#and i needed something to distract from all the fuckery going on today

[ivyblossom]

Ed's Respectful Gaze: Seeing Stede as he is

I took a long flight today, so I rewatched Our Flag Means Death, and caught something I completely missed the first time. I'm sure others did not miss it. I'm not writing this to enlighten anyone, it's just that writing things out is how I solidify things in my head.

So here's what I realized: Ed is the only character who looks at Stede without prejudice, even if you include the camera as a character. Ed sees past all the norms, expectations, stories and lies, the stuff the camera largely keeps our amused focus on, and Ed sees Stede as he truly is.

The first time though, I thought Ed saw Stede as something other than he is until he meets Stede the first time and sees that, whoops, no, this guy isn't actually a competent pirate after all. But he's interesting anyway.

Ed has heard these rumours about Stede and goes looking for him. Izzy puffs Stede up to make him seem both more ridiculous but also bolder and braver than he actually is, so I assumed what gets Ed's attention is at least mostly the fiction about Stede.

Which of course makes sense. You can't possibly understand someone before you meet them, based only on second hand accounts. You just can't. And the story shows us that Stede is basically incompetent and only getting through by luck and the seat of his pants.

Because of that, I originally thought there was a missing scene where Ed connects the dots and clocks what Stede actually is. I thought he must have seen this reality, adjusted his perspective, and then decided that he likes Stede anyway.

But I realized today that there is no missing scene. Because Ed isn't even all that interested in the lies that Stede is trying to construct. The lies are not what Ed sees when he looks at Stede. So there's no need for him to adjust his perspective. He gets Stede right the first time.

It's as if Ed's scale for judging Stede is radically different from how the narrative he's in judges Stede.

As the audience, the narrative encourages us to see Stede an incompetent man pretending that he's something he isn't, with hilarious, cartoonish results. Stede is so charming and likeable, so silly and ridiculous, his showy audacity pulls focus. But Ed is never distracted by that the way I am. Ed always sees Stede as he is: a creative, intelligent, dramatically original thinker. And that's what draws Ed to Stede. I don't think Izzy understands that at all. Actually, I think Izzy and the camera are in agreement in not understanding it! But Ed is clear as a bell about Stede from the start. Ed admires Stede's choices even while we're laughing at them.

We know that Stede only bested Izzy by bluffing and lucking out. It's framed as a fortunate and kind of ridiculous accident, but Ed immediately sees it for what it actually is: a real win driven by original, creative thinking and a massive amount of courage. Stede puts on a fuckery without knowing what a fuckery even is, on the spot and under pressure, with no resources at all, and it worked. He bests Izzy. Twice.

The Revenge is an outrageous, impractical ship, and everyone thinks that Stede's design choices are sign of his incompetence, including the narrative. But Ed never thinks that way. He sees Stede's choices as risky, creative decisions driven by an unwillingness to conform in the face of overwhelming pressure. If Stede is anything, he is uncompromisingly himself, even when it's not prudent.

Ed doesn't go looking for Stede because he's an interesting and new fellow pirate and potential ally or foe: Ed goes looking for him because he immediately recognized that Stede is a creative, original and unique human being regardless of his competence. Ed sees Stede's soul.

#Ed is right about Stede #Ed sees Stede #Ed loves Stede for the parts of himself that he can't hide #there is nothing as delightful as a thoughtful romance

[bylightofdawn]

So my attempt to deal with midterm election anxiety today has been to just....not look at my phone all day long and I spent my morning/lunch break working on the LED set up for my display case.

I'm delighted to say that there are plug and play options so I did NOT have to learn how to solder to accomplish this. It's not the best, but for a first attempt at doing any kind of electrical lighting/wiring I will take the W and call it good enough.

I ended up prolly spending just as much between the various supplies than what I would have spent to buy a pre-built kit but I knew I wanted to have a diffuser for the lights rather than just have LED strips. So that required me doing it piecemeal instead sadly.

I think all in all I spent around 50 bucks or so so it's not the worst thing I've spent my money on in the past two months and I gotta say I do love the idea of doing additional mood lighting in my room. Sadly it's not quite bright enough to replace my standing lamp which has a LED lightbulb and I'd been toying with the idea of moving it across my room or something but now I think it's going to have to stay where it's at because it's just not quite bright enough to do the trick. I could buy a second set of LED strips and put them in like I've seen people do and maybe I will do that down the line so I can have multi-directional lighting options at different colors but for now, it'll do, pig.

I opted for a RGB set so I can do different colors. Sadly, since it's all on the same circuit, I cannot do like...different colors per shelf. I could I think if I did multiple circuits and did some splitters and did more technical shit than my brain can wrap it's head around but lawl the creepy red is definitely a mood. I also think I might be able to download an app to do custom colors than just rely upon the remote I got but I'll explore that later.

Though can I say just how amazing my Robert Eickholt paperweight looks in this lighting? I inherited this for my grandmother and it’s about the only thing of hers outside of her wedding ring that I’ve ever wanted and I finally got it a couple of years ago and it just…looks so awesome in this lighting. The dichroic glass scattered inside of the dome is just so beautiful. It’s a piece called The Silver Veil and it’s just the perfect name for this piece of art.

Also, Cody’s helmet refracted in it is HILARIOUS. But that’s neither here nor there

I'm lowkey bummed even with the diffuser you can see the LED's super strongly in the reflection on the glass. I don't know if I could try and disperse it further by maybe putting strips of parchment paper maybe inside the diffuser? But then I'm like ehhhh is that a fire hazard? I'm sure reddit has a tutorial somewhere on how to accomplish what I want but I cannot be arsed to look into it any further tonight.

I am going to just accept my tired sense of accomplishment, count it as a win and try and find a fresh distraction to keep me from obsessively driving myself crazy refreshing election results pages. As I feared...Texas is just a sea of fucking red. We're still fucking stuck with Greg Abbott as governor unless the Dem's can magically regain a shit-ton of ground in the next 24 hours and my stomach is in fucking knots over the whole state of the future in my country.

I'm so fucking drained from this election and dealing with constant attack ads from both sides. I literally told a bot to fuck off when they texted me an attack ad on behalf of Ken Paxton who is a fucking clown and how the fuck is that man even still in office after the sheer level of fuckery he's gotten into this year.

Ugh I need another distraction because my thoughts are definitely taking a bad spiral into full on anxiety mode. Sorry for whinging about politics, I know everyone is just fucking over it at this point. But eh, it's my blog and I will word vomit all over it if I so choose.

#el in real life #bad mental health days #the world is going to hell in a handbasket and look at me trying to manifest myself into the 'this is fine' meme #oh shiny

[emberphantom]

Concept for a MacDennis kiss scenario - it happens during a game of Chardee Macdennis and kissing another player for a set amount of time is the task Dennis gets, who reasons that Dee’s his sister, Frank raised him (and is gross anyway) and God knows what Charlie’s been eating. So a Macdennis kiss ensues. And involves everyone else exchanging glances when both of them get utterly lost in it and barely hear Dee like “Helloooo? Guys? Time’s up, let’s get on with the ga- CAN THEY HEAR ME?”

AKFDFKDLSG ANON. DUDE. GURL. BRO. MY GUY. BUDDY. YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND. THIS is one of my FAVORITE TROPES. Your Mind wow. TY for ur service. 

You know I had to do it [write a minific] to ‘em

Predictably, the Golden Geese are on Level 2: Body, ahead of Mac, Charlie and Frank, who’ve teamed up again because Frank hated playing by himself plus it helps them keep an eye on him after the last time they played and he basically tried to kill everyone... 

Anyway so it’s Dennis’s turn to draw a card. It’s a Physical Challenge. Psh...Easy. He reads it aloud: “Pick a player to kiss from any team. Other players will decide for how long--10 seconds minimum. MUST USE TONGUE.” 

Dee giggles next to him--they’re winning, but she’s pretty wine drunk regardless. 

“That’s ridiculous. I’m not doing that.” 

Oh but if he refuses, Mac, Charlie, and Frank get the card and automatically advance to the next round. So it’s not really an option, Dee reminds him. 

He has 30 seconds to make a choice. Who’s it going to be? 

Well, not Dee. Obviously. 

Frank’s also a big No. Even though they’re not technically related, Dennis spent half his life thinking they were. Also, Frank’s just...gross. 

So that leaves Charlie and Mac. 

He’s already kissed Charlie and if he’s being honest it’s not something he’s keen on doing again. It took Dennis hours to get the taste of cheese out of his mouth and who know’s what Charlie’s been eating today? (He thinks he saw an egg shell in the garbage before. It was not from a chicken’s egg...) 

So really, that just leaves Mac as the only viable, not gross option. 

Mac must realize it too. He hasn’t looked at Dennis since he read the card. 

“Ten seconds!” Dee squawks in his ear. “C’mon dum-dum--do you want to lose?!” 

And no, he doesn’t want to give up their 18+ game winning streak but...

“Five!” 

He doesn’t have a choice. Mac would probably do the same thing... 

“Three...two...” 

“Alright fine-Mac! I pick Mac.” 

A rare silence falls over Paddy’s as Dennis slides off his stool and walks to the neutral space between the two teams. He glares expectantly at Mac until he does the same. He still refuses to make eye contact. 

“’Kay bozos,” Dee swivels around to face them and checks her watch. “You have to kiss for 30 seconds starting--” 

“Too long,” Dennis cuts her off. 

“Okay twenty--” 

“Nope.”

“Jesus okay--FIFTEEN seconds.” She waits for Dennis to object but he finally concedes with a grumbly “Fine.” 

Frank and Charlie also agree to the terms. Mac finally nods too after Charlie swats him in the arm. 

Dee’s being way too smug. She’s not even trying to hide the fact that she’s enjoying this. “Alright on the count of three, you two ding-a-lings need to makeout for 15 seconds. And we’d better see some tongue action otherwise it doesn’t count.” 

If she wasn’t on his team, Dennis would murder her right then and there. He still might. 

“One...” 

Dennis takes a step forward into the remaining space between him and Mac. 

“Two...” 

He swallows the lump in his throat and Mac finally looks up at him. Dennis can see his ears turning red. 

“Three!” 

Dennis grabs Mac’s face and yanks him forward, smashing their mouths together. Mac nearly loses his balance, arms flailing out to the side before his hands come to rest on Dennis’s hips. 

Mac’s sharp intake of breath affords Dennis the opportunity to shove his tongue past Mac’s lips. It’s sloppy and kind of gross, not gentle or sexy by any means but Mac let’s him do it. In fact, it seems to spur him on, and he’s actually kissing him back. 

Mac tastes sweet and fruity, like the Riesling he’s been knocking back all of Level One. It’s...well it’s kind of super intoxicating and Dennis thinks he could get addicted to the way Mac’s scruff feels scraping against his skin. He moves a hand to grip the back of Mac’s neck and pulls him closer, needing to feel as much of him as he possibly can.

He’s not sure how much time has passed at this point. Dennis didn’t even hear Dee start counting. As soon has his lips touched Mac’s, it was like he ceased to exist within time and space as we know it.  

Suddenly something cold and wet sends him crashing back to reality. Dennis yelps and leaps away from Mac. And...great. He’s soaked and reeks of beer. Who the fuck-- 

“What the hell Deandra?!”

“Are you kidding me?” She shrieks back. “You guys were going at it for like, two full minutes.” 

“That’s cheating! Cheater!” Mac butts in. “You’re not allowed to interfere in another player’s Physical Challenge!” 

Dee looks between the two of them, absolutely dumbfounded. “You--are you--the challenge was over. You guys just kept going at it?!” 

Dennis is so completely over this. He doesn’t have to explain himself to these idiots. He grabs Mac’s wrist and starts stalking towards the door. 

“Wait--where are you going?” Charlie calls after them. “We need to finish the game!” 

“Game’s over, morons.” 

“Dennis--are you serious? Dennis get back here!” Dee continues to screech, even though they’re already gone. “You can’t just leave in the middle of--oh GOD. DAMMIT.” 

#sunny asks #macdennis #mini fic #this...literally took all day to write #i just...i needed to i love this concept so much #and i needed something to distract from all the fuckery going on today #i wanted to post this earlier but i kept having to stop working on it #anyway here it is #they're gonna go bang 👀

[a-non-ymouswriter]

Five Times Then One

Rewind Crossover Shot with Living In Circular

Living In Circular is an awesome DSMP looping fanfic that recently did a crossover with Rewind :D Yes I gave the author permission to use Rewind in their story and yes it is completely awesome. 

In honor of that awesome chapter, of course I had to write a shot for it involving Red (Aka, Looper Tommy) and Theo :)

It’s kind of a long one folks! 

TW: Language, Self-Loathing, Angst, Etc. Etc. 

it’s mostly hilarious, but the ending is very emotional.

Five Times Theo was Dragged Into Therapy + One Time He Wasn’t

First Time

You know, there was a lot of things that Theo hated now that he and Toby were in the present. His hate for those things varied and changed as time went by, but his latest subject to vehemently hate was himself.

And he wasn’t just being edgy, or anything like that but he really, definitely hated his alternate self.

His newest alternate self.

The damned Looper alternate self, or whatever they were. The ones who suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and just interfered with everything.

Which was kind of ironic given Theo and Toby had done just that months ago when they first arrived. But at least they weren’t as fucking chaotic as the new group- and it’d just been him and Toby that came, then Ghostbur who was there because of time-fuckery but at least it was just the three of them!

Now there was a whole group of displaced time traveling (looping) assholes that were really getting on Theo’s nerve. It’s easier to get on his nerves now that his mind was so... quiet. 

But Red? Aka his dickhead alternate looper self? Oh, he was the worst of them all. 

“The fuck do you want now? What? Not enough that you gave me one hell of a black eye and locked me up with Toby to talk about feelings and all that crap? We’ve... done that already. Thank you.” There was little gratitude in his tone, more tired vitriol and annoyance. Theo makes a face at the memories of being locked in a room with Toby the room was too small the room was too small fuck fuck to talk (actually talk this time) about everything because their initial ‘talk’ was interrupted. 

It ended with less bruises than the last but Toby had an insufferable smile on his face now. 

Red had his arms crossed and he gave Theo a look, “Puf-White offered therapy, she’s pretty good at it y’know. Thousands of years of experience and all that.” 

Theo narrowed his eyes, “I’ve heard.” He replied dryly, “But no thanks. I’m good. She’s not gonna force me to take her offer.”

“Oh yeah, she won’t.” The smile on Red’s face was practically malicious and Theo immediately turned around and started running.

“But I will.”

Fuck.

Second Time

“I stand corrected last time, I absolutely fucking despise you.” Theo hissed at the physically teenage boy but mentally ancient mother fucker that had him hogtied and was currently carrying him in a princess-carry. Purposefully trying to humiliate him every step of the way. 

It’s not the carry that he’s hating, he could’ve been fine with that. It’s the fact that he’s covered in pink. Hot glittery pink. He was covered in hot pink glitter that would take ages to wash off. If ever, the little bastard might make him be glitter pink forever. 

Red snickered, “Oh calm your tits man, it’s not gonna stay forever- sure it’ll stain for a while and you’ll find glitter everywhere for a while but not forever... Wilbur and the others forbade me to make it last forever. Shame but this is all your fault y’know, you could’ve just gone to Puffy’s next session on time but nope, you tried to skip out.” He gives him an infuriating smirk, “Can’t have that now can we?”

Theo really hated him. He did. 

Third Time

“H-How exactly is he doing that?” Someone among the group asked, watching Red tug on... nothing but thin air. He was clearly just miming on pulling on something, a rope which was presumably tied around Theo who was struggling against it- but there was no rope. A few people checked, nothing there.

Silver, Looper Tubbo, chuckled, “He’s had an interesting variety of loops- this isn’t his strangest ability in his arsenal. He did say he was getting rusty on his miming tricks.” Red let out a silent cackle as he hauled a very loudly swearing Theo on a horse that didn’t exist and rode off towards White (Looper Puffy)’s Therapy Office.

“I’m frankly quite terrified but ultimately glad it’s not me in his place.” Toby admitted, watching him go- his own session wasn’t set for today, and unlike Theo, he actually went on his own so he was safe. 

Fourth Time

“I hate you, I fucking hate you so damn much.”

Red patted Theo’s cheek, “The feeling’s mutual bub. Feeling’s mutual.”

Fifth Time

“Tommy, I’m not really sure if you should keep forcing him in here.” Puffy admitted to him after the session. Theo had immediately left without another word. “Just because I said I wouldn’t force him to take my offer doesn’t really mean you should.”

Tommy rose a brow at her, “I thought you said you were making progress with him.”

The sheep hybrid sighed, “Minimal progress. He’s actually talked-”

“Then I don’t see the problem-”

“Let me finish Tommy. He HAS started talking, but not much. He asked for water or for maybe one of Niki’s cookies (which not really surprising, my wife’s cookies are amazing) but other than that? Nothing.”

The blond looper scowled, “So what, you want me to stop? To just let the guy continue to be a traumatized bastard? Just leave him be?”

“Not really- look, all I’m saying is that Theo is already... distant, to say the least, with us all. Forcing someone into therapy can both be helpful and not, sure he does need therapy and we’re trying that. I’m trying that, but you constantly forcing him isn’t helping him. And I don’t think your methods to get him here are helping that too.” Puffy pointed out dryly, remembering the angry silence as Theo wrung out his red hoodie, completely soaked from head to toe.

She laid a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, “I know that you’re trying to help but you’re also angry with him Tommy. Which isn’t helping him, nor you.” She sighed, and gave him a pleading look. “At least stop humiliating him on the way here? He might get more comfortable around me if he isn’t so preoccupied by whatever you did and stewing in silence because of it.” 

Tommy didn’t look too pleased but begrudgingly nodded his head.

Not This Time

It feels like his head was going to explode.

Overloaded with thoughts that should’ve been held back the static kept him in check his head swirling with every thought being merciless to his focus and keeping distracted to the point of helplessness the static kept him focused his head was empty and yet so full.

Ever since that looping Callahan subdued the static and kept his enchantment from hurting him too much, his head...

Has never been calmer.

Paradoxically, it’s never been more chaotic.

Every thought he’s ever thought, everything he’s kept buried with the static floats into the front of his brain and he has no idea how to deal with it. 

Years worth of guilty thoughts, regrets and more keep appearing in his head. Not only that but everything seems so much louder than before. But muted too. 

It’s a confusing contradiction that has him reeling and he doesn’t know how much more he can take it. Every time he goes out, he feels like he’s being assaulted by just existing even though he’s doing nothing wrong he did everything wrong he fucked up so badly he deserves this punishment just standing there and his head threatens to crack open.

He can usually ignore it, carry on with his day what does he do now he was being useless what is wrong with him but lately it’s been getting harder and harder to ignore it all.

The static isn’t there to keep him grounded, he feels like he’ll end up flying off the ground. It isn’t there to keep him afloat, he’s going to end up sinking into the deep.

He should have said no, when Callahan subdued the static he needed it e-even if Dream said so he NEEDED it it’s so muted in his head and he has no idea what to do with the free space.

Theo has to let go of the static.

But he doesn’t want to.

Even with it muted, the absence and the less intense reaction of the static is throwing him off. 

He feels more tired than ever and on the verge of collapse.

Theo just wants everything to stop.

“You’re late to Puffy’s therapy session.”

“...”

Theo clutched his thighs, pressing them closer to his chest as he curled up even tighter against the tree trunk. He didn’t say anything to the blond god that stood not too far from him. 

He felt ridiculous. Here he was, curled up, hugging his fucking legs like a fucking child- as if it’d do anything to stop the more powerful better version of himself. Hell, he might as well be a child. He probably was compared to Red.

It’s almost funny.

Despite looking like an adult, Theo was a child, still a scared teenage fucking boy exiled from home. While before him stood an ancient old man, looking like a familiar teenage boy that Theo can only see in L’Manberg now. Two of them actually, but only one of them was Tommy Innit, a smiling teenager his own age.

Theo’s too tired to resist much this time.

The air was too much, or maybe it wasn’t enough because his lungs ached in his chest and it hurt to breathe. There was something in his eyes because they were wet and irritated. He was cold, even with his hoodie on, he was cold because he was shaking.

Everything was too loud. The wind, the cows, the rustling plants.

Everything was too quiet. The static, his voice, his own hearing.

He felt like he was going insane.

“...”

“...”

Theo doesn’t dare move from his spot, even as he hears the incoming footsteps. Dread and anticipation pool in his guts- there’s not enough room. He might heave and puke when he gets to Puf- to White’s office. He’ll clean it up maybe. 

Just what will happen now?

...

Nothing.

Theo doesn’t look up to see what’s going on, hearing and feeling someone sit a few spaces beside him on the ground. Red is suspiciously silent and it’s not helping the nausea that’s building in his throat. 

One minute passes.

Two.

Six.

Fourteen.

Twenty.

Fourty-five minutes.

“I just...” His tongue is heavy and bloated, soft but raspy and he’s struggling to speak, “want everything to stop.” 

“...” Red doesn’t reply. 

“I’m so tired.”

Silence.

“Please.”

“It’s not going to stop.” Red replies softly, for once, the hatred is not there as he sees the child underneath the mask. “And you’re always going to feel tired- but it’ll get better.”

“It does?” The child asks the old man.

The old man does not smile, “I swear, it does. It just takes time and effort.” He promises the young boy.

Theo is not fragile. Tommy isn’t. 

But everyone has their moments.

They stay there for the whole day.

#non post #Rewind #tommyinnit #non writes #5+1 one shot #living in circular

[thequietmanno1]

Thelreads, MHA 245, Replies Part 1

1) “A new chapter of BNHA shall take place. Alright! it’s time for our favorite heroes! And also Endeavor, because he’s been ziplocked to the package.”-Buy 3 newbie heroes in training, get a free mentor package deal today!...Refunds not included.

2) “…

Why did this already started like Hawks died and we’re remembering him? For a moment I seriously questioned if there wasn’t a mistake and we’re like, 60 chapters ahead of where we should be.”- Well Hawks does have a lot of Icaraus Parallels. The wings, the cocky attitude, the risk-taking with him trying to balance the necessity of him needing to infiltrate the PLF vs his earnest desire to avoid bloodying his hands more than the bare minimum necessary- he didn’t want to kill Best Jeanest, but his options were that or failure, so he had to go through with it anyway. Flying too close to the sun and you’ll get burned and fall to earth and such, so maybe Horikoshi’s hinting that Hawks’ mission won’t have a happy ending for him…

3) “And I think that answers my question, Endeavor already caught on that some fuckery is taking place, and this means that he also probably figured out that Hawks can’t speak about it, that he must be trying to pass on some sort of message”- For all he’s been pretty crap at interacting with other people, Endeavour’s good at picking up subtle cues in people’s behaviour to tell when something’s off, though I wonder if this came about as a result of his more developed Empathy recently, or if he’d have picked up on this beforehand when his swelled Ego was blocking out his self-reflection ability.

4) “Alright Hawks, we got it, and it’s clear that he got it as well. Your work here is done, can you let the kids enact Stain 2.0 on endeavor now or is there something else you wish to share?”-  Well, he’s got more books to pass around at least, possible stored alongside his flask of black coffee for on-the-go.

5) “AND THAT HE JUST PRAISED THE SHIT OUT OF THE LIBERATION FRONT IN EARSHOT OF KIDS FROM THE NEW GENERATION THAT WERE SUPPOSED TO BE HIS FUTURE ALLIES ON THE BATTLE AGAINST THE LIBERATION FRONT

GODDAMMIT HAWKS. I CAN PHYSICALLY FEEL YOU GOING “SHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHIT” IN YOUR HEAD RIGHT NOW “- He does manage to turn it around into an excuse to pass more books around as a smokescreen for the ‘real’ important book he was handing out, but it’s going to be awkward if Deku finds out about the PLF some other way and pegs hawks as the Mole within the hero society helping them- which he technically is, after a fashion.

Deku: Are you the mole!? Haweks:…Well… the answer isn’t no, but- Deku: New Hampshire SMASH!!!

6) “HAWKS WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU EVEN KEEPING ALL THOSE BOOKS?!

ALSO WHERE CAN I GET THAT JACKET, I LOVE ME SOME INNER POCKETS ON MY LEATHER JACKETS.”-Rather than inner pockets, it seems more like the jacket connects straight to the shadow dimension, given he had about 4 books safely stored within there without any noticeable budges and is implied to have been handing even more out prior to this meaning as a set-up to distract from his real delivery.

7) “Okay, this whole speech of his had the intention of telling what’s going on without revealing himself as a double-agent. We have the knowledge of the intention behind those words, so we can see how blatant the message is: The people behind this book are recruiting people around the country, civilians and heroes, this is their gospel, and they’re gonna fight to make it a reality.”- Hawks can only speak in layered meanings, never saying anything that explicitly contradicts the liberation ideology in case it tips off his ‘handlers’ that something’s up, but the benefit of English is that the same words can have multiple means depending on the context, so he can turn any sentence into a secret message,ifi you know what meanings he’s trying to get across. I’m not certain how this originally was in Japanese, but Hawks was likely laying extra emphasis on different syllables of his speech to help highlight the important phrases in a non-obvious way.

