#like i have been fatherless at this point for way longer than i’ve had a father. that’s.. i mean i had to start coming to terms with that

[theartofdreaming1]

Katniss, bravely stepping inbetween Gale and Thread (and his whip) - she’s so courageous and protective, she deserves the world 😭

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and (many) random thoughts on chapters 7-9 are below the cut. (Is it just me, or are my notes getting longer and longer with each and every post? I swear, this book is so meaty, we’ll soon reach the point where I have to type out the entire chapter, with my thoughts in the margins)

heart

“Gale is mine. I am his. Anything else in unthinkable.” 

I think these words are a result of Katniss being so afraid of losing Gale that she’s kinda overcompensating; their relationship has been strained these past few months and they’d just had a row, separating from each other on bad terms - and the next time she sees him, he’s been whipped so bad that he’s lost consciousness and could be potentially dying from his wounds. Of course she’s so terrified of losing him, that she’s holding on as tightly as she can to him. It’s important to keep in mind how important their relationship is to her and we see that in her preceding thoughts: What a pair we were - fatherless, frightened, but fiercely commited, too, to keeping our families alive. Desperate, yet no longer alone after that day, because we’d found each other. I think of a hundred moments in the woods, lazy afternoons fishing, the day I taught him to swim, that time I twisted my knee and he carried me home. Mutually counting each other, watching each other’s backs, forcing each other to be brave. - Gale was the first person who was her equal, a kindred spirit, her partner. After Katniss had lost both of her parents when her father died and her mother succumbed to her depression - the people who were supposed to care for her and guide her through growing up - she was stuck with the role of sole provider and protector of her family at age eleven. She must have been so lonely all this time until she met this boy who understood what she was going through and they learned from each other and shouldered their burdens together, to take off some of the overwhelming pressure. Of course that relationship, of course Gale is important to her. But also now their relationship has become more fragile, after the Games they are in danger of growing apart - it’s got to be so terrifying to feel like the one proper, mutual relationship you’ve had seems to be slipping through your fingers. With everything that’s going on, her entire life as it is teetering on the razor’s edge (heck, the president himself has been threatening her and her family!), it’s no wonder that Katniss is craving that familiarity and safety that her relationship with Gale used to provide her with. And seeing Gale in this state just has her holding on to him more tightly than ever.

mind

Hmm, no big moment is coming to my mind right now; I think I’m always most impressed by the tiny moments that show how tenacious, resilient and fiercely kind humans can be - like Darius stepping forward to stop Gale’s cruel punishment, Leevy volunteering to tell Hazelle about Gale and promising to stay with the Hawthorne children, Madge bringing the morphling, Katniss pressing Darius’s hand in the Training Center, Twill taking Bonnie with her to flee to D13 and so on.

soul

I believe that Katniss was honestly surprised to learn that Gale had feelings for her; she had categorically shut down the idea of entering a romantic relationship for herself, so I don’t think she’d seriously consider anyone being romantically interested in her in return (that’s not how that works, of course, but I think that’s how she perceived the whole shtick). Their kiss threw her completely for a loop and if anything, she mostly saw it as something that contributed to the deterioration of their previous, easy and comfortable relationship.

Chapter 7

A mockingjay is a creature the Capitol never intended to exist. [...] They hadn’t anticipated its will to live. - In a way, the Capitol continues to make this mistake with the people living in the districts, too - underestimating their will to live (opposed to just surviving)

I look in his [Gale’s] eyes. His temper can’t quite mask the hurt, the sense of betrayal he feels at my engagement to Peeta. This will be my last chance, this meeting today, to not lose Gale forever. - Okay, we don’t know how much Katniss might be (incorrectly) presuming here, but the idea that Gale might feel betrayal because his best friend is being forced into an engagement pisses me off. It’s fine if he’s feeling jealous because she’s being paired off with Peeta when he wishes he could have a shot with her, but how in the world does this even rate as a betrayal?! A) It’s done against her will and B) Just because they’re friends doesn’t mean Katniss owes him anything when we’re talking about romantic feelings... Ugh 😒 Also, it’s quite noteworthy how insecure Katniss feels about their relationship - she’s constantly worried Gale will drop her and their friendship (waiting for Gale after the camera teams left after winning the Games: I’d begun to think that he’d given up on me in the weeks that had passed.- Ch. 2) and it doesn’t help that she’s been through that extreme, traumatic experience without him and they haven’t had much opportunity to spend a lot of time with each other (with the Victory Tour and Gale having to work so much) and when they do hang out, they don’t seem to really talk much, which doesn’t exactly help...

He [Gale] tosses the gloves on my lap. “Here. I don’t want your fiancé’s old gloves.” “He’s not my fiancé. That’s just part of the act. And these aren’t his gloves. They were Cinna’s,” I say. “Give them back, then, he says. - Gale can be so petty sometimes 🙄

While I talk, [...] [Gale] occupies himself with turning the food in the leather bag into a meal for us. Toasting bread and cheese, coring apples, placing chestnuts in the fire to roast. I watch his hands, his beautiful, capable fingers. Scarred, as mine were before the Captiol erased all marks from my skin, but strong and deft. [...] Hands I trust. - Oh boy, this moment really shows how these two are at cross purposes right now - Gale’s prepping the food as you would for a toasting (romantic connotation), while Katniss is oberserving his hands, thinking how their hands used to match (not anymore!) and basically wishing herself back into the time before the Games, when things were ‘simpler’/more clearly defined (and also platonic!); there is nothing romantic from her P.O.V. - it’s all about the friendship and trust

[Gale] steps in and I feel myself lifted off the ground. The room spins, and I have to lock my arms around Gale’s neck to brace myself. He’s laughing, happy. “Hey!” I protest, but I’m laughing, too. Gale sets me down but doesn’t release his hold on me. “Okay, let’s run away.” [...] “You’re sure?” I say. [...] “I’m sure. I’m completely, entirely, one hundred percent sure.” - Yeah, and I’m sure you’re not going to change your opinion in the next five minutes, Gale... In his defense, Gale didn’t know all the details, so in that regard it’s totally valid that he might decide to change his mind after having more input... It’s just that Katniss specifically asks him whether he’s sure and his reply is so full of conviction (100% sure!), only for him to do a complete 180 just a couple of minutes later; Gale’s very hot and cold, which makes for such a harsh contrast when compared to Peeta’s more measured reaction later in the chapter

He tilts his forehead down to rest against mine and pulls me closer. [...] I don’t try to move away. Why should I, anyway? His voice drops to a whisper. “I love you.” That’s why. - Oh man, Katniss just can’t catch a break 😞 Really not wise of Gale to drop the L-bomb here (after, what? a kiss they never talked about and little else... their communication is truly abysmal and it’s really damaging to their relationship, hurting the both of them)

“Gale, I can’t think about anyone that way now. All I can think about, every day, is how afraid I am. And there doesn’t seem to be room for anything else. If we could get somewhere safe, maybe I could be different. I don’t know.” I can see him swallowing his disappointment. “So, we’ll go. We’ll find out.” - I mean, honestly, I totally understand where Katniss is coming from - she doesn’t need a romantic interest, she needs a partner, which is why she’s been so eager to talk to her hunting partner, someone she’s used to rely on for survival and now he’s also confounding their relationship by introducing that romance-angle (as if it wasn’t bad enough that her relationship with Peeta got kind of messed up when that same angle was forced upon them prematurely)... Also, telling how Katniss thinks she’d have to be different to maybe even consider a romantic relationship with Gale - Katniss as she is right now just can’t see herself wanting to be with Gale romantically; it would require a change... I’ve got to give Gale credit for still going along with it, and trying to push past his disappointment, though

“My [Gale’s] mother is going to take some convincing.” [...] “Mine, too. I’ll just have to make her see reason. Take her for a long walk. Make sure she understands we won’t survive the alternative.” “She’ll understand. I watched a lot of the Games with her and Prim. She won’t say no to you,” says Gale. - That’s interesting, I wonder what exactly Gale means by that? That Mrs. Everdeen won’t say no to Katniss because she feels guilty that Katniss had to go through the Games or because watching her daughter compete in the Games really made her realize how messed up Panem is? Or that she’s more inclined to trust Katniss’s judgement after everything that has happened?

“Haymitch will be the real challenge.” “Haymitch?” Gale abandons the chestnuts. “You’re asking him to come with us?” “I have to, Gale. I can’t leave him and Peeta because they’d-” His scowl cuts me off. “What?” “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how large our party was,” he snaps at me. - Gale doesn’t seem to have realized how close and important Peeta and Haymitch have become to Katniss... maybe because they never properly talked about this aspect of Katniss’s life (I swear, their shoddy communication must account for at least half of the damage their relationship has taken in these past few months alone)

“What if he [Peeta] decides to stay?” he [Gale] asks. I try to sound indifferent, but my voice cracks. “Then he stays.” “You’d leave him behind?” Gale asks. “To save Prim and my mother, yes,” I answer. “I mean, no! I’ll get him to come.” “And me, would you leave me?” Gale’s expression is rock hard now. - Boy, oh boy! I think Gale knows (like Peeta) that Katniss could never leave behind the people she cares about; then, he’s kind of gauging whether Peeta has already received the Katniss Everdeen Stamp of ‘Caring’ - and, as it turns out, he has! And then Gale ends up making it into a bit of  competition by asking her whether she would leave him behind (or, alternately, her turning him down has him confused about the depth of their relationship, I dunno); not fun

“There’s an uprising in Eight?” he [Gale] says in a hushed voice. I try to backpedal. To defuse him, as I tried to defuse the districts. - Katniss is going to be about as successful as she’d been at defusing the districts, too - But here we have another example of Katniss trying to rein in Gale’s temper because she’s afraid he’s going to get himself in trouble (like when she decided not to tell him about Snow’s visit to her house because she was worried what he’d do with that information)... It’s really not great that she feels the need to censor herself so he won’t do something dangerous... Katniss knows first-hand how badly impulsive actions and decisions can be received in the Capitol - and she never even meant for a rebellion to happen!

“And it’s my fault, Gale. Because of what I did in the arena. If I had just killed myself with those berries, none of this would’ve happened. Peeta could have come home and lived, and everyone else would have been safe. too.” “Safe to do what?” he says in a gentler tone. “Starve? Work like slaves? Send their kids to the reaping? You haven’t hurt people - you’ve given them an opportunity. They just have to be brave enough to take it. - Katniss is taking all the responsibility upon herself again... Gale is right to point out that she was merely a catalyst, not the cause for the rebellion - the cause are the awful living conditions of the people in the districts

“Stop it! You don’t know what you’re saying. The Peacekeepers outside of Twelve, they’re not like Darius, or even Cray! The lives of district people - they mean less than nothing to them!” I say. “That’s why we have to join the fight!” he answers harshly. “No! we have to leave here before they kill us and a lot of other people, too!” [...] “You leave, then, I’d never go in a million years.” [...] “What about your family?” “What about the other families, Katniss? The ones who can’t run away?” - This discourse is so painful because they are both right - Katniss has seen more of the districts and how things are handled beyond the (relatively tame) confines of D12 and it’s fair that she wants to know that the people she cares about are safe from harm; Gale, of course, has a point commenting that not everyone has that opportunity and the only way to have a long-lasting, wide-spread improvement of their conditions is through rebelling against their oppressor - but that will inevitably come along with sacrifices and collateral damage and it’s easy to say that it will be worth it in the long run, but when those who are hurt/dead could end up being your loved ones, it’s definitely easier said than done

He throws Cinna’s gloves at my feet. “I changed my mind. I don’t want anything they made in the Capitol.” And he’s gone. I look down at the gloves. Anything they made in the Capitol? Was that directed at me? Does he think I am now just another product of the Capitol and therefore something untouchable? The unfairness of it all fills me with rage. But it’s mixed up with fear over what kind of crazy thing he might do next. - Gale getting rid of Cinna’s gloves just because they are from the Capitol is a prime example of this “us vs. them” mindset that he will be (worringly) fast to adopt - of course, perceiving the opposite side as “other” will make it easier to fight against them; however, it’s all too easy to lose sight of your opponent’s humanity when you think like that (think of how Gale has a hard time understanding Katniss’s distress upon seeing her prep team being treated so terribly/inhumanely in D13); Katniss feeling upset that Gale might perceive her as a product of the Capitol instead of its victim is understandable (and isn’t that exactly what the inhabitants of D13 are going to think of Peeta in MJ?) - and yet, she is still worried Gale could get himself into trouble with his impulsivity; she’s a good bean

”Going to town?” I ask. “Yes. I’m supposed to eat dinner with my family,” he [Peeta] says. - I’m tripping over the word ‘supposed’ here - it doesn’t sound like Peeta’s looking forward to hanging out with his fam, although it can’t be that often, since they’ve been away on Victory Tour and he is living alone (maybe the end of the chapter will give us another hint why that is 😒😒)... I can’t help but wonder whether these family dinners are mainly for public perception (in that case... it really is no wonder Peeta is so good at playing the cameras - poor guy had to fool the outside world his entire life) or because they are the only chance for Peeta to hang out with any of the members of his family he might actually want to spend some time with

“Peeta, if I asked you to run away from the district with me, would you?” Peeta takes my arm, bringing me to a stop. He doesn’t need to check my face to see if I’m serious. “Depends on why you’re asking.” President Snow wasn’t convinced by me. There’s an uprising in District Eight. We have to get out,” I say. “By ‘we’ do you mean just you and me? No. Who else would be going?” he asks. - Peeta doesn’t just blindly agree to Katniss’s proposal; he needs to know what’s going on first (he has been burnt before - no more secrets!) - and it’s a testament to how well he knows her that as soon as he’s asking whether she meant just the two of them, he corrects himself because knows that Katniss would never leave the ones she cares about behind

“What about Gale?” he says. “I don’t know. He might have other plans,” I say. Peeta shakes his head and gives me rueful smile. “I bet he does. Sure, Katniss, I’ll go.” I feel a slight twinge of hope. “You will?” “Yeah. But I don’t think for a minute you will,” he says. [...] “Then you don’t know me. Be ready. It could be any time.” - Telling how Peeta immediately agrees to the plan once he gathers that Gale won’t come - he knows that Katniss cares about Gale and could never leave him behind, ergo she’d never actually leave under these circumstances - he knows her so well. Also, Katniss’s reaction is like that of a petulant child, it’s kind of funny 😄

“Katniss, hold up.” [...] “I really will go, if you want me to. I just think we better talk it through with Haymitch. Make sure we won’t be making things worse for everyone.” - Ultimately, Peeta would follow Katniss to the ends of the earth - doesn’t mean that he can’t throw in a sensible suggestion in there as well 😉 (Also, in the next chapter we will see how Katniss, Gale, and Peeta might be a little too inexperienced/naive to be able to form accurate expectations of what is to come - Haymitch and his generation have a little more experience in that regard)

He raises his head. “What’s that?” [...] I haven’t noticed the strange noise coming from the square. A whistling, the sound of an impact, the intake of breath from a crowd. “Come on,” Peeta says, his face suddenly hard. I don’t know why. I can’t place the sound, even guess at the situation. But it means something bad to him. - Why does my sweet boy know what a whipping sounds like, Suzanne, huh?! Care to explain that? 😭

Peeta steps up on a crate against the wall of the sweetshop and offers me a hand while he scans the square. I’m halfway up when he suddenly blocks my way. “Get down. Get out of here!” He’s whispering, but his voice is harsh with insistence. - Peeta was offering his hand to help Katniss up the crate because they are a team (and he’s a gentleman)! It’s only when he recognizes who is receiving those lashes and realizes that Katniss will lose her shit once she knows, which could make the current situation even worse, that he urges her to leave, and he is not the only one to think that: - Voices hiss. “Get out of here, girl.” “Only make it worse.” What do you want to do? Get him killed?”

Chapter 8

It’s too late to stop the arm from descending, and I instinctively know I won’t have the power to block it. Instead I throw myself directly between the whip and Gale. I’ve flung out my arms to protext as much of his broken body as possible, so there’s nothing to deflect the lash. I take the full force of it across the left side of my face. - Katniss is so selfless; she knows that it’s either Gale getting hit again or a lash to her own face and she chooses the latter

“Hold it!” a voice barks. Haymitch appears and trips over a Peacekeeper lying on the ground. It’s Darius. [...] He’s knocked out but still breathing. What happened? Did he try to come to Gale’s aid before I got here? - Haymitch sure appeared quickly - I can easily imagine Peeta taking off immediately to get him (or send someone to bring him to the square) once he knew Katniss couldn’t be stopped; but if Haymitch had been at his house in Victor’s Village, there is no way he’d have made that quickly to the square... maybe he was already at the Hob and had gotten wind of the whole situation? Also, poor Darius! Wearing a uniform/being in some sort of position of power is no guarantee you won’t get punished as soon as you show the tiniest glimpse of compassion - in a place like Panem, nobody is safe from the caprice of the people in charge

I see a flicker of recognition in the eyes of the man with the whip. [...] it wouldn’t be easy to identify me as the victor of the last Hunger Games. Especially with half my face swelling up. But Haymitch has been showing up on television for years, and he’d be difficult to forget. - Getting Haymitch truly was the smartest move to make (which is why I’m pretty sure it was a move on Peeta’s part - he’d know how to use reminders of ‘appearances’ to ensure a punishment wouldn’t go ‘too far’, y’know 😢). But also - Thread must have lived under a flipping rock, to not being able to recognizes Katniss (her face must have been plastered all over the place during the Victory Tour, which just had concluded recently) - or he was just too in the heat of the moment, with someone opposing him, bleugh 😒

“He [Gale] was poaching. What business is it of hers, anyway?” says the man. “He’s her cousin.” Peeta’s got my other arm now, but gently. “And she’s my fiancée. So if you want to get to him, expect to go through both of us.” - I love how Peeta’s just laying it down as it is; his phrasing just sounds so factual, rather than provocative (although it is, of course); he really has a way with words - Maybe we’re it. The only three people in the district who could make a stand like this. Although it’s sure to be temporary. There will be repercussions. - Haymitch, Peeta, and Katniss working together as a team again! Also, a good example of the effect people with public influence can have 

One [Peacekeeper], a woman named Purnia who eats regularly at Greasy Sae’s, steps forward stiffly. “I believe, for a first offense, the required number of lashes has been dispensed, sir. Unless your sentence is death, which we would carry out by firing squad.” “Is that the standard protocol here?” asks the Head Peacekeeper. “Yes, sir,” Purnia says, and several others nod in agreement. I’m sure none of them actually know because, in the Hob, the standard protocol for someone showing up with a wild turkey is for everybody to bid on the drumsticks. - It’s kinda nice to see the local Peacekeepers supporting Purnia’s claim to get this display to stop - this is the only way out of this situation where Thread’s authority is not openly challenged (and we know Thread doesn’t take well to having his authority challenged - see Darius)

There’s no stretcher, but the old woman at the clothing stall sells us the board that serves as her countertop. “Just don’t tell where you got it,” she says, packing up the rest of her goods quickly. Most of the square has emptied, fear getting the better of compassion. But after what happened, I can’t blame anyone. - It’s sad how that air of intimidation makes people want to mask their acts of compassion (and also says a lot about the precariousness of the existing living situations if that old lady is still selling that board - I’d never even consider exchanging money for that, but that’s probably my privileged situation showing here; Katniss brings up the theme of fear vs compassion - very fitting, since it seems to be her driving force (although, generally, her compassion wins out over her fear) and despite her assertion that fear appears to be getting the better of compassion we see a good amount of people reaching out to help, such as the following example:

Leevy, a girl who lives a few houses down from mine in the Seam, takes my arm. My mother kept her little brother alive last year when he caught the measles. “Need help getting back?” Her gray eyes are scared but determined. - The subtle suggestion here that Leevy might be further motivated to help out because Katniss’s mom helped her little brother is also an excellent example of how kindness breeds kindness

“Get some snow on that,” Haymitch orders over his shoulder. I scoop up a handful of snow and press it against my cheek, numbing a bit of the pain. - This moment reminded me of Peeta immediately reaching for some ice from that fruit tureen after Haymitch hit him on their way to the Games in THG (Ch. 4) - their different immediate reactions to getting hit in the face could simply be due to the fact that Katniss is a little too preoccupied worrying about Gale to think about her injury, of course, but I feel like you could also interpret them as examples for how much experience Katniss and Peeta have with being hit in the face, respectively...

Gale must have gone to Cray’s house, as he’s done a hundred times, knowing Cray pays well for a wild turkey. Instead he found the new Head Peacekeeper, a man they heard someone call Romulus Thread. No one knows what happened to Cray. He was buying white liquor in the Hob just this morning [...] but now he’s nowhere to be found. - As I’ve already mentioned regarding Darius, inhabiting some position of power does not guarantee you any safety in Panem (there is always someone more powerful who will treat their inferiors like garbage, if they feel like it)

By the time I showed up, he [Gale]’d been lashed at least forty times. He passed out around thirty. - Jesus 😨 poor Gale!

