 words | due South, Fraser/Kowalski

Ray knew when he found the body in the alley it was going to change someone's life. He just didn't expect that life would be his.

Turn by saras_girl

306,000 words | Harry Potter, Harry/Draco

One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

Unless it's lies or it's love by sprat

25,300 words | American Idol, Kris/Adam

In which Adam (a rock star) meets Kris (a single dad) at an Emergency Room in Arkansas at the end of a particularly shitty night. Also features: San Francisco, fresh starts, baked goods, OCs, cameo appearances by Matt and Megan, pirates, monsters with garbage heads and a recording studio.

What Child Is This by lamardeuse

30,150 words | Merlin, Arthur/Merlin

A modern AU with Merlin, Arthur, mayhem, a baby and a jingly elf hat.

What to Expect by arsenic

29,200 words | Bandom, Bob/Mikey

Mikey has his band, and his little girl, and that's enough. Really, it is.

Winter's Children by neery

66,890 words | Marvel, Bucky/Steve

When their attempts to recreate the super soldier serum failed, Hydra started trying to breed Captain America clones from his genetic samples. Unfortunately, the serum's effects aren't passed down genetically, so instead of an army of tiny Captain Americas, they get a bunch of tow-headed, asthmatic, allergic, immuno-compromised little Steves.

And then the Winter Soldier stumbles across Hydra's failed experiment...

With Six You Get Eggroll by speranza

31,000 words | due South, Fraser/Kowalski

"Kick 'em In The Head: A Guide To Parenting."

ETA: Bonus! Because I apparently lost my bookmark for this one but have the memory of an elephant for kidfic, so it came to me eventually. :D

A Farm in Iowa 'Verse by sheafrotherdon

166,000 words | SGA, McKay/Sheppard

John inherits a farm, Rodney ends up entirely out of his element, and there is much ado about baseball.

#kidfic #recs

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