8) “okay that one wasn’t even subtle Hawks, c’mon, if endeavor didn’t noticed the weird emphasis that you put on those words then we’ll have to place all our bets on Midoriya finding out the code by accident.

…

Actually, that would be way better, can we do that instead? It would be hilarious.”- He’s even more obvious in the original Fan translation: “I recommend the second one” so this one at least slightly obfuscates his intent. And Midoria would totally be the type to break codes in his spare time if he wasn’t fanboying over All Might so much- probably would have watched Gravity Falls religiously to find all the hidden cyphers and clues too.

9) “But alright, okay, Endeavor caught on, he’ll figure this message soon. Now let’s see who gets it first, Endeavor or Midoriya. The race is on.”- Endeavour had a head start on account of being the only one actually holding the message, but if he’d put it down for a minute and Midoria had gotten a peak at it he could have solved it much faster- probably before they’d even gotten back to the headquarters.

10) “Oh my god please don’t tell me Hawks just fucking put a arrow pointing at the words and wrote “secret message starts here”.

…

Actually, please tell me that Hawks did just that, after that ~subtle~ message that he gave Endeavor I’d believe if something like that happened.”- It wasn’t that far off it honestly, to which I can only assume he’d pre-marked the book up before the PLF attached all those spy cameras to him as a precaution, or he had to do the same doodling to several other different books in order to hide the one where the marks were important.

11) “And on the back we have Mummyman, Two-Horny and HONSE. truly this agency only hires the best of the best.”-Given at least two of them appear to have heat-themed quirks, I assume that having such an ability or one related to it is a prerequisite of being selected at Endeavour’s agency. The air-cooling bills must be off the charts.

12) “Okay, I think I already like her, she’s going straight to the point, and what’s more, daring them to be badasses and showing what they got, even though they’ll be pretty much competing against 30 other professionals.

Now she’s talking her little brother’s language, he liked the challenge.”- Bakugou wishes this was the attitude he was facing when he interned at Best Jeanest’s, instead of the etiquette lessons and too-tight jeans he got instead. Not that he didn’t come to appreciate the lessons over time, but give this boy a challenge and he’s all cylinders firing, whereas character introspection is a slower and more gradual process that he’s not comfortable with facing at all.

13) “oh my fucking god, those kids are gonna hate here so much, they are basically three extreme introverts on their own ways, and now they’ll be forced to work with all day every day with the loudest motherfuckers on earth.”- Bakugu has experience with Kirishima, whereas Shoto and Izuku have experience with Bakugou’s frequent emotional and literal explosions, so I think they’ll be ok

14) “…

The Flame Hero Agency is full of hot-blooded, hot-headed extroverts , can’t believe they are keeping to the stereotype smh.”- Given Endeavour’s prior characterisation, they probably needed at least 30+ extroverts to balance out his dour mood around the place. Nowadays he’s lightened up a little, but they really had their work cut out for them before, keeping the endeavour hero agency with a friendly face to the public.

15) “A spoonbill? Goddammit Bakugo, learn to identify your birds, Hawks is clearly a member of thered junglefowl species, more specifically the Gallus gallus domesticus subspecies. Fuck’s sake kid, were you supposed to be the best student in class?”- Bakugou saw a book on birds once when he was in kindergarten, and can only name the birds he saw on the page at that point, so he only really knows spoonbills, ducks, ravens and Tokoyami as classifications of birds and he’s going for the one he thinks Hawks is a closest fit for.

16) “YOU’RE STILL THINKING ABOUT THIS ENDEAVOR? I THOUGHT YOU ALREADY FIGURED OUT THAT HE WAS UNDER SURVEILLANCE”- Just because he realised somebody was watching Hawks doesn’t mean he knows who, or more specifically, who’d be watching the number 2 hero from amongst the masses of the public that he needs to be wary of. Hide a needle in a haystack, hide a spy amongst an adoring crowd. All Endeavour really knows is that Hawks left him a clue in the book, and if he can crack the code he’ll hopefully know who to target regarding Hawks’ suspicious behaviour, but until then he can’t be certain which of the multitudes with their eyes on them as the top heroes he needs to be wary of.

17) “And that’s not even getting into how he looked there, it’s almost like there was nothing behind those eyes, like a puppet on strings, just repeating the movements its masters did.”- It says a lot about how Hawks trusted Endeavour’s brain cells to catch his multiple hints that he went the extra mile of making- for him- exaggerated facial gestures to sell that there was something not right going on, when he himself admits that’s not something he prefers doing is he can help it.

18) “I don’t think that’s his real self Endeavor, and, to be honest, I don’t know if Hawks even has something under that mask of his anymore. He’s gone way too deep to complete his mission, even if he really was like that before, he definitely isn’t anymore.”- Hawks has layered masks, but underneath those masks is a genuine desire to help people. He’ll play whatever role he needs to to achieve that desire, but at the end of the day Hawks earnestly does want to save people and live in a society where people aren’t at risk from daily accidents and villain rampages. 

Letting Endeavour see that side of him- what’s closest to being the core’ of the actual Hawks- was probably what he was looking to achieve all along when he invited him out to that meeting that Hood attacked them at, so Endeavour would know there was something genuine underneath his ‘braggart’ persona that motivated all his actions. Sure, it was also to lure him into a showdown that he could use to bluff his way into the league with, but like any good spy, Hawks tries to achieve multiple objectives with every task he undertakes, so there’s always a backup option.

19) “Actually I think Hawks fits the Hanged man better Endeavor, he had the potential all along but he was deliberately avoiding to commit to change and- oh wait you were just calling him an idiot, sorry. “-

“The Hanged Man is the card of ultimate surrender, of being suspended in time and of martyrdom and sacrifice to the greater good.” And the Icarus parallels continue to mount…

20) ““Opposite of what I see… Oh, I See… the Message can only be revealed by looking at the book reflected on a mirror! Brilliant!” -Endeavor throughout the rest of the arc, while Midoriya saves the world, probably.”-

Endevour: (having spent 5 hours looking for ways to read the code, starting intently at the pages) Midoria: (Peeks over his shoulder) Oh, I know this one! It was featured in this book ‘codebreaking for kids’ that I read years ago! To solve it, what you do is- Endevour: (Flames up in supressed rage to the point his blood literally starts to boil)

21) “God fucking dammit- Alright, okay, hopefully until the end of the chapter he’ll get over Hawks acting weird. hopefully. You better not let the reveal of what the message was for next chapter Horikoshi…”- It might have been better if he had. We needed to end this chapter on some good news, not ‘we’re all gonna die’. @thelreads

#bnha #thelreads #chapter replies #my hero academia #mha245

[subtlereferencetomyinterests]

A Misplaced Imbalance of Fear

Ao3,   MasterPost

Relationships: Romantic Dukexiety, implied/minor Moceit (platonic or romantic)

From the power of my Art and my Shitposts comes This Fanfiction!!!

Warnings: Panic Attacks, Lots of Cursing, descriptions of gore (horror movies, it gets decently explicit so beware that), mild body horror (Remus is here and he Does Things Like That), Heavy Roman angst for a hot minute in the middle, making out (continuing my theme of remus-centric fics getting more ;3). They do some makeup and drink tea, baby. Mentions of picking one’s skin as an Anxious habit, and also ticking. Also stimming!!! nd sides 4 life bb. Also, a very brief alcohol mention (it’s soup).

Word Count: 6,553

God Fucking Fuck, Virgil was going to have a self-care day even if it killed him dead. Everybody else could do whatever overdramatic fuckery they wanted when they were topside, but he was all set down there in the Mindpalace, thank you very much.

Luckily, mercifully, thankfully, the rest of the sides all seemed keen to let Virgil have his space anyway. There wasn’t a thing stopping him from relaxing.

Well, except for himself, of course.

A thrum of condensed stress and fear tugged at Virgil’s abdomen, bubbling its way over his edges. It was equally his own and the others’, probably due to whatever conversation they were caught up in in the external world. He would not relent to the worry, nor was he summoned to help with the situation, but his body refused to stop shaking. Perched on the top of the couch, frantically clicking the buttons on a fidget cube, Virgil tried to watch the gore playing on the TV in a tired effort to calm his nerves.

Horror movies… helped. They were something for his brain to chew on for a while- their over-the-top and ridiculous plots, the obnoxious characters that almost always deserve what’s coming to them, the attention-attaining action- it was all a recipe for Distraction. But they weren’t working by that point, no matter how badly Virgil wanted them to.

And then- possibly because the universe loved to spite Virgil and Virgil specifically- a walking, talking headache flung himself into the common room about as elegantly as a wolfhound with rabies.

“Heyyyy,” Remus crowed as he sprawled himself out on the couch. Anxiety curled his legs closer under his body, unresponsive- he knew full well that any reaction would just be an invitation for trouble from the obnoxious trait. He’d remember what Logan taught them: don’t engage, just brush it all off.

Unfortunately, Remus seemed to be in a stubborn mood.

“Whatcha watching?” 

“Movie,” Virgil grumbled. 

“What movie?”

He eyed the side laying out on the couch below him, narrowing his gaze as threateningly as he could manage. He spat the words through gritted teeth and made it clear he was not having this today.

“It’s called Terrifier.”

Remus perked up at that, and oh God, if he was interested then he’d never go the fuck away.

“What’s it about?”

There wasn’t much Virgil could do but answer in as clipped a tone as he could; things hadn’t gotten too bad, too uncomfortable, yet. Maybe he could redirect Remus’ attention, if he was just boring and unresponsive enough?

“Just a cliche creepy clown flick. Not much to it.”

“Is it gory?” 

Virgil made a vaguely affirmative sound in his throat, gesturing to the screen. In truth, the movie’s impeccable special effects with gore was its main appeal, as the acting and plot was kinda atrocious. Violence was the exact reason he’d chosen to watch this. But he knew saying that wouldn’t help his chances of shaking off Intrusive Thoughts.

Remus looked ready to spout off something explicit, but he went dead quiet as his eyes fell on the scene on the television. Virgil was grateful for small mercies.

It was exactly the kind of thing that the creative trait would watch, after all; a woman getting sawed in half, lengthwise, starting from the- er, the wrong end. Under circumstances of a more typical anxious flare-up, the scene really could have been one of those ‘helpful distractions’. 

These were not normal circumstances.Yeah, this was one of those ‘too passive’ cases, but Virgil didn’t exactly have the energy for anything ‘active’. So, he stubbornly glared at the TV and pretended that his solution was working, because he had no idea what else to do. Perfect plan.

Preoccupied as he was with his internal issues, he very nearly managed to forget about Remus. Until-

“Holy fuck, this is gorgeous, you watch stuff like this?!” The Duke’s eyes were bright, but not with his usual hysteria. They were wide with genuine excitement, shiny and happy. It was- uncanny, that’s probably the word Virgil was looking for. He curled closer in on himself.

“Shouldn’t be that surprising, dude. ‘Scary’ is kind of my thing.”

“I can’t believe I haven’t seen this one,” the creative side was once again completely enamored by the television screen, “Don’t blood and guts and cool things like that freak you out? They always seem to do the trick when I try to mess with you!” 

“It’s different. The violence in movies, it- it calms me down, I guess. Cause it’s like, I don’t know, detached from reality?”

There was a pause that had Virgil hoping, naively, that Remus had grown bored at his spiel. But he wasn’t moving, he was just staring, gaze switching contemplatively from the screen to Virgil a few times over.

“It doesn’t look like that. If you were any more tense, all your tendons would be snapping like badly-tuned violin strings!” 

“Yeah, no shit,” Virgil pressed his back against the wall and shut his eyes tight. He could still hear- no, feel- Patton and Roman and Thomas arguing, snapping at each other back and forth as the situation escalated.

“Is this about whatever the others are doing? Why don’t you just stop listening to their shitty arguments?”

A harsh laugh escaped Virgil at that, dragging him back down to earth so he could blink his eyes open, glaring at the facet lying beneath him. 

“I can’t just stop, that’s not how I work. I need to keep an ear on them. Who knows what could happen if I didn’t?”

“Well, why don’t you just go talk to them?”

If he wasn’t already frustrated beyond belief, that would’ve fuckin’ done it for him.

“I don’t think I’d be much help. Not right now.”

“Why not?” Remus looked halfway between genuinely curious and mischievous, propping himself up on his elbows to get a better view of Anxiety.

“Seriously? Things aren’t exactly, like- normal between all of us.”

“What is normal?” 

Virgil opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came through. As much as it sounded like an offhanded, edgy 13-year-old atheist kind of remark, it was a decent point. Virgil had thought that there was something of a status quo forming between himself and the ‘light sides’, but how long had that even lasted for? Especially compared to the rest of his life? Everything was changing all the time. Was there anything to rely on, or was it just Virgil’s own wishful thinking for what their lives could be? After all, even in ‘peaceful times’, there had been plenty of in-fighting and disagreements and horrible uncomfortable conversations and harsh words and-

“Oh, shut that brain up,” Remus’ sharp voice pulled Virgil from his thoughts, “I know what you meant ‘normal’. You meant the six months when you got to forget about us Scary Monsters, and, DUH! It was probably way simpler for all you diet-soda-no-sugar sluts back then, but that doesn’t mean it was better.”

“Yeah, you would think that things are better now, wouldn’t you?”

Remus fixed Virgil with an unsettling sort of grimace, making the other squirm. It wasn’t the first time he’d done so by any means. 

“I dunno, but what I do know is that things are getting better. They’ll be the best they could be, soon.”

Despite himself, Virgil laughed. It was a faltering, anxious sound, revealing the true fear behind the taunting gesture.

“Really? With everybody at each other’s throats all the time?”

“While that does sound fun,” Remus sat up fully, twisting around to look directly up at Virgil, “I mean after that. After we’re all accepted. It’s inevitable- Inevitable, Anxious Lil’ Barista,” Remus accompanied the referential nickname with a wink. 

Virgil stared at him like he was crazy (well- like- crazier than usual, he guessed?). Remus just threw his head back and laughed before spinning his neck one-hundred and eighty degrees to face the TV while he explained.

“Point is, it’s painfully obvious that everything will sort itself out. It has to, or else the only other option is that Thomas is gonna drive himself insane by trying to suppress parts of himself and end up clawing his own brain out. One of those two things!”

While colorfully phrased, the certainty with which Remus delivered his point had Virgil taken aback. There was no way that Remus could possibly know that, but- in a backwards way it was comforting, how sure he sounded. He didn’t lie, not ever.

Virgil had never thought that Remus would settle for anything less than going out of his way to make others’ lives a hell. But maybe that antagonism wasn’t what exactly motivated the trait’s actions. Maybe it was just an unintentional side effect, akin to what Logan had said when Remus first revealed himself.

The moment of reprieve was over as soon as it began.

“Fuck! He just cut off her tits and wore ‘em, huh?” 

Virgil looked up and, to be fair, that was exactly what had happened on screen. Like he said, this movie wasn’t exactly poetic cinema, but it certainly was something. 

He scooted along the top of the couch, moving just a few feet before dropping down to sit properly beside Remus.

“3/10 drag look at best, really,” Virgil muttered, mostly to himself. He jumped when Remus shrieked with laughter at it, looking absolutely delighted. 

“I didn’t know you made jokes like that, VeeVee!”

Virgil shrugged noncommittally, focusing on the screen and not the facet beside him. Remus’ giggling was loud and distracting, but it wasn’t… unpleasant, unlike his typical villain-cackle was. 

Once Remus had settled down (as much as somebody like him could, anyway), he, too, focused on watching. The quiet was uncomfortable, but it didn’t stretch on for long. There was always something in the movie that The Duke felt the need to comment upon extensively, elaborating and giving details on the gore. Virgil found himself listening to the rants silently, almost enjoying the disruption. It certainly gave his overactive mind something to play around with.

“-skin doesn’t slice as easy as that, trust me-”

Aaaand there it was. Virgil winced, trying very hard not to show that the words had struck a nerve. He liked horror, gore, all that, sure, but there were just some specific things- squicks, you could call them. Remus would obviously use that to his advantage, so the only option was to try very hard to zone out and not look like he was disturbed.

“But even then- Hey, why are you making that face?”

Mission failed.

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Remus shifted closer- invasively closer, his gaze studying. 

“You were calming down earlier, what's with the scrunch-nose?”

Virgil stared at his hands, chipping away his black nail polish. Remus was nearly as good at reading lies as Janus, and twice as hard to get rid of.

“It's just- skin, slicing, that stuff just-” he ticked, head spasming sideways briefly at even the thought of that kind of pain.

“Oh,” Remus said plainly, not even a hint of malice or mischief in his tone as he leaned back into his own spot, “Why didn't you just say so? Well, that last exploding head kill is way more interesting anyway, did you see that?”

That was… it? No taunting, no tormenting, he just changed the topic, like that? 

Remus, continuing to be weirdly perceptive, scoffed as though he was reading Virgil’s mind.

“What? Just because I like screwing with you prudes sometimes doesn't mean I want to give you a panic attack. Where's the fun in that?”

Anxiety nodded mutely, bewildered. Remus seemed appeased by that and quickly resumed his running commentary.

And if Virgil eventually decided to take part in the discussion, well, it wasn’t a big deal anyway. Just some polite conversation about bodily mutilation.

 The television darkened as the screen was washed by credits, filling the space where the disfigured face of the main character had been mere moments prior, the result of a pretty predictable twist ending. Virgil stood, arching his back up in a stretch. His arms raised higher, one joint or another crackling at the motion. Fuck, he was sore. How long had he been sitting still?

Remus hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch. He tapped his claws along the remote, exiting to the homescreen and looking expectantly at Virgil.

“You don't wanna watch anything else?” He asked abruptly, drawing a confused glance from his companion, “This is fun- and they're still arguing up there, so it kinda makes sense to stay, it’s really the best solution if you-”

Virgil huffed a laugh at the rambling. It sounded like some shit he’d say, for crying out loud.

“Dude, chill, I was just gonna make some tea before putting on another movie,” the clear relief that ran across Remus' face- quickly replaced by a wide grin- wasn't anything shy of… sweet. Virgil was sure this day couldn't get any fucking weirder, if he was finding anything endearing about the walking talking dirty joke before him. “Uh, you want anything? Since you're gonna stick around, and all.”

Remus jumped up, following Virgil into the MindPalace’s small kitchen happily. In one smooth motion, he swung up onto the counter and slid down it, seating himself almost on top of the stove.

“No hot leaf soup for me, thanks, but I will take one of those mugs!”

Virgil raised a brow, staring the creative trait down before shrugging. He passed him one of the mugs, a generic and patternless one- so that the other sides probably wouldn't notice its absence. He busied himself by setting up the kettle, trying not to wince at the loud wet crunch that resulted when Remus took a bite of his snack.

“Hey,” Remus said around a mouthful of ceramic chunks, “I know just the movie we should watch next.”

Virgil shifted around the various tea boxes littering the cabinets, searching for something with a kick. He hazarded a glance to Remus, immediately regretting the decision when he saw the blood dribbling down his chin from the cuts marring his lips. Anxiety cringed, turning his head back and grabbing for the first brightly-colored box he saw. It took him a moment to respond.

“Okay… what is it?” 

“It's awful- I mean, really, the acting is unbearable and it’s fucking insane- but it's funny. You like making fun of stuff, right? It's like that, but there's still a ton of agonizing death, which is always a fun bonus.”

“What's it about?” Virgil was hesitantly intrigued, his gaze flicking up from the steadily heating kettle. He wasn't exactly keen on staring down the gory scene of Remus’ mouth, so he settled his focus on the trait’s eyeball brooch. 

“Uhn-uhn! No spoilers, this is one you have to see for yourself. It's funnier that way.”

Virgil made a noncommittal sound, tapping his nails against the counters.

“Nothing too bad happens- not that you can't handle, anyway. No slicing and not many jumpscares.”

He resisted the urge to snap 'how do you know what I can’t handle?' because Remus actively trying to reassure him was. Something. Something that he appreciated, maybe, a little.

“Okay, fine. I didn't have anything else in mind. A ‘So-Bad-It’s-Good’ thing sounds alright.”

The obnoxious gnawing of Remus destroying what was left of his cup suddenly ceased, replaced by a stunned silence. Virgil finally met his eyes (finding that the lacerations around Remus’ mouth were already healing themselves, as if they'd never existed).

“You’re taking my suggestion?”

Virgil cleared his throat, finding himself unable to break the intense eye-contact now that it had been established.

“It's not a big deal or anything, man. Just a movie.” 

Remus nodded enthusiastically, a grin splitting his face ear-to-ear. Very literally. The expression was so unnatural and cartoonish on a human(ish) face, that Virgil couldn't help but be startled into laughter. Remus looked even more delighted at that reaction, leaning forward over the stove. At that point, Virgil very much couldn't suppress the noises, snorts bubbling up from his throat against his will.

“You look-” another bout of chuckling, “-you look ridiculous, Remus.”

“Aw, thank you! I was going for manic, but I'll settle for that, too.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, hunching in on himself to get his breathing back to normal. 

With no warning, Remus lifted himself up onto his knees and craned his body around the vigilant trait, snatching the kettle from the stove and flipping the dial to ‘off’. Instinctively, Anxiety recoiled from the proximity. The tension fell away when he saw that the other was simply pouring the hot water into Virgil’s mug for him.

“Dude, it wasn't whistling yet?”

“I know; it was hissing like it was about to start. You're boring and don't like loud noises, especially when you’re all on edge like this, so,” he set the kettle back down, passing the warm mug to Virgil. 

Virgil stared at him, then at the drink in his hand, then back up at the Duke. He was, for what felt like the millionth time that day, unsure of how to react.

He… really hadn't thought that Remus would pick up on stuff like that. He should probably start getting used to that, maybe.

“I'm-” Virgil dragged his finger up and down the handle of his mug, “I'm not that on edge anymore, actually.”

The look that Remus sent him was indecipherable. 

“C’mon, I’ll queue up that flick I told you about.”

“Yeah,” Virgil let out a deep breath, one he hadn't even known he'd been holding, “Yeah, okay.”

 The floor was bubbling, popping, blistering with red fury. It was lava, sending bright flaming sparks in all directions. Thankfully for Remus and Virgil, sitting close together on the couch and viciously mocking cabin fever, the vicious rage was exclusive to one small circle near the staircase.

Virgil, who had been happily tearing apart the leading guy’s acting, cut himself off abruptly.

“Shit- wait- shit.”

Remus shook himself out of his raucous laughter, looking up in confusion. His eyes finally settled on the crimson patch of carpet, a look of realization crossing them. His voice turned much quieter than what fit him.

“Oh, fuck.”

It was like a volcanic eruption localized entirely within the living room, fire blazing in a tall column. From the emotional display, Roman rose up, face nearly as red as his method of transportation. 

There was that brief moment, right when a stressful situation appeared, of antithetical serenity. Virgil felt his muscles slacken in shock, his long-empty mug falling from his hands and landing on the carpet with a dull thud. A rush of calmness hollowed out his chest, lingering for just a few seconds before being replaced by panic. Tension returned to his limbs mere moments after that, like it was pulling him taut.

Roman wasn't even looking at them- in fact, he hadn't seemed to notice his brother or best friend at all. The fire fell back down, leaving a charred patch of carpet that would likely take a long time to repair itself. The passionate trait growled, a sound that bordered on a scream as he clawed his hands down his face. He stamped his boot sharply against the ground, igniting another small fire with the impact.

“Fuck!” He cried, ever oblivious to his audience. With a hasty wave, the flames flickered and disappeared. Roman glared down at the blackened spot where it had been, winding his arms tightly around himself. He took a few shaky breaths, but if anything he only looked worse off for it.

“Fuck,” this time spoken quieter, but with no less vitriol. An immaculately-manicured hand raised itself to cover his mouth, tightening around his face desperately as tears slipped from his eyes down his fingers. He turned on his heel and took the stairs two at a time.

In his wake, as the television had been paused, the only thing that Virgil could hear was buzzing in his skull.

What had happened? What was happening, currently?! Things had gone so wrong and it was all because of Virgil’s negligence- what bad things could have been prevented if he had just been there? Or- or even just listening in! When had he even stopped listening? He was supposed to protect them but he just gave up, just because he ‘couldn't handle it’, and now something was Wrong with Roman and he couldn't even focus on listening to them all now, not like this. He couldn’t hear, couldn’t hear or see anything at all.

A rough, calloused hand wrapped around his wrist. Virgil's shallow breath staggered even more at the feeling, the warbly noise of speech failing to meet his ears. His eyes were closed tight, he realized, stinging with emotion behind his eyelids.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Four seconds, four strikingly gentle presses against the vein of Virgil’s wrist. If it weren't for the slight edge of a claw, he could've confused the motion for one of Patton’s.