“What about Darius?” Peeta asks.“ After about twenty lashes, he stepped in, saying that was enough. Only he didn’t do it smart and official, like Purnia did. He grabbed Thread’s arm and Thread hit him in the head with the butt of the whip. Nothing good waiting for him,” says Bristel. - It’s so messed up how it is not enough to have someone who’d stand up and do something about a horrible situation - they have to do it the right way, or else they’re toast; there really shouldn’t have to be a smart way of doing the right thing

Snow begins, thick and wet, making visibility even more difficult. - (President) Snow is coming down hard on them, making it hard to see what’s up ahead

Ever so gently, she [Mrs. Everdeen] begins to clean the mutilated flesh on Gale’s back. I feel sick to the stomach, useless, the remaining snow dripping from my glove into a puddle on the floor. Peeta puts me in a chair and holds a cloth filled with fresh snow to my cheek. - Although she’s quite squeamish, Katniss stays as Gale gets treated (the force that holds the loved ones of the hurt/dying, just like when Peeta was being treated after their Games); meanwhile, Peeta is taking care of Katniss - there is so much care + love to be found in this moment

My mother has to save the strongest [painkillers] for the worst pain, but what is the worst pain? To me, it’s always the pain that is present. If I were in charge, those painkillers would be gone in a day because I have so little ability to watch suffering. - Honestly, same; I can’t stomach seeing other people suffer without feeling overwhelmed and feeling like crying... I don’t know how professionals do it

“Just give him the medicine!” I scream at her. [...] “Take her out,” says my mother. Haymitch and Peeta literally carry me from the room while I shout obscenities at her. They pin me down on a bed in one of the extra bedrooms until I stop fighting. - Oof. Poor Katniss! But yeah, it was the best call to remove her from the situation, Mrs. E. had to focus on what she was doing... Also, Haymitch and Peeta are the ones to get Katniss out of there and stay with her - these three take care of each other!

After a while, my mother comes in and treats my face. Then she holds my hand, stroking my arm, while Haymitch fills her in on what happened with Gale. “So it’s starting again?” she says. “Like before?” - Katniss’s mom has become a much more active and soothing presence in this book, I like it... Also, what does “again” mean? Does this imply there has been an attempted uprising in D12 that needed to be squashed before?

Cray would have been disliked, anyway, because of the uniform he wore, but it was his habit of luring starving young women into his bed for money that made him an object of loathing in the district. In really bad times, the hungriest would gather at his door at nightfall, vying for the chance to earn a few coins to feed their families by selling their bodies. Had I been older when my father died, I might have been among them. - Horrifying and absolutely disgusting 🤢 Those poor women! How desperate they must have been! 

... when the doorbell rings, I shoot straight out of bed. [...] “They [the peacekeepers] can’t have him,” I say. “Might be you they’re after,” Haymitch reminds me. “Or you,” I say. “Not my house,” Haymitch points out. “But I’ll get the door.” “No, I’ll get it,” says my mother quietly. - Again, Mrs. Everdeen is taking the initiative! She was so watered down in the movies

[Madge] holds out a small, damp cardboard box to me. “Use these for your friend,” she says. I take off the lid of the box, revealing half a dozen vials of clear liquid. [...] “What is that stuff?” asks Peeta. “It’s from the Capitol. It’s called morphling,” my mother answers. “I didn’t even know Madge knew Gale,” says Peeta. “We used to sell her strawberries,” I say almost angrily. What am I angry about, though? Not that she has brought the medicine, surely. “She must have quite a taste for them,” says Haymitch. That’s what nettles me. It’s the implication that there’s something going on between Gale and Madge. And I don’t like it. “She’s my friend” is all I say. - I mean, Katniss could be mad because A) Gale had literally just told her he loved her a few hours ago and if there was something (reciprocated) going on between Gale and Madge, that would have been pretty shitty for both girls involved and also B) she is friends with both of them and it would be hurtful to learn that two of your closest friends had been seeing each other without telling you anything about it... also, she’s super upset over Gale getting so seriously hurt just after they’d had an argument, her feelings are all over the place

... I’m selfish. I’m a coward. I’m the kind of girl, who, when she might actually be of use, would run to stay alive and leave those who couldn’t follow to suffer and die. This is the girl Gale met in the woods today. No wonder I won the Games. No decent person ever does. You saved Peeta, I think weakly. But now I question even that. I knew good and well that my life back in District 12 would be unlivable if I let that boy die. - Yes, Katniss, you knew that your life back in D12 would have been unlivable if he died - but not because you feared that people would shun you; it was because you “couldn’t lose the boy with the bread” and because “if he dies, I’ll never go home, not really”... This is an excellent example of how distorted your memories can get when you are in a bad headspace at present

The berries. I realize the answer to who I am lies in that handful poisonous fruit. If I held them out to save Peeta because I knew I would be shunned if I came back without him, then I am despicable. If I held them out because I loved him, I am still self-centered, although forgivable. But if I held them out to defy the Capitol, I am someone of worth. - Katniss, you don’t have to be planning to overthrow a corrupt and cruel government to be someone of worth! You’re someone of worth just by being yourself! - The trouble is, I don’t know exactly what was going on inside me at that moment. - Frankly, very rarely are our motivations clearly defined by a single factor - or my professor would not have been able to teach an entire semester-long course on motivation psychology😉)

Chapter 9

Gale’s dead to the world, but his fingers are locked around mine. I smell fresh bread and turn my stiff neck to find Peeta looking down at me with such a sad expression. I get the sense that he’s been watching us awhile. “Go on up to bed, Katniss. I’ll look after him now,” he says. - Peeta! Must have been hard for him to see Katniss like this (and the underlying strength of Katniss and Gale’s relationship, when his relationship with Katniss is still not all that solidified), and yet he’s being such a good bean about it 😭

I give a strangled cry and wake with a start, sweating and shivering at once. Cradling my damaged cheek in my hand, I remind myself that it was not Clove but Thread who gave me this wound. I wish that Peeta were here to hold me, until I remember I’m not supposed to wish that anymore. I have chosen Gale and the rebellion, and a future with Peeta is the Capitol’s design, not mine. - Katniss, gurl... Maybe your instinctive desire to receive comfort from Peeta is trying to tell you something??!? Also, Katniss is forcing this strange dichotomous association of Gale = rebellion and Peeta = Capitol, when in just a bit, she’s clearly connecting Peeta to the rebellion as well (aside from the fact that Peeta was basically the first person to suggest to her that maybe a rebellion was necessary... just saying)

Fighting the Capitol assures their swift retaliation. I must accept that at any moment I can be arrested. [...] There might be torture. Mutliation. A bullet through the skull in the town square [...] I imagine these things and I’m terrified, but let’s face it: They’ve been lurking in the back of my brain, anyway. [...] I’m already a target. - Oh geez! Despite admitting that she’s terrified of what the Capitol is capable fo doing to her, Katniss is still pretty composed naming the possible horrors in store for her, which is just a heartbreaking reminder of how many terrible things she has already had to endure.🙁

Now comes the harder part. I have to face the fact that my family and friends might share this fate. Prim. I need only to think of Prim and all my resolve disintegrates. It’s my job to protect her. [...] I can’t let the Capitol hurt Prim. - 😭😭😭 Katniss has reached a point where she can put her own need for survival/physical intactness aside, but the thought of something awful happening to Prim stops her short (it’s so strange to think that, in a twisted way, it wasn’t the Capitol who’d ended up inflicting the final harm upon Prim...)

And then it hit’s me. They already have. They have killed her father in those wretched mines. They have sat by as she almost starved to death. [...] She has been hurt far worse than I had at the age of twelve. And even that pales in comparison with Rue’s life. [...] Prim... Rue... aren’t they the very reason I have to try to fight? Because what has been done to them is so wrong, so beyond justification, so evil that there is no choice? Because no one has the right to treat them as they have been treated? Yes. This is the thing to remember when fear threatens to swallow me up. What I am about to do, whatever any of us are forced to endure, it is for them. - All these things are very true and it’s also very fitting that the main motivation for Katniss would be to ensure a better future for the children of Panem (and to avenge the evils done to the people close to her heart... while Katniss of course can see the abstract bigger picture/reason for the rebellion, she always operates best when it comes to specific people/circumstances she has a deep, personal connection with)... But also: all these things apply to you, too, Katniss! Despite your tendency to feel responsible for everything and everyone, you’re still a child that had to grow up way too fast and had to endure way too much!

We need someone to direct us and reassure us this is possible. And I don’t think I’m that person. I may have been a catalyst for rebellion, but a leader should be someone with conviction, and I’m barely a convert myself. Someone with unflinching courage, and I’m still working hard at finding mine. Someone with clear and persuasive words, and I’m so easily tongue-tied. Words. I think of words and I think of Peeta. - Katniss’s idea of a great leader for the rebellion is Peeta - interesting, isn’t it (she could have considered Gale, but no)? She makes a good point, though: it helps when a leader has plenty of charisma, and our boy has that in spades; he’s got a good set of morals, is not above joining in on the action/risking his own neck when the need arises and is very genuine and purposeful with his words and actions, which is inspiring... I think Katniss is severely underselling how courageous she is, though

He could move a crowd to action, I bet, if he chose to. Would find the things to say. But I’m sure the idea has never crossed his mind. - Why would you assume that, Katniss? Peeta’s literally the one to suggest to you that trying to placate the district might not be the right thing to do... Peeta’s not someone who’d stir up trouble just for the sake of stirring up trouble, sure; he’s much more deliberate about doing things the ‘right’ way, but he’s not generally opposed to challenging authorities (he’s literally the one to openly gift some of your winnings to another district!)

She knows what she’s doing, my mother. I feel a pang of remorse about yesterday, the awful things I yelled at her as Peeta and Haymitch dragged me from the kitchen. “I’m sorry. About screaming at you yesterday.” - It’s so sweet how Katniss feels sorry for yelling at her mom and apologizes to her; their relationship really has improved so much in this book - “I’ve heard worse,” she says. “You’ve seen how people are, when someone they love is in pain.” Someone they love. [...] Of course, I love Gale. But what kind of love does she mean? What do I mean when I say I love Gale? I don’t know. I did kiss him last night, in a moment when my emotions were running so high. But i’m sure he doesn’t remember it. Does he? I hope not. - Katniss is struggling to figure out in what way she loves Gale... She definitely doesn’t want him to remember their kiss because she knows it wouldn’t be fair to give him the hope that she might be able to return his romantic feelings when she is still in the dark about her own

... and I can’t really think about kissing when I’ve got a rebellion to incite. I give my head a little shake to clear it. “Where’s Peeta?” I say. - Lol, goes on to immediately mention the guy she’s been kissing these past few weeks (see, with Peeta you could actually have both: kissing and rebellion, Katniss - he’s the perfect man, isn’t he? 😉😋)

“He went home when he heard you stirring. Didn’t want to leave his house unattended during the storm,” says my mother. - Yeah, I don’t think Peeta left because of his house; I’m pretty sure he needed some time to himself after seeing Katniss and Gale this morning - he is the type of person who needs to be alone to work through his feelings when he’s feeling upset - “Did he get back all right?” [...] “Why don’t you give him a call and check?” she says. I go into the study, a room I’ve pretty much avoided since my meeting with President Snow, and dial Peeta’s number. After a few rings he answers. “Hey. I just wanted to make sure you got home,” I say. “Katniss. I live three houses away from you,” he says. “I know, but with the weather and all,” I say. “Well, I’m fine. Thank you for checking.” There’s a long pause. “How’s Gale?” - Aww, Katniss is worried about Peeta and gives him a call, although she hates being in the study 😊 Also, her calling him must have been at least of some reassurance to Peeta that she genuinely cares about him, in some way (though, he’s still clearly busy processing her relationship with Gale, since he’s asking about him as if he hadn’t seen that dude just a couple of minutes prior)

“Have you seen Haymitch today?” “I checked in on him. Dead drunk. But I built up his fire and left him some bread,” he says. “I wanted to talk to - to both of you.” I don’t dare add more, here on my phone, which is surely tapped. -  Despite everything, Peeta still made sure to look after Haymitch! And I know, there is also the issue of their houses themselves potentially being bugged, but I couldn’t help imagining how they could easily avoid the whole phone-tapping thing simply by using a tin can telephone (they do live pretty close to each other, after all) 😂

“You don’t even have a phone,” I say. “Effie had that fixed,” he [Haymitch] says. “Do you know she asked me if I’d like to give you away? I told her the sooner the better.” “Haymitch.” I can hear the pleading creeping into my voice. “Katniss.” He mimics my tone. “It won’t work.” - Okay, but Haymitch mimicking Katniss’s tone reminds me so much of when Peeta mimicked her tone towards the end of their Games, when she was trying to persuade him to climb into a tree as a lookout while he was insistent she’d show him some plants to gather; these three, I swear! 😂 On a sad note, Haymitch is talking from experience here when he’s advising Katniss not to challenge the Capitol 🥺😢

Some streets away from the square, I see a blaze flare up. None of us has to say it. That can only be the Hob going up in smoke. I think of Greasy Sae, Ripper, all my friends who make their livings there. - Katniss considers the people from the Hob her friends - honestly, even if the Hawthornes, Everdeens, Peeta and Haymitch all had agreed to leave D12, I don’t think Katniss would have been able to go through with it - she cares too much about the people in D12 to have been able to leave them to their fate

“Well, I better go see how much rubbing alcohol the apothecary can spare.” He [Haymitch] trudges off across the square and I look at Peeta. “What’s he want that for?” Then I realize the answer. “We can’t let him drink it. He’ll kill himself, or at the very least go blind. I’ve got some white liquor put away at home.” “Me, too. Maybe that will hold him until Ripper finds a way to be back in business,” says Peeta. - Another instance of Katniss and Peeta being on the same wavelength, having taken precautions to help out Haymitch so he doesn’t have to go cold turkey again

We find Hazelle in her house, nursing a very sick Posy. I recognize the measles spots. “I couldn’t leave her,” she says. “I knew Gale’d be in the best possible hands.” - The second mention of someone having contracted the measles in D12 - Why the heck does the Capitol withhold measles vaccination from the people in the districts?! They’re inflicting unnecessary damage onto the very people they want to exploit... But I guess cruelty isn’t always about playing it smart and logical...

When we’re outside, I turn to Peeta. “You go on back. I want to walk by the Hob.” “I’ll go with you,” he says. “No. I’ve dragged you into enough trouble,” I tell him. “And avoiding a stroll by the Hob... that’s going to fix things for me?” He smiles and takes my hand. - They are a team, they stick together (and they are constantly holding hands, always physically linked to each other)😩💕 Also, Peeta pointing out the irrationality of Katniss’s train of thought to calm her down and stay with her reminds me of how he’s going to use logical reasoning to calm her down after the jabberjays in the Quarter Quell arena

We go back to the square. I buy some cakes from Peeta’s father while they exchange small talk about the weather. No one mentions the ugly tools of torture just yards from the front door. The last thing I notice as we leave the square is that I do not recognize even one of the Peacekeepers’ faces. - How weird is it that Peeta and his dad just talk about the weather?! Is this supposed to illustrate how in the Mellark family they just ignored the ugliness going on in their lives *cough cough* the abuse *cough cough* and just pretended that everything was fine, on a very superficial level? Also, it makes perfect sense that the Peacekeepers have been exchanged; the more time we spend with people, the more likely we are to like them - that won’t do if you want to have a ruthless authoritarian police force in the districts

As the days pass, things go from bad to worse. The mines stay shut for two weeks, and by that time half of District 12 is starving. The number of kids signing up for tesserae soars, but they often don’t receive their grain. Food shortages begin, and even those with money come away from stores empty-handed. [...] The eagerly awaited food promised for Parcel Day arrives spoiled and defiled by rodents. - This is just so awful and despicable 😞 Life in the districts was already horrible but now the government does not even honor the extortionary rules they themselves have set up! I can’t help but wonder if the lack of food could be traced back to rebellions in the food supplying districts and, to keep this from the inhabitants of the Capitol, the reduced amount of good food was (obviously) kept for the Capitolites, so that the bad food had to be sent to the districts, anyway... It just seems like such a breach of ‘honor’/etiquette on the Capitol’s part, I dunno... Or maybe Snow was just desperate to use any means necessary to stamp out any potential rebellions in the districts that he still had some control over...

Gale goes home with no more talk of rebellion between us. But I can’t help thinking that everything he sees will only strengthen his resolve to fight back. [...] Rory has signed up for tesserae, something Gale can’t even speak about - Poor, Gale! Poor Hawthornes :(

My fingers have all but decided to release the arrow when I see the object in the glove. It’s a small white circle of flat bread. More of a cracker, really. Gray and soggy around the edges. But an image is clearly stamped in the center of it. It’s my mockingjay. - It is so very telling that the true symbol of the rebellion combines something symbolic of Katniss (which also contains a nod to Rue) and something symbolic of Peeta (the bread/cracker!) The people in the districts have rightfully recognized the both of them as symbol of the rebellion; they have a truer vision of the matter than the more artifically/forcefully constructed symbol of rebellion that D13 /Coin will push - we will also see that when the people in D13 will view Peeta as a traitor, while the rebels Katniss will visit in D8 instead ask her about Peeta and assure her that they know he was speaking under duress

#thgagain #thg #katniss everdeen #hunger games #thg meta #peeta mellark #haymitch abernathy #gale hawthorne #my sketches and drawings #thg fanart #catching fire

[struggling-with-time]

Mother’s aren’t always the best [Corpse x reader]

Paring: Corpse husband x female!reader (platonic)

Summary: You’re the youngest in the group and recently moved out. When your mother decides to pay you a visit while you’re streaming.

Warnings: Angst, fighting, yelling. Big bro Corpse, kinda abusive mom

Words: 1.5k

A/N: My job just cut my hours in half, so yay. If anyone want to, I have a Ko-fi in my bio, if you buy a fic through there you get to skip the queue. I know it’s not a lot, but it’s only if you want to of course! <3 Also I’ve wanted to write this for quite a bit

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

You have recently finally moved out from your home and is now able to stream on a schedule and far more often. While living at home your mother had been very against the mere thought of her daughter putting herself out there on the internet. Which meant you have had to tiptoe around when you wanted to stream. Only being able to do so when she left you home alone. The only good thing about having a single mom, was that she worked a lot. So that meant a lot of alone time.

You’ve never really gotten along with her. The two of you having very different views on life, she wanted you to grow up and be a pretty girl, you were supposed to study social science, and get a project of your own, and while doing so you were supposed to meet the guy you would eventually marry, and give her grandkids with.

However, that’s not really what you want to do with your life. Despite only being able to stream when you’re all alone and having to chuck your entire set up into the shirt drawer, knowing your mother wouldn’t go through your drawer as one of the only things. You had managed to build up a small following.

“Hey guys! Sorry for the delay, I wasn’t able to find my microphone.” You tell on stream, and to the group in the discord call.

“Are you settling in nicely Y/N?” Corpse asks, the two of you have been talking behind your mothers back for quite a while, he has become like the big brother you’ve never had.

“Yeah, I still have couple of boxes lying around…” You look around your small one-bedroom apartment. You only have your dining table, two chairs, and your bed set up. And your dining table have been converted into a streaming set up. So, there’s that too. You are lucky enough to have a small hallway, that leads to a bathroom at the end, and the kitchen on your right, and the bedroom/living room on the left.

“I take that you haven’t done any packing out yet.” Corpse chuckles.

“Hehe… Yeah… I haven’t gotten everything out, so I have ordered some takeout, that will sadly arrive here during steam, in about…” You look at the clock, “in about half an hour.”

“Then let’s get started!” Rae says, as the countdown starts.

You get through the first round of among us alive, and wining as crewmates, you’re about halfway through the second game of the day when your doorbells goes off in the middle of discussing.

“Sorry guys, I’ll just go grab my food.” You apologise, and gets up from your chair, leaving your microphone behind, thinking it’s muted.

You open your door, with your wallet in hand, and takes a step back when you realise who’s on the other side. It’s your mom. The one who you moved halfway across the country to get away from. The one who you didn’t give your address to.

She looks angry, and more than pissed off. You know she is going to start a screaming match right here. In the hallway of your new apartment complex, only 4 days into your lease.

“WHAT THE #@!$ IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” She starts off, a normal way to greet your daughter of course. “I GIVE YOU SHELTER AND FOOD ON THE TABLE FOR 18 YEARS AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME?!”

You take another step into your apartment, knowing if it comes to it that you must push the door in her face. She will win that fight.