The four taps were followed by a brief pause, then a steady round of seven taps. Another pause, and then eight. As Virgil focused, as much as he could anyway, on the presses, the screaming of his mind very gradually abated. First, he pried his eyes open, staring down at the hand around his arm. Watching the tapping, feeling it, was grounding enough for his hearing to return in time. Virgil could hear Remus beside him, breathing deeply as a guide, and copying the exercise became that much easier. In for four, hold  for seven, out for eight. Repeat. And repeat. And repeat.

Remus didn't stop when Virgil did it properly one time over, when he was still shaking and teary. He didn't speak up even when the well behind Anxiety's eyes ran dry, after what had to be a dozen rounds of even breaths. It was only when Virgil finally, hesitantly slipped his wrist out of the other's grasp on his own terms that Remus made any sounds.

“Do you remember when you taught me to do makeup? Late teens, early twenties, around then?”

Talk about a topic shift. Virgil glanced up in confusion.

“I guess so? Wasn't that, like, the only time that we hung out and actually got along?” They’d never exactly been close, Virgil had made sure of that. It was, in retrospect, a regrettable decision on his part.

“Yeah. I was so bad at it, remember?”

“Hell yes, I remember,” Virgil felt a tiny smirk tug his lips at the memory, “You literally never sat still. You were and are the most impatient person I've ever met.”

“I’ve gotten a lot better, Vee.”

Virgil glanced at the bruise-like eyeshadow circling the Duke's eyes, but refrained from saying anything. Knowing him (kind of knowing him? Starting to know him better now? Whatever.) it was most definitely intentionally off-putting, and probably not a good way to judge his actual ability.

“But I’ve seen how you do it, when you really, really try; I think you're still better than me with it, ju-u-ust barely.”

“Oh, uh, thank you,” Virgil wasn't entirely sure where this was going, but he couldn't find the soft excitement in Remus’ eyes anything other than enticing. The creative side laughed, flapping his hand.

“It would be fun if you did it for me again! Just like old times, ey?”

Virgil stared at him, considering him carefully.

“You want me to do your makeup?” 

“Yes!” Remus leaned forward with his confirmation, but for once that didn't involve violating Virgil’s post-panic attack bubble, “It'll give you something to do with your hands other than peeling back all your skin, at the very least.”

Oh, right. Virgil not-so-subtly lifted his nails from his palms, wincing at the irritated red spots coloring his hands.

Truth be told, the idea wasn't… unappealing. It was an activity well between mindless and active, repetitive and artistic. Plus, he didn't exactly love being alone after attacks, and if anything Remus would be lively company. Company that he sort of, maybe, possibly was looking forward to spending the rest of the day with anyway, unfortunate events notwithstanding.

“Yeah, alright, if you're sure you want-”

“Great! Wait right there, bee-arh-bee,” before the words were even fully out of his mouth, Remus went limp and fell sideways off of the couch, falling right through the floor. 

In his absence, there was a void where his noise had been. Virgil stared at the paused movie scene, picking apart the little details of the frame just to have something to do. His mind drifted off to the state that Roman had been in when he entered. The sight of his friend so furious burned itself on the backs of Virgil’s eyelids. He knew that the anxiety wasn't all his own, either; he could feel it like waves from the other side of the MindPalace, the origin point clearly belonging to Roman.

He should check on him, shouldn't he? Or would that make it worse? Virgil certainly didn't feel like he was in any state to help. But then there was Patton to consider- something must have happened up there. Should he look for him, too?

There was a whoosh.

“I leave you alone for five seconds and you get right back to thinking!” Remus strode across the room, flopping right back onto the couch. Held in his arms was an enormous multi-pocketed bag, items clattering around within at every jostle their owner made.

“Overthinking is literally my whole job, man, this shouldn't surprise you,” Virgil shrugged, trying not to sound as relieved as he felt.

Remus simply rolled his eyes and dropped the makeup case onto Virgil's lap, sitting criss-cross parallel to him, their knees brushing slightly.

Virgil hesitated for a moment, scanning Remus' face, but all the other did was smile and blink (one eye at a time). 

Virgil zipped open the bag, rifling through and finding an overwhelming array of gaudy colors and odd products.

“Was there, like, a 'look' that you want to go for?”

Remus shrugged.

“Just go for it! I’m a blank canvas. The worse, the better.”

Virgil chuckled, picking out a few items to fit a theme he was coming up with and getting right to work.

Though it had been years since they’d last spent time together, it wasn’t awkward. In fact, it felt more comfortable than it had back then.

Remus managed to sit almost perfectly still, chattering the entire time that Virgil worked. Yet again his voice served as something like white-noise, wherein Anxiety only had to contribute whenever he chose. Remus only quieted when Virgil had to hold his face, tipping his head back to properly apply inky-black lipstick. And then, he remained silent for a moment, as they surveyed each other. 

Virgil had cleared his throat, warmth prickling at his ears, and the ceaseless rambling resumed after that.

In what felt like hours and no time at all, Virgil was finally satisfied with his work.

“Alright, you're all done,” he capped the bottle of mascara in his hand, rifling through Remus' bag for a mirror, “Wanna see?” 

Just as he felt the unmistakable cool surface of glass on his fingertips, Remus grabbed his wrist in both hands. 

“What-?”

“Not so fast! Now it's my turn,” he announced, his zealous eyes even more prominent on his face thanks to the thick wings of eyeliner around them. 

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Virgil looked from the assortment of garish colors that he'd mostly stayed away from in the makeup case, and then back up at the Duke.

“Usually: yes. But I am dead serious right now, Vee.”

Remus looked pleading, legitimately pouting. 

Virgil huffed. The side had gone out of his way to help him, when he really didn't have to, so…

“You're not going to just use this as an excuse to draw all over my face, are you?”

“I mean, no promises that I'll be able to restrain myself, but! Gimme a chance anyway, I can make you even hotter than you already are! Plus, we'll match then.”

“... Fine. Just- nothing too crazy, alright?”

“Again, no promises.”

Virgil groaned, but he still passed the bag to Remus.

 “Holy shit...”

Remus leaned over the basin of the bathroom sink, drumming his hands on the counter excitedly. He was starry-eyed as he observed the dark, dramatic colors covering his face: metallic emerald-green eyeshadow, excessively long lashes, and winged eyeliner sharp enough to cut a bitch. His lips were black as void, but shimmered like glitter. Everything about the look was dangerous, confrontational, and grim. 

“This is more out there than I’d usually wear, but. Yeah, holy shit.”

Virgil's expression, despite his best efforts, was equally awed as he peered into the mirror. The color around his eyes was mismatched; a lime to moss green gradient over his purple eye, lavender to royal violet over his green one- both colors contrasted by smudged black eyeliner under his eye. His signature Racoon Look had been maintained in that aspect, but it was even more exaggerated. In addition to that, Remus had taken to drawing various little symbols along Virgil's cheekbones, including things like upside-down crosses. Finally, there was the fuchsia lip-gloss, stark against Virgil’s paler-than-normal foundation. 

“It’s okay, I guess,” Virgil breathed reverently. 

“I love it!” Remus crowed, clambering onto the counter just to get a better look at himself. Somehow, he'd already managed to smudge the hell out of his eyeshadow, but it kinda… worked for him, if Virgil was being honest.

“Vee, we have got to do this more often!”

Virgil looked from his reflection to Remus', startled in a way he didn't entirely understand. The intrusive facet met his gaze through the mirror, the smile sliding off his face when Virgil didn’t respond to him.

“Right, Raggedy-Anx? It doesn't have to be this, specifically, if you really don't want to. We could just watch movies together, that's fine. Or we could do anything at all! Right?”

Virgil was still silent, lost in his mind. Remus fell from a kneeling position to sitting with his legs hanging off the counter, turning his back to the mirror.

“Was this a one-time thing? That's alright, too, if you just needed help calming down. I'm not as good as the others, I know, but if they're ever too busy again, you'll think of me when you need help, at least. Right?”

Finally, Virgil snapped out of his daze when he heard the panicked edge to Remus’ voice, feeling his anxiety as Virgil noticed the wild look that had completely erased his giddiness. It was a look that Virgil had seen plenty of times before, when Remus had been ignored far too long and was right about to start ripping things to shreds for some scraps of attention. Only then did Virgil fully recognize what the expression actually meant; the deep, terrified need that swirled behind the look, unsure of how to ask for what it really wanted after so many denials of that very want. 

“Shit, sorry,” Virgil moved to stand in front of him, eye-level to Remus even though he was elevated by the counter, “Hey, it's alright, Re, everything's fine.”

Remus was still trying very determinedly to smile.

“I know! Hell, I’m not the anxious one, I'm the one that makes people anxious,” his laugh sounded like it came from a throat full of broken glass, “I just- I liked this, ya know?”

“I know,” Virgil leaned forward, coaxing Remus' arms away from where he'd wrapped them around himself, “I like this, too.”

Remus let Virgil hold onto him, surprised into something like obedience.

“You? What?”

“I like this,” it wasn't as though Virgil was expecting to hug Remus, but it seemed to have happened on its own as they moved. It was leagues nicer than he could have imagined, despite the smell. “I like you…-r company.”

“That's weird,” Remus' legs curled around Virgil’s waist. Virgil rested his hands on Remus’ hips. He listened as the creative trait's breathing evened out, vaguely aware that the situation was similar to the one just an hour or so before. Except, the roles had been reversed, of course.

“I missed you. I know I never told you, but I missed you.”

Virgil felt guilt, hot and molten, dripping down his throat. He couldn't lie; he hadn't missed Remus when he left. But now he did, in a roundabout sort of way. He missed what could have been, all of the possible understanding and friendship and likely more that he could have had for so long with Remus- all of which he'd let slip by for years. Due to just writing the artist off as disgusting, or unnecessary. 

And perhaps some of that misunderstanding was Remus' fault as well, but Virgil couldn’t find it in himself to hold it against him.

“You don't have to anymore. Miss me, I mean. I'm- fuck, I'm so sorry.”

“Me too,” Remus said, pulling back to settle Virgil with a happy-yet-tearfilled gaze.

“Aw, hey,” he tightened his grip at Remus' hips, smirking, “You're gonna fuck up all my hard work on that eyeliner, Re.”

Remus laughed, loud and shrieky and him, smiling unnaturally and brilliantly wide once again. Virgil's breath caught in his throat- not for the first time that day, he found himself trapped up in that wild, energetic face.

Before Virgil was entirely aware of what he was doing, he was leaning forward, pulling Remus in by the waist. When the cackling finally stopped short, so did he, both much too far and far too close to the Duke. 

He didn't have the chance to explain himself, or apologize, or anything, because soon enough understanding flashed in Remus' eyes.

“Oh, oh yes, oh hell fucking yes.” 

Remus didn’t wait a second longer before closing the distance and smashing his lips against Virgil’s. A startled sound bubbled up in his throat, dying quickly as he acclimated to what was happening. Just as he did, he was reciprocating the kiss. 

Their teeth clashed together uncomfortably, and Virgil was hyper-aware of the threat both his own and Remus’ fangs posed if they weren’t careful, making it far from the perfect first kiss. But he wouldn’t have wanted that anyway, nor would he have expected it. It was, somehow, better. 

Remus' hand dragged down Virgil's back, his fingers fitting onto the notches of the facet’s spine. Virgil shivered, pressing himself flush against the counter (and Remus) and digging his thumbs into the trait’s hips. The motion earned him a beautiful whine from the other as the kiss deepened, growing less awkward and more heated by the second.

Virgil was unaware of how much time was passing, but when they finally parted, both were short of breath and significantly disheveled. Remus had his back pressed up against the mirror, his hair even fuzzier than its usual state, expression dazed and face flushed. From what Virgil could make out in his own reflection, he wasn't much better off. 

Just as soon as they'd separated, Remus' hand was on his face, his thumb dragging just under Anxiety's lip.

“You fucked up your lipstick,” he teased.

“So did you,” Virgil answered with a smirk, leaning into the touch. 

“I guess we'll have to fix it later.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Remus wriggled himself out of his pinned position, twisting around Virgil. He managed to situate himself and drop down from the bathroom counter, his manner suggestive, “Because all I wanna do right now is finish watching Cabin Fever with my new goth boyfriend and makeout during the boring parts.”

“Boyfriend?” Virgil ignored the jolt of warmth he felt at that, determined to stay nonchalant as he (subtly (not subtly)) slipped his hand into Remus’.

“You disagree?” 

Virgil pretended to think it over, leading them to the door and taking his time to click it open. 

“Nah, I don’t disagree,” he said finally, “I think I like the sound of that, actuall- yyyy.”

Virgil stopped short in the open doorway, voice dragging out in his shock. Behind him, he could feel Remus trying to crane around him to see what was happening, but Virgil didn’t move to accommodate him. Well, more accurately, he felt like he couldn’t really move at all, too busy parsing out the scene in front of him.

In the corner of the sectional- sharing a cushion- Janus and Patton sat, the former holding aloft a glass of wine, the latter snacking on a muffin. They sat with their legs tangled together, and had seemed to be engrossed with each other before the interruption. Both had paused mid-conversation to gawk in Virgil's direction, twin deer-in-headlights expressions on their faces. 

“What-” Virgil began, bewildered.

“The fuck?” Remus finished, pushing his way out of the bathroom.

Janus struggled to sit up into a more dignified position and take the reigns of the conversation. It didn't take him long to overcome his surprise at the interruption, his surveying gaze sweeping over the other two Dark Sides contemplatively. The look made Virgil’s skin crawl. 

“You know, we- well, we could ask you two-” he gestured at their interlocked hands, “-just the same question, couldn't we?” 

For a moment, there was silence. Virgil looked from Patton to Janus. Janus looked from Virgil to Remus. Patton looked at the wall like it was the most interesting thing in the world. Remus looked at everyone and broke the silence.

“You didn't see us,” he announced, sidestepping his way to the staircase and dragging Virgil along with him, “And we didn't see you.” 

Janus squinted, tipped his head, and nodded conspiratorially. 

“Deal.”

With that little grant, Virgil and Remus darted up the stairs and into the sanctuary of the dimly lit hallway as quickly as they could. Luckily for them, Roman was probably either in a deep depression sleep or far into the imagination by now, and Logan Did Not Engage with Interpersonal Drama if he could help it. 

There was a second for appreciating the absurdity of the situation (and catching their breath), before either spoke to each other.

“I’ve got a huge flat screen,” Remus piped up at last, jerking his thumb in the direction of his room. 

“Any of us can conjure literally anything we want at any time, so I'm not sure what's impressive about that.”

Remus scowled, albeit playfully.

“Hush! Come watch someone slowly be consumed by a parasite with me!”

Virgil rolled his eyes and let Remus drag him off, his complaints accompanied by absolutely no efforts to avoid the situation. 

Things were weird, there was no denying that. Maybe they'd end up being that way for a while yet, and Virgil knew he had a lot of news to catch up on, but he found that thoughts like that were way back in his mind. Whatever happened, he reasoned, he would still have this comfort. The arms of someone he was finally coming to know wrapped tight around him, playing up his back, a mouth trailing kisses on his neck as he half-watched horror films. Yes, things would be difficult with the others, but it was secondary.

There was someone on his side now. Solidly, unarguably there for him. With him. And that made it all feel a little bit easier.

#dukexiety #intruxiety #sanders sides #ts #virgil #remus #fanfiction #fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #my writing #ts fanfic #ts fanfiction #tss #virgil sanders #remus sanders #romantic dukexiety #hurt/comfort #as usual amirite #swearing tw #so much swearing oh my god #gore descriptions #anxiety #nd headcanons #catch the references btw #by that i mean remus' ceramic consumption is a direct nod to the horror film oculus

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Proper Profanity.”

WARNING: Obviously this contains a lot of profanity, lol duh :) 

Hopefully it’s at least entertaining

Dr Krill was cleaning the infirmary.. He didn’t mind cleaning, it left his mind time to wander, to think more about the humans. Today he was thinking about linguistics and the complicated way in which humans spoke to each other. It was actually quite beautiful once you stopped being annoyed with it.

He had recently compiled a list of human idioms he found rather delightful. He especially liked ‘when I am ice skating in hell’ not only did it require knowledge of human theology, but also of human sports. Plus it was a great way to tell people no.

Made him want to wriggle a little inside when he thought about it.

Now that he had gotten the use of idioms. He was starting to think about the use of human exclamations. There were so many, he hardly knew where to start.

He was so distracted with his musings that he ended up knocking over a stack of bedpans. They fell to the floor with a clatter before spinning across the open ground.

He looked down and decided that this was the perfect opportunity to try out some of his new exclamations. He wasn’t entirely sure how they worked, but you didn’t get anywhere without trying, “Shit hat!”

He stared at the bedpans trying to determine what he was feeling at the moment.

He didn’t have long for his pondering as Dr. Katie poked her head out of her office. Behind her large square glasses she looked more than a little confused. Another head peered around the corner, and he was surprised to find the captain staring at him with a bemused expression. The door to the far end of the room slid open and a group of marines peered inside.

Hmm, perhaps he had done something wrong.

“Did you just say, shit hat?” Dr Katie wondered glancing between him and the captain.

“That’s what I heard.” he said stepping out from inside.

“Did I do something wrong?” krill wondered in bemusement.

The marines laughed, “What were you even trying to do/”

“I was trying to use an angry exclamation.” The doctor explained 

The captain walked over to sit on the edge of one of the beds staring at Krill with a critical eye, “Well, it was a good effort, but not exactly right.”

“What do you mean.”

The marines walked in to sit with them as did doctor Katie.

The captain shook his head, “Well Krill, you see cursing is a very delicate art, you can’t just throw them together like that. For instance what you were trying to say was likely either ust shit, or ass hat. You can’t just throw them together. Shit would have worked, but in this instance ass hat wouldn’t have.” 

“I do not understand.”

The captain cracked his knuckles, “I will demonstrate, let us first begin with the word ass

Ass/arse = your pretty much just calling them a donkey at this point

Ass hat = refers to a person who is usually stupid or annoying 

Ass wipe = a general insult for someone you don’t like 

Dumbass = an idiot

Asshole = someone who is mean or rude 

Smartass = can be a term of endearment, but otherwise it might be used as a term for someone who is sarcastic or a know it all 

Fatass = someone who eats a lot or is also fat 

Ass face = another general insult, but this is specifically an insult and a comparison on their face to someone’s butt.

So what you were doing doesn't exactly work because you  use ass hat is an insult for a person and not an exclamation.” 

He looked around at the others to make sure they agreed with him before continuing, “our next word is damn.

Damn = can be used as an exclamation of anger in general.

Daaaaaaaaammmnnn = is for general awe, like if I saw someone do something really cool.

Damnit = another exclamation of anger generally a bit higher than just damn 

God Damn it = is just a little higher than the previous two, but implies that you want the creator himself to come down and damn the thing that you are cursing.

As a general side note, you can use damn for inanimate objects.

Damn you = is similar but usually directed towards a person. The equivalent of telling someone to go to hell or flipping them the bird. 

Damn it all = We ramp it up a bit here. You just don’t want to damn the object, but you want to damn everything.

Damn it all to hell = see previous but more specific 

Hot Damn! = this is another good exclamation. You just saw something really cool or someone who is really hot, or something that you really want.

I don’t give a damn = is the fancy way of saying I don’t care.

Are you following me so far?”

Krill nodded eagerly doing his best to remember all of this on such short notice.

“Good, now we get onto another one which I am slightly less familiar but I will try

Bitch = used to mean a female dog, but now sort of means someone who is a coward or pathetic in some way.

Bitching = to complain 

Bitch ass = not entirely sure, but if i say to get your bitch ass over here, I don’t have respect for you, though it is often used as a term of endearment between women 

Bitchboy = calling someones masculinity into question

“Ok now we get to my favorite word shit, so beautifully versatile, but it means that you have to be careful because each one has a different connotation.

The noun Shit = literally means excrement but can be used as an exclamation of displeasure. It can also replace stuff or things. Like where’s my shit

To shit = a verb means to take a dump

The adjective shitty = means something really sucks

See, a little more versatile than before, now.

Shitter = a toilet or the location where the verb takes place

A shit = is exactly what it sounds like.

To take a shit = is the same as the verb 

I don’t give a shit = I don't care kind of like I don’t give a damn

I won't take this shit = means I am not going to put up with you 

Bullshit = information, generally a lie or something that is conflated or untrue 

Batshit = is a modifier to someone who is insane, it generally means they are really crazy

Shitthole = a place that is really horrible or dirty 

Shitstain = general insult for a person you hate

Shithead = see above

Shitfaced = really drunk

The shit = something or someone that is really good

Hot shit= same as the shit

You think you’re hot shit? = generally a challenge to someone who needs to get off their high horse.

A piece of shit = means you suck or your a lowlife 

Shitload = a lot of 

To lose your shit = to go crazy or get really mad

To be on someone’s shit list = means they don’t like you

My shit = it's mine my stuff my property

Your shit = your problems and I don’t want them 

Add an animal in the front  like chicken or horse to denote a situation or information that you don’t like. This is horse shit for example.

Shit hits the fan = things get real 

Shoot the shit = to talk with someone on a social level 

He knows his shit = means he’s smart on a certain topic 

You don’t know shit = you don’t know anything

To give someone shit = you .”mess with them or to give them a hard time

Dipshit = an idiot

I am honestly cutting back on the amount of uses in this situation because if we continued this, it might go on too long.

Kril leaned in a little, “how fascinating. I had no idea one word could be so diverse.”

The human leaned in, “Than you are going to love this next one 

Fuck = sort of an upper escalation of shit. I don't know if the noun means anything really but the verb technically means to do it.

Fuck that = I am not going to do that there is no way in hell 

Fuck you = I hate you go die 

Fuck it = might as well just do this thing regardless of the consequences 

Fuck me = an exclamation of annoyance. Kind of like how could my life get any worse. Generally used when things aren't going your way. Of course you could use it in it’s literal translation as a command form or a question.

Fuck it all = another exclamation kind of like damn it all 

Fuck this shit = generally a screw this thing or activity specifically 

Fuck this = see above but less intense 

Fuckery = like what kind of fuckery is this. A question used to ask about some sort of unsavory activity.

Fuck off = telling someone to leave or go away angrily.

Fucnking hell = just an exclamation

Fucking shit = also just an exclamation

Generally you can put fucking in front of any other curse word noun and you got yourself a good insult hell, damn et. etc 

Fuckwit = an idiot

Fuckface = general insult like shithead 

I dont give a fuck = i dont care

I dont give a flying fuck = i really don’t care

Thats fucked = that is screwed up 

Hes fucked = hes screwed as in a situation specifically

Lets get fucked up = lets go get drunk or high

Lets fuck him up = lets beat him up 

Well…. Fuck = an exclamation of distress 

A fuck ton = larger than a shitload 

If you get fucked over = you’ve been used or betrayed 

And the classic a motherfucker = sort of just a general term for someone, but I  want to say it definitely implies someone is having sex with their mom

Fucktard = an idiot. 

Krill looked on in fascination and delight, “Holy shit!”

The captain blinked and then grinned, “There you go, now you're getting it. Totally forgot about that one.” He patted Krill on the back, “Now go forth, be free in your newfound knowledge and the glorious art that is cursing properly. Make sure not to use it too much though or in certain types of company because it will either cause you problems or lose it’s power. Like for instance, don’t curse around my mother or she will kill me for teaching you. Don’t curse around superior officers unless they curse first, and even then try to avoid doing it too much. Got it.”

Krill nodded.

He was so excited to apply this new rule of human language

#earth is a deathworld #Earth is space Ausralia #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are space oddities

[scmsdivinecultists]

A Day in the Department of Fuckery

Warnings: Occasional curse word and tons of crack.

Written by Admin Karebear

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

It was a peaceful morning within the palace of the heavens. Although powerful beings such as gods did not need sleep, many retired to their private rooms when the sun set and spent quiet time with their families or lovers. The sun was half-way above the horizon now, painting the endless sky a shade of beautiful orange. Most of the gods who lived in the palace had yet to leave their rooms and begin work, but unfortunately, duty called for some at this hour.

“Who the fuck thought this was a good idea?” Teresa complained, dragging her feet down the empty hallway.

“Zyglavis.” Kare replied, turning her head left so she could look at her companion. “Apparently he requested to have the meeting at this time.”

“Who the heck approved it?”

“The king.”

Teresa groaned. “Of course he did. Probably wants to see me suffer.”

Kare smirked. “Well, our job is to amuse him.”

Teresa, the Goddess of Equality, had long black hair, dark eyes and wore eyeglasses for style. She served as the minister for the Department of Fuckery. Kare, the Goddess of Peace, also wore a pair of glasses in front of her brown eyes, though her hair was berry purple and stopped on top of her shoulders. Kare was chosen as the vice-minister for the new department.

The Department of Fuckery was created not long ago by the King of the Heavens. His Highness felt that the palace had grown too dull and was growing quite bored of his old tricks. So, by creating a new department with some of the most chaotic goddesses in the heavens, the king had found a new way to toy with the gods in Wishes and Punishments.

Reaching the large door at the end of the hall, the goddesses went in. On the other side was a grand room held for meetings between all three departments. As expected, the minister and vice-minister of Punishments were already inside.

“Good morning gentlemen.” Kare greeted the men upon entry.

“Good morning.” Zyglavis replied.

Instead of using words, Scorpio replied with a nod, not thrilled about the early hour either. The women took their seats on their side of the circular table, Teresa’s eyes fixing into a glare pointed at Zyglavis. The ambiance of the room turned from quiet to awkward in a matter of minutes.

Finally, Zyglavis let out a sigh. “Lady Teresa, is there something you would like to say?”

If it were possible, Teresa’s glare grew colder. “Yeah. What’s the deal with holding the meeting at this ungodly hour?”

“Punishments has a large task to complete later today. This time was best for us.”

“Oh, so we’re working around your schedule-”

“Teresa.” Kare cut in, giving the Fuckery Minister a look.

Teresa huffed and crossed her arms, slouching back into her chair. Kare wasn’t usually this uptight, but when it came to work that woman didn’t didn’t make a habit of messing around.

The door opened once again, revealing the missing Minister and Vice-Minister of Wishes. Leon, unsurprisingly, looked annoyed while Karno wore a friendly, relaxed expression.

“You’re late.” Zyglavis snapped, his tone sharp and unforgiving.

“Yes, we’re sorry.” Karno apologized, taking a seat. “There were some... distractions this morning.”

Scorpio scoffed. “Figures.”

The corner of Leon’s mouth curled up. “Spent the night alone again, did you?”

Scorpio clicked his tongue and narrowed his eyes. “Better then whatever disgusting woman you allowed into your bed.”

Kare bit her bottom lip and quickly clasped a hand over her mouth to hide her smile, trying to withhold the giggles bubbling in her chest. Teresa, on the other hand, burst into a fit of laughter, not caring when Leon’s glare shifted to her.

Zyglavis, who’s eyebrows furrowed another inch, cleared his throat. “It’s time to get started. Punishments doesn’t have the luxury of time the four of you do.”

“You wouldn’t be so behind if you got your problem children under control.” Leon said, a confident smirk tugging at his lips. “Perhaps you should transfer them to Fuckery. Seems like they’ll get more work done over there.”

Teresa wasn’t laughing anymore. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Ichthys would fit in, honestly...” Kare muttered.

The Fuckery Minister turned to her Vice-Minister. “Ok, he would, but that’s not the point.”

Karno, seeing that the meeting was going no where, decided to take things into his own hands. “I see that everyone has a lot of energy this morning. We should be able to get through this rather quickly if we begin now.”

Kare nodded in agreement. “Every Department has a problem child and we shouldn’t leave them unattended for too long.”

‘Our entire department is nothing but problem children.’ Teresa thought.

“Fine. We’ll start.” Leon said, sliding a paper across the table in Teresa’s direction. “What the hell is this foreign language?”

“I was going to ask about that, too.” Zyglavis added. “It’s incomprehensible.”

Teresa lifted a brow and picked up the paper, reading the first few lines. “Dammit, Cupid.”

Kare glanced over. “Don’t tell me she-”

“Wrote in human slang again? Why yes, yes she did.”

“Oh boy.”

Teresa cleared her throat and began reading out loud. “This week, I would like to report that there had been an increased number of thots roaming the palace. I have reason to believe these thots were given an invitation to enter by either Leon, Teorus or Tauxolouve from the Department of Wishes, though there is also a possibility that Partheno from Punishments is involved. I can’t help but LOL at how shook some of these thots looked; can’t determine if they’ve been ghosted yet or not. These thots were trying to flex, but I threw hands with those extra goddesses. In the end, I got them to spill some tea, hit them with a ‘Bye, Felicia’, then yeeted their salty asses out the door. It was lit and I wish someone was there to see me snatch their weaves. I can’t help but ROFL at how highkey desperate these thots are to sleep with any of the gods listed above. Now I’m hangry.”

Now finished reading, Teresa looked up at the others. Everyone seated at the table, except for Kare, clearly were unable to process anything that had been said.

Kare broke the silence. “Basically, we’ve noticed a lot of goddess wandering the halls and have had to escort them out. Make sure your guys clean up after themselves.”

Scorpio clicked his tongue, eyes narrowing in rage. “That miget wrote all that garbage for a simple explanation like that?!”

“You say garbage, I say work or art.” Teresa said, folding the report. “Anything else we can translate for you?”

Karno nodded and placed a smaller paper in Kare’s hand. “This was attached to the front of the report.”

Kare read the note first in her head, then out loud. “Tell Aigo to report to my office for a pegging.” Her brows furrowred and she turned to her superior. “What’s pegging?”

Teresa shrugged. “First I’m hearing of it. She must have learned a new word. Did Aigo go see her?”

“Yeah. The way he jumped out of bed and ran, he must know what that term means.” Leon said.

Zyglavis, who usually had a face of stone, was looking away from everyone in attempt to hide his reddened cheeks. This failed, though, as Scorpio noticed right away.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Scorpio asked.

Zyglavis cleared his throat. “Nothing. I don’t see why we are wasting time translating this nonsense.”

Leon smirked. “Oh-ho, so Minister Ponytail does know what ‘pegging’ means.”

“If I did, I would have said so, rabid lion.”

The meeting continued. Gods had a very different sense of time then humans did, but even for the goddesses in Fuckery, time moved painfully slow. When it was finally over, Teresa and Kare returned to their department. Inside were more members of the Department of Fuckery, who had finally left their chambers. Moli, the Goddess of Domination and Maisey, the Goddess of Submission, were having a casual conversation on large couch. Curled up on a single chair was Kay, the Goddess of Innocence.

Moli was twirling a lock of long, red hair around her finger. Her green eyes were focused on Maisey, listening earnestly to her friend. Maisey had long hair that started brown, then faded into a deep shade of green that matched her eyes. Kay’s blue eyes were cast down to the book in her lap. Her hair was also red, but cut to her shoulders. All three were dressed in the Fuckery uniform, which resembled those belonging to Wishes and Punishments, just more of a femanine style. Each goddess in the department wore a velvet-red arm band.

“Thank god that’s over!” Teresa exclaimed, disrupting the quiet atmosphere. “Cupid, you coward! Where are you?”

“She’s in her office.” Moli said, pointing towards the back of the department.

Teresa huffed and stormed towards the office. Kare, choosing to stay behind, took a seat on the couch as well, near Kay’s chair.

“How was the meeting?” Kay asked.

“Chaotic, as always.” Kare replied, nodding towards the book in the red-head’s lap. “Whatcha’ reading?”

“A book from Earth. It’s called 50 Shades of Grey.”

“Sounds interesting. What’s it about?”

Kay’s cheeks turned pink as she shook her head. “You don’t wanna know.”

Kare was confused by the statement, but chose to let it go.

Moli reached over and tapped the vice-minister’s shoulder. “How was Zyg?”

The purple-haired goddess shrugged. “He didn’t seem any different then usual. Although, I’m a little worried he may be over-working himself...”

Maisey raised a brow. “What makes you say that?”

“His face flushed red in the middle of the meeting. If gods were capable of getting sick I would assume it was an illness, but he seemed, I don’t know, embarrassed?”

“Zyg? Embarrassed?” Kay asked, not believing her ears. “Impossible. Over what?”

“Cupid wrote something about ‘pegging’ in one of her notes and no one could figure out what it meant.”

Moli, who looked concerned a minute ago, was now smiling. She almost looked proud.

“Oh, I see.” Moli said, picking up her glass from the coffee table and taking a sip.

Moli and Maisey exchanged a look. Only they knew the reason behind Zyglavis’ embarrassment and who was the cause of it. Kare was about to ask, but Kay quickly shook her head as of saying ‘don’t’. So, once again, Kare was left in the dark.

Maisey downed the rest of her glass. “I gotta ask Hue for more wine. This is good shit.”

“I can’t believe how high your alcohol tolerance is.” Kay said. “Or that your drinking this early in the morning.”

Maisey shrugged. “Gotta get fucked up to fuck things up, right?”

“Preach!” Moli exclaimed, raising her glass in a toast before chugging the rest of it. “Hey, Kare, you want some?”

Kare thought about it. “I really shouldn- ah, screw it. Why not?”

“What about you, Kay?” Maisey asked.

Kay smiled but politely declined.

~

Teresa lifted her hand to knock on the door, but decided against and threw it open instead.

“Cupid, what the hell is this?” Teresa asked the department’s secretary, waving the report from earlier in her hand.

Cupid, who had been calmly writing at her desk, paused to look at the Minister. Cupid, the Goddess of Infatuation, was small but mighty. She had short brown hair and brown eyes that matched. Also in the room was Ruby. Ruby, the Goddess of Dreams, was the youngest in the department and acted as Fuckery’s messenger while training beneath the others. She had dark, medium length hair and gentle brown eyes.

“Ew, it’s you.” Cupid huffed. “That’s the report, you hooligan. Maybe if you stopped putting sugar on your lettuce you’d have figured that out.”

“Sugar on my- At least I don’t go after basic human white boys!” Teresa snapped back. “I knew what this was. Why all the slang? The gods couldn’t make any sense of it.”

“I was doing my job and made the meeting more entertaining.” Cupid smirked. “How ridiculous were their faces?”

Teresa laughed. “I’ve never seen Zyg look more confused in my life. Scorpio was kinda pissed, Leon was flat out confused and Karno was just like ‘oh, ok’. It was priceless.”

“Um, no one is going to get in trouble, right?” Ruby asked nervously. “Those meetings seem important, so...”

Teresa shook her head. “They’re important, yeah, but we’re the department of Fuckery; we’re supposed to mess a around. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be on the receiving end of the king’s boredom. That’s what Leon is for.”

“Ruby helped me with slang research.” Cupid said, patting the younger goddess’ head. “Good work.”

Ruby blushed. “T-Thank you.”

Teresa flashed Ruby a smile before turning back to Cupid. “By the way, what does ‘pegging’ mean? Leon and Karno want to know.”

Cupid laughed. “You don’t wanna know. Trust me. It will ruin you forever.”

“Nothing can ruin me more then the lot of you have.”

“Okay, you asked for it.” Cupid looked at Ruby. “Cover your ears for a minute.”

Ruby was confused, but did as told. Cupid approached Teresa and explained it to her quietly. When she finished, Teresa was frozen in place trying to process what she had just heard. Part of her wasn’t surprised, but at the same time, she was.

Teresa groaned. “Great. Now I have an image of you and Aigo-”

A voice suddenly shouted across the department. “Ladies! We have a problem!”

Teresa, Cupid and Ruby exchanged looks before racing into the main room where the others were. Kare, Moli, Maisey and Kay were still present, but one more goddess now stood amongst them. Bonnibell, the Goddess of Chaos, had a darker complexion then the others and was equally as beautiful with her curly dark hair and powerful eyes. In this moment, her eyes had a fire blazing behind them.

“B? What’s wrong?” Teresa asked.

“I caught a rat trying to sneak in here.” Bonnibell explained.

Ruby flinched. “A-A rat?”

“Poor thing must have lost it’s way.” Kay said. “We should release him outside.”

“Oh, it’s not that kind of rat.”

Bonnibell turned and headed out the door. The other goddesses were confused, but rushed after her, curious to see what their friend had caught.

Out in the hall, the goddesses found someone sitting on the floor, wrists and feet tied together. The god was wearing white clothing, had blonde hair and gold eyes. Everyone recognized him instantly.

“Teorus!” Kare exclaimed, eyes narrowing as her hands placed themselves on her hips. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Teorus laughed nervously. “I heard Fuckery was having some trouble with my goddesses, so I thought I would come guard the hallway. Can’t have anyone getting hurt, right?”

“Oh, so you’re the one who’s been letting all those thots in?” Cupid realized, crossing her arms.

“I don’t know what that means, but it sounds mean.” Teorus snapped his fingers to free himself from the bonds and stood up. “If you ladies are thaaaat jealous, my door is always open. I’ll accept you all.”

None of the goddess laughed. In fact, they were all harshly glaring at him. Teorus seemed to realize what grave he had just dug for himself and took off down the hall.

“After him!” Teresa commanded.

The goddesses of Fuckery gave chase, racing through the palace after the blonde god. Teorus could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He was so focused on the women hunting him that he didn’t think to slow down before racing around the corner. As a result, he ran face first into someone. The impact sent Teorus falling onto his ass.

“Ow!” Teorus hissed.

Krioff glared down at him. “What did you do that for?”

“Ah! Krioff!” Teorus exclaimed, still on the floor. “You gotta help me! The girls in Fuckery are reaaally mad at me!”

Krioff looked past Teorus to the mob of enraged goddesses standing before him. “I can see that.”

Knowing better then to get involved, Krioff turned his back and started walking in the other direction.

Teorus’ heart sank. “You’re not gonna help me?!”

“No. See ya.” Krioff replied, not looking back.