“HAVEN’T I BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH?! YOU UP AND LEAVE ME, ALL ALONE! YOU DON’T GO TO THE COLLEGE I CHOSE FOR YOU! YOU GO AGAINST ALL MY RULES!”  She’s screaming right at you, you can feel yourself starting to shake. “And I know your little secret, you think you could keep it from me, huh? You think I am stupid don’t you. I know you’ve been selling your self on the internet for money.” You can feel tears are starting to come, this is what she thought you were doing.

She throws down a binder of some sorts on the ground, making you jump a little. “You’re not my daughter anymore. I refuse to have someone as disgusting as you even share my last name. Here’s everything you need from me to change it.”  

You watch as she passes your delivery guy, who looks at you awkwardly with tears streaming down your cheeks and a shocked look on your face. He puts down your order, and slowly walks away again.

You get yourself together after a few minutes, enough to close the door, and pick up the binder and food. You dump the food on your table, along with the binder. You run your hands over your face, before you pick up your headset, and try to act as chipper as ever, not having noticed you never muted your mic.

“Sorry for the long break, had to fix a smaller cable issue, but I’m all good now!” You don’t look at chat, instead you focus everything you can on keeping your energy up, and not for anyone to notice you’re not doing the best.

“Y/N are you alright?” Corpse asks, extremely worried over the fact that he just heard you get disowned by your own mother.

“Yes, of course, I’m always doing good!” Your voice shoving no hints to what everyone and their own mothers head. You watch as your phone gets a call from Corpse. “I think the next game have to wait a bit longer if everyone is cool with that?”

Everyone agrees they’re cool, nobody knows what to say after hearing what just happened. You mute your microphone properly this time. Before picking up your phone.

“Hey there.”

“We just talked Corpse, get to the point, we shouldn’t let the others wait for us for too long.” You tease him.

“We all heard?”

“Heard what?”

“Y/N I’m so sorry.” You can hear his voice crack a bit, and you can feel yourself edging a breakdown.

“It’s okay, we all knew it was coming at one point or the other.” You dryly laugh, trying to get out of the topic.

“We both know she’ll be back by next week, it’s not safe there.” He worries, you can hear him already stressing at the thought.

“I can’t exactly move. I blew everything I had by getting this place.” Your voice is slowly starting to crack and you know if you keep talking. You won’t be able to get back on stream.

“Then stay at me, I have a cough. It’s not safe there. She only yelled this time. But who knows what else she might try to pull?” You listen to Corpse, and subconsciously wrap an arm around yourself, still able to feel the bruises from when she hit you, because she found a stack of cash you had been saving up for yourself to get out. You break down sobbing.

“Y/N are you still with me?”

“Y-yes.” Your voice reaches through the phones, nearly covered by sobs.

“Can you get up for me? I need you to turn off your stream, okay? You’re not going back on there for tonight.”

You shake as you push the right button abruptly stopping the stream and leaving the discord call.

“Good.” It comes from the phone. “Let’s get you to bed.” He talks you through the tasks you have to do. Helping to distract you from the bad thing. He stays on the phone worried for you all night, until you’ve tired yourself out enough to fall asleep on the call. He wishes he could help more as he hangs up the phone. Knowing he’s the last of your support system. As the call end, it leaves you alone in the world. Now mother and fatherless.

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse husband fic #corpse husband fanfic #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband imagine #delias own writing

[robininthelabyrinth]

Three Gates - on ao3 (for content warnings check Ao3) - on tumblr: pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7, pt 8, pt 9, pt 10, pt 11

- Chapter 12 -

The Nightless City was grand and glorious, as luxurious as Koi Tower and as tasteful as the Cloud Recesses, and Meng Yao would burn it all down in a heartbeat for the chance to return to the familiar sparse stone and metal of the Unclean Realm.

Wen Ruohan had forgiven him for murdering Wu Bixian and blowing his cover once Meng Yao had explained the circumstances, although he’d been displeased; Meng Yao had had to work his way back into his inner circle the hard way, inventing monstrous machines for him to use in his Fire Palace, where he played at treating torture the way other people viewed sport.

Meng Yao had once dreamed of torturing his enemies – initially defined as anyone who insulted his mother, but later expanded to include anyone who made a serious effort to harm Nie Mingjue and recently he had been considering an additional expansion to loop in the same for Lan Xichen – but now he realized that torture was boring and burdensome and messy, and a quick execution was clearly much more effective.

There was a lot less upkeep, for one.

A lot fewer tormented doctors as well – that poor Wen Qing would probably have never picked up her needles if she’d known this was where she was going to end up using them, that was for sure – and anyway, neither of his lovers would have approved so it was all a moot point anyway.

Possibly former lovers.

Not that they’d ever actually made it to the stage of being lovers, what with Lan Xichen’s sect rules and parental trauma, Meng Yao’s nightmares of the brothel, and Nie Mingjue’s experiences with Wen Ruohan…

Probably for the best, actually, given what Meng Yao now knew about Nie Mingjue – something that he was almost certain that Nie Mingjue did not know about himself.

A few months at Wen Ruohan’s side had certainly been enlightening on that front. As Meng Yao might’ve suspected, he treated even the people in his clan about the same as wooden furniture, useful to varying degrees but all ultimately disposable, and someone like Meng Yao, a talented retainer he’d stolen from another sect and who had no way out, made for amusing company.

Wen Ruohan had in fact heard the rumor of someone in the Nie sect being born as a yang furnace, very likely from Wu Bixian himself in an attempt to get rid of what he perceived to be a stain on the sect’s reputation, and he’d investigated, ultimately figuring out that the person in question was Nie Mingjue. A yang furnace, Meng Yao learned, was considerably rarer than a yin furnace, requiring the right horoscope and lucky (or unlucky) parentage, and was considered far more precious – people with that constitution would have an incredible talent for cultivation themselves, but would also be able to magnify, many times over, the cultivation or even cultivation potential of those with whom they engaged in dual cultivation.

The furnace’s consent in the matter was not required.

After discovering the truth, Wen Ruohan had apparently gone back and forth for some time in deciding whether to snatch him up immediately, training him up as a concubine reserved for the use of the Wen clan, but one of his more esoteric specialists had told him that the sort of intense cultivation techniques he had in mind would likely kill a child and, more importantly, that the positive effect on his own cultivation would be magnified if Nie Mingjue’s cultivation were higher when he began.

“Sect Leader Wen’s patience is admirable,” Meng Yao said with the sort of smile he’d worn when talking to the brothel owner that used to beat his mother on a regular basis just so she’d ‘remember her place’. “If only I had known..! I am not so certain I could resist such a temptation for years on end.”

Wen Ruohan laughed. “Well, I must admit I gave it a half-hearted effort a few times. The doctors did say that a few times early on wouldn’t hurt.”

By hurt he meant damage to Nie Mingjue’s ability to cultivate, or to cultivate with others, not to the lifetime of nightmares and terror that Nie Mingjue suffered as a result of his unrelenting pursuit.

“Though on that subject,” Wen Ruohan continued, a faint smile on his face, “perhaps you’d like to take a look at the room I’ve prepared for him, and let me know if you have any suggestions – anything you think he’d enjoy for the times when he’s not – in service.”

“Of course, Sect Leader Wen.”

“Naturally, if you also have any proposals regarding any of your marvelous machines…”

“Naturally, Sect Leader Wen.”

“Good,” Wen Ruohan praised. “If you please me well enough, perhaps I’ll let you take a turn once I’m done with him.”

He had other requests, too, which were even less savory – mostly storytelling, Meng Yao casting his mind back to his days at the brothel and even in desperation some of the artwork Nie Huaisang insisted on collecting to describe all sorts of scenarios for Wen Ruohan’s evident enjoyment.

Meng Yao took a bath as often as he could plausibly manage it, and still felt unclean.

(Chiwen, hidden away as best as he could in the room he’d been assigned because a Nie saber did not voluntarily enter Wen hands, screamed in his head. He hated everything about what they were doing.)

It was amazing, Meng Yao thought, how far self-deception could go: he had thought, once, that he would be able to distract and dissuade Wen Ruohan without losing anything along the way, that he could sell himself without counting the cost, and at the last he realized that his mother had been right about warning him not to get used to making deals with bad men.

Wu Bixian, too. He had thought that Wen Ruohan’s goal was domination of the cultivation world, his pursuit of Nie Mingjue only a means to get there or at best a distraction, when in fact Wen Ruohan wanted to be a god, to break through the barrier of cultivation and rise up to the heavens, and he believed that Nie Mingjue could get him there.

And yet Wen Ruohan, too, was deceived – he thought that everything in the world was meaningless grist to that great ambition’s mill, thought that everything he did was for power and power only. And yet there was the great care and attention with which he had filled the prison room in the Nightless City with all the things Nie Mingjue liked, things that he’d figured out from casual mentions in discussion conferences, the fascination in his eyes when Meng Yao told him stories that were sometimes so very boring and mundane, the casual way he dismissed even his own heir’s death at Nie Mingjue’s hands…

Perhaps the interest had been merely practical once, but it certainly was no longer.

At least the war was going well.

Not much else was.

His letters with Wen Ruohan had been belatedly discovered and publicized, his betrayal becoming widely known – Wen Ruohan deliberately cutting off Meng Yao’s route of return, no doubt. The fact that it was a good move, and one Meng Yao would have done if he were in his place, did not make it any easier to swallow.

He had always assumed he would be there to explain the letters to Nie Mingjue.

He’d said so many cruel things in those letters over the years, hurtful things, things he didn’t believe but thought that Wen Ruohan would like to hear – things about Lao Nie, about Nie Mingjue, about Baxia, about Nie Huaisang…disdainful, wretched things, lies that had flowed so easily out of his brush when he’d thought it was all a game.

He didn’t want to think about Nie Mingjue hearing them – seeing them – reading them –

He didn’t want Nie Mingjue to think that was how he really felt.

Some days, in the middle of the night in the too-brightly-lit core of the Nightless City, Meng Yao put his head in his hands and felt the prickle of tears in his eyes. He should have known better, he thought. He shouldn’t have tried to take it all on his own shoulders; he shouldn’t have assumed he’d be able to explain, that he could swear on Chiwen that his motives were pure and that all would be easily forgiven; he should have told Nie Mingjue what he was doing early on so that it would not come to him as a surprise –

He should not have repeated his mother’s mistake from all those years ago.

(“They don’t trust us!” Lao Nie had shouted, his voice still audible behind those stone walls, and Nie Mingjue had gone silent, the words hitting their mark and leaving a wound, before he’d started arguing once again.)

Meng Yao had originally planned on having both Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen act as his contacts during the war, but instead for his sins he got stone-faced Lan Wangji and, eventually, red-eyed Wei Wuxian, who was clearly still deeply shaken by the near-destruction of the Lotus Pier and how close he had come to losing everyone he loved.

(Meng Yao killed time in between boring torture, nauseating dinners with Wen Ruohan, and interacting with his two contacts in trying to figure out how to get said contacts to confess their obvious attraction to each other without ever actually telling them to their face that they were being idiots.

How anyone had ever compared him to Wei Wuxian – citing their status as fatherless children being raised by sect leaders alongside their heirs – he honestly did not know; the boy had a genius for cultivating and the arrogance to go with it, but simply no common sense whatsoever. Meng Yao was his exact opposite.)

They had both briefly been guests of the Wen sect, brought in by the same invitation that had been forcefully extended to Nie Huaisang; once they were there, they were given to Wen Chao to lead and reshape. Obviously that went about as badly as anyone could imagine, Wen Chao being what he was.

Nie Huaisang had been there too, of course, and Meng Yao hadn’t dared go anywhere near him. It wasn’t that he doubted his own acting abilities, or Nie Huaisang’s for that matter, but rather his own perception. Nie Huaisang was a very good liar, and if Meng Yao got it into his head that his own blood brother didn’t believe him, he might very well fall apart.

So he didn’t go.

That turned out to be a mistake.

Apparently, not showing up was seen as some sort – admission of guilt, perhaps, because the second Nie Huaisang returned to the Unclean Realm, things started going very badly indeed. Many of his old contacts stopped talking to him or even disappeared, even the ones he would have sworn Nie Huaisang had no knowledge of, and he didn’t even want to think about how many of his plans ran into obstacles that had nothing to do with luck and had everything to do with Nie Huaisang’s Nie temper.

Meng Yao only hoped that the cause of the temper tantrum was his failure to apologize for not letting Nie Huaisang properly into his schemes, and not that Nie Huaisang thought –

Surely Nie Huaisang would have said something to Wei Wuxian or Lan Wangji if he didn’t believe Meng Yao to be trustworthy? They were peers, had been schoolmates, and a few months together was more than enough time for Nie Huaisang to get the measure of them – he had to know what they were doing on his behalf, surely, and he hadn’t stopped them, so…

Sometimes Meng Yao thought that his circular rationalizations would drive him mad, long before anything else about this horrible life of his did.

(He also thought, sometimes, about how his mother would feel – how she did feel – about what he was doing, and whether she approved or not. He usually tried to stop thinking about it as soon as possible.)

At any rate, the sect heirs had all escaped after some unfortunate encounter with a corrupted Xuanwu that made Meng Yao twitch in fear when he belatedly learned about it, and soon after that the war began in earnest.

The Nie sect took Heijian, as had always been the plan; the Wen sect’s cultivators threw themselves against their iron wall without any success and even some heavy losses, especially whenever Nie Mingjue himself there to lead battles. The Lan sect was scattered after the burning of the Cloud Recesses, but Lan Wangji’s early warning had preserved more of their lives than might have otherwise been accounted for – the attack on the Lotus Pier had been similarly blunted through timely advice, although Jiang Fengmian’s stubborn refusal to take immediate action had resulted in injuries, some rather serious.

Two major attacks, in under a year – the rest of the cultivation world was alarmed. A sizeable number chosen to give in at once, while others opted to join the opposing forces, and war was everywhere.

Meng Yao had hoped that his information would be enough to tip the balance, that he could play the same role he’d played against Wen Ruohan in the past – acting as an interruption, but never quite tipping his hand. Never pushing for the real reward, taking the big risk…

The war dragged on.

There were some close calls – some difficult battles. People were dying on both sides. Several times there were reports of terrible injury to key people; the death of someone he loved was only a matter of time.

It seemed that he didn’t have a choice but to take more dramatic action.

Evil, Chiwen screamed in his mind, just as he had every day since Meng Yao had arrived at this horrible place. Kill it!

Meng Yao wished it was so easy.

“Do you mind if I borrow your brother?” he asked Wen Qing, who glared at him but accepted the jar of wine he offered her. “Just for a while.”

“None of your machines,” she said at once. He couldn’t blame her.

“No machines,” he agreed. “I need a courier.”

She paused, then put the wine down. “Out of the Nightless City? Safely?”

He smiled.

Wen Ning was delighted to see Wei Wuxian, and the feeling was decidedly mutual – Meng Yao had picked Wen Ning in part because of the extraordinary initiative he had taken at the Lotus Pier, initiative that made the entire Jiang clan quite fond of him – and Wei Wuxian happily agreed to smuggle Wen Ning out of Qishan to deliver a private message.

“Make sure he gets to Lan Xichen,” Meng Yao instructed. “A message can be compromised or lost – a person, not so easily.”

“I’ll do my best,” Wei Wuxian said, and almost looked approving, like he thought that Meng Yao was doing this to save Wen Ning from the worst of the war.

He had no idea what Meng Yao was doing.

“Wei Wuxian,” Meng Yao said when they were about to leave. “What does Lan Xichen say about me?”

A blink, there and gone. “He fears for your safety, and hopes you are well.”

“And – Nie Mingjue?”

He didn’t bother asking about Nie Huaisang. If his brother didn’t want someone to know how he felt, no one would ever have the slightest clue.

Wei Wuxian hesitated, and Meng Yao waited, and in the end Wei Wuxian finally said, “I don’t think I’ve heard him say anything about you at all.”

Meng Yao nodded. It was no less than he’d expected, for all that it felt as if his heart were shattering. “Thank you. Please go.”

Wei Wuxian would take Wen Ning to Lan Xichen, and Lan Xichen would believe the words of a person more than he believed a letter – it was his nature to do so, especially when that person was as serious and earnest as Wen Ning, who seemed so trustworthy and who would never knowingly tell a lie.

But a person who would never knowingly tell a lie could still be made to carry one, and so Lan Xichen would listen to Wen Ning, and he would take what Wen Ning told him to Nie Mingjue, and Nie Mingjue – who might have questioned information brought by Wen Ning but who would never question Lan Xichen, the way he had previously never questioned Meng Yao – Nie Mingjue would listen, and believe, and act on that belief.

He would go to Yangquang –

And Wen Ruohan would be waiting for him.

Sometimes Meng Yao hated himself.

#mdzs #meng yao #jin guangyao #wen ruohan #wei wuxian #wen qing #wen ning #my fic #my fics #three gates

[jayfrost-designs]

This is also from December of last year.

I've had a new idea in my head for Darkstripe for a while now, and after getting all those other ref sheets that I needed to do done, I decided to run with it.  You may have noticed a change in the name of his father in his bio. Don't worry about that just yet.  I'll get to it after talking about the design.

The reverse side of his design can be seen here.

On his wiki page, Darkstripe is described as a large, lean, sleek, and thin-furred tom. I misread the "thin-furred" part of his description as "thick-furred" when I started designing this, so he ended up with a rather thick pelt. Oops.  My explanation/excuse for this is that the thin-furred description comes from his appearance as a Dark Forest cat, so as a living cat he had sleek, thick fur, but after dying he started going all patchy and ragged and his fur started to get pretty thin in places. So that's my half-baked excuse for that.  I went pretty free-hand with this design, but he's mostly based on Turkish Vans, and is meant to be decent-sized and muscular, with a thick mediumish pelt. He has a smaller version of his mother's ear tufts and a decent amount of scars, since he was always pretty aggresive.

For his pattern, Darkstripe is described as a dark gray tabby tom with black stripes and yellow eyes. I completely changed his design from his old one and went for a smoke tabby look for him this time around. His black stripes don't stand out as much as on his old design since the rest of the pelt is darker now, but they're still there, and he's overall a very dark-looking cat, so Dark- fits him well as a prefix. I played around with his design a lot before I was happy with it, but I'm really happy with the end result. ^^ I came up with a fresh shade of yellow for his eyes as well. ^^

Now for the fun part. Since Tawnyspots is no longer listed as his father on the official family tree, I decided to come up with a new headcanon for who his father is. I considered a few cats from ThunderClan at first, but none of them seemed to fit. But then I had a really interesting idea for his father - and for the reason he's a smoke tabby. I'll explain everything below - starting with Willowpelt's story. Apologies in advance for the length. ^^

~-~-~

As a young cat, Willowpelt gets lonely sometimes. Her sister is busy training to be a medicine cat, and Redtail throws himself into his warrior duties so much that he doesn’t spend as much time with her as either of them would like. She doesn’t begrudge either of them their ambitions - she knows Redtail wants to be the best warrior he possibly can (and later has his eye on the deputyship), and Spottedleaf will make an amazing medicine cat. But she doesn’t share their ambitions. She’s always been a much more relaxed cat, content to do her duties as a warrior, but not pushing beyond that, preferring to spend her time racing through the forest on the wild excitement of the hunt, and spend lazy days sunning in the grass, rather than busying herself with constant patrols and duties.

So while her siblings are busy with their work, Willowpelt seeks out companionship elsewhere. She’d always been curious about twolegplace, hearing stories about how their last leader had left to live there, and decided to check it out one day. She doesn’t find Pinestar - but she does find some friendly kittypets who welcome the visit of a real wild Clan cat. She continued to visit occasionally over the moons, whenever she’s feeling particularly lonely. She’s never swayed by the thought of becoming a kittypet herself - she loves her Clan, and her freedom, too much - but she’s happy to visit her kittypet friends whenever she can.

She grows particularly close with a sleek, handsome smoke tom called Sparky. A few moons later, she finds herself expecting the tom’s kits. The two aren’t in love, and Sparky rejects Willowpelt’s offer to join ThunderClan and help raise the kits, but it’s all very amicable and the two remain on close terms. Willowpelt is perfectly happy to raise her kits alone. She later gives birth to a single tom, Darkkit, who looks remarkably like his father. The Clan gossips a little about who the father could possibly be (Willowpelt covers her tracks visiting Twolegplace better than Featherstorm had), but overall they’re just happy to have another kit after the nursery has been empty so long, since White-eye’s last litter.