The goddesses pounced. Moli and Maisey each took a leg and started dragging Teorus across the floor, heading back to the department. The others followed, ignoring Teorus’ pleas for mercy and forgiveness. The goddesses hauled him into Fuckery and closed the door. Teorus’ screams could no longer be heard echoing in the halls.

~~~~~~~

Minister Teresa: @teresa-yukibito

Vice-Ministed Karebear: @karebearotome

Cupid: @incurablecupidity

Moli: @john-bull-leun

Maisey: @voltage-supernatural-art

Kay: @jer-ich0

Bonnibell: @bonnisimpparker

Ruby: @currentlysleepy

#scm #star crossed myth #admin Karebear

[drethanramslay]

Rock Bottom

Pairing: Mona X MC (Alexis Jennings)

Masterlist

Word count: 1.8 K (I really tried🤧)

Warnings: None, there is swearing, also there is a crossover 👀

Author's note: I'm taking part in @rodappreciationweek and this is my entry for day 3 (mona)

The hosts of RoDaw @client-327 @brightpinkpeppercorn and @choicesarehard are donating $5 usd to the Lebanese red cross, up to $500 for every piece of Mona content today! Please consider making/posting something for Mona today if you haven't already❤️

I'm also taking part in @wackydrabbles so you will find the prompt in bold

Forgive me if I make any mistakes

"Prisoners move back to your respective cells." The loudspeaker blared, cutting sharply through the air, giving Mona a cold splash of reality.

Until that godforsaken announcement, Mona had been sitting on the steps, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the cool breeze threading through her hair. The sun rays poured over her and she enjoyed the warmth emanating from them. She could smell the ocean and with her eyes closed, she could almost imagine standing on the shores of Santa Monica, the sound of the waves washing over her.

But there is only so much imagination one can use to forget that she was in jail.

To her darn luck, she had been transferred to Trask Island, a maximum security prison off the coast of Florida. It was one of those dreary prison where you were completely cut off from the world.

No call, no letters, no communication.

Whatever fucked up environment they created here, that was her world and Mona hated every second of it.

It was also called the 'rock' because one, it was on a island and two, it would drown all your hopes and wishes of a future, just like how a rock sinks in water.

No one has ever escaped Trask Island and no one ever will. The words of the warden echoed through her head making her scoff.

It's cute that he thinks I will be sticking around in this shit hole.

Mona was super determined to get the fuck out of here even though there were moments when she was completely and utterly lost.

She hated the orange tracksuits she had to wear. She hated the way these spiteful men dictated her life and tried to break her spirit. She hated being stuck in a tiny cell.

She longed to feel the adrenaline rush in her veins when she raced.

She longed to feel her hands gripping her steering wheel, as she drove at speeds defying gravity.

But most of all she longed for Alexis... The girl she left behind.

Mona found it ironic. After her ex ratted her to the police she swore that she would never let anyone have that power over her. That she would never wear her heart on her sleeve again. She built this impenetrable fortress around herself so that no one could enter and know the real her.

But Alexis managed to do that by just smiling at her.

The way their hands fit perfectly into each other's... The way that all her worries would go away when Alex was in her arms... The way that they both pushed each other, looked out for each other and challenged each other...

Mona had never witnessed such a feeling of companionship and she couldn't help but fall for her.

I love you Mona... Those words haunted her but at the same time motivated her to keep going through the motions of the day.

Her fantasies were abruptly interrupted by the guard kicking her combat boots. "Up and going, or do you want a month in solitary?"

And the thing she hated the most about this prison are the guards. I mean it was normal to hate them but this was some next level shit. She absolutely abhorred them to such a extent that she wanted to strangle them with her bare hands.

The number of times she was thrown into solitary was not even funny. And all of them were for the dumbest of the dumbest reasons.

Hell she was thrown in the hole for a fight she wasn't even part of.

All men are the same... Power hungry and drunk on greed. That's why girls are better.

So not wanting to risk living in the darkness for a month, she bit her tongue and got up before joining the other cellmates.

"What a dick." Eris Huang, an expert demolition muttered under her breath, so low that only Mona could hear it, causing her to snort.

In the six months she was here, she was low-key glad that she met Eris. They two met when Mona was moved into Eris' cell. Both were strong willed, hard headed and sarcastic woman so it wasn't really surprising that they became fast friends.

"Tell me about it. One of these days he is gonna piss me off so bad that I will end up castrating him with a blunt knife."

"Oof. I will hold him down and break his legs." Eris offered causing Mona to smirk. I like this girl. 

"Anyways, I have a shift at the library so meet you later." Eris spoke.

"Get me another notebook if possible."

"What are you writing? A love letter?" Eris teased which made Mona roll her eyes but she wasn't very far off from the truth.

"A lady never tells." Mona answered causing Eris to chuckle as she took a left to go to the basement.

Mona reached her cell and she felt the the cell gate close behind her with a loud clang, which resonated in her ribcage.

Sure, hanging out in the yard and working in the workshop was a welcome distraction but staying in her small cell for more than 17 hours would make a girl lonely.

So, in all these hours of loneliness, sadness and hopelessness Mona found some sort of solace in writing about her dreams, list of things she was going to do once she was out, her aspirations... But most importantly, how much she missed Alex and how she wished to be by her side.

So settling into the corner of her bunk, she opened the notebook with tattered pages so that she could write.

Dear Alex, I know I told you to not let me imprison you but that's not applicable to me because you are always on my mind. It's hard to forget you. I miss you so much....

Do you know what day it is today? It's the fifth... Or I assume so because there is no calendar here. We aren't told what date, month, year it is. It's just days which sinks into the lonely nights and the cycle continues.

It's been six months since I last saw you... And I guess it just hit me hard.

It's just cruel how little time we had together.

I still remember that night. How happy we were in that cute little prom of yours. I still remember how heartbroken you were when I betrayed you.

But you didn't let it break you.

I still remember the way you took down those bastards. I still remember how fucking proud I felt on that moment. I still remember how I took a bullet for you and the shock that coloured your face.

And I know the thoughts which ran at your head in that moment. "Someone actually cares enough for me to take a bullet for me."

I'm here to tell you that yes, I took a bullet for you and I would do it a thousand times over just to prove that I love you and I care about you. I'm here to tell you that you are worth it and you deserve all the love in the world.

I wish I could hold you in my arms and tell you all of this but... Life loves fucking with me and you got caught as collateral.

It's just... Hard some days. Sure I have made friends with some other criminals and tried to make this fuckery my new normal but I'm only human. I'm few moments away from sinking to rock bottom, as shocking as that may sound.

You always perceived me as an aloof, careless and a strong badass but that changed when I met you.

Sure I was always strong but you make me stronger. You and me... We both are like two knives sharpening each other. Pushing each other to reach new heights of awesomeness.

But, I also want to worry for you. I want to appreciate you. I want to wake up next to you and I want to love you.

I often wish how we would have met if I had not gone down the wrong path. Would we have met at some pub? Or in some Ivy League college? Or some frat party?

People often say that you shouldn't waste time thinking about the things that could have been but when you are in a prison with nothing but time, that's all you seem to do.

So yeah, you are the only thing preventing me from going insane.

I think that's enough emotional bullshit for today and I'm low-key relieved that you aren't reading these letters, of me talking like a sap.

But one thing is for sure- I love you.

Yours, Mona.

She heard the electric buzzer and the door of her cell opened. Eris walked in with an impassive face with a guard standing at the entrance. He shut the cell gate and walked away.

Mona's eyes narrowed as she sat up straight. Wait a minute-

She waited for the guard to be far away before she spoke up. "You have a plan."

Eris turned the light off of the cell and plopped on to the bed opposite Mona's.

"Smartie. Always knew I did a good job of recruiting you."

"But how? Do you remember the last time you failed and ended up in the hole for a month and a half?!"

"Yes I do remember but this is foolproof. We have outside help."

"... I'm listening."

"Do you speak thief?" She asked which made Mona scoff in disbelief.

"Obviously. I have stolen cars and kidnapped people. Obviously I'm no amateur."

Eris proceeded to explain how her friends Rye and some other chick had come up with a plan. She listened with complete attention and only stopped her to ask valid questions.

"So... Are you in?"

Mona tried weighing the pros and cons. It's sounded a tad bit unrealistic and far fetched. There were a couple of loose ends which made her hesitate.

Eris noticed that and grasped her hand. "See Mona, no escape plan is perfect. This is a rough draft and we will work out the kinks. But remember, the three crucial things an escape plan needs is- Luck, faith and determination. We don't know about what lady luck has in store but, we sure can have faith and determination."

"I know that you hate it here and I know the punishment of escaping is harsh but what's wrong in trying? We are already suffering as it is, what's a little more? And I see that fire in your eyes, M."

"The fire to break free and the fire to go back to your girl."

Mona looked up and the momentary joy of getting to see Alexis soon. Adrenaline courses through her veins, causing her heart to beat faster.

Eris leaned forward, her voice intense. "So tell me- Would you like to blow this joint or rot in here for the next five years wishing you could have atleast tried?"

Mona's eyes met hers and a smirk formed in her face. Reaching forward she shook Eris's hands, sealing the deal.  "What the hell. This is without doubt the stupidest plan you've ever had. Of course I'm in."

Don't worry Alexis, I'm coming home.

Hope you liked it 😊

Mona x MC Taglist : @kamilahsayeet2063 @kaitlynliaofanxx @vampiregirlsblog @made-me-deep-blue

Permanent Tag list: @trappedinfandoms @oofchoices @agent-breakdance @rookie-ramsey @dailydoseofchoices @colossalpainintheass @siaramsey @raleigheffingcarrera @kaavyaethanramsey @theeccentricbibliophile @ac27dj @ramseysno1rookie @justanotherrookie @openheart12 @jamespotterthefirst @checkurwindow @chasingrobbie​ @junggoku @bellcat2010 @choicesstan1 @mvalentine​ @crazynutella​ @hatescapsicum​ @dr-ramseys-rookie​ @lilypills​ @vampireblissblog​ @decadentwinnerjudgedream​ @choicesficwriterscreations​ @nooruleman​ @anonymously-cool​ @sanvivrma​

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#anushka writes #mona x mc #mona #rod mona #mona rod #ride or die #ride or die: a bad boy romance #rodappreaciationweek #rodaw #rod appreciation week #eris huang #eris thm #the heist: monaco #choices stories we play #playchoices #choices #choices stories you play #pixelberry

[madamebaggio]

Notes: SMUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUT!!!!

This is the next chapter on my Gretel x Nuada modern AU. Previous chapter is here, and you can find everything on my AO3 account.

Seriously, guys, this is pure smut. Not safe to read around other people.

I hope you enjoy it.

****

Chapter 3

This time around, Gretel was feeling even more confused. She wished she knew what was wrong with her. 

She wouldn’t even consider Nuada’s motive. He might be an immortal elf or whatever, but he still had a cock. She wasn’t shocked he was going around looking for hookups, but she was shocked at herself for falling for it, not once, but twice!

Where was her self respect? 

Was he a great fuck? Yeah. 

Did it justify all of this? Hell no.

It was really appalling that she was acting like this.

Gretel enjoyed sex as much as the next person, but there were some lines that shouldn’t be crossed. Fucking a -supposedly- former megalomaniac who’d planned on world destruction was a huge fucking line! And she didn’t just cross it. Oh no! She skipped happily across it.

This was so problematic.

And she couldn’t even blame it on a tendency to like bad boys because of lingering daddy issues. Exactly because she’d spent years believing her father had plain abandoned her and her brother, she only got involved with the sweetest men she could meet. Sure, they bored the hell out of her eventually, but at least they didn’t break her heart.

She had no idea what she was doing.

So she did what any normal, mature adult would; she pretended everything was alright and worked.

Which meant going to meetings.

If there was one thing that made her truly believe that hell existed, it was the existence of meetings. Only the Devil could be so cruel as to create something like this.

However, today… There was something extra.

Gretel mused at it while she sat there, pretending she was listening to Agent Something. It wasn’t Nuada; he was as cool as cucumber, and he didn’t even make eye contact with her.

Hansel was fine, sitting between Mina and Abe. There was Nuala...

Nuala, who was making a real effort to avoid Gretel’s eyes. And, taking in consideration how polite and friendly the princess was most of the time, Gretel was instantly in alert.

Then Nuada said something and Nuala focused even harder on the floor, making Gretel understand exactly what was going on.

She’d waited until the meeting was over then dragged Nuala to the closest restroom. “You know!” She hissed.

To her credit, Nuala didn’t even try to deny it. Although, with her expression, it was useless to even try. “It’s not as if I’ve sought the knowledge.” Nuala replied on that overly formal and prim way she had.

Gretel hadn’t thought Nuala wanted to know what her brother was up to, but anyway… “It makes no fucking difference.” She covered her face with her hands. “Oh my god.”

“I am sorry.” Nuala cringed.

Gretel sighed. “It’s not your fault, but…” She groaned. “It’s still uncomfortable.”

Nuala gave her a sympathetic smile.

“Does he know you know?”

“Of course he does. We just act like we don’t.” Nuala told her. “It’s the same he does for me and Abe.”

Gretel cringed in sympathy. She couldn’t imagine having that kind of intimate knowledge regarding her brother.

“Are you alright?” Nuala asked her carefully.

“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Nuala sighed. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Let’s go with your policy with your brother and pretend we never discussed this.” Gretel asked.

“We can do that.” Nuala agreed quickly, then paused “It’s just…”

“No.”

“I’m not supposed to say that, but…”

“Then, please, don’t say it!” Gretel hurried to press. “Please.”

Nuala sighed. “You’re right. It wouldn’t be right.”

Was there anything right in this situation?

***

Gretel had had horrible nights before, but this…

She knew their work was essential. Normal people couldn’t handle the supernatural; they thought they could and that they wanted to… But they didn’t, not really.

Some things were meant to be handled by the right people, and that was them. This was why she and Hansel had chosen to stick around the Bureau. They did what they could alone, but with more resources they could do more.

Tonight, it didn’t feel like they could’ve done anything.

Gretel already feared human terrorists, but those that came from the other side…

It must be even harder for Nuada, because until recently, he was their symbol; the spark that fired a desire for revolution.

And that was why today it had been so cruel to them all.

Nuada had to kill the leader of a terrorist group led by elves that -as he had once- wanted to make humans pay for how they destroyed their world. The elf that called him a traitor, claiming he was fighting the battle the prince had abandoned.

It couldn’t be pleasant to hear that, especially since Nuada wasn’t a part of the Bureau because he wanted to.

The mood of the whole team had been dark as they came back, and Nuada had left before the debriefing.

Nobody went after him to make him participate.

Gretel was going to take a hot shower and forget this night had ever existed.

She’d just kicked her shoes off when someone knocked on her door. She sighed but went to answer it. Nuada was on the other side. 

“What are you doing here?” She asked quite rudely, but her surprise made her forget her manners.

Nuada sighed. “I wish I knew the answer to that.”

Gretel gave him a flat look. “Go rest.” She didn’t have the energy for this fuckery.

She pushed the door, intending to close it, but Nuada held it open with his hand.

She glared at him, ready to tell him to fuck off, when he shocked the hell out of her. “I yield.”

“What?” Not the smartest reply but she was truly shocked.

“I’m yielding to you.” He explained unnecessarily.

“We aren’t fighting.” She pointed out.

He gave a meaningful look to the door between them, the one she was trying to close and he was holding open. She refused to accept that as fighting and her look made it quite clear.

Nuada mumbled something on his language. “I’m giving control over to you anyway.” A pause. “Only for now.”

Of course he’d put a limit to that. “What should I do with it?” She asked honestly, because this whole situation was bizarre.

“Whatever you want.”

There was this moment when they stared at each other, Gretel trying to understand his motives better and Nuada just letting her try it.

The more she looked at him the crazier this seemed, and she could probably fill up a notebook with all the reasons this was a very bad idea.

She stepped to the side. “Get in.”

He did and she closed the door behind him. “I’m taking a shower.” She gave him a look. “And so are you.”

He didn’t comment, just nodded and followed her from the small bedroom to the tiny bathroom.

They took off their clothes in a practical way, no seduction to it at all.

Gretel fiddled with the shower handle, more to distract herself and have time to think what the fuck she was doing.

The water was the only good feature of the Bureau compound. It had excellent pressure and it was piping hot, just the way she liked it.

Gretel stepped under the water, let it beat down on her. She felt the moment Nuada stepped in behind her.

“Wash my hair.” She ordered him, pointing at her shampoo. “No funny business.” She warned.

She was shocked to see him complying without any complaints, but he did exactly as she asked.

They didn’t exchange any words as he lathered her long hair, his long fingers massaging her scalp until she felt her shoulders sagging. She didn’t even need to point the conditioner to him.

Once he finished her hair, she told him to wash.For a while they were both two people sharing the same shower, just washing the day away.

Nuada was rinsing under the water when she stepped up to him and kissed him. His hands were -for the first time- hesitant, as he put them on her waist. She bit into his lower lip and he pushed her against the wall, his tongue pushing into her mouth.

Gretel pushed him a but. “Slow.” She ordered. “This time, slow.”

He growled at her, but when he kissed her, it was slower. Their kisses seemed deeper this way, with a punishing edge to it, even as their tongues tangled.

Her hand slipped down his torso, until she found his cock and closed her fingers around him, pumping slowly. Nuada’s fingers weren’t idle and found her cunt, working her until he could slip two fingers in.

Shower sex was always a bit of a challenge, but if there was one thing in which Gretel trusted was Nuada’s raw strength.

She hooked her left leg on his hip, encouraging him to just fuck her already. It took some maneuvering before he was able to slip in with a single thrust. Gretel was very satisfied with her non slip shower mat, now more than ever.

Their mouths remained fused as Nuada fucked her against the wall. She did have to stand on one leg and on her tiptoes for it, but she wasn’t complaining -maybe she would later.

At some point Nuada grabbed her other leg, bringing it to his waist as well, and Gretel groaned as both her feet left the ground. She squeezed him tight between her legs, her arms around his neck, his mouth to her throat. She felt as if he was hitting her so deep he might never find his way back out.

She let one of her arms slip from around his neck so she could play with her clit. Nuada watched the progress of her hand, then started fucking her harder. It didn’t take long for her to come, biting her lips so she wouldn’t call his name. He followed right after.

Nuada lowered her to the ground with a gentleness she didn’t think he had. Gretel once again stepped under the water, this time to clean up.

She stepped out of the shower and picked up a towel while Nuada washed himself, then passed another towel to him once he was also out.

Her legs were shaking, so she went to sit on her bed. She watched through the open door as he toweled himself dry, then dressed quickly and in silence.

Should she say something?

“You should get Mina to teach you the arts.” He said as he came into the room fully dressed.

She definitely wasn’t expecting that. “What?”

“You have talent; it’s raw and untapped.” He informed her, barely looking at him. Was he really telling her to study magic? “If you learn how to harness it, you’ll become a great asset.”

“Is that a compliment?” She asked him dryly.

He finally looked at her. “No. You haven’t done anything to deserve one yet.”

She scoffed. “Thank you for the advice.”

He opened his mouth, like he intended to say something else, before changing his mind. He gave her a stiff nod and left the room.

Gretel fell back on the bed. “What the hell?”

Should she talk to Mina?

#madame baggio #crackship #CrossOver #Crossover Pairings #AU #gifs not mine #smut #hansel and gretel witch hunters #hellboy the golden army #gretel #prince nuada #gretel x prince nuada #why dont we kill each other slowly

[louiserandom]

The MadaTobi adventure has been chosen...

AND IT’S SOULMATES EXCAHNGING POWERS WOOOHOOOO (purple and green are the same option i just edited the form like a dumbass)

However, I’ve come to the inevitable conclusion THAT I WANNA WRITE ALL THESE FREAKIN PROMPTS or at least a couple more, so after this CYOA ends, I might just tackle the rest :D Thank you ALL so much for voting! I seriously didn’t expect this much feedback and I’ll do my best to deliver :3 *sends you all hugs, positivity and rays of sunshine during these trying times and hopes that each one of you is safe* Hopefully the story will provide some fun and distraction from the grim anxiety <3

Now, I couldn’t resist writing the first part before Camp Nano started so I’ll be posting the chapter a bit later today once I’m all done with work stuff :3 And as always, a few more notes on the rest of the survey questions~ 

Thank you for enabling my thotty side. Again ehehehehe

AND OH LOOK AT THESE VOTES FOR THE ADDITIONAL PROMPTS EH

+ Virgin Tobirama knows everything about sex; semi-feral tobirama who spends too much time with his summons; Hate to Love; A+ banter, maybe 1 combined w/ secret relationship; shameless Izuna - oh, 3 of these are definitely gonna be in the story ;)

Now, fair warning: it will be long because my brain made me add this huge plot and Zetsu’s fuckery to the mix which will result in his gruesome elimination from existence sorry for spoilers lmao and because I’m hopeless, expect some bijuu shenanigans as well👀👀👀 Granted, some of the plot points and tropes are going to be revealed in the story; like, Tobirama’s obliviousness level and the exact level of Hashirama’s over-protectiveness will depend on your choices :3 Hope y’all have fun with me!

And below the cut, comment responses <3 I’ve had to group some because I’ve got so little time right now but will hopefully be able to answer every question separately as time goes. Again, THANK YOU all for voting!!!

I would really like both options two and four, any chance? This all sounds incredible I am super excited thank you!

The third option also sounds good

I like Plot II and III too actually as well

I wish I could pick all of the story options ;)

I love your work and am so excited for this! I had so much trouble choosing answers in the poll because everything sounds so good!

Chose option I but strongly hesitated with option II cause it could be so funny.

All of these plots sound so awesome!!! It was super hard to pick one.

Argh! Why is choosing so hard? I want at least one of every option in every combination imaginable. That said, I chose plot 2 for the hilarious potential of put upon Tobirama with a sharingan but plot 1 was a very close contestant. I can't wait to see what you cook up. It's gonna be so great! - oz

DUDES ALL YOUR COMMENTS AND MY OWN EXCITEMENT ABOUT THESE PROMPTS MADE ME WANNA WRITE THEM ALL, FUCK IT!!! I definitely want option 4, it’s peak hilarity, tho I wonder if it would work more as a story proper, not a CYOA (I can think of a few interesting conflicts and choices in that verse tho, so we’ll see). But I do love option 1 as well; option 3 may be a little overdone? But basically, just lemme finish this one, try my best to deliver and then put the rest of the plots to another vote <3

I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH AND THANK YOU, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR SUPPORT!!!

p.s. Oz, you’re as always too kind <3

It would be funny if Tobirama was hilariously confident and actually decent at flirting with a flailing Madara but was actually a virgin. Like just completely and utterly shamelessly saying something like, 'yh I'm a virgin so you better make this good. I've got a lot to learn ;)' And of course Madara flails :D

THANK YOU. YES. THIS XD (Tobi would, wouldn’t he. And he very likely will, in this fic ;)

He is the dumbest Bitch alive with Tobi and Hashi running for second place. Bitch should have gotten some Senju dick to calm tf down.

No comments, only applause. You know what’s up

The fandom thanks you for doing God's work ;)

My insecure ass thanks you for your kind words <3

Hurt Tobi to show how protective Madara can be

Bold of you to assume I won’t hurt both of them and have them build each other back up again (lmao ignore my dramatic ass, as I said, nothing but light angst haha. But still some pain because plot said so :o)

Both being stupidly weak when it comes to kids

YEPPPPP YOU’RE READING MY MIND :D CAN’T WAIT TO WRITE THOSE SCENES

CLEARLY. Hashirama, Mito, Touka, and Izuna should all be one giant poly pile. 👀 Also it was impossible for me not to pick the option with Kurama. I love that grumpy asshole fox and I have... So many... Headcanons for him.....

HashiMitoTouIzu poly pile *stares* this... this.... MAYBE NOT IN THIS FIC BUT I WOULD LIKE TO TACKLE THIS IDEA AT SOME POINT LMAO THAT WOULD BE AWESOME :D (will maybe try to write a fic with them for camp nano ehehe)

Also, although ultimately, option 2 was chosen…. I couldn’t resist and added the possibility of Kurama appearing, I love his grumpy ass too much :D (Altho this will depend on the votes👀)

Maybe a child, adopted (kagami) or mpreg

Hmmm, no mpreg, just in this particular fic, but lots of interactions with children ;)

Wasn't he already? ://

ALWAYS

Madara is clearly the dumbest (Hashi is a close second)

YOU SPEAK THE TRUTH DEAR READER, I’M GLAD YOU SEE THE LIGHT

(Personally, I think Hashirama is the dumbest founder lol) But could you maybe make Tobirama and Izuna actually get along? They don’t have to be friends but just no active animosity. Maybe. You obviously don’t have to— would probably love it either way— but ‘tis my request

I may have to write that thesis about Madara’s dumbassery after all lol, be sure that I will convince you

And oh yeah, they definitely get along, don’t worry! Writing Tobirama and Izuna’s friendship warms my heart :3

I love flaily Mads and oblivious Tobes

WHO DOESN’T :D

Madara is not dumb, just a dumbass ^^ Also, bringing in Tobi's sensing is always a YES from me!

Nooooo HE DUMB AND A DUMBASS HOW BOUT THAT XD ehehe oh there’s gonna be a lot of sensing fuckery in the chosen option so I hope you enjoy! :3

At some point please let Mito and Tobirama befriend Kurama 'cause they're all powerful sassy bitches that will bitch slap you into your place and they all put the ultimate smack down on meddling Elders who've teamed up with Zetsu?

Although option 2 has been chosen… Kurama may appear in the story *shifty eyes* AND mf Zetsu lmao I need to kill that bitch. He’ll know pain^-^

Hashirama should be a smiling sociopath a la Symbol of Subjugation style. He knows there's something wrong but, hey, he wants to see his precious all happy :)

Oh, I considered that actually, I adore that fic! But imo it works better with a couple of other plots so I may consider writing him that way for a future CYOA :3 

I can already tell that this is gonna be one hell of a ride and I can’t wait!

Hell yeah go forth you funky lil author, you got this :D

Na

Nope nope I have non good luck

Luv ya <3

AHHHHHH YESSS I AM READY

Have fun

Thank you so much guys! <3 I’M EXCITED AS FUCK AND I CANNOT WAIT TO START :D

#THANK YOU ALL FOR VOTING!!! #madatobi #choose your own adventure #fic #lou writes #camp nano april 2020

[parkeraul]

maybe a investigator!shawn oneshot where he's involved with criminal!reader and like.. unable to resist her??

trapped up on a tightrope | s.m (oneshot)

a/n: sorry this took so long. i was out of inspiration to this one but luckily something popped up into my mind today. by the way, not that anyone cares, my requests are closed and i’m writing the ones i already have. a special thanks to my babey @mbappekylians for giving me a little feedback about this. volim te.

warnings: kinky stuff, dirty talk, kinda smutty, kinda angsty, use of guns, mentions of crimes and swearing. words: 3,297k.

masterlist | previous work

“Why have you dragged me all the way to this place again?” She asks him, her long dress swaying shyly as he comes straight to where she is after closing the door to his hotel room. Shawn must’ve lost count of how many times he failed on gathering proofs against Y/N to finally trap her somewhere else rather than his bed. And this time wasn’t different since he was already cornering her, pinning her to the beige wall of his enormous bedroom on a building that she’s been in before. It sucks so much to get defeated by her silhouette wandering around the hall so delightfully embraced by an expensive red dress that clung to her body so tightly — and sure that cloth wasn’t properly purchased. Neither were the jewelries. As per usual. 

“Thought it would bring you some sweet memories,” He says almost whispering, stretching his tattooed arm to limit her space even more. Her makeup is breathtakingly perfect, with sharp and well-defined eyeliner under her long and curved lashes. The unforgettable tone of red colouring her lips matching with the dress — this one disappearing at the middle of her chest where the cleavage showed him all the beginning of his insanity. God, and she wasn’t even trying. “Am I right?” “What a stupid way to remind me about the Carlson case,” She rolls her eyes, letting out a breathy chuckle. “See, Mendes, for an investigator — that’s sure a fool for me, by the way — you should act smoother,” Her sarcastic expression lightens in him the most extreme feelings: the love and the hate. As much as he loves her cocky attitude, it sparkles his nerves with anger. Who the hell does she think she is? “A girl hates when the guy comes off too strong, you know? Pay her a drink before; think before you speak; choose the right words—““I’m not kiddin’, honey,” He softly takes her chin in his thumb and forefinger, tilting her head up a little bit more to look her deep in the eyes. “Let’s not waste our time. I hate this as much as you do,” Shawn can barely see her in the darkness of the room, depending on the moonlight breaking through the balcony’s window to watch her features. It’s poorly, but it’s enough to see the details he admires the most. “But you owe me an explanation, if I’m not mistaken.” “You believed me? When I said I’d give away an information if you helped me sneak out from Edward’s office without making a scene?” At this point, his jaw is clenching and his eyebrows are frowning gradually. “Come on! By now you should know my mind like the back of your hand.” 