Willowpelt plans to tell Darkkit about his parentage when he’s old enough, but the young tom grows bitter after moons of some of the stricter cats whispering about his unknown parentage, and the loneliness of being the only kit in the nursery. Willowpelt always assures him that there’s nothing wrong with him and is a fiercely loving mother, but her laidback attitude about borders and rules bothers him - other warriors take these things seriously, so shouldn’t she? A kernel of doubt begins to weed its way onto Darkkit’s mind - what if Willowpelt won’t tell anyone who his father is because his father doesn’t want him? What if it was because he isn’t good enough to be this mystery tom's son? Willowpelt longs to comfort her son that his father does care and does want to be part of his life, but she’s not sure he’s old enough to understand the truth about his father, so she waits.

With all this doubt and bitterness swirling inside him, it’s no surprise that upon becoming an apprentice, Darkpaw immediately attaches himself to the first cat who seems ready to take him seriously and see some potential in him - his new mentor Tigerclaw. To Darkpaw, Tigerclaw is everything a warrior should be. He has the strength of TigerClan, the courage of LionClan, and  is the wisest, most loyal warrior in the entire Clan in the young tom’s eyes. He can’t believe his luck in snagging such a skilled and brave warrior as his mentor, and quickly learns to worship the ground Tigerclaw walks on. A secret part of his heart wonders whether Tigerclaw is his father. They both have dark tabby pelts and fur that grows darker at the points, and while Darkpaw isn’t nearly as tall and long-furred as the older tom, he’s still broader and taller than his mother, and could have inherited that from Tigerclaw. He works tirelessly to mold himself after Tigerclaw’s image and takes all of his training to heart - including his views on loyalty and cats from outside of the Clan.

Willowpelt had intended to tell Darkpaw about his father a moon or so into his training, but the longer he trained with Tigerclaw, the more disdainful he grew of cats outside of the warrior code, especially kittypets. She worries about how much the tom has changed, but he doesn’t seem willing to listen to her anymore, so there’s little she can do to curb Tigerclaw’s influence on her son. She resolved to continue hiding the truth of his father, as Darkpaw is probably happier not knowing the truth, and resolves to keep an eye on her son. It’s not all bad, she assures herself. Tigerclaw has taken the fatherless tom under his wing just as Thistleclaw had done for him, and he seems genuinely proud of his young apprentice - in his own stoic way - and is molding him into a strong warrior. As long as Darkpaw is happy, that’s what matters - right?

Though Darkpaw, then later Darkstripe definitely grows more scornful of others and more conceited over the moons, Willowpelt tries to stay optimistic. He’s a bit of a jerk, yes, but otherwise he seems like a perfectly loyal and happy warrior. But that illusion starts to chip away little by little after Tigerclaw’s exile as Darkstripe continues to show an unhealthy attachment to such a traitor, and then comes crashing down completely the day that Darkstripe tries to poison his own half sister. Unbeknownst to the rest of the Clan, Willowpelt sneaks out after Darkstripe as he’s departing the territory for his exile.

Rage and heartbreak bubble under her pelt in equal measures as she faces her eldest son. Something inside of her is wailing at the loss of the son that she’d loved, and her failure to protect him from becoming this, but the rest of her feels an icy calm. She faces Darkstripe, coldly informing him that if he’s fool enough to follow Tigerstar on his rampage against “impure” cats, then he’d better hand himself over as well for being impure. He’s the very thing that he’s always hated, the thing that he has been relentless in mocking Firestar for being - he’s half kittypet. Darkstripe flies into a rage, shrieking that it isn’t true, it can’t be true, that Willowpelt never loved him and is just lying to make him doubt himself. He tries to attack his mother, but she dances out of range, still glaring at him with icy calm while her heart continues to wail its pain inside of her. She tells him that she loved him with all of her heart, and that if he’d let go of his bitterness and his unhealthy devotion to an admitted traitor long enough he would’ve seen that, but that now it’s too late. She’ll always love him, but she will never forgive him for what he’s done to her daughter. She leaves him there on the border between ThunderClan and TigerClan. He hesitates, but only for a moment. Then he slips into TigerClan territory.

Unfortunately, Darkstripe’s reception at the TigerClan camp is chillier than expected. It was true that Tigerstar had once felt genuine pride and companionship for Darkstripe as his apprentice and as a fellow warrior. He’d always known that Darkstripe was a bit of a suck-up, but he was still strong and a powerful warrior in his own right, and Tigerstar had been proud of the efforts of his first run as a mentor. However, his opinion of Darkstripe had lessened after the tom refused to follow him into exile, and had dropped even more sharply after one of his Twolegplace allies had told him about a smoke kittypet who’d mentioned being friends with forest cats. Tigerstar had taken the chance to spy on the kittypet from a tree one day, only to be shocked at the sight of a cat nearly identical to Darkstripe.

After that, Tigerstar had put together the pieces and realized that Darkstripe was the son of a kittypet. He tells Darkstripe as much when he arrives in TigerClan, glaring down at the groveling tom with a sneer. That kittypet blood has tainted him with weakness, he claimed, weakness that had kept him from following Tigerstar into exile, that had made him fail again and again at Tigerstar’s commands as his spy, and that had made him fail at the simple task of killing one insignificant little kit. Darkstripe quivers before the tom, protesting that it couldn’t be true, though with Tigerstar’s account of the smoke kittypet, he’s starting to realize that it must be. He wails that he’d never known, that Willowpelt had hidden it from him, that she is the true traitor. He didn’t care who his father was, he whimpers - his loyalty was to Tigerstar, it had always been to Tigerstar, and it always would be.

Tigerstar watched the sniveling display with disdain. The tom was undoubtedly tainted by the weakness of his blood, but he’d always shown devotion to Tigerstar. Perhaps he could be given one last chance - but only one. He tells the tom that if he is ever to be anything but the sniveling son of a kittypet, he must prove himself willing to eradicate any disloyalty in the new Clan and pledge himself entirely loyal. He considers ordering the tom to hunt down his kittypet father and slay him, or to sneak into ThunderClan territory and kill his treacherous mother. But there are more pressing concerns facing his Clan right now, and he can’t have one of his warriors off on some lengthy mission to get one well-guarded cat alone when TigerClan is on the verge of conquering the other Clans. Such tests of his loyalty can come later. For now, perhaps a simpler task will do. He still needs someone to take care of those halfClan prisoners after all...

Of course, Darkstripe fails in that task too, and Tigerstar’s rage at yet another failure from his half-kittypet lackey is fearsome to behold. It is only the need for every fighting warrior available for the battle to come that keeps Tigerstar from punishing Darkstripe more severely. A worse fate may have awaited Darkstripe after the battle’s end, had Tigerstar not fallen under Scourge’s claws. And yet, Darkstripe continues his nearly obsessive devotion to the cat he still thinks of as his true father, even if he isn’t a father by blood, and he ends up dying in his quest to avenge the murderous tom. And yet, even a death in service to Tigerstar isn’t enough to truly raise him in the tom’s eyes, and he spends his seasons in the Dark Forest being overshadowed by a Tigerstar’s true sons, until the end of the Dark Battle leaves him to wander alone in the darkness forever.

~-~-~

Anyway, that’s my mini-essay on Darkstripe’s father and life story. XD Overall, I'm really happy with how his design turned out, and I had a lot of fun coming up with his parents' story and his story in regards to thinking of Tigerstar as his father. I also like how silhouette-wise, he looks a fair bit like Graystripe, but their patterns make them decently distinct from each other.

#Warriors #Warrior Cats #Erin Hunter #WC #Darkstripe #Darkpaw #Darkkit #ThunderClan #Rogue #ShadowClan #RiverClan #TigerClan #The Prophecies Begin #The Dark Forest #Dark Forest #Place of No Stars #Kittypet

[ourimpavidheroine]

Day 8 - Pillow Talk

“Did you leave?” Li’s voice was hazy with sleep and Pearl looked back from the window.

“No. I’m over here.” She couldn’t see much; there was a new moon outside, and the muted spill of light from the buildings surrounding them wasn’t making much headway into the darkness.

“Come back to bed.” Li yawned, and snuggled back into her sheets. When Pearl didn’t answer, Li yawned again. “Suit yourself then, love.” She thought that’d be the end of it but Li wasn’t giving up. “Come on, I’m cold. Warm me up?” When she still didn’t answer Li sat up. “Pearl?”

“Sorry,” she said, and turned back to look at her. Li was the wife of a merchant who traveled most of the year and who she’d been told was fine with his wife having women on the side. She’d look up Li whenever she was in the area, spend a couple of weeks relaxing in her easy company, no strings attached. Li only knew her as Pearl the airbender - Pearl made a point to never use her last name wherever she was - and the most she’d ever asked or learned about Li had been an assurance that her husband wouldn’t show up unannounced and threatening violence.

“You coming back to bed?” Li was a little hesitant but gamely scooted over when Pearl walked back across the room and slid next to her. “There. That’s better.” She was quiet then, hoping that Li would fall back asleep. But a hand wandered across her thigh and Li curled up around her. “You okay, love?”

She should have just said she was fine; she could have rolled over, kissed the woman, and they would have either gone back to sleep or engaged in other activities which would have put them to sleep eventually. She startled herself, deeply, by saying, “My daughter turns ten today.”

There was a sharp, meaningful silence, and when Li spoke again, she was no longer sleepy. “You have a daughter?”

“Yeah. Today’s her birthday. Or tomorrow, I’m not sure what time it is.”

Li stirred, and her hand slid away. “Is she…”

It took her a moment to understand. “No, she’s fine.”

Li pulled back a little. “Where is she?”

She sighed. She absolutely should have gone with kissing instead of speaking. “She lives with my parents.”

“I don’t understand. Do the airbenders forbid you to see her?”

She startled to bristle but let it go. Most people knew next to nothing about airbenders and who could blame them? There hadn’t been any around for so many years and even before that the airbenders had kept strictly to themselves, for the most part. There was a lot of misinformation out there. “No, of course not. She’s an airbender too, as is my mother. My mother was one of the original Harmonic Convergence airbenders, in fact.”

Li pulled completely away from her. “What about the girl’s father?”

She snorted. “There were a few potential candidates, I’m not sure which one actually did the deed. I’ve never bothered to try and figure it out.”

“So your daughter doesn’t know who her father is and she lives with her grandparents?”

She shrugged. “Airbenders don’t worry about that kind of thing like other people do.” Which was and wasn’t true. Way back in the day, when Avatar Aang was just a boy, the airbenders raised their children communally and, when they were old enough, separated them into gender-based temples. Most of the pre-war airbenders didn’t know - never mind cared - who their birth parents were; it wasn’t considered important. Aang had changed that when he married Katara, however, and raised his children himself, a tradition continued by Tenzin and most of the airbenders alive today. Airbenders had changed, so much. The old ways were, for most intents and purposes, gone.

She would never stop wishing she’d been born three hundred years earlier than she had been.

“Do you see her?” Li’s voice, heavy with censure, interrupted her thoughts.

“I haven’t seen her for about a year and a half. Trust me, she’s better off.” Emerald was better off. Pearl had been raised on stories of her great-grandmother, who had decided to bring up both of her fatherless daughters and who had then, for all intents and purposes, left them to themselves. She’d seen the damage of that decision firsthand in both her grandmother and great-aunt. There was no way she would make that same mistake. Emerald was being raised in love and security, with grandparents who cared for her deeply, in an established airbending community who would see to her training and well-being.

The look on then eight year old Emerald’s face when she and Boom-Boom had left Republic City the last time, the way she had sobbed and had called out I’ll be good, Mommy, don’t go! Please don’t go! wasn’t something that bore thinking about. So she didn’t think about it, plain and simple. She liked Li, enjoyed her company, but this little jaunt down memory lane wasn’t why she was here. She especially wasn’t here to get lectured or judged. She slid back out of the bed and made her way to the chair where she’d left her wingsuit the evening prior.

“Are you leaving?” The woman’s voice rose incredulously.

“Places to fly, things to see, you know how it goes,” she said, fumbling a bit with her wingsuit in the dark. “It’s been real, honey.”

The woman sat up, drawing her sheets up around her breasts. “That’s it? You tell me you’ve abandoned your daughter and then fuck off?”

Her Beifong temper, always simmering under the surface, started to rise. “That’s about it, yeah.”

“I had a child once.” The woman’s voice was tight. “He was born too early. I named him Chan. He never even took a single breath.”

She sighed. “I’m sorry for your loss.” She fastened her wingsuit and sat down to put on her boots.

“Do you know what I would give to have a living child? I can’t believe you’d do this to your own daughter, that you’d-”

She surged upwards. “You know what? I’m going to stop you right there. I’m very sorry for your son, but you don’t know anything about me or my family or my daughter." She took in a deep breath and wrestled her temper back into submission. "Like I said, it’s been real. See you later.” Boots in hand, she walked out of the room, down the corridor, ignoring the woman’s indignant squawks, the usual accusations, the same old shit she heard from just about everyone. Fine. She was a terrible mother who didn’t deserve her daughter. She was well aware of this, she didn’t need it thrown into her face by anyone, especially not a woman who made her lovers come and go through the back door. Which was why she left by the front door, deliberately stopping there to put on her boots, cheerfully waving to several villagers out for a late night or a very early morning, greeting them as their eyes widened and they looked between her and the door.

She walked through the village, refusing to run, until she came to the field where Boom-Boom was lounging. He opened a single eye and peered at her, grunting as he thrust his head forward and whuffed his musky breath all over her face. Boom-Boom loved her, he was always glad to see her, no matter what. “We’re heading out, Boomster,” she said, and walked over to where his saddle was, using her bending to get it up on his back.

When he was saddled and the dawn was showing its first spiky pink tendrils she leapt to his neck, giving his reins a twitch with the usual Yip-yip. She guided him south, not sparing a look behind her for the village. She wouldn’t be back again.

“Happy Birthday, baby,” she sent out into the wind, and if she cried, there was no one around to know.

#my fanfiction #2021 Year End Prompts #long post

[snkpolls]

SnK Episode 65 Poll Results (for Manga Readers)

The poll closed with 318 responses. Thank you to everyone who participated!

Please note that these are the results for the Manga Readers’ poll. If you wish to see the results for the Anime Only Watchers’ poll, click here.

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RATE THE EPISODE 309 Responses

Overall the episode was a hit with viewers, with the majority ranking it a 4 or higher. Over half of all respondents rating it a solid 5. The hype is real!

I thought this was a great episode. A lot of hype moments and the CGI worked for me, for the most part. Looking forward to the next episode!

All around exceeded my expectations if mappa keeps this up this will go down as the best anime in history

Chef's KISS!!! 10/10 episode, i was extremely hyped the entire time. 

It was amazing and I hope MAPPA keeps up with the same quality for future episodes

Amazing episode really hype

I thought the voice acting was amazing! :)

Great episode, not perfect but neither was WIT. No adaptation is perfect. This was fantastic.

It was pretty good just maybe good have been done better but I’m just happy it was done at all.

I’ve lowered my expectations to rock bottom at this point

An enjoyable time.

I think it was great! I was very excited and left me wanting more tbh

It was a very good episode!! I'm so happy to see the survey corps again!

WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING MOMENTS WAS YOUR FAVORITE? 310 Responses

Mikasa’s reintroduction to the series takes the largest piece of the pie, with 31.6% enjoying the scene the most. In second comes the coordinated attack from the Survey Corps against Porco, with 14.8% feeling that scene really brings the hype. At 10.3%, Levi’s first appearance in the season takes 3rd place, and with 9.7% is the overall fight between Eren and the War Hammer Titan.

Ackermans ran this episode as they should. They're on a whole different level. 

Why isn't the Sasha-Gabi moment in the list of favourite moments? That's my actually favourite moment. Gabi seeing Sasha through the fire and smoke, Sasha's reflection in her eyes...chilling.

THE CGI CONTINUES TO BE A POINT OF CONTENTION. BE HONEST, HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THE EXECUTION OF CGI SO FAR THIS SEASON? 309 Responses

In general, the fandom appears to be understanding of MAPPA’s usage of CGI, with 38.2% being completely unbothered by it, 20.1% feeling that while it’s not ideal, it could be much worse, and 18.8% not particularly caring for it but not faulting MAPPA for it either. A handful of people just wish that there would be more appreciation that it’s getting animated at all, while others continue to be a bit salty about the usage of CGI this season.

Did people forgot the god-awful Colossal titan's CGI from WIT? Well, I didn't so I wasn't surprised by the same level of CGI in Eren's scene (thankfully just one of them). I rarely have issue with CGI in SnK except for truly awful looking ones so like couple of times in the season, usually. 

I honestly wouldn't even know there's CGI if everyone wasn't complaining about it. I honest to god can't see where they use it.

It's mostly fine

I thought the war hammer titan looked AMAZING, the only CGI that looked odd was the scouts in the background, but that’s really it...?

A few sore spots (e.g. Erens titan looked kinda off this ep), but it's not season-ruining yet. 

CGI Titans >>>>>>>> CGI Survey Corps

It works fine for titans that already look somewhat mechanical (Armor, Jaw), but it looks incredibly awkward for the others, to the point of taking me out of the story. 

Sometimes great sometimes shit

Maybe I've been spoiled by studio orange and the previous seasons, but I know for a fact that they can do better. This is not a new anime, this is the final season of one of the greatest anime of all time, so yeah I expected much better CGI, it was poor and unecessary.

i think it’s gr8/unnoticeable,,,,,like we all put up with the colossal titan in s1-3 lmao

Some Titans like Eren and Beast look a little weird but I just really like how they made effort to make it blend with the art style. Maybe if they had found a way to cut the animation down to 12fps it might not look so bad? Anyways I think it’s good for what it is, MAPPA is doing their best!

I barely noticed it. The animation looks BOMB. Top 5 episodes of the whole series for me and BEST action episode of AOT easily.

I'm always going to prefer 2D but I understand why they're using it. Still sad about what could've been if they were given enough time to work on the season. Definitely going to lower my expectations.

My dumbass wouldn't even notice, I just want to see the pretty people

I think the CGI for the Titans is completely fine. It's the CGI for the Scouts that was a bit off putting for me. Still, not enough to ruin the episode. And if we continue to get animation of this standard I will be fine with it. 

At this point after episode 7 onward eventually AOT CGI is going to be worst than EX-arm's CGI 

I love it because it makes the titans scarier and more eerie? I also miss the 2D ones because they feel more natural. Overall, I think it's fine!

I think the CGi is well executed (for the most part), I just don't like that they had to use it so much.

It's a great job. They manage to execute it very well and go to a normal animation when it's needed. It doesn't bother me tbh

HOW WAS EREN’S ROOFTOP SWAN DIVE? 309 Responses

Eren’s dive in the anime was a bit different than in the manga, but it seemed to get a few laughs out of the fandom, so we asked you all to rank it. 58.3% felt it was the most beautiful dive to have ever dived, while only 5.5% think Eren really needs to work on his form. He did his best.

WHICH RETURNING CHARACTER’S ENTRANCE WAS YOUR FAVORITE IN THIS EPISODE? 310 Responses

Mikasa stole the show this episode, with 53.5% enjoying her entrance the most. Levi wasn’t too far behind though, with 29% of respondents hyped over his return. 11.6% were very happy to see Sasha again, while smaller chunks were glad to see Jean and Connie.

They massacred my Jean-boy’s entrance 🥲

WHICH RETURNING CHARACTER HAS THE BEST MAPPA-STYLE GLOW UP? 304 Responses

We got a more colorful and evened out pie for this question. Overall the largest chunk, at 24.3%, are enjoying MAPPA’s take on Eren’s iconic “hobo chic” look. 21.1% think Sasha looks the best out of all of them, while Mikasa trails just behind her at 20.1%. 16.1% are grateful for Connie’s design, leaving 9.5% favoring Jean, and smaller handfuls appreciating MAPPA’s take on Levi and Floch.

Chubby Floch

Here I am watching the trailer all over again because that's probably the only way to see Jean animated handsome and with his actual manga face. MAPPA what happened?

Levi has a thicc ass

I’m a big fan of all the time skip character designs, it was hard to pick just one favourite :) 

Jean looked stupid... Floch too but that's not important.

OG characters designs feels a bit off to me. I understand why they use CG for some parts and I have mixed emotions about it. I hope they won't rely on it too much on the upcoming episodes.

#ITSTIMEMIKASA WAS TRENDING ON TWITTER BEFORE THE EPISODE AIRED. ON A SCALE OF 1-5, HOW MUCH DID IT LIVE UP TO THE HYPE? 304 Responses

One of the most anticipated scenes of the Marley arc was the return of the Survey Corps and the way Mikasa paves the path for their reintroduction. The fandom appears to be very happy with MAPPA’s execution of the scene, with 60.9% of respondents rating it with a 5, with 27% rating it a 4. 