His mouth threatens to fall open in surprise but he doesn’t let it happen. Instead, he presses his lips together forming a thin line while she smiles devilishly, taking the desire out of him for a moment. Shawn’s hand travels from her chin to her neck and he adds a light pressure, making her close her eyes and bite on her lower lip. Fuckin’ bitch. Nothing seems to ever scare her, she manages to turn it all into a joke and this might be the thing that pisses him off the most. 

“You promised me,” Shawn groans lowly, ignoring the sensation of his dress pants getting tighter and the tie around his throat going uncomfortably taut. “And you’re not leaving this building until you spill the tea. Heard me?” “Mm, I like that,” Y/N makes sure to say this as sexy as possible and she knows it worked because he’s now breathing harder, chest moving heavily as he inhales and exhales. “What’s the downside, again?” “You think this is a fuckery, don’t you?” “Is there anything else but that between us?” 

Yes, he thinks. An incomprehensible passion for a woman that can pull up the most beautiful lies and make a fool out of anyone she wants effortlessly. He feels handcuffed, ironically. In a prison where he’s locked by mistake, by his mistake of letting Y/N take over his mind like he’s a puppet. Fuckery it is. 

“Could you start already and save me some hours?” “Without a kiss first?” She fakes puppy eyes, jutting out her lower lip dramatically in a childish pout. Her hands are coming up his chest, grabbing the collar of his white dress shirt and eventually sliding to play with his tie. “You know how long has it been since I last saw you in a black tie?” Y/N tries to distract him.Shawn stays silent, shoving a punch on the wall with the hand that was giving him support before. “Oh, I see,” Y/N says, jumping lightly in revelation and faking a comprehensive expression exaggeratedly. “You’re mad at me because I wasn’t a good girl. Am I right?” She pulls him closer by the tie, brushing her lips along his jawline as she smells the unforgettable scent of his cologne. Marking him with soft red lines from her lipstick, she watches it nearly mix with the rosy tone adorning his cheeks. “Thinkin’ I don’t deserve a reward for dressing up this good for you today and waste it all by being a brat,” Smirking, she tilts her head to bite at the lobe of his ear and fan her breath against it purposely, earning goosebumps from him in return. “I love it when you get rough but you know how much I hate when you’re quiet for me.” She shifts her leg up his side in order to bring him nearer, forcing his hip towards her with her shin pressed to his ass.In a swift motion, he lifts his thumb from her throat and puts it under her chinbone, still holding her neck by the nape. Inching her head back quickly, he hears it banging weakly against the wall and it makes her hair fall partly in front of her eye. She gasps, out of breath but not defeated enough to stop running her hands down his frame, feeling the muscles of his abs under her palms through his shirt. Shawn steps closer, trapping her hands between their bodies and interrupting her teasing. He knows better and hates that he has to stop her so his mind is clear to think straight. “What do you want to tell me how and why have you killed Carlson Reagan?” He asks with no ceremony. It’s an amusement to look at her being dominated by him, face tilted up at his mercy and her intimidating glance only getting more and more intense. It’s always a fight of who rules over whom. She whines like a baby, squinting her eyes and he knows what it is. Pity. “Aw! Still hurt because I didn’t keep my promise?” Y/N pitches her voice, acting like a regretful teenager who couldn’t fulfill her partner’s expectation. “Or hurt because he took me to bed that night?” 

The pain on his face is more than noticeable. Shawn can’t control his impatience and moves his hand to her hair, tugging at the locks and pulling her to his own face. 

“Go to the point.” He growls and he’s not sure if it’s because he doesn’t want to believe she fucked with someone else, or because he thinks she’s lying. “Funny of you to interrogate me like that when you could be putting my mouth to a better use,” Lifting one eyebrow cockily, she drags her hand up her own thigh where the fabric of her dress opens to reveal her leg. “You wanna save hours that you could be enjoying instead, right in front of me. Exactly how you are. I’d just, you know… Need some space to knee down and bring you clothes with me, investigator,” Shawn doesn’t notice her hand disappearing inside the flat skirt of her dress and uses his fingers that aren’t tangled in her hair to play with the strap of her cloth. “I’ve been thinking about that gagging thing you’re head over heels for. Reagan wasn’t really into raw sex like you are, kinda boring,” She makes a sad face as she finally feels the material of lace belt around her thigh, sliding her fingers to the outer side of her leg where her gun is at, tucked in and held by the drapery. He’s twirling the strap with his finger, bringing it down her arm and letting it rest there. Eyeing her round breast showing up more, he takes his hand off her to place it on top of his belt. “We could try that. ‘M pretty sure you’re crazy to punish your babygirl tonight, aren’t you? Mm?” Their lips are brushing together now that he’s dropped his face next to hers, his irresistible smile pearling in the soft darkness for his jaw to close no longer after, making her wonder if his teeth might even shatter. 

Rapidly, she grabs the gun in a handful while Shawn moves his hand to his pocket, finding his gun. He lets go of her hair and, at the same time, they put the guns out as he takes a step back, pointing the object to her just like she points hers to him. 

“Very good, investigator,” Her back leaves the wall and she stands on her heels properly, spine perfectly aligned and straight, ready to react. If they weren’t in a moment of tenseness, he would melt in a puddle for her laugh right now. “Brilliant! Someone’s getting better, eh?” 

Y/N loads a bullet, making Shawn do the same and the clicking of the guns sound deafening as it echoes throughout the room. She’s smiling and giggling like this is a moment of joy, walking slowly to him as he keeps on walking backwards. The barrel of her silver gun shines through the nightfall and so do her eyes, standing behind the pipe attentive on him. 

“What, Mendes? Cat got your tongue?” Questioning, the noise of her high-heels hitting the wooden floor reverberate as she steps carefully. “You wanted me to talk but I’ve been such a big mouth for most part of the night already,” Shawn’s left arm is supporting his right hand — that’s holding the weapon — and he’s more than observant, fearing any impulsive actions that he knows she’s capable of. He’s seen her fight with guns, without guns and all of these moments made him learn that she’ll definitely not falter. More than pretty, she’s smart. She’s clever. She’s fast. No wonder why she’s been escaping for so long, making his career look like a trash can. “If you were good at investigating, as good as you are at shooting or in bed, you’d find out by yourself that Reagan wasn’t murdered by these hands.” Y/N shakes her hands playfully and his heart miss a beat. Shit, she’s not here to fuck around. “If you’re so innocent, then why do you keep on running from my questions?” With that, Shawn makes her smile fade away gradually and she wears a frightening face, trying to be the winner of this endless battle again. This time, he’s the one who smiles as his back reaches the power switch on the wall behind him, lightening up the room and seeing her face concentrated, brain working hard to build up a way to beat him on arguments. “Not so talkative now, are we?” “What makes you think you can put me down with your pitiable pressure?” “Can see your legs shaking from here.” “Don’t lie to yourself—“ “From all of the times I felt them shivering around my head, let’s say I’m a pro by now. Been making them tremble to me for so many nights, very bold of you to assume I wouldn’t notice so easily.” 

Y/N drops her head back and laughs loudly, putting her guard down but totally okay with this, because she knows he won’t do a single thing, too fucked for her to even think about pushing a bullet towards her body. His words surely made her heat wet in anticipation and it’s getting harder for Shawn not to give up and finish what he started, her dress falling more and more as she moves her silhouette next to his between chuckles. As he wants, she’s in front of him and he shifts his gun down below a little bit, hand resting on his own front as he holds the object still. The arm that gave him support before is now going up so he can run his fingers through his brown curls, soon falling to his pocket. Y/N surprisingly fixes her weapon back to its previous state, completely locked and saving the bullets from coming through the metal tube and she tosses it on top of the bed. 

“You were right,” She says, getting rid of the remaining strap of her dress and Shawn is more than confused, never putting his weapon down though. “This place brings me sweet memories.” He knows she’s not talking about the crime that’s happened in here. She’s talking about the first night they’ve met right on this same building. She was planning smaller things, like stealing a wonderful diamond necklace she’s been dying for and get some money out of unknown rich people’s wallets. Discreet and charming as only Y/N is, she obviously did it perfectly and as a bonus, she made out with the hottest man of the party in her eyes: Shawn Mendes himself. Since then and since he found out who she really is, it’s been a running back and forth like they’re stuck together by chains. She would never admit, but a few crimes here and there are just to catch his attention and make him come crawling back to her. The only thing he regrets about all of this is falling in love with her before knowing that she carries thousands of accusations, giving his work team a big headache. “What are you doing, Y/N?” Shawn asks, frowning as he watches her unzip her dress and pull it down her frame. She’s wearing a black strapless bra, matching with the belt hugging her right thigh and the lace underwear that he loves so much. Stepping out of her cloth pooled around her feet, she easily removes her heels with her feet and kicks them aside right after. “I’m doing what you really want me to do,” She calls him out unconsciously, looking him in the eyes seriously. “Or do you want to carry on with this little game?” “I told you I’m not kidding,” He prompts, forcing himself to ignore how stunning she looks in that lace set that gets him drooling. Gulping, he loosens the tie around his neck a little as he feels himself hardening to the sight of her. “Stop dissuading.” “You stop dissuading,” Y/N responds faking indignation, closing the space between them but being stopped by the cold metal of his gun. “Making me wait way too much, I’m getting impatient.” “Shut up and tell me what the fuck happened to Reagan.” “I can’t do both, love. I can either have you shutting me up or—“ “I swear to God I’ll—““You’ll what?” There’s a moment of silence after her question, making Shawn decide to put his career and rationality in front of his feelings. They’re glancing at each other, expressions falling flat and Shawn is huffing, puffing his chest and it makes the dress shirt get more constricted to his muscular middle. The anger is clear by the way they’re furrowing their brows, and Y/N makes the first move. Unbuckling his belt and keeping eye-contact, she releases the leather and pulls it away nonchalantly. The material goes behind her head and she lets it rest on her neck, sure that he’s wondering how hot she would look under him with that belt around her throat while her mouth opens for her to moan his name. She tucks the strap into the belt loop and, instead of inserting the pin into the hole, she takes his hand out of his pocket and makes him hold the belt. “You know why I’m not afraid of you, Shawn?” Y/N asks indifferently, undoing the buttons of his shirt and watching his skin being uncovered. Noticing more chest hair than he had last time they were together, she licks her lips and finishes the last buttons calmly. He’s holding the belt without a single dose of strength, too compelled by her body and skilled hand undressing him. “Because I’ve been giving you lots of chances to make your move and you’re letting them pass, as always,” She’s right, though. She let her guard down when she relaxed her body to laugh, as when she threw her gun away and kept on coming closer without a proper weapon to defend herself and, as if it isn’t enough, he’s got his belt decently arranged and ready to choke her at any second. Poor Shawn, too weak and too fucked. “But if you wanna do your thing like you say you want to…” Y/N starts, taking his wrist and closing the space between her and the gun — this one glued to her chest and he feels her heartbeat vibrate through the object, sending motions to his shaking hand. “Then go ahead. You know I’ve got nothing to lose.” “Y/N, what the f—““Go,” She assures, gulping and her eyes are starting to burn but she’s not planning on welcoming any tears. “Pull. The. Trigger.” Shawn squints his nose and his lips part, eyes widening while his fist shivers. She’s never played this far and although his reputation is slowly getting ruined, he’s thinking twice. Her look cuts his heart in half, making his chest ache and blood boil through his veins. “You can’t? Need help?” Her thumb descends and touches the trigger. She tilts her head to the side, making her hair cascade to her shoulder as she waits for his answer. Analysing his face tenderly, she notices the tears pooling in his eyes and they both ask quietly to themselves what the fuck are they doing to their lives? “I—““Again: You know why I don’t fear you?” Imperturbably, Y/N says in a sweet tone as her hands release the grip on his and go to cup his face, digits rubbing lovingly along his cheeks. “Because I know you’d never hurt me. You’re way too much in love with me to rip me apart with your bullets, investigator.” That burning sensation takes over his face and he’s sure he’s blushing, still shocked by this entire situation. As if nothing happened, she walks back and finds her dress long gone on the floor. Before, she catches her gun and puckers it back under the lace adorning her leg and tucks her feet inside the golden shoes. Soon, Y/N throws the dress above her head and covers her body while Shawn is frozen in his place, facepalming and massaging his temples. Why is she so hard to let go? Why can’t she prove him wrong and make him feel less guilty about loving her so much? He’s nothing but a joke when it comes to stalk and inspect her because the end is predictable: he’ll be on top of her, tangled into her legs surrounding his hips as he pounds forcefully inside of her core, making her scream as she praises him and begs for more. That’s all he wanted for tonight, if he’s honest. Shawn hears Y/N zipping up her cloth again and the footsteps back to his direction. She places a hand on his cheek and the other one on the doorknob beside him. “Promise me next time will be funnier than this and I’ll drop the name you’re dying to know,” She finishes and opens the door. “After an orgasm or two, of course.”

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfics #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes oneshots #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes blurbs #shawn mendes masterlist #mine #ficsofmine #requested

[ssttitdramon]

Tax The Rich [alternative title: Out]

Ramón Morales x Reader

Request from @im-just-babey: Hey bro, could I request a Ramón x reader where the reader has a wealthy but shit family.

-Rules for requests can be found here-

Word Count: 2,046

Note: For a while the only thing I had for this fic was “tax the rich” so that’s the title now. Also, you may have been expecting something where they’re rebellious and it’s all a big huge middle finger to the stuck up wealthy family, but uh it’s been a while since I wrote some spooky fuckery -since Ham Sandwich Boys- so I took the liberty of leaning more towards that. Sorry this took forever to post, thank you for your patience.

Ramón scrunches his nose, the house was as big as the mansions his aunts would tell him about. Si nomas vieras, ya parecen castillos.

Looking around at the extensive foyer, he takes in the double staircase and stained glass ceiling piece above him, he doesn’t feel right. Stepping foot into the lavish home was a mistake. Ramón needed to be on the road again, not letting himself get distracted by whatever this was. 

He’s not gonna tell you that, of course. Something told him to follow along with your eager eyes and smile.

“Well, what do ya think?” you ask as you jump on the first step of the left staircase. Ramón smiles and takes another look at the “french polish” you had mentioned on the staircase railing, whatever that meant. 

“It’s… a lot, but it’s nice.” he responds dryly and laughs at the unimpressed look on your face.

“You would hate listening to the guy that designed this house,” you begin to walk up the stairs as you imitate ol’ John, “Ah yes, I told Doris myself that the finishing Italian light oak stain would not be proper for the west study. Why, it would clash terribly with the evening sunset.” sending you two into a fit of giggles until you hear footsteps upstairs.

Ramón steps back from the stairs, “You sure no one's home? I don't want any trouble and I should get going anyway.”

You were confused too, your parents have been out for a week and the maids were given the weekend off, “No, I thought everyone would be out by today.” you respond, peeking at the empty hall upstairs. Even your siblings had planned a small trip to the beach for a couple of days without you.

Suddenly, you see your younger sister walk out of her bedroom, “And who’s that? Does dad know you’ve got a little friend here or should I tell him?” she snickers.

You roll your eyes, “Go ahead, I’ll join you and together we’ll see what he thinks about your secret powder stash you’ve got in your room.” you snap back, glaring at her as she descends from the right staircase.

“Fine,” she scowls and takes a quick look at Ramón before leaving, “but you better take out the trash while we’re out.” 

Ramón’s face gives away his discomfort and as you begin to apologize for your sister’s rude comment you hear a loud thud above you. “Did you hear that?” you ask him. You could’ve sworn the two of you would be alone by now. Another muffled thud, still somewhat louder than the first. 

“C’mon.” you wave him over. The two of you walk through two hallways and another flight of stairs, reaching the third floor living room. Then you hear it again, something shuffling from the attic, “Great.” you sigh.

Sharing an anxious look with Ramón, you pull down the squeaky attic ladder and stare into the darkness. "I haven’t been up there in a while.” you whisper, “It’s been under construction since the beginning of the year.” The attic was being remodeled as a space for you and your siblings, a plan agreed by everyone before they all started being complete assholes.

Ramón begins to climb up the ladder, "How many rooms do you really need?" he jokes and reaches for the temporary light switch on the floor beside the opening. He takes note of the iron set of lights over the double pool tables, the dark leather couches, the soft bearskin rug and a tall bookshelf that extended across the east wall, interrupted in the middle. The attic was half finished, but there was no sign of a recent disturbance. “Nothing’s up here.” he tells you.

You warily climb up the ladder, stand over the hardwood floor and look around. “They told me renovation was to be completed next month,” you eye down the dark unfinished half of the attic, “It had stopped a few weeks ago due to a ‘change of plans'.” you form air quotes with your fingers. You walk underneath the overhead attic light and listen to its strange buzz.

Ramón walks around one of the pool tables, rolling the cue ball under his palm, "What's that over there?" he points at the far corner of the unfinished half. The corner had boxes piled one on top of the other, held in place by bricks and several wood planks leaning against the pile.

You shrug, "The small closet, it might still be there behind all the junk."

Suddenly, you hear heavy breathing behind your right ear, making you both whip around as you slowly get closer to Ramón. You see nothing. Still, you couldn’t shake off the feeling of being watched.

"You uh, forgetting to tell me your house might be haunted?"

"Shit, I- no." you stammer, he raises his eyebrows. "I don't know, okay? I've been having weird dreams of the old maid since we let her go about a month and a half ago. I always see her standing at the edge of my bed.” you explain, remembering your last nightmare of Mrs. Clarice. You also recall dreams of another woman growling from inside your bedroom mirror, often joined by disembodied voices that would cry for revenge, curses and to be “let out”. You never understood the pain and anger in their words, until now as you stand on the other side of the tiny door. The tiny door anyone could just seal and forget about...

"Let her go?" Ramón interrupts your thought process, "Got any clue where she went?" 

"Well, my parents had also fired two other maids after her and they never told us why, nor did I think much about her absence until I began to have the nightmares.” you explain, panicking at the thought of what really happened to the three women. “Shit, you don’t think my parents-” you can’t bring yourself to finish your question as you begin to hyperventilate. Your head runs wild with possibilities of the women’s fate and what the closet could be hiding from the world.

You notice Ramón stand in front of you, blocking your view of the corner. He takes your shaky hands and asks you to slowly breathe in and out. “For all we know, those women are probably fine and you’ve just got a family of rabid raccoons holed up in there.” he suggests.

“What about my nightmares? She tries talking to me and I hear other voices. She seems like she’s angry and crying for something, like she’s hurt or-” 

“Trapped?”

You wipe tears away from your eyes, glance at the pile behind him and nod, “I might find her or something there.”

His silence is alarming and you turn to look at him, expecting an annoyed glare for dragging him into the situation. Instead, he turns around and takes a few steps back. You hear a floorboard creak under Ramón's foot, which somewhat prompts another thump from the boxes. Along with the buzzing of the overhead light that grows loud and erratic now.

Ramón turns to you wide eyed and as he’s about to speak, there’s another thump and a plank falls. Your heart begins to pound against your chest and you begin to hear a faint voice in your head, one of the few from your nightmares. “Out. I need out. Out. Out. Let me out.” 

You feel an invisible pull from the corner, sensing the voice in your head calling for you from underneath the pile. Suddenly, you feel Ramón grab your elbow, "Wait, I don’t think it’s a good idea to get closer."

"Someone is in there, behind all that. I can feel it." your eyes begin to sting, but you refuse to look away from the pile. 

Ramón feels it too, there is someone else in the attic. Their presence heavy on his shoulders, pressing on the back of your necks. Angry. Demanding. He knows that they, whoever they are, is not going let either of you leave now. 

"Fine, but we gotta be careful about this." he sighs and reaches for a long hammer inside an abandoned toolbox by the wall.

The two of you walk closer and hear ragged breathing from under the mess. He pokes one of the bottom boxes with the end of the hammer, but nothing moves. Your shaky hands begin to gently remove the planks and bricks. In silence. One by one. Ramón takes two boxes off from the top, surprised by their weight and opens both to find them full of sand. He attempts to push one of the larger boxes at the bottom, but it seems too heavy to move with one arm alone. 

“Someone’s definitely been hiding something in there.” he points out, “Do you still wanna dig through this?” 

You can still hear the voice ring inside your head, “Out. Out. Out.”

“No, I don’t,” you shake your head, “but we also can’t leave this, can we?”

He hums in agreement and the two of you continue moving the rest of the boxes. One by one as you remove the boxes, you notice an awful smell. Ramón notices as well and he asks again if you’d like to continue. 

You don’t, but you grab another box. 

You just want to get this over with. 

You grab another box. 

You just want the angry hissing in your head to be gone now.

Finally, you get to the bottom, the two of you work together to remove the remaining bulk. Once the last box in front of the small door budges, a pungent smell seeps out. You gag and Ramón begins to cough.

“Yup, there’s a dead body in there.” he declares and covers his nose with his jacket. He was right, any remaining hope you had of finding something else is gone now. 

You turn to look at him, “I’m sorry,” you cough, “just wanted to show you around and hang out. Not discover a fuckin’ body in my attic.” you give the box a kick.

Ramón smirks under his jacket, or maybe it’s a grimace; nevertheless, he wiggles his eyebrows, “It’s alright, just another casual hang out with a brat inside their castle. The usual.”

You laugh and shake your head, “You haven’t even seen our giant kitchen.” you quip. 

Thanks to Ramón, you feel numb, or rather prepared for the other side of the door. Sure, you barely met the guy only this morning and you’re on the brink of discovering what could be a corpse in your own home, but you feel like you can trust him. He could’ve left you to face this on your own, especially when he’s been itching to leave, yet he’s sticking around. You believe he’s simply interested enough to stay, but the concern in Ramón’s eyes tells you otherwise. He’s choosing to stay and face whatever is on the other side of the door with you.

“Alright, if anything jumps out, grab the hammer.” you bury your nose into your sweater, knowing it may not even mask the foul odor, but it wouldn’t hurt to try anyway.

On the count of three, you and Ramón push the last box away. The closet door is worn down and bits of the wooden panel in the middle stick out from the inside. You grab a nearby flashlight, turn it on and slowly open the door. The voice in your head dies down with a final “OUT.” and the buzzing of the overhead attic light stops.

Sure enough, you’re met with a swarm of flies, several maggots and three figures wrapped inside what used to be white sheets. The smell is overpowering and although you feel the urge to run from this, your eyes are drawn to the holes made at the mouths that have been cracked wide open, fear frozen in time. Above them each are two black circles, oozing dark liquid from underneath the sheets. 

You hear Ramón gag and you open your mouth to scream, yell, anything. Nothing. You attempt to reach for Ramón, barely able to move an inch. You turn your head to check on him. As soon as your eyes meet, you hear a pop echo from the closet. 

Then, as clear as day, a groan. 

“Out.”

-Feedback is always appreciated-

#ramon morales #scary stories to tell in the dark #ramon morales x reader #ssttitd #mine #this could be waaaay better

[a-pretty-nerd]

Wild Ride (Klaus Hargreeves x fem!reader smut)

Request: "The second one is where the kinky fuckery happens. So in the 2nd idea you get to let him be true to his sub heart and dominate his ass so like tie him tf up and peg the boy bc HE WOULD BE SO FUCKING DOWN." ~ @trickkombowerskru

"Would you do a fic about pegging Klaus and then riding him after please 🤠" ~ Anonymous

Wham Bam thank you ma'am 🤘❤

A/N: Oof, so many new Klaus requests! Lets get goin'! As always, your requests and feedback mean the world guys ✌💕

Warnings: NSFW, SEX, bondage, pegging, rough sex, so on and so forth

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

Klaus had a funny way of telling you he was feeling on the sub side. He would have this habbit of acting similar to a sad puppy. Sure, Klaus was always a lil sub and femme, but the sexual side always started with something very specific. For example, Klaus would often stuff his face into the crook of your neck and then proceed to plant very sweet and gentle kisses across your flesh. His hands would very slowly creep up your arms until they reached your shoulders. At this point, you would drag your hands down his chest and rest then on his hips. He loves it when you hold him by his hips. It makes him feel safe.

This night in particular, Klaus was feeling very vulnerable and needy. It started, at your desk. Where you sat and tried your best to finish some leftover work. You heard the footsteps enter your shared room, but they stopped very suddenly. You paused, and listened. When you heard nothing you asked,

"Klaus?"

"Yes, sunshine?" He cooed. He reached his hands around the chair and rested them firmly on your shoulders. He leaned forward and rested his chin on your shoulder where he kissed your cheek.

"Are you about ready for bed?" You asked. Klaus took a deep breath before he stood back up, and then took a few steps before swinging his leg around you so he sat down in your lap. Your hands instinctually sat on in hips.

"Not really." He was already half naked, nothing but a pair of briefs decorated with eccentric colors and patterns. If that wasn't distracting enough, what laid beneath was. A smile stretched across your lips as you ran your hands down his thighs, back up and then down to his ass. You groped him as you watched him from above. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath of pleasure as you ran your fingers over his flesh.

"Is someone a little sensitive today?" You asked. Klaus nodded with a small whimper before looking back down at you with a lustfilled gaze. "Well sweetheart, it looks like you'll be keeping me away from my work."

"Oh! You and your work!" Klaus huffed like a fustrated house wife, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You know what that means, don't you?" Klaus relaxed and nodded again. You pulled him a little closer to gently kiss and nibble his neck before harshly slapping his ass. It made him jump and whimper with glee. "I'll have to punish you."

Klaus made his way to bed a little too quickly. He laid down on his back while you removed rope from the bottom drawer of the bedside table. Klaus watched you strattle him to keep him down as you leaned over to tie his wrists to the headboard of your bed. He tried to pull out of them to test it, but at this point, you had gotten too good for him to break free. Where you sat, you could already feel his bulge grow against your ass.

You pulled yourself off of him and proceeded to rumage through the bottom drawer where you kept all your toys and other dirty artifacts. Finally, you removed a bottle of lube and placed it firmly on the bedside table.

"What are you going to do?" He asked with a fake sense of fear, playing along as he loved to do. You smiled as you finished getting completely undressed. You didnt answer until you finally pulled out the belt and dildo.

"I'm gonna fuck you senseless." Klaus's eyes practically lit up. You strapped the belt and dildo onto yourself before climbing back over him on the bed. You leaned over and gave him a password and heated kiss before you sat up again. Adjusting yourself so the cock strapped to you sat at his lips. "Go on." You told him. He looked up at you with his big eyes as he licked his lips and parted them slowly. You loved how sweet and vulnerable he looked as he took in the head, and began sucking and licking. Soon, his was bobbing his head up and down, taking in as much as he could until you placed your hand st the back of his head and pressed it all the way down to the base. He made a muffled made as he stayed there for a moment, looking up at you once again. Finally you pulled it out and away, leaving a string of spit running down his chin. "Fuck, you're practically bursting out of these, aren't you?" You asked as you sat between his legs and saw his struggling boner in his underwear.

"Mmhm." He moaned. You placed a hand st the visible based and ran it across his twitching length. He let out a sharp breath as he closed his eyes. You smiled and finally pulled them off and down his legs. His cock sprung free almost enthusiastically, if you could call a dick enthusiastic. Klaus's almost always was. Especially when he was be teased and dominated. You took it in your hand and stroked it a few times before running your thumb across the tip a few times. You felt a small amount of precum leak from it.

You looked up at him, his head back against the headboard with his eyes closed, enjoying your touch. He opened them and looked down at you when you removed your hand, curiously watching you. You took the bottle of lube and poured a small amount in your hand before snaking your fingers down to his ass. Klaus's eyes trailed back up to the ceiling where he then closed them as you inserted one of your fingers inside. He gave a content moan as you began to finger him with a second. He bent his knees and spread them to give you more room.

"Ready?" You asked him. He smiled and gave a nod, his eyes still closed. You poured lube across the dildo and stroked it a few times before positioning it at his entrance. You slowly pressed in, which made his jaw drop.

"Ohhhh fuuuuuck." He gasped as you pressed further and further into him until your reached the base. You stayed still from just a moment before you started to move. Slowly thrusting in and out of him as he gave soft moans and whimpers. "Fuck, baby." He moaned and you started to move faster, harder. Finally getting into the motion as you started to fuck him. He held his legs up higher for you to get deeper, hitting his G-spot. It made his eyes roll into the back of his head as he moaned your name loudly. "Oh god, yes!" He cried as you slammed your hips into his ass. At one point reached to scratched down his thighs which made him hiss with pleasure. "Oh oh I'm gonnna- mmgh I'm gonna cum!" He cried. You pulled back quickly, pulling out of him and sitting above as you watched him groan and squirm uncomfortably.

"Not just yet, darling." You unstrapped the belt and tossed it aside on the bed. Klaus watched you with a small pout before he bit his lip and gave another satisfied moan as you pressed a buttplug into him. You the poured lube on his cock, stroking him a few times before strattling him once again. This time, sliding his cock deep inside of you as you gave a small moan of pleasure. You started bouncing on him, slowly rocking your hips on him.

"Ohhh god, thats good." He grunted as you rode him. "Thats it, fuck me" He practically shouted. You held out your hand wrapped it around his neck. He gave a small chuckle as you choked him gently. You panted and moan uncontrollably as you fucked him, rocking the mattress against the wall so it made a repeated creeking sound. You felt warmth rush over you body as you got closer and closer. Klaus started to struggle against his restraints. Normally, when you rode him he loved to hold you and feel you. But not he was unable to, and it annoyed him more than anything else.

"Oh fuck." You moaned loudly as you continued to ride him. He gazed up at you and watched you, your eyes closed, pleasure and need flowing through your veins.

"Yes baby cum, cum on my cock." He encouraged, the closer he got, the more he broke the character from foreplay. The more he just needed and wanted to release. Your jaw dropped as your orgasm washed over you, pushing Klaus closer to his as he threw his head back. He closed his eyes tightly and grit his teeth as he came shortly after you. You sat there panting for a moment, thouroughly spent. You lifted yourself off of Klaus and fell down bedside him. He huffed with a giggle.

"Mh, I needed that." You smiled.

"Me too." Klaus panted with a satisfied smile. "Say, would you mind?"

"Oh yeah." You untied him, cleaning and tossing all used items back inside the drawer before closing it, and plopping back into bed. Klaus snuggled up to you, giving you a sweet kiss.

"Mmh. You're so good to me." He cooed.

"You're good to me." You smiled back before sharing another loving kiss.

#the umbrella academy smut #the umbrella academy #klaus hargreeves smut #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus x reader #klaus hargreeves #umbrella academy klaus #klaus hargreeves x reader smut #klaus hargreeves x fem!reader smut

[sabine-leo]

1,5 K - Writing Challenge

Hey there sweet readers!! I just came back home from a weekend offline to find my blog hit 1,5K followers. First of all : THANK YOU SO MUCH !!! 

When I started I never thought there would be people out there liking what I write! 

To celebrate I´d like to try something new. How about a writing challenge where everybody who wants can join in! Alright, let´s start then...

RULES: 

Deadline is September 8th (just let me know if you need an extension)

Please tag me with @sabine-leo in your post and add an #sabine-leowritingchallenge to your tags

Should ne an X / reader  fic 

Tag with appropriate warnings!!! 

Send an ask with the prompt / who you´d like to write about OR prompt / Setting / who OR setting / who 

NO underage, incest !

 About WHO?! : 

Tom Hiddleston & ALL characters he´s played (Loki, Adam, Pine, ...) 

Bonus points if you´d like to add Benedict Cumberbatch/ Dr. Strange or Tony Stark / RDJ as his friend

Prompts: 

But Friends don´t look at each other the way we do! 

Let´s see...which emotional issus shall I burry under a heavy layer of sarcasm today?!

I didn´t mean to push all your buttons, I was just looking for mute!

Onward buttercup, there is fuckery to spread!

You wanna come over and come over and over and over ?

Just remember, when we get caught I´m deaf and you don´t speak english!

I suck at cuddling! After 15 minutes I will likely be touching your privat parts! 

Been there...done that. Than been there serveral other times, because apparently I DON`T LEARN! 

I know right from wrong!! Wrong is the FUN one! 

When I want your opinion I´ll remove the duct tape

Pay attention on the battle, you two. Or your romance might turn into a tragedy.

We are about to go on stage and your face is covered in lipstick! 

This is SO going onto the DVD extras !!

I don´t want to fake date you any longer!

“You are it!”  “But I don´t want to play tag!” “I never meant THAT!”

 You´re gonna have to limp faster than that! 

Are you wearing my shirt?! 

Don´t get up! I am comfortable like this! 

Come over here and make me! 

Why are you naked in my bed?

Looks like we will be trapped for a while

It´s not what it looks like!!

PLEASE don´t post that!! 

I said create a distraction...NOT (LIKE) THIS! 

Situations / Settings: 

Caught kissing in an elevator

Messing up a scene to kiss again and again and again

Rainy summer-night on a beach 

Night of shooting stars on a beach/rooftop

Drunken Whispers 

A night of games with friends 

Karaoke fun

Blind date 

Fighting together

Sleepless Nights 

Lost on Midgard / Asgard

Riling each other up with dirty talk 

If something is marked is is taken BUT you can send an ask if it can be taken for another character or in combination with other prompts :) 

Well, that would be it so far !! THANKS in advance for joining in !!!

If you´d like, reblog this post to spread the word!! 

Can´t wait to read some good oneshots, drabbles or whatever you can think of!! 

HUGS! 

Sabine

#writing challenge #sabine-leowritingchallenge #tom hiddleston #loki god of mischief #Adam #Pine #jonathan pine #prince hal #thomas william hiddleston #Loki Laufeyson #fanfiction #fanfic #followers #celebration

[courtorderedcake]

Hallow : ch XIII - CSSNS 2019

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

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

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

Read on AO3 here.

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

Written for @cssns

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The voice changed in timbre and tone as it sometimes did, easily digging its points home. Killian could practically see his father, drunk and dismissive, shouting at Liam and beating them both bloody under one of the massive pines. The memory of watching Liam with a broken jaw as he went into his first year in the junior naval recruits was the one it dug its claws into, the Darkness fueling old anger and shame. 

YOU SAW HER HIDE FROM YOU, YOU COULD HAVE EASILY WORKED YOUR WAY UNDER HER SKIN AND GOTTEN HER FOLLOWING YOU TO NIL. YOU COULD HAVE EVEN PRESSED FOR THE SHARD, IF SHE WAS TRULY AT HER WIT'S END - INSTEAD YOU TRIP OVER YOUR TONGUE LIKE A BOY! AN IMBECILE! 

It pressed him, but he was not weak. He could crush his father ten times over now if the bastard wasn't dead, and no one could get under his skin again. Certainly not some crying woman, especially the daughter of an enemy, and such a valuable card to hold in play if he wanted to be free. Maybe he had told Alice too much about his worries over Emma, while Robyn watched with bewildered dismay. Maybe he blurted how she was acting, and they thought that he was showing weakness or worry. Imagined of course, there was nothing - 

SHE BEWITCHES YOU INTO SYMPATHETIC STUPOR, SHE FILLS YOU WITH IDEAS OF REDEMPTION YOU DO NOT DESERVE, YOU ARE SO CLOSE TO YOUR REVENGE, OUR REVENGE, AND YOU FAIL ME. I MUST PUNISH YOU, I MUST HURT YOU. 

He braced himself; the pain of broken bones as he folded into himself was enough to make him wish for true death. 

I WISH YOU WERE DEAD, FREEING MYSELF FROM YOUR INEPTITUDE WOULD BE A BLESSING WELL MET WITH YOUR DEATH. 

They both knew it was fruitless, the idea impossible while the dagger was still broken. He would survive the pain, and the Darkness would greet him in its vengeance without fail. With eyes closed tightly, he braced himself for what was to come. 

Instead of pain, though, it cackled, and Killian felt more fear than before. 

Oh yes, feel that fear, Dearie. No more physical pain for today. You mentioned strategy - I have a strategic plan for you, regarding a fitting punishment; the sort worthy of this sort of betrayal. You've been misbehaving without consequences too long now, your leash forgotten. Do you remember when you failed to stop Snow Margueryte and her Charming? Do you remember how I tormented you for your failure? 

Killian shook his head in horror. Not that. 

Oh yes, that. It's time for your nightmare. I'll provide you mercy and heal you first… Be patient, for when I'm done we'll begin my favorite game with you. We haven't played in such a long time… 

His bones began to knit back together, cracking into place noisily and sloppily. Emma's voice suddenly echoed into his chamber, breaking through the Darkness' cackling. 

"Dark One!" She was blazing with rage and light magic, Killian barely able to stand upright at her advance. The Darkness felt licks of her fury strike, its yowls of pain as it hid itself away a bitter requiem of relief. 

Killian gritted his teeth as he adjusted his frame to lean against the wall, his body still healing slowly even as the Darkness exited. "Princess?" he rasped. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she shrieked; he thought she might move to strike him, to hear the venom with which she spat the question out. "You went through Ariel? Through Alice and Robyn? Through Eric and Marta? Did you think that I would not find out immediately or that they would not tell me of your attempt at deceit? What information did you hope you could squeeze from them while I was dealing with the consequences of my failures? You already know all of them, what could you possibly use against me now?"

He winced, and not all from pain. A vague guilt that had a name - remorse perhaps? 

“That wasn't the reason, I didn't - I wanted to -"

"I don't want anything to do with you. How many times do I have to -" Emma's magic hit him again, his corroded mind practically melting as her magic burnt the Darkness where it attempted to remain stuck to his bones. His knees wobbled. 

"Emma, I just need you to know -" 

Emma interrupted as he tried to take a breath, sweat beading on his forehead. "No. No, you don't need me to, you want me to. Big difference, buddy, and I have a choice in whether or not I listen. I don't want to listen."

His voice sounded small to his own ears. "I just want to know that you're okay."

Emma laughed, her eyes wild and teeth bared. "You know that I'm okay, that I am just dealing with a war, deaths, betrayals, figuring out who to trust and who isn't a monster. You've known I was alright since I left you, since I didn't come back - it's you who isn't alright. You’re scared. I don't blame you for it either; I can't imagine how it must feel to be unable to make your own choices, but I am not and cannot be your crutch. Find someone else."

Nodding, he scrubbed his face, and then carded his hand through his hair. "I thought - Never mind. Please just - You'll have to take care of yourself to survive. Keep yourself safe, and the shard; talk to Ursula and Ariel, alright? I was - I thought they might be concerned for you, and I am sorry for bothering them. And you. That's all. Nothing else."

Marta poked her head in, clearing her throat. "Uh, Killian. Ursula has a ship ready for you, and she's requested that you leave immediately. I've offered to go with you part of the way to make sure you don't do anything else untoward."

Emma snorted, spitefully. "Thanks Marta. Sorry you got the short straw."

Marta sighed. "Princess, do you need me to -" 

"I'm fine," Emma snapped. "Just about done here." Marta gave a nod, taking her leave. 

"I'm going to leave then," Killian said.

"Good. If we never meet again it will be too soon."

"If it means anything, I'm glad you are safe. I'm glad the shard is safe. I am glad you are with people who can help you, and who are… good at protecting you. I don't - you don't have to worry if they are trustworthy, and they won't fail you. Goodbye, Princess."

"Farewell, Dark One." 

He walked in a daze to the place where his ship waited, uncaring and unaware of the Selkies booing him, the food and trash thrown at him, of Ursula, Eric, Ariel, Alice, and Robyn watching his trek out of the caves with Emma. He stared, Eric and Ariel openly glaring, Robyn giving him the same squinted look of confusion that she had previously, and Alice too busy talking to Emma. 

To distract her from him. A dull heaviness pushed down on his shoulders, weight settling in his stomach. 

Marta was already waiting for him on the ship, a look of pity for him on her face. "Ready?" she inquired softly. He nodded, and they drew anchor. The ship moved through the calm water, everything quiet as they departed, including the voices that made up the Darkness. 

The portal out was a one way exit, the ship's wheel in his hands a steadying comfort. They caught the breeze, leaving the tranquility of the underwater oasis and sailing off the proverbial edge of Ursula's world to land in stormy waters. 

He had to blink a few times as a bright green bolt of blinding lightning cracked in the heavens. The storm was massive, and he followed its course along the horizon, seeing an armada skirting a hurricane before it hit something unseen, the clouds breaking apart. Killian ran to the stern, Marta joining him with a hand over her mouth. 

Ursula's caves flickered into view, appearing like a great bubble from the sea floor by some otherworldly force. As the caves crested the surface, the protective forces that had been shielding the caves broke with a resounding force, the huge crash as they struck the surface to sink again sending a shockwave through the water. Their ship pitched back and forth as they held steady to her moorings; the water had become a roiling mess of waves from the magic radiating off of the fleet in the distance. Green lightning struck the water all around it, and even from their distance Killian could see floating carcasses and the mass of birds seeking carrion, the water a sickly olive color. The storm began again, and Killian brought the spyglass in his pocket to his eye to examine the strangest fleet of mismatched ships Killian had ever seen, and tethered at its front was the cause of this destruction - King of the Merfolk, the previous King of the Sea: Ursula's brother, Triton. 

Shuddering in disbelief of the King's fate, even if deserved, Killian tried to map and count the plan of attack from their positions. Frigates, sloops, and even a few galleons were interspersed with metal rusting boats in styles Killian had never seen. The largest was something Elsa had called a barge, and it led the ships as the storm beat around them, the towering man with a large, dirty, grey beard at the lead. Focusing with a twist, he surveyed Triton further. The partial God was bruised and emaciated, held by a golden collar around his neck that linked to the barge with its towering blocks of rectangular metal boxes. Following the chain from the man’s collar to a raised dais that lay on a deck, Neal lounged nearby in a windowed observation level, looking bemused. Triton was under the control of the prince, his powers controlled by Nil's desire to possess Emma. 

But they would never, never get through to Ursula - 

Triton waved a large trident around, and the storm sparked with green and purple electricity. Ursula's secret realm lurched into view again as he spun the weapon with skill, before it sunk below in another huge crash. Their ship creaked ominously as the waves sent them flying. Triton bellowed loudly, making Marta whimper next to Killian. 

"We have to go back," Marta whispered, watching Killian close the spyglass. 

"Go back? For what, the pleasure of being ripped apart by Goblins and a demi-god? She doesn't want me there, what good -" 

Marta slapped him hard, changing from a highborn prim matron to the visage of a livid sorceress. 

"Stop thinking about yourself for one damned minute, you narcissistic clam! Even if that is the Darkness in you, recognize that this is bigger than you or your princess - my friend and my people are about to be slaughtered. I know what you did. I know how you exploded over that fleet like some sort of comet, and how you screamed the entire time begging for forgiveness. I was there in the water, before and after. I watched you kill those men, I saw them die; it took days to get the blood out of my pelt. Are you really going to let that happen again? Even if they aren't your people?"

Remembering the Darkness and its threat of reliving his worst nightmares, Killian paused. A spark lit his chest into a blaze. 

"If you wanted to die so badly, you could not have chosen a more reckless bastard willing to assist." He turned the ship, heading straight towards Triton and the Goblin fleet. 

What are you doing?! 

Killian felt the Darkness wake again, still weakened. Reading his thoughts, it quieted at the promise of a battle, the idea of any sort of confrontation too delicious to push back against. It acquiesced to his intended course, lending strength that made Killian grin ferally. 

They had just passed where the portal had spit them out when he heard the noise of another ship close by, only slightly behind. It caught up with them in an instant, and he had to blink; the silhouette was so familiar, the way it glided through the water as if it flew, almost like the Jewel but not quite - 

The thought was obliterated as Emma came into view on the deck, her hair whipping around her scowling face. 

  *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

  "Get her out of here. This place is about to be a war zone if they manage to pit Ursula against Triton," Marta yelled at Emma's vessel, pointing to where Triton moved the water in huge eddies, the sea opening up and closing. 

Ariel yelled back, obviously frustrated and pointing at Emma. "We told her that, she -" 

"This is what Emma wants to do! We need to help Ursula, and we need to help your father, so why are you so oblivious you twit?" Alice marched toward Ariel, pointing, no longer soft spoken. 

"Of course I want to save my father, but how the hell is she going to help when she isn't even in her right mind!" Ariel spat, before regret played across her features. "Emma, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that in the way -" 

Alice and Robin cut off Ariel, though their words were lost to a forceful gust of wind. Alice looked livid, gesturing at Ariel to the point that Eric had stepped in and tried to separate them. Emma looked frozen in place, opening her mouth to say something, but thought better of it and retreated. Killian caught her eye, but she just looked through him, and instead jumped when thunder boomed over their heads.

Wind ripped at their own sails, Marta running to the front of the ship as Killian raced toward the back, glancing over to see Emma's sleeker vessel roll in the waves. The storm itself seemed concentrated around them suddenly, growing in ferocity. Massive waves, fueled by Triton’s powers, drew up shipwrecks that crashed into their vessels, jostling the princess and sending Eric to the wheel to frantically steer. Ariel was red with rage, screaming at Alice and Eric, while Emma tried to get their attention. 

Killian yelled at them to stop, but they only pointed their shouts at him, rain now pouring down on them like the sky had opened. 

Emma let out a scream of frustration, and Killian could see it before it happened, moving with a rope in his hand as he threw back the last of the vial in his pocket, jumping into the water only moments after Emma lost her balance and flew over the side. 

  *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

  "Stop fighting, it's making the storm - " Emma shouted, but it was drowned out over the roar of waves, the downpour, and the brawl. A wave tore at her, and she was thrown roughly to the deck, her hand catching a rope for support. The wind whipped the rigging skyward, her cuff falling away as she flew off the planks and into the ocean. 

The water hit her full on, taking her breath away. She scrambled for the cuff, realizing too late it was lost in the sea. The dark water was freezing, crushing her in the indeterminate up and down. In a panicked moment she tried to summon the cuff, and when her magic simply sputtered, she tried to conjure air. No bubbles formed around her, her magic strained or weakened by Nil's influence on the sea. Fighting against the current left the air in her lungs burning, but she could not give in. A life of no more sky was how all of her nightmares seemed to end: here in the silence of drowning, in a life with Nil, or surrounded by darkness that was too alive. What would her mother say? Her father? With their fiercest faces on, speaking of honor and hard won peace - 

"We never give up in this family, Emma. We always find another. Good always wins."

Now she wanted desperately to ask at what cost? At what cost did good win, when this was good? Good should not be having to struggle, banished from a realm for no more reason than hatred, locked away forever or until you could be of use, punishments that were cruel and unusual - that wasn't good winning. 

That cost didn't need to be paid when there were so many other paths available. If only they had sought wisdom, if they had reached out and tried to see what might be good for all… Emma wished that she could have helped them do better, that maybe if she wasn't drowning, if they weren't imprisoned, if the weight of what they built hadn't come crashing down, they all could have changed things. 

Her eyes blurred and bright spots burst in her vision. Blackness closed in, her magic dampened, embracing the beginning of the end, until a hand grabbed her own. It pulled hard, tearing through the water. A blue light came from somewhere in the dark, but when she reached for it Emma felt her legs touch a tail, hand tingling from shock. There was no way it was him; Ariel was right that she had lost her mind, this was just some strange vision before she would wake in her bed. Arms wrapped tightly around her, pulling her upwards, trying to beat the water that leaked into her mouth and nose, and there were his eyes, like he actually - 

Landing on hard wood with a thud, she could dimly hear voices of concern, but mostly she could see a soaking wet Killian looking down at her in fear. Emma coughed, choking on water as he watched her, breathing in harshly himself and falling back to his elbows. Too weak to move away from him and much weaker still to try to ask why, she stared at him in angry confusion. 

"You really need to stop drowning around me," he said in explanation, wiping wet hair away from his face, as if it meant nothing. "It's a terrible way to go, and I have made it abundantly clear that I will not let you."

Emma couldn't help the laughter that bubbled out of her at the absolute absurdity of everything, the hurt in her chest from the lack of oxygen, and how much hatred she wanted to feel even though she could not summon it. 

"I'll try and keep that in mind. Thank you," Emma whispered with as much annoyance as she could muster. Killian cracked a cheeky grin, and Emma felt the urge to punch him rise. 

"Emma, I'm so sorry. We realized that you were gone after he was jumping off the other side after you - " Alice rapidly began, before crushing Emma in a hug. The rest of her friends gathered, the storm calming around them on both ships. 

There was a loud splintering crack as more of Ursula's realm was pulled from hiding. Goblins threw ropes at the caves, climbing like spiders into the network of tunnels as Selkies launched their own bare defenses until they were dragged out in nets. 

A massive tentacle broke from the water, smacking hard against Triton as Ursula pushed free into the onslaught. Ariel gasped, and Marta began frantically pacing the deck. 

"What do we do?" Marta asked. Everyone turned towards Killian, who looked at his feet. 

"Don't look at me," he snapped, pointing to Emma. "The princess here does a far better job at improvisation methods. Ask her, she's your leader."

Emma blinked, staring at Killian with a suspicious glare. She thought for a moment, pushing past everything that had happened, her fears evaporating as she moved into planning. 

"We help Ursula, and we help the Selkies. Eric will pilot to Ursula, while some of us take the other ship and destroy what we can of Nil’s armada." She spoke calmly, delegating tasks quickly and methodically cycling through what they would need. "Ursula needs more time to try and get her denizens all out, so we need to make any sort of distraction we can. We can draw them away or at least split their forces if he knows I'm here."

"That is a terrible - " Ariel began, but Emma stopped her with a harsh tone. 

"If you have nothing better to offer, Ariel, I don't want to hear it."

Ariel managed to look shocked, before swallowing with a nod. "Let's free my father."

They split as a group, Emma giving Marta a solemn nod when they turned away to head towards Nil, Eric steering their ship straight into the formation. Killian forced his way between two ships in the rear, blending in easily, using their mix of styles to his advantage. It wasn't until the the first ship lay silent and burning that any attack looked like it was taking place. At least he could do this; maybe they could do this and for once take a victory. 

Marta steered hard into a barely held together wooden sloop. Alice and Robyn wreaked chaos with strange smoke bombs detonated by arrows while Killian lit sails on fire, the Goblins seemingly not understanding why liberally leaving petrol around could be a problem. The armada's wooden ships burned hot in the water, making the storm even eerier, green lightning mixed with the bright reds of the flames creating barriers for any course direction. It was clear that the Goblins were not familiar with any Naval strategy, and Emma felt a small surge of hope. Eric had a steady hand as he watched Ariel create portals, shutting them around longer vessels when they were halfway through with screeching crunches. 

The Goblin fleet took notice, but Nil made no move for Emma as their ship took fire. Eric and Ariel disappeared onto a steel boat with a claw like contraption while Emma tried to magic herself onto another ship’s deck without success. Her hands trembled, sparks finally lighting and sending her sprawling on a shiny silver floor surrounded by huge containers stacked on each other. A Goblin stared at her in confusion before she lunged, plunging her sword into its chest out of instinct. The Goblin fell with a thud, and Emma began to run. These ships were long and easy to cross. Her mind was made up to get to Nil before he could get to the Selkies. 

Killian appeared in the middle of the last surviving holdout of metal barges, pursued as he jumped across a row of metal containers above Emma while she herded a group into the space below. The Goblins above carelessly knocked containers down in a tumble, burying her pursuers. Emma met his eyes briefly, giving him a nod.

They continued through the maze of metal on opposite sides of each other, flowing into an easy strategy together that made her angrier still at Nil - angry that she could possibly consider working again with the Dark One. It was too simple to fall back into their unfriendly truce. The thought had barely crossed her mind when the wood under her feet splintered and bowed, her feet slipping as the barge tipped forward, barreling towards the sea floor. The impact of the hull against the rocky ground sent her flying, the noise alone reverberating through her teeth like she was shattering as the rocks came towards her at frightening speed. 

The same black blur as before pushed her into swirling water. The force of the whirlpool crushed them both, but her hand crushed his even harder while he pulled upward. Water resettled again as they gasped for air together at the surface, Killian’s hair sticking flat against his face. The water was full of debris and flame, smoke making it impossible to see much of anything. Ships ground together all around them as he helped her cling to a chunk of wood. It was in both of their best interests for her to be alive and uninjured, but here he was playing some sort of savior that went far beyond the bounds of their truce. He was behind her, at her side, or in sync with her step, both of them working together with an ease as if they were partners, and yet that’s not what they were. It made her angry, furious even, even in the midst of battle. 

"Killian, what - " But before she could finish, she was forced to push him frantically out of the way as a huge chunk of a rock formation fell, the resulting force smacking them together. "Look out, go!" 

More rocks fell around them and cut through the smoke, Ursula's lair appearing again to all as its protective shields flickered to a shuddering halt, the walls looming over them as it hurtled downwards again towards the sea floor. One of the main chambers swallowed them as the lair descended, pushing water aside as it split around them, crystals raining down in sparkling pieces. Caught in the push back of the water, they were pulled with the mass of rock as it fell away and began settling into the bottom of the sea. The force of the ensuing wave, however, pushed them back up and over the surface, Emma's back smacking against what was once the cave floor. The two pieces were still crumbling, but now sat horizontally in the water to create an invisible shoreline made of stone. Emma had little time to acknowledge where she landed, the wind escaping her lungs when she tried to shriek and shield her body from another round of the boulders. Killian pulled her into a roll, ending up above her breathing heavily. 

"G'off - " Emma let out a panted breath from under him, weakly protesting at his weight. "Catch your breath, and g'off!"

Killian rolled off of her onto his back, letting out puffs of air as he did. 

"Sorry," he rasped, and finally pushed his hair out of his face with a wet slap. Emma let out a laugh, regretting it instantly as she coughed. 

"S'alright." Propping herself upright on her elbows, she quickly glanced around the cave fragment where they had washed up, now its own small island in the turmoiled sea. Standing and peering around the cracked rock, her breath caught again. 

Ursula's realm was broken into pieces around the remaining ships, cracked and jagged mountains of what was once the cave jutting out of the water. The piece they were sequestered on was at the outer edge, so obscured by smoke that they could not see Ursula at all until Triton's first blow landed and swept the billowing clouds away. 

The brother and sister stood in the water in front of Nil's barge, both of them colossal and struggling against each other’s strength as Ursula's tentacles wrapped around the trident. Nets were thrown towards what was left of the caves, dragging selkies into a cargo hold, the water carrying sounds of distress to her ears. Emma slipped through the crack, running towards the water, but there he was in her peripheral, because of course he was. Of course he would stalk her even in the middle of a battle - 