EEEEEEEEEEK MIKASA

Mikasa! Mikasa! Gosh love her!

im so glad mikasa is back owfejgrnrkdfs

MAPPA INCLUDED FILLER AT THE BEGINNING OF THE EPISODE OF WILLY HESITANTLY DEPARTING FROM HIS TEARFUL FAMILY. WHAT DID YOU THINK OF THE ADDITION? 310 Responses

The series isn’t known for having too much filler, but typically what filler does exist seems to be appreciated by the fandom, and this was no exception. 56.8% of respondents were happy for a little more fleshing out of Willy’s character (also learning that those kids were his!) and being able to sympathize more with him. 19.7% appreciated the more sympathetic addition until they remembered he was willing to throw Liberio under the bus for his plan. 13.5% are appreciative of any and all additional Willy content. A small amount didn’t like the filler and would rather have had MAPPA put their effort into other things. 

I liked it. Got to see more of his fine ass. lmao

Don't add extra 2d animation if You can't even handle what's in the manga

It would've been better to show before he was dead. Fleshing him out after the audience already know he's dead doesn't hit as much imo

Wasn't one of the scene itself, but then again I'm always interested in scenes I haven't seen yet.

I am so grateful, willy for is one of my favourites and omg we got to see his family and how is he a lovely papa 😭💕 I can't ask for more bless you MAPPA🤘

fuck them kids

Why should we feel bad for him? He tried to unite the world against Paradis. He got what he deserved.

this was a benefit. as manga readers, we had time to know willy. anime onlies will only ever have these 2-3 episodes and it was very humanizing

How is that possible that Tybur little kids in few seconds were louder nad more chaotic than THE WHOLE CITY DURING THE ATTACK??

It's very regrettable he left so many children fatherless because of what he chose to do. Really saddening..

I’d have rather seen more of the manga animated 

I knew why they added it, but I (personally) think willy is crud. Not mad it's there tho!

He did his duty as a Tybur to the very end. Honestly I wish he could have lived longer, he’s a really compelling and interesting character.

I feel like some viewers have carelessly misunderstood Willy because of that scene in the carriage. They're like 'wow, he really hates and shames his own people huh?' but at the beginning of the episode we all saw his abundance of children. Would it not have been extremely contradictory if he had truly wanted the extinction of all Eldians and then at the same time did the complete opposite by mass-reproducing a small army of Eldian children? Maybe that's why that scene was added to the start of the episode, to keep people away from mischaracterising him. Unfortunately, this may have simply been missed or overlooked by some. 

they should had polish the damn episode instead of fillers.

Loved it! Mappa is killing it with the episode additions 

Reading the manga, I truly didn't even consider the possibility that these were Willy's children because he is so obviously a ~*bachelor*~. Like, it didn't even cross my mind that those children weren't his little nieces and nephews because he is suuuuch a Theater Gay. Nothing can change my mind.

Wait a minute, are these the kids in that ending slide from season 3?

IN THE ORIGINAL CHAPTER 101, MAGATH IS THE ONE WHO ADVOCATES FOR KILLING EREN INSTEAD OF EATING HIM (IN CONTRAST TO HIS SUBORDINATE KOSLOW) AND NOTES THAT “THE AGE OF TITANS IS OVER.” IN THE ADAPTATION, MAGATH INSTEAD ADVOCATES FOR EATING EREN, NOTING THAT KILLING HIM WOULD ONLY PROLONG THE PROBLEM. HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THE CHANGE? 305 Responses

A minor dialogue change didn’t seem to have much of an effect on nearly half of respondents, with 47.5% saying they’re indifferent to the change. 43.3% like the change much better, feeling that it works a lot better with future story developments and makes more sense. A handful didn’t care for the change and felt it tampered with Magath’s overall characterization. 

I think the change was logical and more consistent with the story, but I'm naturally skeptical of any AOT manga-to-anime change.

I forgot this.

It ovewrites the flaw of Magath's original plan. Even if I think its unfitting of him, it makes sense.

I'm not sure what I feel about it. Kinda like how they added Falco having a dream back in episode 1. For now, let's just see.

I suppose the new change is a little contradictory because Magath dislikes Marley’s reliance on Titan power and rather just wishes th ey had prowess in other ways. 

Realistically eating him makes more sense for them to eat Eren so they gain control of the Founder but I think Magath accepting the age of Titans is now done for is more in character.

It obviously makes more sense logistically, but I think it's important for Magath to stand opposed to Marley national policy on this front, like, symbolically.

BETWEEN UDO AND ZOFIA, WHO WOULD YOU HAVE LIKED TO SURVIVE TO RECEIVE MORE STORY IN THE MANGA? 304 Responses

Though they are minor characters, the anime seems to have made some of the fandom a bit more fond of them. Still, 38.5% wouldn’t change anything about their fates, stating that they were necessary for Gabi to develop further as a character. 28% would rather neither of them died and are curious about how they would have developed if they lived to see another day. 23.7% say if they had to pick only one of them, it would be Udo due to his relevant commentary. A handful leaned toward Zofia, wishing they could have learned more about her. 

Udo. But at the same time Isayama can barely handle all the characters that are still alive so Udo probably wouldn't get a lot of screen time anyway.

Zofia. I didn't care about her while reading the manga, but in the anime she was more unique. I liked her stoic voice a lot. Zofia and Gabi should have switch the places. 

None cus i don't like Gabi

Both or neither. One would be just a third wheel to Gabi and Falco. I would love to see more of Udo and Zofia but I think their deaths were important

Udo and zofia's deaths hurt so bad. I didn't particularly care for either of them when reading the manga but i grown attracted to them in the anime. Udo's in particular breaks me. He was such a energic kid and he... got trampled to death. I'm just...

Neither. Both were serving an enemy nation and deserved what they got.

They weren't important to me so I don't really care

OPINION ON HOW THE ATTACK ON LIBERIO WAS PORTRAYED? 306 Responses

47.1% of respondents didn’t want to pick sides, stating that the attack was tragic in both mediums of the story-telling. 25.8% felt that it was much more devastating in animated form alongside the sound, music and voice acting. 18.3% felt a bigger impact while reading the manga. 

Both versions are devastating, but Manga hit harder bc I just was so confused and couldn't stop trying to figure out wtf Eren was doing and why. Watching it knowing what I know made it somehow more devastating and yet also more palatable (bc I have a better understanding.)

It was more devastating in the manga. Especially Udo's death scene 

I think I have to wait until the battle is over. So far it's alright.

Loved it

It gave me more emotions in the manga. 

They got what they deserved

It was far more devastating in trailer 🙄

WE FINALLY HAVE A NAME FOR LADY TYBUR - LARA! THOUGHTS? 307 Responses

One of the few characters left with no name after the large guidebook released a few years ago, Lady Tybur was all we could call her (aside from fan-given names). Now she has an official name! 26.7% found it neat that we finally got this official detail. 25.4% feel that now they can finally sleep at night. 17.6% are forever grateful for the name drop and hated waiting so long for it. 15.3% don’t care at all and 11.7% feel this confirms that Isayama is a fan of Tomb Raider.

Not what I was expecting and wasn't expecting her to get a name. At least people can stop calling her Emma or those other dumbass meme names.

Cool. Next up: names for the Blouse kids, right? Right right?

I'm not kidding when I say I literally jumped up and screeched "SHE HAS A NAME!!!"

she didn't need it. she was the mysterious lady t. 

Lara was more lucky than Traute, who got more panels in the manga but her name was mentioned only in the guidebook. 

Still died

WHICH SCENE FROM THE PREVIEW ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? 306 Responses

Of all the shots in the preview, 45.1% of respondents were most looking forward to Levi’s staged attack on Zeke. 17% favored seeing Mikasa assist Eren, 15% were most looking forward to seeing Falco emerge from the basement to see the carnage outside. 10.1% were stoked to see Pieck enter the battlefield. The episode has aired as of the publishing of these poll results - we hope these scenes lived up to the hype (even though we guessed one wrong lol).

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS ON THE EPISODE?

I enjoyed the episode very much. I felt that the CGI was handled fairly well given the time restraints. However, there were a few instances where it was a bit jarring like Eren eating Willy, Eren pulling the WHT's cord, Mikasa landing on Eren, and Jean climbing up on the roof. Also some of the CGI models looked a bit weird for the scouts. I'm hoping some of these issues can be improved on in the Blue-ray version. Overall, these issues were noticeable but didn't take too much away from my enjoyment of the episode.

As much as I don't like the CGI, episode was great.

Just that it was fantastic and I can't wait for the next one!

The music is top notch. I love it. Especially the new version of XL TT near the end

After re-visiting the trailer we got for this season, it's just....saddening. Everyone was wondering how Mappa was gonna animate AoT and after seeing that trailer, all that effort by the animators, I thought "it's in good hands!". Now that we're getting the episodes and it's underwhelming. I don't blame the Mappa animators at all and cgi is unavoidable at some moments. But whoever are the higher ups who said "animate this in the shortest amount of time" ARE the assholes. It's so upsetting for this anime and the workers of it to be brought down like this :'(

Continuing to enjoy the pictures on the page come to life in the anime.

It was pretty amazing, I was waiting for so long to see this part animated! Aaand I'm so happy I got to see again the scouts! (expecially Connie, my personal fav)

Erwin should had lived instead of Armin, so Erwin can nuke Marley dropping from a blimp

I really liked it! I don't understand all the critics about the animation. It looks really neat and smooth

the SC backlit in that final scene was sickkkkk

It was different from the manga, but all the differences just improved the storytelling and fleshed out the people in Marley. Well done, MAPPA!

aaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

I’m just grateful Mappa actually gives a shit about adapting the story properly. That alone makes this season a 9/10 for me cause that’s rare to see in the anime industry these days.

THE OST WAS FIRE

Gabi's voice acting was amazing this episode ! Also, it feels good to hear the ODM gear sound effect again. The CGI didn't keep me from enjoying the fight, we got awesome camera movements and good choreography, I'm very hopeful for next episode ! Also best boy Onyankopon might appear soon ?

I seriously do not know why people are complaining. It was amazing! Can't wait for the next episodes, it's going to be action-packed and intense!

I don't know if I liked the episode or not. I usually prefer manga so even episodes I like I prefer their manga versions but there is something in off with the episode and usually, Titans fight are more excited but this one Nah it was not at all. War hammer was great in animation it served a better understanding of its powers but the fight, in general, was like boring?? idk maybe because I am a manga reader so the titan power/character's introduction was not as thrilling as they were when I've read the chapters. anyways, there is still more of the attack on liberio in the next episode so I'll give my final thought when we conclude the arc

I really enjoyed and the CGI doesn't bother me.

I think the reason Attack Titan looks a bit off is it looks a bit thinner! Warhammer looks amazing because it's a true copy of the manga. If Attack Titan was a bit buff, I think nobody would have that much of a problem. Overall the chapter is amazing!

as much as i adored everything else i must admit... what is wrong with the character design? what happened to everyone's jaws?? i think jean, mikasa and pieck were the worst drawn. in the manga, they look flawless. 

I just hope we would get actual discussions in the sub instead of circle jerking or bitching about the cgi/ost etc.

The soundtrack was epic as hell

Mappa is doing a good job, with the little time they had. But sadly, they had the capacity to do way better and I will always regret this situation. And the Jojo memes on Mikasa are on point: in that specific panel, she looks ugly and unlike her cute face in the manga. For the rest of the episode, she's well portrayed

I think this episode is a taste of what is to come. It’s one thing to read still, silent pictures of complete devastation, and it’s another thing to hear the explosions, the screaming and crying. Seeing the blood painted red instead of black and white. When Eren rumbles the world, more people will realize how evil it is, how completely irredeemable. Less people will be #teameren once they get to see it in the anime. I can’t wait to see what MAPPA has in store.

So many nice details in the battle that weren’t there in the manga, the war hammer animation was particularly great

I feel bad complaining, but this was the first episode of the season that has disappointed me at all. Every other episode I feel has elevated the manga. I don't want (and never expected) to be that person, but the CGI, especially on the humans (WHY??) was so awkward it was distracting. We also lost a little bit of expressiveness from Eren, which is kind of a big deal when there's so little from him to begin with. 

Soundtrack was lit!!!!

It is what it is. But after I finished the episode I went back to watch the trailer and got sad that the season just isn't going to look like that. It's not bad by any means and I understand that these are people, not robots working on this with an extremely tight schedule. This entitled fanbase is super embarrassing with it's behavior and harassment of the people working on it. I kind of hope the final arc doesn't get animated now because these people don't deserve it. 

Awesome! I was a bit distracted how the pacing was, cutting a bit weirdly from one episode to another, but I really enjoyed it!

That closeup of Eren's Titan after he nom'd Willy is NUTS. 

It was emotionless and almost boring. The sound director keeps fucking up big time. I didnt feel anything close to the hype I felt watching the Armored/Colossal reveal animated. There were no exciting goosebumps, or tears. Nothing. Also the CGI was terrible. There were good things, but I expected much more for suck a climatic episode

It was a good episode after all, graphic was ok but i think that if they continued with the same titan 2d animation of first episodes and maybe changed a bit some sound it would have been waaay better. Still a good episode imho

The episode was very average. I'm not trying to complain, I know that the anime is mostly for anime-onlines, while we have a manga, but I expected better. I imagined the titan fight to be smooth, but in reality both - WHT and AT - moved like two, fat elephants. In the manga I felt that WHT was fast like a wind. In the anime Lara was slow, she looked like she had a hard time to even hold her hammer. The moment between Eren and Mikasa was disappointing. In the anime when Mikasa was upset about Eren's actions, he was completely unfeeling, while in the manga we see him being full of emotions and almost crying. I know he will turn into a cold bastard but MAPPA shouldn't dehumanize Eren so much now. I was surprised by Connie's glow up. MAPPA has done better job with him. In the manga he still looks like a kid, while MAPPA made him more mature-looking and masculine. That's good for underrated Connie. I'm grateful for the scene between Willy and his children. This way he feels more sympathetic and isn't ""just a guy who declared a war and was eaten by Eren"". 

I really like how the warriors and Marleyans seem to be getting a somewhat equal amount of screen time as the scouts have gotten after they've come into the picture. I hope this helps to make clear for the anime-onlies that understanding the experiences, emotions and the development of the other side is just as important as understanding those of the scouts/Paradis.

WHERE DO YOU PRIMARILY DISCUSS THE SERIES? 279 Responses

Thank you again to everyone who participated!

#snk poll #snk polls #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #snk #aot #snk s4

[guinevere-beck-fanboy]

Once Upon A Time Rant

Ok so I’m going to just have a rant about the ABC show that is Once Upon A Time. It had the potiential to be great but it falls very short.. In this post I will explain my issues with this show.

1. Captain Hook aka Killian Jones as a character

Just…. this guy in general. I find him just really unlikeable… I feel like he’s such a bland character and outside of the protagonist Emma Swan there isn’t much to him. In the first two seasons he was much bigger as a character but after awhile I feel like it was just all about Emma for him. And as for their actual relationship itself I just find it so… nauseating. I can’t put my finger on why but I really hated their dynamic.

In season 7 they have a new version of Hook (”Nook” they call him meaning “New Hook”) and ngl he was a bit more tolerable.. But still I had issues with the character. To give credit where it is due though he had a plotline with his daughter Alice that was much more watchable than Captain Swan (the relationship between him and Emma) and actually had other plotlines as well.

2. The toxicity of Killian and Captain Swan

So my next issue is also about Killian. I just really find him to be a really problematic character in addition to a badly written one.

Killian has murdered as far as we know 4 people, attempted to murder 2 people and raped seemingly more than one woman (Emma convinces Killian she is trying to have sex with him by flirting to which Killian comments “if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying to get me drunk, which is usually my tactic”, getting someone drunk so you can have sex with them is rape). He’s a sketchy pirate and at one point does severe psychological damage to Belle (who is based on the character of the same name in Beauty and the Beast) by erasing her lifetime of memories. And he homewrecks a marriage and runs away with the wife, thus taking her away from her son. Just overall really scummy.

Now this by itself doesn’t make him a problematic character in my opinion. It makes him a bad guy, but a character being a bad person isn’t automatically a problematic character. Especially considering at the time Killian commits these acts he is portrayed as a villain so naturally all these acts are condemned by the narrative.

Here’s where it gets a bit off though…. They give him a redemption arc. That by itself isn’t the problem nececarily, but the way in which his redemption arc is written I just find to be very weak.

Killian as Captain Hook spends a lot of time in Neverland. In Neverland as we all know one doesn’t age. So because of that Killian is actually hundreds of years old and yet still looks like a young man. Killian’s redemption arc comes during his time being hundreds of years old…. So here’s the thing. If it takes someone a couple of centuries to no longer be a murderous, raping pirate… I mean… Is that really saying much? Most people only get the first about 80 - 100 years of their life and then thats it. Within those years Killian was murdering, raping and pirating people. If Killian’s life needs to be extended way past the natural limit for him to grow up and become a better person then that means had he lived a natural life like the rest of us than he wouldn’t have changed. He would have been the same old bastard till the end. Again if his life had to be that long for him to change, I don’t really think much credit is due.

Even as a redeemed villain Killian still manages to be a problematic character. He falls in love with Emma Swan and they go out with one another. In the sixth season an obstacle in their relationship appears: it turns out the one who murdered Emma’s father’s father was Killian. So Emma’s father, Prince Charming as a child lost his father and grew up fatherless because of Killian. Not only does Emma not get angry about this like at all (she gets angry that he tried to keep it a secret from her but not that he actually did it) but Charming is expected to just forgive him and get it over with. Later on Emma, Hook, Charming and Emma’s mother Snow White are looking for a place to hold Emma and Hook’s upcoming wedding (marrying the person who ruined your father’s childhood… I mean is it just me or is this kind of messed up?) Charming disses every venue much to Snow’s annoyance. She takes Charming aside and asks him what the hell is going on. Charming claims he doesn’t like that they are “rushing into this” and Snow just responds “is this about Hook? if so that ship has sailed, deal with it”… What? He’s not allowed to be mad that his daughter is marrying the guy that MURDERED HIS FATHER?! What the hell is this?!

So Emma and Hook get married live alongside Snow and Charming all happily ever after. This. Is. Insane.

3. Rumplestilstkin 

This character much like Killian is extremely toxic. He murders his ex wife in cold blood, sends her to be eternally tormented in the “River of Lost Souls” and enables an entire town to nearly be destroyed and all citizens in it to die. There’s so much more to that list but we’ll stop there for now. 

Like Killian Rumple has a redemption arc, AFTER HUNDREDS OF YEARS OF BEING ALIVE. If Rumple had just lived a naturally long life he’d have died as someone who had little to no remorse for these things. If he needs his life to be heavily extended to change into a better man, did he really change into a better man?

4. Rumbelle

Rumplestilstkin takes the role of the Beast from Beauty and the Beast in Once Upon A Time. So naturally Belle is his love interest and he hers. And oh boy, their dynamic is like the nightmare version of Beauty and the Beast. 

How do they meet? Rumple kidnaps Belle and makes her his slave. Yup. 

She kisses him so he aggressively grabs her, shakes her and throws her in a cell. He then releases her from captivity to avoid being in a relationship with her. 

Despite all this, they get together and their relationship (dubbed “Rumbelle” by fans) is portrayed as something positive... Like Rumple and Belle are supposed to be together.

In the second season Rumple tries to prevent Belle from reuniting with her father after years of seperation (not to mention they were seperated in the first place because of Rumple but whatever) by taking down missing posters she put up of him. Belle never finds out about this and Rumple keeps it secret. 

Oh in the fourth season Rumple has everyone in the show’s memories erased and placed into a false alternate dimension with new false memories and identities. Including Belle, who at the time had found love with another character named Will Scarlett. He makes Belle in love with him again in this new dimension. This is just... Really unsettling to me, I don’t like it. 

5. Swan Queen

Ok this isn’t so much about the show but rather a fanon ship called Swan Queen. A ship between Emma Swan and Regina Mills a major villain in the first three seasons who redeems herself in the fourth. This is one of the most popular ships in the fanbase and I just don’t like it. 

Regina seperated Emma from her parents when she was a baby, and she grew up an orphan in foster care living a miserable childhood. She tries to murder her mother multiple times and actually tries to kill Emma herself at one point... All this just makes me really against the idea of this relationship...

6. Captain Swan and Neal

Ok again this one is more about the Once Upon A Time fanbase. There is a character in the show named Baelfire, who changes his name to Neal Cassidy. Neal ends up being a love interest to Emma and admitedly he lets her go to jail for a crime he committed in the end... However he was convinced by August Booth, another character that unless he did so Storybrooke, the town once upon a time is set in, would remain under a horrific curse that kept them all misrable and living with fake identities would never be broken. So I kinda get why he did that. Captain Swan shippers always try to shame Neal for that and act like Killian is the better man for Emma because of it, which I don’t like.

What gets me annoyed more though is that the Captain Swan shippers and Killian fans are always accusing Neal of statutory raping Emma to prop up Killian as the better person. 

This annoys me just because of the hypocrisy. Killian literally says he gets women drunk to have sex with them, and yet shame Neal for apparently being a rapist? Neal may have statutory raped Emma idk I’ve not heard the reasons people suggest he is, and if he is then yeah fuck Neal, but still Killian fans can’t really complain on that part. 

#anti once upon a time #anti ouat #anti killian #anti killian jones #anti hook #anti captain swan #anti cs #anti rumple #anti rumbelle #anti swan queen

[mermaider00]

Kiss the Girl || A Ventor Story

(Inspired by this gif) 

From the banks of the lake, an annoyed pair of yellow feline eyes watched closely through tall wet grass. The moon was out and the stars blinked above and the only sounds were the drifting of the water and the creatures of the night, but the fact that there wasn’t also lively conversation joining those sounds was a very annoying thing, indeed. Behind him, his tail swished and those yellow eyes narrowed. 

His purple princely kitten thought he could confine him to the temporary home on this wild planet, but Kova could always find a way out to check on him. His boy was motherless and practically fatherless, and Kova decided it was time for Lotor to no longer be without a mate as well. The green woman with antenna chosen as his aide was also perfect to be that mate. 

His kitten was a fool not to see how she wanted him. 

There they were, Kova thought, his unblinking eyes locked on them through the tall grass at the edge of the lake. In a small simple boat because the green woman had talked him into a little ride to help ease the stresses of their very busy day before they would head off to bed, alone. The cat wouldn’t place not one of his paws into the water so he could swim for a better look, but Kova could see them perfectly in the dark with his superior eyesight. His kitten, usually very attractive to females, was simply glancing at their surroundings as if studying like a scholar. The sky, the water, the foliage around them, what night creatures he could spot that would swim or fly on by, he wanted to see it all. 

His kitten was looking at everything but the lovely woman literally sitting right in front of him. 

Lady Ven’tar was the opposite, Kova saw. So much beauty around her... and she only wanted to keep her eyes on the prince. 

Silly kitten, Kova thought, rolling his eyes a bit. He would have to make things better for Lotor again. But Kova also knew that Lotor was afraid at this point in his life to allow anyone close to him, especially in these stressful times as Emperor Zarkon awaited the quintessence his son would take from this planet. 

Kova knew his kitten desired the green woman, so the cat decided to give him what he wanted. What they both wanted. 

He lifted himself from his crouching position along the banks, kept his long body low as if hunting for a small creature, and walked the perimeter of the lake while keeping his focused gaze on the boat in the water. The green woman was an empath, but Kova’s own powers given to him by quintessence were just as great. Reaching out to her, he helped tickle her susceptible mind with courage to talk to Lotor. 

“What do you like, liege?” Ven’tar suddenly said, surprised by the sound of her own voice. She felt a presence and even looked to the banks, but saw nothing there. 

Lotor looked to her, one white brow lifting. “What do I... like?” 

“Yes.” With one wave of her hand, Ven’tar used her power of manipulating water to create a current underneath their boat. Neither of them had to row or steer, but her power kept them moving along the surface. “What do you like doing with your time? When you’re not burdened by your princely duties or attempting to save my planet from destruction.” 

“I will save your planet from destruction.” 

Ven smiled at him. So close to the water, her eyes held the faintest glow. “I believe you. But when you aren’t doing such things, what do you enjoy? I feel as if I forced you into this boat. My intention wasn’t to make you uncomfortable, I assure you.” 

“I wasn’t uncomfortable,” he told her, his back straight and hands in his lap. “I’ve never been in a boat before.” 

“No?” She perked up, her antenna twitching a bit in excitement at his confession. “I suppose that makes sense. The Galra are a star-faring race, after all.” 

“I have been in numerous designs of ships meant for space travel and land vehicles... but never a small boat.” And how small it was, Lotor thought, glancing at the water of the lake they drifted upon. One small bump and they might tip over, which would be disastrous, and possibly even dangerous. His blue eyes flicked back to her. “I enjoy reading when I have free time.” 

Ven’tar wore a simple long white dress with sleeveless straps and her usual cape over it. The white of her dress and green of her skin brought out the bright red of her eyes. “What about eating? I love to eat.” 

Lotor chuckled. “I’ve noticed. And it certainly doesn’t show on your slender frame. I eat when I must for nourishment and energy.” 

“Dancing?” 

“Only at banquets, when I’m forced to entertain those high in our ranks.” 

“Singing?” 

Lotor only stared at her and simply answered, “No.” 

Ven sighed softly, and glanced away to look at a passing tree growing from underneath the water of the lake. 

From the shore, Kova scrunched up his little nose. His kitten was dedicated and noble and driven to succeed, but he had lost himself to survival. An understandable thing, Kova knew, but Lotor was not allowing himself to enjoy anything around him, even a romantic boat ride with a lovely woman who desired him tremendously. 

Perhaps it wasn’t romantic enough, the cat mused. 

Up in a nearby tree, Kova spotted a flock of nighttime song birds, and rushed to climb the trunk with his claws swiftly before either his kitten or the green woman could spot him since they weren’t looking at each other. Balancing on the branches, he batted out one paw, his yellow eyes flashed as he sent out some quintessence stored inside him. 

The birds began to sing, some even flying over to other trees to surround the pair in the boat with a soft soothing song. Kova glanced down below from the branches as the boat glided under him. 

Ven drifted her fingertips through the water. “I like to swim,” she said softly. Her eyes then found the trees when she heard the birds begin to sing. “You might like swimming. I like to play with the lilypogs and feel the warm water on my skin.” 

Kova didn’t miss the way his kitten’s eyes fell to the green skin of her neck in longing. “I’m afraid I don’t know how to swim,” Lotor said to her. 

Her gaze found his, and for some reason she thought this new fact about him incredibly charming. She grinned. “No wonder you were apprehensive to a boat ride.” 

He lifted a shoulder. “I’ve never been given the opportunity to learn, unfortunately. I may only stand on the shore, but I enjoy watching you swim when we take a moment to rest.” 

The long dark lashes over her eyes batted some. A flirtatious gesture, Kova knew as he watched from the branches above. “I could teach you, if you’d like... Lotor.” 

He seemed to perk up at the mere suggestion. To be able to swim would come in handy, should he need such a skill. He was barely aware that she’d called him by his given name and not a title. “Could you?” 

Ven’tar beamed. “Oh yes! I would love to.” 

She was happy, so very happy, Kova saw. And with one click, she unhooked the latch and brushed the cape from her shoulders to bare them to him. Another flirtatious gesture. She was desperate to show him she was interested, and maybe seeing more of her skin would do it. 

Kova was quick to capitalize on this new development, and jumped from the overhanging branches onto a nearby tiny island sitting in the middle of the lake after they drifted on by. On the island grew light blue flowers, and with the gentle breeze, he swatted at them when the timing was right so that their petals would break off and be picked up within the wind. The breeze carried the petals to the water, and surrounded the boat in color. 

The song birds continued to sing around them. 

“I’m sure you would be an outstanding teacher, Ven’tar,” Lotor said. 

Not only was the water suddenly filled with flowers, but a few petals had dropped into their boat as well. Ven hardly saw them, her gaze was only for him. She even scooted forward a little to be closer to him. “Are you afraid?” she asked softly. 

A beam of bright moonlight reflected in her gaze. “No,” he answered, not minding their new closeness. “Should I be?” 

Ven shook her head, and her eyes glanced down at his mouth before returning to his blue hues again. “I would never let you drown.” 

Kova’s long blue ears twitched as he watched from the small island and anticipation bubbled inside him. They were so close, soon their mouths would meet and then they could finally mate. All this work would mean something and then he could take a nap and know his kitten would have a good night with the woman he desired and felt safe with. 

Ven’s eyelids lowered some as she stared at him, her lips puckered up for a kiss. She even leaned closer so he could meet her halfway. 

Nerves or fear or something else grabbed hold of Lotor, and with a slight frown, he pulled back and glanced away. 

Kova, even more annoyed than before, growled softly at his kitten for his foolishness. 

Ven’tar looked like she wanted to groan in disappointment, but only eased away to give him back his space as she continued to move the boat with her ability. On another soft sigh, she set her chin in her hand. 

What did a cat have to do around here to get these two buffoons to kiss? He’d already provided some very romantic atmosphere for them to spice up their boat ride on a lovely twinkling lake on the most beautiful planet he and his kitten had ever set foot on. Why wouldn’t he kiss her when her lips were puckered up and ready to receive his own? Why wouldn’t she just tell him how she felt? The woman was an empath, surely she knew how he felt in return? Why were they being silly and wasting time? Kova lifted himself high on his legs, swished his tail, dug his claws into the earth under him. He needed more, and leapt from the small island back to shore. His back paw flicked out when it slightly touched some of the disgustingly wet water. 

“Do you really mean that?” 

Ven blinked, then realized of course Lotor was speaking to her because they were the only ones around. “Really mean what?” she asked. 

He was quiet for a moment before he decided to answer instead of backtrack. With a slight swallow in his throat, he finally uttered, “When you said you would... never let me drown?” 

She drew her brows together as she pondered over his question. Kova, as he prowled the banks of the lake, knew she had to be smart and astute enough to know the meaning behind his words. She must know that he was asking her because he’d been drowning for a long time, with no one to grab him and pull him from the water where he could not breathe. That he was slowly suffocating in the dark and quiet and lonely depths. 

Kova then stopped, turned his head and peered at her through the grass. 

He watched as Ven took his kitten’s hand, held it gently in her own. 

“I mean it,” she told him softly, her lashes batting again. “I would do anything I could to save you. I... would do anything for you, Lotor.” 

Kova started purring when he saw Lotor grip her hand back, hold on tightly. His expression was intense as he stared at the green woman, as if nothing else around them mattered. 

Like if he blinked then she would vanish, and he would be left to drown. 

“Ven’tar,” Lotor said almost in a whisper. She was close to him again, and this time he wouldn’t back away. “I believe you.” 

Swift on his four paws, Kova spotted the perfect addition, and leapt into a nearby cluster of glow bugs to send them flying into the air. With the song birds singing and the wind and water carrying flowers and little twinkling lights of glow bugs blinking around them, Kova crouched down low, watched carefully. This is it, he thought. Please let this be it, he didn’t know what to do for them next. 

With her hand clutched in his, Lotor stared into her eyes now glittering with the light of glow bugs. He leaned forward when he watched those pretty eyes begin to close, when those pretty lips puckered up again. He couldn't seem to resist her now. Something about her, something about where they were, just the two of them. He closed his eyes, went for her mouth waiting for him. He could almost taste her already... 

The boat was still moving from the currents she was still controlling. Kova braced in excitement when their lips lightly touched. 

None of them saw the boulder jutting out from underneath the lake. And with Ven so distracted... 

Before they could properly kiss, the boat crashed into the boulder and flipped it over, flinging them both right into the water on a yelp. 

Oh no. 

Fear and worry had Kova standing up, his yellow eyes frantically searching the surface of the water and as far underneath it as he could see in the dark. The glow bugs flew away, the song birds did too, and the lake’s surface that had been nicely decorated with blue flowers was now very disturbed. Kova couldn’t swim, neither could his kitten. He paced back and forth in intense concern at the edge of the water as his little heart hammered inside him, desperate to see Lotor come up for air. 

He meowed in worry. Paced some more. Meowed again, hoping someone would come to help. 

Anxious now, he waited. 

Beneath the surface, the lake was deep and warm and dark. The Galra were solid beings and instantly Lotor felt like he was sinking to the floor of the lake, however far away it actually was. His armor and his boots weren’t helping him attempt to paw to the surface. His hair was in his eyes, and the only small bit of light he could manage to see was the dot of the pale moon. 

Of course this would be his death, he thought, feeling his lungs burn for air. Just as he makes the decision to learn to swim, he drowns. 

Of course he would die by drowning right before he kisses the one woman he’s been longing to kiss. 

Lotor felt a rush of water then, a quick current that sped over him, and a zip of white and green. When the floating tendrils of his hair moved away from his eyes, he saw Ven’tar coming for him. The white of her dress billowed around her like water wings, her long legs and little claw feet moving effortlessly as if she were flying in the air. Her eyes, somehow both frantic and relieved, glowed yellow in the water as she swam to him. The tips of her antenna gleamed too, probably reaching out for the emotional state of him. 

Swimming appeared to be as easy for her as walking upon the land. 

They reached out for each other at the same time. Ven grabbed him under his arms, instantly began kicking her claw feet towards the surface with large and powerful strokes to get him back to the air as quickly as she could. It didn’t matter where they breached the surface, only that they got there so he could fill his lungs with oxygen. 

Ven pushed him up first. Lotor sucked in as much air as he could on a great and loud gasp. His drenched hair was in his eyes and his claws instantly reached up, sinking into the wood of the capsized boat that hovered over them like a shelter so he wouldn’t sink again. 

“Are you okay?” Ven asked him, needing only her long legs to keep her above the surface, unlike him. As he continued to take deep breaths, she pushed his wet hair from his face, smoothing it all back. “You’re all right. Just breathe.” 

“You saved me,” he sighed, tightening his hold on the wood above him. If it weren’t for the boat over them like a dome, she would need to hold him up herself. 

“I told you I wouldn’t let you drown. And this wasn’t a very ideal way to begin swimming lessons, but look down at my legs. Just kick back and forth, back and forth.” 

Lotor copied her movements, though his legs didn’t yet look as graceful as hers in the water. The skirt of her white dress floated behind her like ghostly tendrils. 

“You’re okay,” she told him, smiling brightly. She could sense the pounding of his heart. “You’ll live to fight another day, my prince.” 

“Thanks to you, Ven’tar.” 

She set her hands on his shoulders, felt the constricting muscles there as he held himself up by the overturned boat. They just floated in the water like that, hidden under a dome of wood. “Perhaps we should begin those lessons tomorrow in the shallow pools back at home. I don’t mind rescuing you, of course, but in case I’m no longer with you, I couldn’t bear it if you sunk again.” 

They were so close, closer than when they sat in the boat. Mere inches apart and their legs practically tangled together in the lake. He’d almost drowned and would have had it not been for her. Lotor couldn’t stop staring at her, the only woman to save him because she couldn’t bear it if he sunk. 

He would sink without her, he realized then. 

His arms may not be able to hold her at the moment, but nothing would stop him now. So slowly he leaned in, slow enough that Ven knew he would kiss her. With her arms wrapping around his neck now, she met his lips with her own. 

Now her heart was pounding too, and it was a marvelous sensation. 

They both tasted like the fresh water of the lake, but also something hot and needy and desirable. It wasn’t the most romantic first kiss, or maybe it was the most romantic one either would ever have. And it was perfect, she thought as he kissed her. They may be half soaked under a useless boat and one of them unable to swim to shore by himself and her white dress may be clinging to the willowy curves of her body, but it was the most perfect moment she’d been waiting patiently for. 

Lotor deepened the kiss, forgot momentarily where he was. His instincts told him to hold her the way she was holding him, so he attempted to wrap his arms around her waist, forgetting completely he’d been holding onto the boat. 

Before he could sink again, his quick reflexes instantly wrapped around her middle in panic, groaning as his cheek now pressed against her drenched breasts. Ven had grabbed the boat in record time to keep them both up, and laughed at his sweet attempt to hold her. He held onto her middle as if his life depended on it, not caring one side of his face was right against an intimate part of her body. 

Ven only kissed the top of his head. “Let’s get you out of this lake and back on dry land where you belong.” 

On the banks, Kova kept meowing, even managed to get two front paws into the water in worry for his kitten, though the sensation was awful. Quickly he stopped when he saw two heads pop out of the surface from beneath the capsized boat, slowly making their way to the shore closest to them. Great relief filled him when he saw Lotor was alive and well and not a drowned corpse, being held and guided by the green woman who was getting them to land. Kova ducked low again, watched when their feet were able to touch the ground and Lotor took over to help her instead. Safe and sound and out of the water now, the two of them wrung out their soaked clothes, Ven’tar using her power to rid them of as much water as she could. She even helped dry his long hair. 

Something happened, Kova decided as he watched the two touch each other tenderly. Something under the boat maybe, after the green woman had saved his kitten from drowning. 

The woman then reached up to hold one of Lotor’s cheeks, and softly pecked his lips. 

Kova’s tail swished in glee and success. 

Apparently they hadn’t needed a romantic atmosphere or any kind of encouragement from a cat. Maybe it was just the mere thought of being without the other that drove them to confess their feelings, and act on them. 

It’s about time, Kova thought. 

But even though his kitten was safe and alive, Kova still kept his distance and silently followed them back to the home they all shared while stationed on this planet. Their hands were intertwined the entire way, he saw, Lotor’s claws locked with Ven’tar’s own long and nimble fingers. His kitten accompanied her to her room when they finally entered their home, his hand still holding hers as they said goodnight. 

Peeking around the corner in the dark hallway, Kova watched them kiss again, and couldn’t hear whatever it was Ven’tar whispered to him. With a knowing and beautiful smile, Ven opened her doors behind her, glided inside her room with one hand beckoning him. 

Enchanted by her, Lotor followed her inside and closed the doors behind them. 

Kova breathed out a sigh and finally sat to lick his paws. With great pride, he decided to take all the credit for giving his kitten a very memorable night with the woman he’d longed for. 

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Thanks for reading, and reblogs are appreciated <3

#lotor #ven'tar #ventor #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender

[petersmparker]

Welcome Home pt 5 (Peter Parker x Reader)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You finally understand why Peter blames himself for the death of Tony Stark. All you can do to help your best friend now is your best.

Word Count: 1540

A/N: wow madeline updates two different series in one night, who is she?? just kidding, ya bitch escaped the woods so I had to post both. my feet are sunburned. don’t forget that I have a tag list if any of y’all are interested in being added!!

INTRO PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6 EPILOGUE

Pepper and Happy had left shortly after inadvertently answering the question you'd been asking since the first night Peter had come to your room. Tony Stark had died reversing the Snap. That much had been revealed over the news. You had been considering the possibility that Peter had made a mistake out there, or that Tony had died protecting Peter in the battle.

But it hadn't been even close to that. Peter had been dusted along with half of existence. Later, he had returned. What had happened between those events was that Tony had committed to bringing Peter, specifically, back. To saving Peter. He had succeeded, but he'd also died in the process. Peter had learned about Tony's motivations and blamed himself for his death. For his wife, now widowed, and his daughter, now fatherless.

So very much like Peter, to blame himself for something like this. To not recognize that he is not a monster for having been loved so dearly. Unable to realize that no one else sees fault in him for the actions that Tony had taken.

Sleep is harder to come by that night. Peter leaves later than usual for his patrol, having decided that he wants to try to work off some of his feelings after a few hours of being emotional. It's with some measure of disappointment that you take notice of his choice of suit as you enter his room. The Iron Spider was assembling itself over his body as usual, and the suitcase containing the White Spider had been left, sealed, on the bottom bunk of his bed. The letter, which he'd finally relinquished from his grip, was sitting unopened on top of it.

You wave him off as he exits through the window and take to going through his dresser drawers for a set of sleepwear for him. It's with quite a bit of confidence that you guess Peter wouldn't be bothering to enter through the front door tonight.

After throwing a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants over your shoulder, you turn to leave. Somehow, you can't bring yourself to do it. Standing in the doorway, looking out, you think hard about the letter. You mull over the scratchy black writing that adorns its front, probably in Tony Stark's handwriting. Why hadn't Peter opened it? You cross the room and gingerly pick it up, hyper aware of its value. There it was, the single word on the front: Pete.

While you consider the possibility that it'd be best left on top of the case, you ultimately decide to take it back to your apartment. At this point, it's clear that Peter will likely want you present while he reads it, even if he chooses not to share the contents of it. He hadn't expanded further on the information Happy had given earlier, either, but he had been open about his feelings toward them, and that in itself was an indicator of his progress over the past month.

Aunt May, still very much emotional over the events of that afternoon, is on the phone with Ned's mother. Despite being in the middle of a teary conversation, she pulls the phone from her ear and calls out her usual, See you later, sweetie, when you pass her to leave. You smile and wave, then return to your apartment across the hall to attempt to keep busy until Peter arrives.

After around forty-five minutes of absentmindedly staring at the same page of your book, two hours spent drifting off while attempting to watch a movie, and a long dinner with your parents in which the conversation can't seem to hold your attention, you get a call from MJ. You answer, though you're not entirely sure you'll be all that chatty at the current moment.

Luckily, you manage to hold a decent conversation, and it's nice to hear from her. She'd been a little bit MIA for a while, since her and her dad had decided to move out of their complex and into her grandparents' house in the suburbs in order to better take care of them. The Snap had dusted both her and her father, but her grandparents had been left to continue aging. After five years, they were beginning to struggle to live alone, and the adjustment period for her family had been a bit long during the move-in.