"Don't you dare tell me not to do this, not to do something - " Emma hissed, putting more distance between them. He stood slightly in front of her, but made no move to stop her. 

"I wasn't going to," Killian replied with a sideways glance, following slightly behind when she pushed past. "Do you have a plan?" he asked when they got closer, nets hauling in screaming women and seals. 

"Get the Selkies out and turn Nil's focus fully on me so that Ursula can free Triton. Nil doesn't care about his people or how many die; he will only notice if a new plaything is put in front of him. I don't know how much time Ursula needs, but that's my last resort plan."

"I have a plan, and it should buy you time if you - " 

"Trust you again?" She whirled on her heel back towards him. "That's below even my last resort plan. I will never - " 

"I've betrayed you, and I understand that you owe me nothing, Em - Princess, but I swear to you now that I give you my fealty. I swear on Milah, Liam, and Elsa that I will be your ally, and help you in this war. Take a leap of faith here, please, I promise you that - " She turned away. Killian tried to follow, but she held up a hand. 

"Shut the hell up, Killian. Just stop. Please." Her voice wavered slightly, and he halted behind her. Seeing him look actually admonished, actually concerned as he pushed wet hair away from his face, Emma lowered herself into the water. 

"Fair enough." He whispered.

"By the way," her shoulders tightened, though she didn’t bother to glance at him, "if you're really sorry, truly apologetic even in some part of you that can still muster that emotion, a true apology would be changed behavior. Which is why if I am faced with you and Nil as my options, I will take this dagger shard to the bottom of the sea. I’d rather die than pick either of you."

"I am - " 

"I don't care, Killian. Thank you for your help here, and thank you for saving my life. It does not change anything."

Emma propelled herself forward into one of the nets, leaving him behind again. It dragged her and several frightened Selkies up over a deck, depositing them into some sort of holding cage. Emma moved quickly, cutting through the ropes with a knife that Ursula had given her. Handing it off to a nymph, Emma lifted herself from the floor with discarded netting, looking around to see what all was taking place.

Emma spotted Ariel in a corner, waving for her attention and pointing to a wall with a circling finger. She could make a portal; good - a quiet and easy way to get the Selkies to safety. Emma motioned to the groups of Selkies netted on deck, prioritizing those who were held down by Goblins or in view of the archers taking aim near the King's raised area. The first two attempts were straightforward, no Goblins milling around to stop them. The third was more harrowing, almost cut short by a Goblin's shrieking. Killian snapped its neck from behind as Emma braced herself for discovery, her eyes widening further when he ducked down and helped her cut through a heavy cord that bound the Selkies. They split apart again, the last groups too close to the front and at risk of being directly under a rain of archers. There was a shadowy section of boxes that she could dip behind for cover, but without the archers’ eyes distracted, it would be impossible to get to. Killian signaled from a corner, ducking behind a tarp when a patrol went by. 

Emma stayed still in the hold, pleading with her eyes, trying to tell him that she needed only a little time. He gave her a slight downcast smile, almost a grimace but not quite, and sprung from hiding. Slashing and hacking at a set of Goblins to provide a distraction as she ran to cut the last nets, he made his way toward the front of the huge metal ship until Nil bellowed. Nil pointed one of his gnarled fingers at Killian, eyes widening in recognition as his face turned from anger, to a smile. He laughed, opening his hands and spreading his arms as if presented with an old friend. 

Watching with a sick feeling churning in her gut, she saw Killian bow lowly. To her great horror, his wide, crooked, grin was once again back. 

  *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

  The bow he gave was met by several Goblins overtaking him, beating him as they placed shackles on his arms and legs. They weighed heavily, burning against his skin. Iron. Of course it was iron; it was earth, after all. Goblins were right behind Dwarves with their affinity for earth magic, able to bend iron with ease. 

Nil walked towards him wearing a fur cape draped over his shoulders that sparkled in the dim light. Killian could see that it was a poorly crafted blend of Merscale, Selkie pelts, and varying Ansapi skins. Even despite Nil’s garish and disgusting costuming, Killian saw the faintest glimpse of Milah in the man's unsure eyes. Then, the Goblin smiled broadly, and any trace of her was wiped away. 

"You made it!" Nil bellowed, seemingly overjoyed as his guard looked on in confusion, ignoring the lifeless bodies that lay around the ship and its strange cargo pillars, marking Killian’s path. 

Killian struggled slightly, testing his bonds as they seared the flesh. "Certainly did," he hissed. 

"Where is my Queen? My radiant bride-to-be and future submitting wife?" Nil practically sang. Killian could see his mouth was wet, the too long tongue in his mouth slick with salivation. 

Killian suppressed the disgust that threatened to spill over at the prince’s language. 

The Darkness caressed his bones, tickling gently under his skin. 

Tell him. Do it. End this. 

Killian set his jaw, thinking of Emma's hand on the barrier she had created in the woods, the way her brows had pinched and lips had turned down. She had trusted him briefly, even going so far to say that he had good inside of him when she first forgave him, and to say she wished him peace when she left. 

There had been a moment when she hesitated before going into the portal, thought about looking back at him, and he had hated her for almost forgiving him again. He had hated her for so much more than her slender shoulders had ever had to bear, blamed her for so much; he’d even told her in no uncertain terms that she should suffer as Milah had. And still, she was here, looking at him with those eyes that he couldn't escape. 

No no no, you listen to me, only to me. I am your master, you are my hound to beat when it fails to bring me my kills! No, NOW LISTEN, LISTEN. END THIS. 

He couldn't stop thinking of the anger and relief when she spoke his name again upon seeing him before Ursula, the way she had dismissed him instead of making him grovel like she should have, demanding her pound of flesh for what he had put her through. The way she was glancing at him now with apprehension and fear. 

She is a weakling, full of uncontrolled emotions and too much trust that has led to her ruin. Go on, stop stalling! Hurry, hurry now, we can get the shard and - 

And giving her to Nil would end with nothing more than misery for not only her, but anyone who stood in the Goblins’ way - Royals and Fae like Marta, or the numerous scattered Fae that refused a crown once before - 

“Well?” Nil asked, laughing raucously.

Well? Give him the princess, you blithering simpleton - 

Killian cleared his throat, preparing himself. "She's dead."

What!? 

"I must have misheard you, Dark One," Nil chuckled dangerously. "Say again?" 

Yes, say AGAIN? WHAT ARE YOU DOING? END THIS. 

The Darkness tried to force its words onto his tongue, but he would not let her forgiveness by dismissal be in vain. 

ENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHIS END THIS, GIVE HER UP 

"She's dead; she ran from me weeks ago. I found her body in a ravine, the shard dissolved to ash. I will never be freed." He spoke as bitterly as he could, channeling the hatred easily. 

"What?" the Goblin Prince screamed, enraged. "She is strong willed and has a bite to match that delectable bark, so she cannot be dead. She is like my own stolen mother, and destined for her blood to strengthen the throne. No, she cannot be dead."

You won't buy her time with this, you fool! This is inevitable, she is his and will be his like your whore was his father's. You must get the shard - 

"I assure you, she is. Even in death, she made it difficult. The ravine was deep and absolutely bloody terrible to climb into. I can't imagine falling down it was anything even she could have survived."

You will suffer for this. 

"Good," Killian whispered, mostly to himself. Emma looked at him from the remains of the net, where the Selkies were now freed from their confines. She motioned for him to stop, but he shook his head, wet strands of the shaggy mess sticking to his forehead. The Goblin Prince paced, before taking deep breaths and turning again to face Killian. 

"Then why have you come here, slaughtered my fleet, and created chaos? I've heard about your glory under my father. Did you really come here empty handed to tell me you're untethered?" Nil attempted to sound amused, but the desperate edge was heavy in his tone. There was no control there, just an angry brat brashly striking out at everyone. 

Killian put on a pedantic smile, causing Nil to immediately start shifting in his place like a child. "Why wouldn't I? I only create chaos, and with no master that means I can strike against you too. Your damnable father may not be here, but I can still hurt you," he drawled, a bit of The Darkness in his voice for finesse. 

What are you doing, what ARE YOU DOING? 

"Then you're useless to me. It's lucky I don't believe you." Nil smiled with a menacing edge. "We'll just leave you here for safekeeping until I can verify this unfortunate and convenient tragedy. My betrothed is a beautiful specimen and so strong, it's hard to believe she isn't ferreted away somewhere. Her tenacity knows no bounds, yet again like my beloved Mother. I love that fighting spirit, she will make a strong future king, as it is written." Walking to a large flat piece of iron and picking it up from the floor, the sheet rolled like paper in his glowing hands until it crafted into a large curved spike.  

There was a sharp pain in his chest as the U bend of the makeshift iron anchor broke through the skin of his back, cracking ribs. Killian groaned, falling back, but Nil was there, standing on top of the iron contraption and pushing it deeper. Pushing the other side of heavy iron through his ribcage, Killian felt the air escape his lungs in a choking rasp, forcing him to double over, while Nil gave him a hard push into the sea. 

You've killed us both you fool. I hope you're happy. 

"We don't die. I'm content to lie at the bottom of the sea if that means another does not have the same fate as Milah. I meant what I said."

You will know true agony for this. Your insolence has been a problem, but this? This you will suffer for; this you will know true pain for. 

"Aye, I'm sure of it. For now, enjoy the water for the both of us."

The dark pressure seemed endless, and the pain was constant, but it cleared his thoughts. Killian of the Blackwater, left to sit in the blackest depths forevermore. The Darkness writhed and cajoled and raged, but nothing it did could disturb his peace, the idea of penance weighing heavier than the cold, deep nothingness. 

He wondered if this was what Liam felt. The thought didn't hurt him this time. 

The anchor dragged along the sand at the bottom, drawing another sound that escaped in bubbles. More pain burned through him as his lungs filled with water. Stars lit behind his eyes, bright pops of color flashing in time with the stabs of pain. Hours passed like this, his thoughts just as full with briny water as he tried not to think about how long this torture would continue. A firework lit in his mind as the anchor hit a rock, sending reverberating shocks through his body. He wished vainly for the darkness to take him instead of the bursts of brightness. 

But no, the light would not go away. It became a pinpoint, then a glow that was warmer and more comforting than anything he thought he would know, growing to spread through him. He cracked open his eyes to see what he thought was a fierce angel, or quite possibly a nymph or siren, who swam before him encased in bright sunshine shimmers of light with a halo around her head and wearing Emma’s face. 

There was no mockery, for which he thanked the heavens; she simply lifted him, felt the iron, and dropped him suddenly. Tentacles wrapped around the thickest bend of the molded metal, wood crashing around them as the strange suction cup dotted arms yanked. Then, the weight in his chest loosened and he was flying, finally free. It was too much; he flew too high and too fast, falling just as quickly, his eyes shut tightly. 

He fell on something hard, forcing him to cough up water as he raised himself on his side. Soft hands pushed hair out of his face, and something warm crashed into him against where the iron had been. He groaned as whatever it was that had settled against him. A person? When he let out a breath, the person - yes, it was definitely a person - began hitting him.

They stopped suddenly, and after no other smacks came for several moments he opened his eyes to see Emma staring back at him with worry, concern, and anger filling her own gaze. 

"You fucking idiot!" she screamed. "You -" 

"You know that I can't die, right? I'm a survivor.” 

"You still… Even if… If you had been hurt, hurt worse than this I mean, I… Why did you do that? I had a plan, and you - you bought us so much more time, I should have let you - I should have trusted - We couldn't have done this without you, I just…" Emma swiped at her eyes. "Why would you, you absolute…" 

Trying to sit up and practically toppling them both, he groused wryly at her noise of concern. "Maybe I just needed reminding that I could be on the hero's side, or maybe I knew you would never let me get off that easy and without yelling at me, you stubborn - " 

Emma hit him lightly again, her voice laced with strained amusement and lessening terror. "Don't move. Just stop, don't move, you arrogant ass."

"Princess, you deprive me of a dashing rescue, and then add insult to injury - "

"Emma. Please, I…" She straightened her shoulders and began to laugh, his grin at her not helping. Her voice cracked when she tried to start talking, and though she cleared her throat, she could not hide the tremble. "I think, Emma is just fine. Or I quite liked when you called me Swan." 

"Hey, hey now," he soothed, and when he laid a hand on her cheek she turned her face into his palm, holding her own hand against his. Emma couldn't hold back a shaky breath as a few tears escaped, and he pulled her tightly to him. "Hey. Don't cry. I'm the one who was gravely injured. It was about time you saved me from almost drowning, even though I technically cannot. We'll count it as one to three, with me in the lead. You can't steal that too, Swan." 

Her hiccupping laugh and weak wristed smack made him snort. The wound in his back closed, the Darkness ever keeping him alive, even as it still stopped short of his hand. Finally, Killian allowed himself to look around. They were on an old style ship, a light fleet frigate possibly, with no one else in sight. It felt vaguely familiar, but so did simply being at sea. Emma shuddered against him, cold and most likely exhausted as he pressed her for details. 

"What happened to Nil's armada?" 

"Your claim that I was dead caused the Goblin Prince to throw a full-on tantrum, leaving his own ship by portal. The mages he left in charge couldn't control Triton when whittled down in numbers. By the time Nil came back with his father, Triton was free, Ursula was laying waste to anything with Goblins on board, and the Selkies were free and trying to heal their wounded while regrouping. Ursula threw us on this ship after we looked for you, and the two of them destroyed Nil’s entire armada. Nil escaped through a portal at the last second, though. I watched through your telescope." Emma blushed lightly, pulling away from him. "Ursula said this ship will mean something to you, but I don't recognize it other than it being the one we used today. It's sort of a hodge-podge of Mer-craftsmanship; a frigate, speed sloop, galleon, and tall ship all crammed together. The base and bunks seem to be mostly the galleon? It's that ship Eric pulled out of the water before -"

"Liam's ship," he breathed. "My ship."

"I thought yours was The Jewel of the Realm? This one says something about being Jolly." She pointed over the edge, and he joined her to peer over. In sloppy carved graffiti, some sea dwelling mer-miscreant had replaced the clean script of the Fae Navy with 'The Jolly Roger'. 

Killian couldn't find it in himself to be angry, instead laughing as he crossed to the stern, feeling the same breeze that his brother and he had felt, the sea immediately calming him. Emma had only made this all the better, expending any magic she hadn't used drying their supplies and the ship's hold. Once waterlogged books filled with his brother's notes were crisp and clean, and a patina worn sextant looked almost like new on a pristine desk. Opening a trunk, he found naval uniforms pressed for a day's work, closing the lid after running his fingers over the brass buttons and fringed epaulets on the shoulders. 

Then there were the other ships, the pieces of other wrecks merged to what was his, that made up the crooked interior, filled with casks and casks of glorious rum. 

He created a small fire in the tiny galley, heating it with the butter they had left, still in Ingrid's strange plastic pastel container, before joining Emma on the deck with two cups as she arranged blankets. 

"How's your hand?" Emma asked, watching him settle. 

He gave a shrug, trying to mask the fire coursing through his bent fingers. "S'fine." 

He took a heavy swig, the rum doing nothing to help the pain in his hand. Emma rolled her eyes and crawled beside him, taking his cold palm in hers. "Which means 'it hurts' in High Killian. You're truly a terrible liar."

"The Goblin believed me when I told them you were dead." 

"Barely, and I mean, case and point." Emma smirked, her magic glowing softly. 

Killian barked out a laugh, and her magic spread, his hand stopping its searing throbs. He sighed in relief, and picked up a steaming mug. 

"Any idea where we're off to?" he asked. Emma sighed wearily. 

"I haven't had much more that a moment while you looked around yourself, but I believe we’re in this general vicinity." She spread out a large map that he had not noticed, unrolling it and pinning it down with a few stones she must have found in Liam's collection. Amethyst and a chunk of bismuth glittered at each corner. Emma pointed with the ends of a navigational compass to a location in the blue defined area she had made a circle around. "The stars aren't great right now, but I remember them well enough to find the cardinal points. There was a current map where I found this, and based on the stars and our speed, I think this is our trajectory if we're seeking the closest shore to land on." She tapped a small speck on the map with the compass, some unmarked island. 

Killian raised an eyebrow, remarkably impressed. "You know marine navigation?" 

Emma shrugged, with a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Even a proper noblewoman needs hobbies."

"I'm beginning to believe that you aren't the most proper of noblewomen, Swan."

"My reputation is ruined, you'll have to seek out other debutantes to fill your season."

He was caught off guard by her quip, and laughed in surprise, her giggling joining his. He brushed a finger over one of her lines on the map. "This is going to take some time, if you're right. Have you been at sea for any length of time?" 

Emma shook her head, and sighed. "No. The sea wasn't a place for a princess." Her tone was sour, and she looked at him with the glint of irritation he'd begun to notice was present when she spoke about the ridiculous notions of the royals. 

"Well, now it seems it is." He gave her a wink, and her cheeks flushed a deep red, the rum seemingly warming her further. "We'll be in close quarters, especially with what a mess of mismatched parts below deck is. Stay off my toes, and we'll be fine."

Looking at him with a cocked head and an amused expression, she gave a mock salute while imitating his accent. "Aye aye, Captain, sir."

He grimaced, and downed his rum. The Darkness had quieted again, probably due to her close proximity and how her magic seemed to target it lately. 

Emma took another large swig of rum, her skin heating with a visible flush. Killian grinned at her, taking the mug down to pour more for them. When he handed it to her, she took another swig, seeming to savor the burn in her throat and warmth in her belly. Giggling, she let herself fall back onto the blankets they had laid across the deck. 

"The last time I was this drunk was when I kissed you," she laughed, rolling onto her side clumsily to look at him. "After we escaped Pann."

"You were much more drunk then," he laughed back before realization dawned on him. "Wait, you remember that?"

"Yeah, and you lying about it." Her grin was playful, and she laid her head down to hide half her face in the blankets. Killian felt his ears heat, and tried not to choke on anymore of the rum. "Why did you, anyway?"

"I didn't - it was obvious you were out of sorts, just…"

"Knackered? Foxed? Three shades to the wind?" Emma giggled, and when he didn't return the laugh she reached for him. "I didn't mean to upset you, I definitely shouldn't have done that. I mean, I don't regret it, because it was nice and you have nice lips and a nice face, and - " She rambled, and his eyebrow raised. She let out a groan and covered her mouth. 

"A drunken mind speaks a sober - " he chuckled awkwardly, Emma reaching to push him softly before he could finish the proverb. There was a part of him that felt strange, full of pride, while all at once wistful. 

"Shut up," she whined, her blush making her eyes more green. "We will never speak of this again."

"Not a word from my nice lips about it again, I swear it." Miming zipping his lips, Emma groaned once more, falling back into the blankets again while laughing. Her laughter, being out at sea, the rum - it was heady when mixed with the thought of the way she had felt. There was no way he could admit anything more than that to himself, let alone Emma. 

Later he checked her coordinates against the constellations, both of them looking at the stars and looking over the map by candlelight. Emma fell asleep as he began to work in silence and he coaxed her to take a pillow to lay her head on, the quiet snoring lasting for a few hours. 

She tossed and turned under the blanket, briefly scaring him with the suddenness of her flailing. 

"Emma? Are you alright?" 

"Don't touch me, please don't touch - " she startled awake, throwing her body away from his own. With hazy eyes filled with tears, Emma scrunched into her frame just as he saw her do within Ursula's realm, magic leaving her in waves. "Nil, no, please don't - "

The first few bursts of magic caught him off guard, hitting him squarely in the chest. The third he tried to roll away from as it hit his hip, the movement fully pulling her from the night terror. 

Her breathing was rapid and unsteady, as she murmured an apology, fingers twisting her hair. 

She looked exhausted, and Killian wondered again when the last time she had gotten proper rest was. Approaching carefully, he wrapped her in the blanket she had thrown off, helping her to stand. 

"Go sleep in the bunk. It will be more comfortable for you," Killian whispered, and Emma let him tuck a stray piece of her hair behind her ear, his skin meeting the softness of her cheek. He nodded to the hatch, helping her down the ladder until she closed the latch behind her. Sitting down on the deck to look over the maps again, he attempted to rub out the twinge in his chest that had begun to ache from where her magic had dealt its blows. 

  *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

  The dress for the evening of this ball is beautiful, and fits her like a glove as she twirls for her father. He's happier than she has seen him in a long time, eyes crinkled at the corners, watching her like she is the most important thing in the world as she shows him the intricate crystal work that glitters in the light. 

Her mother hugs her from behind, a rare warm gesture rather than the iciness that Emma is used to in their relationship, decorum and etiquette frowning on displays of affection. The green velvet of her mother's gown smells like moss, pine, sweet grass, and fresh snow as her mother rests her head on Emma's shoulder. 

Her father twirled her again, and they're at the ball. As unsure as she is what this party commemorates, the food and drink do not disappoint, nor does the selection of dance partners. A warm set of hands covers her eyes, and she can feel the press of a person against her back but it isn't unwelcome at all. Instead she feels the roughness of his palms, stubble against her neck, warm breath in her ear, and Killian’s voice. 

"I have a surprise for you, darling," he whispers, and Emma feels her stomach flip like it had once with Graham. To her surprise, she feels trust and a sense of peace that he is with her here, and grins at his gift. The music goes silent in the ballroom, along with the guests, as if a great breath has snuffed everything out. "No peeking now…" Killian’s hands fall away and she screws her eyes tightly shut. 

A finger traces her exposed spine, and she giggles, the nail sharp against her skin while feathers soften its trail. Although not completely unpleasant, it feels off the longer and further it goes, and she shivers as she leans away from the touch. The person behind her wraps their arms around her tightly, making it impossible to move while trailing their nails down her exposed skin. Emma struggles, and she feels a sickeningly familiar giggle rumble through the chest against her back. 

This wasn't Killian any longer. She keeps her eyes shut, trying to wish away the sour smelling breath against the junction of her throat. 

"Open your eyes, my beautiful wife, my queen to rival all queens. Open your eyes and behold my gift to you," Nil hisses, dragging his tongue along her shoulder blade. 

Despite trying to clench her eyes shut with everything in her power, they are forced open to the light of the ballroom, twinkling lights that briefly blind then illuminate the bodies on the patterned floor. Crimson puddles lay around the courtiers as they themselves laid too still, livery soaking up the blood. Emma lets out a cry, running and slipping in the pools, her skirts and slippers filling with wet warmth, the taste of copper on her tongue. 

Her parents slumped in their thrones, eyes and mouths open too wide, and Emma hears herself now as she chokes out moans, her voice too small but so loud in the silence that permeates in the absence of life. From behind her father's throne, Killian appears, his hands and face drenched in the same red that blooms from her parents necks while he wipes his sword on his waistcoat. 

His face contorts in a sinister grin that only widens when he catches her horrified gaze, his eyes flickering to the floor. His eyes that are terribly, and awfully sad. 

Emma turns back to Nil, his smile akin to Killian’s own, the dagger in his grip as Killian takes a place slightly behind him like a prostrate lap dog. Emma shakes her head, falling to her knees. 

"Do you not like my gift, my radiant queen? I wanted something that left an impression as your last sight before the Darkness of your new life begins." Nil cocks his head, moving to her to lift her chin. Emma feels tears stream down her cheeks. "You will learn to love the Darkness, just as you will learn to love me, and love what I have done for you. Come, wife. Come."

The ballroom disappears around her as the world goes black, the floor falling away to leave her tumbling into the abyss. She lands on a soft surface, hands scrambling to feel around and escape. Her arms tangle in silken sheets as pillows, down, and bedding seemed to hold her, realizing she's landed in a bed that is not her own. The bedding fabric tightens around her wrists and ankles, forcing her body into a prone position, forcing her into a vulnerable position, even as she struggles in the dark. A rustling catches her attention, her body tense as she tries to place where the noise came from. She could see nothing in the gloom, no matter how much she tried. Nil's voice slithered through the murk. 

"You're home now, my magnificent queen. Home and safely held, to get you acclimated to life here, to the absence of light." The sound of fabric falling to the ground came from her left, followed by dragging footsteps echoing across the space, Emma's breath coming in panicked gasps. 

She feels the creak of the bed near her feet, a knee against her calf as a feathered hand slid up her thigh. Emma pleads for him to stop, desperately trying to get away from his touch. 

Nil's voice is silky against her hip. "You'll get used to this too, not that I mind. Fighting makes a better future king."

Screams ripped from her throat and he pulled away, hissing at the noise. "Dark One! Hold her mouth silent!"

Killian appears through the darkness, leaning over her as she begs and pleads for this to stop. His eyes glow blue, and they are still so sad as his hand covers her mouth, muffling her voice. He looks close to tears, like he's breaking himself, his hand trembling against her lips while he tries to comfort her even as Nil returns to her thigh.

"Emma, I'm so sorry, Emma, shhhhh, please." The room grows brighter, his eyes are brighter and he is clenching his jaw in fury. Emma can feel the light coming back, but Nil's hands press on, too close to where they should never be, and her begging gets louder along with Killian’s voice right above her, "Emma, are you alright?" 

And no, she isn't, but the room is gone and he's saved her, eyes blue in her blurry vision - 

Waking up in terror after the rum had worn off, Emma had hoped for more sleep, but even the alcohol was unable to combat her nightmare on the deck. The dream continued to plague her, pieces of it making her breath catch until it fades. Killian was in her dreams more frequently since his return, both ambivalent and malicious in each turn. Killian had helped her down into those chambers, and although she still was slightly hazy, it was a welcome change. 

It was odd to be in the room of a person that had changed into a stranger inside his own skin, the remaining discarded bits of what was a life scattered in disarray. Lighting a candle, she looked at the open trunk and the uniform placed reverently over a desk chair, letting her fingers run along the buttons and brush the fringe of the epaulets. The books she had pulled earlier were still out, and she opened dog eared pages, surprised by the different sets of handwriting in the margins.

Sturdy, block text that reminded her of laws and bills that her parents had to sign underlined passages, while a flowery script poked fun at those footnotes. The flowery text seemed to enjoy more poetry and philosophy, which the block text had teased heavily. Based on what she knew, Liam and Killian respectively were the authors, Killian’s text much more chaotic and flamboyant. Another hand's script had joined later, letters beautiful and words softly pushed together. It wrote love notes in the corners, or bracketed passages, occasionally a watercolor picture left tucked neatly in the pages where they wrote paragraphs. Milah, Emma assumed. 

Killian had once painted, she discovered after finding a ribbon bound stack of his work. Pictures of Milah were his main focus, then the water, landscapes, and animals. His work was humorous and surreal on occasion too, and Emma wondered what that man had been like, before everything happened. He had been different then, and it made her feel anxious and vulnerable to wonder if that man was still buried somewhere within the tortured soul she now kept company with. 

Stripping to her shift to combat the last of summer's heat, she laid down on the bunk, surprised at the luxurious nature of the bedding. Here in the cabin, she could better hear the water, waves rocking the ship. Later, she heard his footfalls, opening her eyes briefly as he whispered that she was alright, stroking her hair gently. 

Emma could feel the remnants of the dream, the same as before and the same that had haunted her since she had found herself in Ursula's domain. He kept on with his soothing until the tension in her shoulders fell away, the traced patterns against her scalp in sync with the waves. The ghost of the old Killian still remained, she mused smiling sleepily, the one she could trust. She fell immediately back to sleep, resting for the first time in weeks and dreaming of home.