Your conversation lasts even longer than you'd expected, especially considering MJ's inclination toward pretty straightforward conversation, and by the time you're running out of ways to explain how Peter is doing without outright dishing out his business, the window in your bedroom slides open.

"Oh! Hey, MJ, I gotta go- Yeah, Peter's here now- No problem, I'll let him know. I'll talk to you later. Bye."

Peter acknowledges with a glance that you're on the phone as he climbs through the window. He immediately notices his sleepwear sitting on top of the dresser by the window and starts getting ready for bed. Despite his original concerns about being in his underwear while alone in your room, he doesn't seem to care anymore. The Iron Spider suit detracts itself from his body, leaving him in his boxers. Without that much awkwardness, he slips on his sweatpants and tugs the t-shirt over his head. You do your absolute best not to stare him down like a creep while he does this, even though the fairy lights strung up in that part of the room make it very easy to see.

"Thanks," he says, in regard to the pj's, and looks down as he ties the drawstring of his pants.

"No problem," you respond, setting your phone down on the end table next to the letter, which you haven't touched since you put it down hours ago, "MJ says that if you don't call her this week, she'll track your ass down."

Peter huffs. "Like she could catch me."

"That isn't fair. She doesn't know you can cross New York City in ten minutes flat. You'll call?"

"Yeah, of course I'll call. "

"Thank you," you sing-song back, satisfied with his answer.

He doesn't respond, too preoccupied as he climbs over the end of the bedframe and crawls up from the foot of the bed. You're still half sitting up against the backboard so it would be difficult to cling to you from the side, but he comes up between your legs and wraps his arms around your middle instead. He lays down on you about as comfortably as if you were part of the mattress. Blessedly, this occurs without any conversation about it, which is fine because not a single part of you wants to complain about it, and you don't know how you'd express that without sounding weird.

His face is turned toward the end table when he settles, and you know his gaze lands on the letter that's all but being spotlighted by the only lamp currently lit in the room. Despite this, it's a long time before he says anything. He doesn't reach for it either. You wait out his silence by brushing your hand through the short hair at the back of his head.

Eventually, he says, rather simply, "He wrote that."

"He did," you agree. After a moment, you ask, "Should I not have brought it over here?"

Peter heaves a great sigh and wraps his arms around you a bit tighter. "Honestly? If you hadn't, I would have. Eventually."

"Are you going to read it?" You question gently after a few more moments, not wanting to push the matter.

"I don't know. I don't think I'm ready for that yet."

"You don't have to then," you assure, pushing some stray hairs away from his eyes, "How about we go to sleep instead?"

He sighs again. "Don't think I can. Not after everything that happened today. I think I could be feeling a hell of a lot worse right now, but I've got a lot on my mind. Can we put on a movie? Or some music? Just kinda. . . hang out?"

You're two hours deep into a playlist of soft music and in the middle of your upteenth game of rummy when Peter dozes off with his head propped up on his hand. It's a bit of a process to collect all the cards and move him into a more comfortable position without waking him up. It's just past three in the morning, hours past when you'd normally have been lights out. You're exhausted, but even then you know that you're better off than Peter is right now. That makes it hard to mind.

You flick off the lamp, taking the spotlight off Tony's letter, and pull the blankets up over the both of you. Since Peter typically is the one to initiate the contact, you're not entirely sure that you should try anything. You end up facing away from him on your side out of concern that you'll get clingy in your sleep if you face toward him. This ends up being unnecessary, since he throws his arm around you almost immediately and shifts closer in his sleep.

It has you holding your breath, but even so, it's all too easy to fall asleep after such a long day.

Tag list

@undiadeestos @moonstruckholland @deathofthethrones @souvenirsvisuels

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfic #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #peter parker series #peter parker x reader #peter parkerxreader #peter parker reader insert #peter parker self insert #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman fic #marvel fanfiction

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Dark Curse

Chapter 7: Glimpses of the Future Yet to Come

The Hovel was too much. Or maybe, without Bae to share it with, it wasn't enough. He couldn't be sure exactly what it was, but he knew that it wasn't right. After he'd returned to his village, back to his hometown with nothing but a hand and a spellbook to show for it, he began to see the town in a way he hadn't before. It was dying. He supposed he'd known that for a long time, but with Bae farther away than ever, he felt like he could see it clearly. Families that once lived around him were packing up and moving, some because their livelihood had gone away and others simply because they didn't want to associate with him. In town, the docks were growing dryer. The fish were migrating. People were panicking. And panic made ripe pickings for the Dark One. But he didn't want to be bothered by them, by their constant knocking and hounding and begging for deals he couldn't care less for. He wanted his son. And looking around the Hovel, he was constantly reminded of his precious boy! He was reminded of the times they'd shared, the memories they'd made, even his aunt's house reminded him of the times he'd left Baelfire sleeping in the Hovel to go work! Spinning thread. Making dinner. Plotting to steal the dagger. That was Bae's loft, and Bae's chair, and Bae's drawings, and his clothes. By the door was where he'd said his first words, the little wall where the wool used to be was where he liked to hide when they played, the table where he sharpened his coals, the floor he'd taken his first steps! It felt like his son had become a ghost, and it all tore deeper into his soul every time he so much as lifted a finger to do anything!

The Hovel wasn't his home anymore. It was his prison. It was a distraction.

He was never going to get Bae back living in a dying town where people constantly came and went, where every nook and cranny had him reliving memories of his son.

So he moved.

He did what, in his opinion, he should have done a long time ago, and moved back to his castle. He'd barely been there since Baelfire had left him. Mostly he'd just been there to pick up various items or look into books he hoped would help him. He'd used it to store the Dark One Chronicles. But beyond that, he hadn't returned. The cold, stone walls were perfect. Though Bae had once been here with him, he'd been so miserable that he'd spent most of his time by himself, hiding away from his father. Painful as those memories were, they worked in his favor now. There were only a few adjustments needed to make it easier. The chair Bae had once eaten at, he moved it to the fireplace, now, if he really felt like eating at the table, he could eat alone without feeling like his son was missing. The room that had once belonged to Baelfire, still stuffed with clothes and books that belonged to him, he closed the door to it. This way, he wouldn't have to look inside every time he passed by.

It was quieter in the castle than it had been before. He was the only occupant now. He didn't feel tired or grow hungry. He didn't feel things like hot or cold, but he'd lit the fires in the rooms he used anyway, and eventually, the smoke rising from the place was what must have given his return away to the village below. In good time, people began once again knocking on doors and asking him for trinkets, but with much less regularity as they did when he'd lived at the Hovel. He didn't send them away. He figured if they'd made the trek up the mountain, then they must have truly wanted what they came for, and he did his best to accommodate them in a way that suited what he might want. Always what he wanted, because what he needed, that felt like it was growing wildly out of reach every day.

Killian Jones's hand taunted him. It sat in that jar of preservatives in his castle, across from his chair waving at him, begging for attention! It was a reminder of just how foolish and arrogant he'd once been. A reminder of how Milah had got to him one last time and then cost him his son…again. He hated that woman. He hated that pirate and Smee, but he had yet to find either of them. His only conclusion was that they were together and hadn't parted ways when he'd left. For all he knew, Smee had been in on it with Milah and Jones. It was all a conspiracy to keep that bean from him! And now he wallowed in those thoughts every time he saw that hand.

He despaired. He wanted his son, but magic beans, though not as extinct as the Blue Witch had claimed, were hard to find. Meanwhile, who knew how much time was passing wherever Baelfire was. He'd read up on everything he could get his hands on when it came to crossing realms, and while he was surprised to find that there was a Land Without Magic, he was horrified when he'd read that time passed differently in other realms. Sometimes it moved at the same speed, sometimes it was faster, sometimes it was slower. It all depended where on the map the realm was in relation to a location called The Edge of Realms, where time moved the fastest.

How old was Bae now? Sixteen? Seventeen? Thirty? Eighty? For all he knew, Bae was dead and buried in the ground. He'd lived a life that he only ever had dreamt about without his father, and now he was doomed to live for an eternity alone…for all he knew.

For all he knew, but for all someone else knew…

He stopped staring at the hand in front of him at his thoughts. He knew what he needed. He needed assurance, he needed someone who knew more about this than him, someone who knew more about him than even he knew. He needed someone who could look into the future, who could tell him about Baelfire and then tell him about how he would find him! And fortunately for him, he knew of one such person from long ago.

The books were not the clearest on finding Seers, especially the one that he had found. Those who were blind, as the little girl he'd once met, were rare but true. Their sight didn't lie. If only he'd known that decades ago! After all, it seemed to be her prophecy and his knowledge of it that set all this into motion. He couldn't risk it happening again, but he couldn't stand not knowing. At first, he'd decided to take her prisoner. He'd come to the conclusion it was the only thing that would get him answers he could be sure of. But it took him months to locate her. It came from nearly a dozen different deals, from stalking pubs late at night and listening to conversations, but he had to admit that he was at a disadvantage. She seemed to be someone who didn't want to be found, and with her foresight, it often meant that she was gone before he even really found a clue. Empty houses, led to empty cottages with fires still lit. Rumors of a blind witch misled him, and by the end of the fifth month of his search he no longer cared to capture the girl, just talk to her! And that was when one beggar, a poor man who stood out on the street preaching of hope and joy he'd heard from the mouth of an eyeless witch in the woods, betrayed her.

In theory, this place seemed right, but he'd learned that she was a tricky beast. The beggar told him that his encounter with the witch had happened a day before in the woods, at a campsite where she was living. It was a simple campsite, he'd told him, simple so that she could flee at a moment's notice if need be. No wonder she'd been getting away so easily.

The place he'd arrived at was certainly a campsite, and the fire was still burning bright and hot. Someone had been here not long ago. And he hoped she was still here. He could use magic, go through her things, find a hair or drop of blood to track her deeper into the woods with, but he'd also been a soldier once, the last time they'd met as a matter of fact. He was certain if he looked hard, he could find some footprints, or hell maybe if he stood still he could hear her. Unless her eyes had moved from her hands to her eyes, then she was still blind! She couldn't get very far running through a forest with-

"I've been expecting you."

He froze at the female voice behind him. There now. Not far. Not when she'd know he was coming, not when she knew he wasn't a true threat, at least not anymore. Perhaps that was why it had taken him so long to locate her...

"Then you know exactly why I came here," he announced as he turned to see her walking behind him with one of her hands outstretched so she didn't trip on a log. He'd been right. She wouldn't get very far here. Foresight was the only gift she had working for her.

"What I foretold during the Ogres War has finally come to pass."

"Oh!" he chuckled. Sure it had, if that was how she wanted to look at it. Seers…they spoke the truth, but a bit of translation to their riddles would always come in handy! "Well, in a manner of speaking. I, uh, hobbled myself on the battlefield. Was branded a coward. My wife ran away and left me. Then, my son was called to the front. Oh! Then I became The Dark One. Then, Bae left me," he explained as he circled her, finally stopping just over her shoulder. She showed no reaction to his movement, not even to the news that he was the Dark One. Because of course, she'd probably known all that too! "So, yes. My actions on the battlefield left my son fatherless. But…it would've been nice to know about all that pesky detail."

"Knowing would not have made a difference," she insisted. "You still would have been powerless to escape your fate."

He giggled as he moved away from her. "Just…like…you." He raised his hand in the air and began to squeeze so that it was difficult for her to breathe but not impossible. He needed information; he couldn't have her dead! Which was probably why, unlike everyone else, she didn't put her hands to her throat to try and stop him. She knew what to do to make it stop! "Now, you know exactly why I came here."

"You want to find your son!" she croaked out.

"Indeed." His point made, he released her. For a moment, she gasped in the air around them, then suddenly stopped. She raised her hands in the air, and he took a step back, suddenly remembering what came with those familiar motions. Answers. Maybe this time, useful ones. Her hands opened, and those terrifyingly clear blue eyes opened to roll back into her palms as if in ecstasy.

"You will find him," she hissed out.

That much he knew. There wasn't any other option other than finding Baelfire. He wasn't here for those answers, to be told what he knew, he wanted details this time!

"How? And this time, don't leave out a single detail."

Suddenly her gaze, if he could call it that, shifted. She moved her hands to left as if she was feeling for something "It will not be an easy path…" She moved her hands to the right, still searching. "It will take many years…" -her hands were back to him now- "And require a curse." He watched as her hands began to shake and suddenly turned over. "A curse…powerful enough to rip everyone from this land!" she cried raising her shaking arms into the air and then-

All at once, it stopped. The magic he'd felt around her began to crack and dissipated as she began to shake and shiver, casting her head down as though she were sad and weak. This hadn't happened when she was a child. What was happening? He needed more from her!

"Yes, yes, there's more, I know it. Tell me!"

"You will not cast the curse…" she revealed, letting those blue eyes stare at him once more as her scarred face turned back to him. And then to the left again, as if she was feeling for something. "Someone else will! And you will not break the curse…someone else will!"

She was all over the place in a way she hadn't been when she was a girl. To the left to the right in front of her, before him. She moved her body, her hands, as if she was searching for where he'd hidden the words before shaking and slouching forward again. Her body still shook and quivered as if she was crying. It was obvious she was tired, and there was something big in her head, but what she'd given him wasn't enough! He didn't want riddles; he wanted answers. He needed more!

"Tell me!"

Her eyeless face turned back at him as she tried to catch her breath. She shook her head. "I don't know. Even my powers have limits."

Limits…now her powers had limits. It was difficult to tell on a being like her, she had no eyes he could look into to see if she was avoiding his glare, but he had the very distinct feeling he was being lied to. Of course, he couldn't prove it, but with Baelfire on the line, he'd do what he had to do to make sure every word out of her mouth was the truth!

"Ah, ah, ah. Not good enough, dearie."

She wasn't done trying to catch her breath, but he raised his hand once more and cut off more air from her lungs, let her get a taste of what lies resulted in. She gasped and struggled for air once more but didn't fight it in the way the others had. She rolled her shoulders, sought to make her body comfortable, but he did his best to make sure she never found it and wouldn't until she revealed everything she saw.

"If you want to see the path you must take, there is only one way," she croaked out. Suddenly, despite her struggling, she raised her hands toward him, palms toward the sky in invitation…but for what? "Take this burden from me!"

It was five little words, but it was clear enough to him. A deal. Her life for her power. The power of foresight! The ability to see what she saw! The ability to be free of her, to not have to seek her out or interpret her riddles or wonder if she was telling the truth or lying! Her powers had limitations. He wasn't sure if it was true, but he wondered what those so-called "limits" would look like mixed with what he already had inside of him. Ordinarily, he might take more time to consider the consequences, to weigh the pros and cons, but as far as he was concerned, there was no time to waste. Her power, the ability to see how he'd get Baelfire back, for her life…

"Mm, gladly!"

He grasped her hands tight and sent magic shooting from his body, into her own. The magic wound it's way through her body, seeking out her ability, hooking onto it, and pulling it violently back to his own body. For her, the effect was pain. Tearing her power from her was ripping her apart! He could feel it! But he only closed his eyes against the light coming off of him from the transaction. He squeezed his hands tighter over hers, fighting the urge to cover his ears against her screams but soon found both sight and sound drowned out by images and noise in his own mind!

"First born of Princess Cora to cast the curse to end all curses," the Seer's voice whispered inside his head.

A dark haired woman cradling a baby in her arms.

Another beautiful woman with brown hair at an odd angle.

A face hidden beneath a gray hood.

A dock where a woman with blonde hair stood.

A hero's burial.

He felt every shovel of dirt over that fell over the coffin.

"By summoning a Dark One…"

The book he'd taken from the home of Nana Odie, the one with his name written in it.

A family gathered around a table

"A twin will become a false prince…"

His face in the mirror not scared by this wretched curse.

Gideon.

Strange clothes.

A baby in his arms

A sunset.

A golden-haired boy.

"Storybrooke, Maine, United States of America."

A globe with landmasses unrecognizable.

Milah's Captain beside the blonde woman.

A checkered colored dress.

"Snow White and Prince Charming shall bear the Savior who will return to break the curse on her twenty-eighth birthday…"

A woman with skin as white as snow and black hair cloaked beside a man with a handsome face and sandy hair.

"I love you."

Roses.

A crystal necklace.

"And I love you."

Neverland.

"A precious debt from a woman of ash will find the boy of fire…"

A woman in rags and golden hair.

A dusty, poorly lit room.

Six wands lined up on a shelf in perfect order.

A pink house.

A form in the bed beside him.

A feeling of overwhelming love and desire and happiness.

A woman with a sharp nose and melodic laugh.

"The Final battle between good and evil will begin…"

He had to open his eyes. The images were overwhelming, and…anger roared within his chest as the noise and clutter continued. His head hurt. He hadn't had a headache since before his curse, and for what?!

It was all gibberish to him. It meant nothing.

"I can't…see…anything," he cried out over the noise, only just suddenly aware of how their bodies shook. "It's too much. It's nothing but a jumble.

"The future is a puzzle with many pieces to be sorted. In time, you will learn to separate what can be, from what will be."

Another curse!

He let go of her hands, and she crashed to the ground, no doubt just as weak as he would have felt if not for the magic coursing through him. Time. More time! In time he'd learned to use the Dark Curse, and now in time he'd learn to use these powers…it was a trick! No better than the one Zoso had once played on him! At the realization, he could hear his old ghost laughing somewhere in the back of his head, taunting him for what he'd failed to see yet again!

"This is why you wanted to give me your power. To free yourself from this torment!"

"In time, you will work it all out," she breathed.

Of course, he would. There was no other choice! She'd seen to that!

"Wait!" she called as he turned to leave her. Apparently, she hadn't lost all of her power. Her uncanny ability to see without sight still remained. She was lucky his head hurt as it did, otherwise he might have taken that ability from her as well. But if it meant losing his eyes and having them placed in the palm of his hands as hers were, even now…he was glad he hadn't. Everyone had a line. That was his. "As gratitude, I offer you one piece of the puzzle." He watched as she raised one of her hands off the ground and swirled it through the air once more. "You will be reunited with your son, and it will come in a most unexpected way."

Yes, yes! Enough riddles! Details he needed details!

"How?!" he demanded as he crept forward, just as desperate for her words as he'd ever been.

"A boy…a young boy will lead you to him. But beware, Rumpelstiltskin, for that boy is more than he appears. He will lead you…to what you seek. But there will be a price. The boy…will be your undoing."

He watched as the eye on the Seer's hands closed, her hand fell to the ground, and he twisted and turned to examine her body. Nothing. Her chest didn't rise and fall with breath, and there was no sound coming from that chest of hers. With her final prophecy, she had nothing left to give. And now she was dead. It wasn't sad. It was natural. After one served their purpose, what else was there left for them than death, which is why he knew exactly what awaited the boy she'd spoken of after he had served his purpose. For there was nothing that would separate him from his son again once he'd found him, not death and certainly not a child. The next time he found his son would be the first day of the rest of their eternity. And as for this boy she'd spoken of…

"Then I'll just have to kill him…"

#rumbelle #rumpelstiltskin #seer #fanfic

[ilovemesomekillianjones]

All Aboard Part 3/3

Hey guys!! This story was originally a one shot for the CS Cocktober event, but I got carried away, so here is the final part. Thanks to my girl @xhookswenchx for providing me a setting for my story with this post of her travel experience, and letting me build upon it for Emma’s travel experience. And all the love and appreciation to the talented   @hookedonapirate for her beta services!  And thanks to allof you who requested more after the first part, you allowed me to take the story to a fuller completion :p     

Part 1     Part 2     ao3     ffnet     8.7k     Rated E 

CUT Line here :p

It was a mistake. Emma knew the moment her train jolted into motion that she’d made a life changing mistake. She would regret for the rest of her life the moment she left Killian Jones standing on the platform of a train station, again.

It was now fifteen hours into the last leg of her train trip. She’d cried herself to sleep immediately following the train’s 6:30 PM departure the evening before, then alternated between tears and fitful sleep for the next twelve hours. She woke for good when she couldn’t avoid getting up any longer because she had to pee so badly. Now she sat in her window chair staring aimlessly at the blank screen of her dead iPhone. She wanted to look at blurry photos of them. Only it wouldn’t be the photos that were blurry, but the tears flooding her eyes which made everything blurry. She was too angry at herself to even get up to plug in her phone. Punishment for pulling an Emma, she thought as her self loathing came forth from the shadows to point out her mistake.

Her stomach growled loudly and she realized she hadn’t eaten or drank anything since her late lunch yesterday. Despite having every amenity aboard this new train, even a small personal bathroom, Emma didn’t want to shower or brush her hair or teeth, but she realized the world shouldn’t be punished for her mistakes. Pulling herself from the chair she fumbled through the motions of making herself look like a presentable human. Once she was as ready for the day as she would ever be, freshly showered, hair in a messy bun, jeans, t-shirt, no makeup and glasses, she headed to the dining cart.

~♥~

Killian boarded his train and headed straight for the bar. Heartbreak of this magnitude - and yes, he’d contemplated the situation; this was heartbreak - called for a drink, or six. But as he sat at the bar with his first rum in hand, he realized he didn’t want to drown out the memories of Emma. Sipping it slowly instead of shooting it like his hurting soul wanted him to, he pondered if he was doomed to always have his love be unrequited. He huffed at the thought, because he knew better. Emma had felt exactly the same as he, otherwise she would not have looked and sounded as broken as she did when she told him goodbye.

I should’ve gone after her, he thought. A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets. Killian couldn’t remember how many times he’d heard Liam repeat that mantra as the two of them navigated through life as fatherless youth. “Bloody coward,” he muttered.

Slamming his glass down, he didn’t order another drink. Instead he headed back to his room where he fell into a restless sleep, plagued with dreams of her and what could have been if he were a braver man.

He woke much later than usual the next day, and the first thing he did was check his phone, foolishly hopeful that Emma had seen his contact information in her AirDrop notifications. Of course there was nothing. He cursed under his breath as he realized perhaps Emma had been right. Was he a peddler of hope? “Pull yourself together, Jones.”

Walking to the dining cart for lunch and perhaps a drink, he found a corner table to sit at, where he pulled out his phone to look at the pictures they’d taken together. He could delete them in an effort to get over her more quickly, he thought - but immediately realized he wouldn’t even consider the notion as a viable option. He stewed in his own misery as he waited on his drink. Killian thought he might be taking his mourning to a new level when he was assaulted with the smell of her. Olfactory memories were positively soul crushing. Inhaling deeply, he looked around, and a spark of that pesky hope ignited in his heart when he saw a blonde sitting down at the bar. “Swan,” he whispered before he could even stop himself from speaking aloud.

~♥~

Plopping down into the bar stool, Emma ordered a shot of rum, despite the morning hour. She needed a little something to take the edge off as she tried to come to terms with her current state. She’d fucked up bad, and not only was she miserable over it, but soon she’d be in the presence of the most sappily, happily married couple in the universe.

Emma immediately snatched up the drink and took that first swig, enjoying the burn in her throat, the one that spoke of a soothing calm on it’s way to encompass her battered being. Of course that was still many drinks off, but still, a drunken stupor seemed a better outlook than miserable idiot.

“What’ll you have?”

“Can you make breakfast grilled cheese and onion rings,” she mumbled. Maybe her childlike comfort foods would help. They won’t, her inner bitch yelled at her. Wonderful, now even her own inner monologue was turning on her. She put a hand to her forehead as tears welled up in her eyes once more.

“Fine choices.”

Emma whirled around in her seat. “Killian!” she cried softly when her eyes confirmed what her ears and heart already knew. She threw herself into his arms and kissed him just as passionately as she had the last time their lips met. “Wh- how are you here?” She rained kisses all over his cheeks. Grasping at him to make sure he was real, and she wasn’t still asleep.  

“I guess we must still be headed in the same-” his words were cut off as she crashed her lips to his once again.

“I don’t care. I don’t care how you’re here. I’m just glad that you’re here.” Emma held his face in her hands, afraid that if they separated he’d somehow disappear.

“Me too, love. Would you… will you join me for breakfast?”

Emma could hear the hesitance in his voice as he asked her the question, and even worse, she could see the fear of rejection clouding his handsome face. “I’d love nothing more.” Looking to the bartender, she asked him to have her food brought to Killian’s table, then they went to sit down. At first they sat quietly, holding hands across the table and marveling in the serendipity of being on the same train again.

“I’m so sorry, Killian. I made a mistake. I never should have let you go like that, without even exchanging numbers or anything.”

“Where’s your phone?”

“It’s dead in my room, but as soon as I charge it, I am putting your number in there.”

“Well, as soon as you charge it, I think you’ll find my number is already in there.” He scratched behind his ear, biting his lip nervously as he awaited her reaction.

“When did you put your number in my phone?”

“When you AirDropped the photos, I sent you my contact information.”

“Sneaky pirate,” she laughed.

“Desperate pirate,” he corrected.

“Smart pirate.”

“Would you like to come back to my place?” Emma asked when they’d finished eating.

“Aye, I’d like that very much.”

As they walked back to her roomette, a flutter of butterflies swarmed Emma’s insides. There were so many things she wanted to say to Killian, but she’d never been good at communication. Perhaps it was a stunted skill from her childhood, or perhaps she should stop making excuses for herself and just try her damned best. Yes, she decided. That is what she’d do… try her best.   

The minute the door closed, Killian had her pressed up against it. He sealed his lips to hers, kissing, nipping, sucking, licking, desperate to connect with her on the level she knew and allowed.

“Wait, Killian. Can we… can we talk?”

He ceased all movements, and a tiny seed of doubt started to grow as she looked into his eyes. “Aye, love. We can do whatever you fancy.” He adjusted her glasses on her nose as he’d bumped them when he’d plundered her mouth. “I like when you wear your glasses, you look adorable.”

She’d always felt self conscious in her glasses, and as an adult had only ever wore them in the privacy of her own place, but somehow he melted away years of insecurity with just that one compliment. “Thank you,” Emma mumbled, ducking her head down and blushing fiercely.

“I know it’s barely been a day, but I’ve missed you terribly, Swan.”

Emma guided him over to the couch, the one which she hadn’t even bothered with turning down into a bed the previous evening as she cried herself to sleep. Sitting down next to Killian, she folded her legs beneath her and turned so she could face him. “If you want to know the truth, I missed you the minute I walked away.”

“Then yes, I want to know the truth.” He smiled cheekily at her, trying to keep the situation light. He desperately wished to talk to her on the deepest of levels, but he also did not want to startle her into running off again.

“You don’t have to do that,” Emma started. She placed a hand against his face and caressed his stubbled cheek. “I promise, I am not going to run away again.”

Killian released a breath as those words slammed into him in the best way. “That’s a relief, lass. I don’t think I could handle it twice in as many days.”

Brushing her thumb over the apple of his cheek and across the crinkles at the corner of his eye when he smiled at her, Emma decided to take a leap of faith. “I’m not good with words, but for you, I want to try.”

If possible, his smile grew bigger and brighter. Killian nodded his head in encouragement, staying silent so she could command the floor.            

“You know my past with men, my track record with relationships, and you’re probably savvy enough to recognize that I use that record as an excuse to judge all men by and hide away. What you don’t know is I have never met a man like you, I knew from the beginning that you were different, you treated me like I was something special. That would normally scare me to death, but because you were a temporary fixture in my life, I let myself be real with you. I let you show me real affection, I reveled in it, and I returned it. I didn’t hold back because I knew you weren’t here to stay, and you’d never have the opportunity to throw me away.”

Killian’s heart swelled as he listened to her admit she did feel the same as he did, and then it broke when she suggested he could ever throw her away. “Emma, I could never-” but before he could proclaim his pure intentions, she cut him off with a kiss.

“Let me finish?” she whispered against his lips, desperate to speak, now that the words were flowing. Kissing him again to assure him that no ill will was meant from her words, she waited for the nod he gave her. “I’ve never believed in love at first sight, or fairy tale romances, so when I allowed your affection I didn’t realize how much I was compromising my heart, I let myself fall for you, Killian. And I fucked up when I let you go yesterday. It was careless, and heartless...” A single tear slid down her cheek as she fought to keep the rest from falling. “I ended up doing to you what happened to me my whole life, and I’m so sorry, I never wanted to hurt you. Can you forgive me?”

“There is nothing to forgive, Emma. Nothing in my heart has changed since yesterday. I am smitten by you, and I want to give this thing a try.” Killian found her lips again and sealed his words with a kiss.

Climbing into his lap, the damn burst and her tears fell freely. She’d never been the one to hurt someone she cared for, and it had weighed more heavily on her heart than she’d known, until his words lifted the weight. “Me too, Killian, I want to be with you. And I’m so sorry I didn’t admit it to myself earlier. I’m sorry I hurt you.”     

“Stop apologizing, love. I understand why you did what you did. And I’ve faith that since I pirated your phone, you would have contacted me eventually, even if we hadn’t ended up on the same train. Now that I have you in my arms, nothing else matters.” He leaned in to kiss her more, wrapping his arms firmly around her back to tuck her close.

Emma’s heart was bursting at the seams, more full than it had ever felt. She wasn’t ready to make any declarations of love just yet, but she knew she was where she was supposed to be in this moment. She knew the arms around her belonged around her, and the lips fused to her lips belonged there. Maybe Killian really was the reason she hadn’t gone home sooner; she was supposed to meet him.  

“Remind me to thank Liam for needing to go home. I’d have never been on that platform three days ago if he and Elsa hadn’t felt the compelling need to return to London.”

“Remind me to thank him too,” Emma murmured into his mouth. She rolled her tongue and her hips in sync, signaling to him the time for talking had come to an end. Let the proverbial makeup sex ensue, she thought.   

Killian returned her advances with a thrust of his own, then pounced on her, sprawling her to her back.

Emma giggled as he nestled in between her thighs and blazed a trail of hard sucking kisses along her neck and down to her chest. He slinked a hand underneath her top and squeezed her breast playfully before declaring them both overdressed for the occasion. Emma raised her arms in supplication, wordlessly asking him to undress her.

Pulling her shirt over her head, Killian effortlessly unfastened her bra so he could look his fill. “Bloody gorgeous.” Surging forward he sucked one nipple in his mouth, teasing it with his teeth and tongue while he rolled the other between deft fingers.

Emma hummed appreciatively when he switched up his ministrations so he could lap at her other breast and tweak the former. The man was talented. She decided she needed to tell him all things now, since she was turning over a new leaf. “You have a prodigious mouth, Jones, is there anything you can’t do with it?”

Killian growled against her chest, biting down gently. “I don’t suppose I could drive a car with it,” he murmured between bites and sucks.

“Shut up. You know what I mean.”

“Aye, I do. Is that a request?”

Emma leered at him greedily as his tongue darted over his lips, then nodded her head.

Killian didn’t need to be asked twice, he was ready and willing to taste her ambrosia again. Divesting her of her pants, he didn’t bother removing her panties which were already soaked through. “Someone is quite ready.” He started with chaste kisses along each thigh, and then the top of her mound.

“Killian,” she whined.

“Patience.” He pulled her panties to the side then parted her folds by licking them open with his tongue pointed and firm. Inhaling deeply, his eyes rolled shut, and his cock twitched against its confines. “You smell delectable, Swan.”

Emma could feel the warmth spread throughout her body. She was not used to a man saying things like that to her, and what’s more, she knew he meant what he said. “It’s all for you, babe.”

“Mmmm, darling, you are too good to me.”

Emma felt like he was the one that was too good to her as he worked her up. He sucked her clit between his lips, then circled it with his tongue getting her right to the edge before switching gears and fucking her with his tongue. The wet sounds of his tongue fucking her flesh as his nose pressed against her clit had her seeing stars, and she involuntarily raked her fingers into his hair and held his face to her, breathlessly pleading for him to never stop. Her toes curled and her legs flexed as she came around his tongue. And then suddenly it was too much as he continued to lap and flick at her now over sensitive nub. “Too much, too much,” she whined, writhing away from him.

He plunged two fingers deep inside her then withdrew them and sucked them into his mouth. “You taste too divine darling,” he groaned.

Emma watched through darkened eyes as he sucked his digits clean, then wrenched his head up toward hers and captured his mouth in a salacious kiss. “My turn.” Emma stood up and pulled Killian up by the collar of his shirt. Unfastening each button slowly, Emma pushed the shirt from his shoulders then massaged her hands along his arms, his shoulders and down to his pecs. She pulled lightly at the hair covering his chest, staring at it appraisingly. “I have a  confession to make.”

“I’ve found most women do.”   

Emma yanked his chest hair in response to his sarcasm. “You’re just full of one liners today.”

“Watch the goods, love,” he complained, rubbing his chest and smirking. “Now tell me, what is it you must confess?”

“I have never in my life been turned on by chest hair.” She paused a beat waiting for his reaction, teasing him a bit like he teased her. Emma instantly felt horrible when his gaze fell and he shied away from her touch. “Come back here,” she coaxed, grabbing him by the buckle of his belt. “That is, until I met you.” Killian’s smile immediately came back as she grasped at a particularly thick thatch and hummed appreciatively. “This is so fucking hot, like the inception of chest hair was created for you. I love the feel of it rubbing against me when we make love. And the way it all comes together to lead the way,” she rasped as she dragged her fingernail along his happy trail, “to your hidden treasure is beyond erotic.”

Yanking him all the way to her by his belt buckle, she wrapped her other hand around his head to pull him in for a kiss. Emma quickly unbuckled his belt, so she could rid him of the rest of his clothes.

Killian actually blushed red to the tips of his ears as Emma stepped back and eye fucked him six ways to Sunday. He stood naked before her as she circled him. He’d never been shy, but he’d also never been studied, and next to her flawlessness, he felt somehow lacking.    

“You are a perfect specimen, Killian Jones, you’ve got it all, the face and hair of an Adonis, the perfect build.” Stepping up behind him, she grasped his firm cheeks, “A very enticing butt, and,” she continued snaking her arm around his waist and wrapping his length in her soft hand, “let’s not forget the supercock amongst mere mortals. Pick your pleasure, babe. You want me to jerk you off, or do you want to fuck my mouth?”  

Killian’s breath stuttered as she pumped him with one hand and cradled his balls with the other. He groaned audibly at her salacious words. He wanted it all really. “Let me have your mouth, love.”

“As you wish.” Emma released her hold on him, turned him around, and dropped to her knees, removing her glasses. Taking each of his hands, Emma placed one on each side of her head, letting him take control and folded her own hands in her lap.

Killian gazed down hungrily at this woman offering herself to him, he threaded his fingers into her hair and guided her hot mouth to his waiting cock. He whimpered at the sensation of her tongue gliding along his shaft and hitting the sensitive underside of his head as he slowly slid in and out of her mouth. He didn’t dare to fully seat himself, for fear he’d hurt her, and still her mouth felt like heaven.

Emma pulled off of him, and narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t say make love to my mouth, you can make love to me. I said you could fuck my mouth,” she said lustfully.   

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. How about I pinch your left ass cheek if it’s too much?”

Killian chuckled at her suggestion until he realized she was dead serious. Every gentlemanly fiber of his body told him he shouldn’t be considering what she was suggesting, but his baser desires were kicking in, and the thought of ramming his cock down her throat was not something he wanted to pass on. “Left ass cheek,” he confirmed.

Emma smiled at his acceptance and then swiftly engulfed his cock in her mouth once more. He picked up the pace infinitesimally, until Emma slapped his right ass cheek hard and grunted around him.

He tightened his grip in her hair as she spurred him on, slapping his ass and shoving him hard against the back of her throat. His resolve to be gentle broke when she swallowed around him, and he found his head fully lodged in her throat.

Emma breathed through her nose as she swallowed him down, and saw the moment his eyes went wild with the need to thrust. Were her lips not so stretched around his girth she would have smiled victoriously. She placed her hands lightly at his hips, not to guide him, but just enough to feel the rutting of his muscles as he well and truly fucked her mouth. Reaching a hand down between her legs she shoved two fingers inside her wetness and brought them to her clit. She hummed against him as the delights of his hands fisting and pulling her hair collided with the way he used her mouth and the sensation of her fingers as she played with herself.

He pulled out of her throat as his thrusts became more shallow, but still furious. He was hitting the back of her throat with each pass and his cock swelled impossibly as the pull of his climax built in his balls and his spine. A shiver coursed through Killian, his mouth went slack while his nipples tightened, and each muscle in his body flexed as he began spilling himself against her tongue.

The moment his salty come hit her taste buds Emma came quietly, pressing her fingers solidly against her clit and riding the waves of pleasure. She sucked and licked greedily at everything he gave her then smirked up at him as he slumped down into the chair. Emma rose from the floor and sat on the couch facing Killian.

“Fuck love, that was amazing.”

“I know, you made me come again.”

“I did?”

Emma nodded seductively as she ghosted her fingers along her lips. “You made me come all over my fingers.”

“Tell me more.”

“Your sounds, and the way you pulled my hair, and the thrust of your hips, I couldn’t help but touch myself.” She sucked her fingers into her mouth, licking away her arousal.

Killian’s limp member sprang to life at the picture before him. She’d be the death of him; a heart attack during sex couldn’t be the worst way to go, though.

“I still need you though.”

He watched as she spread her legs, propping one over the back of the couch. Her greedy little hand roamed the expanse of her body until it lay over her mound. “Where, Emma, show me where you need me.”

“Here,” she whispered as she sunk two fingers inside her pussy. “I still need you here.”

“Bloody hell, woman.” Killian went to her, kneeling by the couch, fist wrapped around his half hard cock.

Emma sucked her lip between her teeth and bit down hard as she watched Killian stroke his shaft. She brought her free hand to her breast to play with her nipples, pinching and rolling as she sped up her fingers.

He was going to come again, her soft whimpers and the wet sounds of the glide of her fingers thrusting in and out of her core was killing him. She was going to wreck him twice and he hadn’t even been inside her. Killian immediately loosened his grip; he couldn’t be that selfish. Yes, he wanted to stroke himself to completion while she fucked her fingers, but she’d also told him she needed him. “Are you going to make yourself come again before I get my turn, darling?”

“I’d rather you make me come.” Emma pulled her fingers from her pussy and held them out to Killian. He complied, latching onto her wet fingers and licking them clean while crawling on top of her. He penetrated her easily with the way her arousal coated her.

“Gods, Emma.” Killian rested his forehead to her neck and luxuriated in the sensations of her swollen walls welcoming him.

Emma clenched her core against his cock, squeezing him, spurring him to action. She needed movement, dammit.

“Do it again, I love the way you squeeze me.”

Emma squeezed him once more, then demanded that he start moving. Finally he withdrew, and the way his cock rubbed her walls was sublime. Placing both hands on his ass, she guided him back home while meeting his hips with her own. She craned her neck to kiss him, wanting to feel his tongue against her while he made love to her. The room reverberated with whispered praises, the meeting of flesh, and wet kisses as they moved together to reach that ultimate high one more time.  

Emma threaded one hand into his hair, and caressed his face with the other. Their tongues moved at the same tempo as their bodies, and she’d never felt closer in mind, body, and soul to anyone in her life.   

Coming up for air, he looked into Emma’s eyes, and the way that she stared back at him had his heart pounding in his chest for reasons other than being buried balls deep inside her. Killian was lost to her on so many levels. Her walls pulsed against him, trying to wrench his orgasm from him, sheer torture in the form of pleasure.                

The way his pelvic bone met Emma’s clit each time he plunged home had her wading into the deep end within minutes. She watched the cords of his neck strain against his skin as he fought to stave off his release. “Let go for me, Killian.”  

The minute she said the words his release consumed him, his cock spasmed and shot his hot seed deep inside her warm walls. The pulse of his seed as it wet her pussy triggered Emma’s climax, and her clit vibrated with pleasure that echoed through her entire body. Killian continued slow, shallow passes, letting their combined release soak her folds and thighs and bathe his sensitive cock, and sending small aftershocks through Emma, a shiver wracking her body each time her clit sparked with a mini pleasure jolt.

Emma had no desire to leave the comfort of his arms as they lay basking in the aftermath of fervent love making. Her mind wandered to all the promise this reunion held, she had no idea what was coming next, but she felt an unfamiliar calm running through her as she realized she’d never have to wonder what might have been.

“Let’s turn down the bed?”

“Shower first?”

“I’ve no wish to leave this room, darling.”

“We don’t have to, I have an en suite this time.”

“In that case, let’s get you clean you filthy vixen.”

Emma’s mouth dropped open and she reached out to twist his nipple. “Me?”

“Oi, that fucking hurt!”

“It was supposed to, you ass.”

“I meant it as the highest of compliments, Swan.” Killian stood up and offered his hand to pull her up, flashing her his cheekiest grin.

Emma couldn’t help but smile; she wasn’t really mad anyway, she’d be his filthy vixen any time he wanted. Taking his extended hand, she got up and stretched her body. A yawn and subsequent chill ran through her body as the exhaustion of a shitty night’s sleep and overwrought emotions caught up with her.

“Tired?”

“It was a trying night, I was busy freaking out over some great guy that I let slip away.” Killian pulled her into a warm embrace, skin to skin, and the way he smiled at her, eyes crinkled in the corners, melted her heart.    

“I too had a rough night, I was a bit melancholy over this brilliant lass that came into my life like a hurricane and swept my heart away with her when she left. It’s a good thing I found her again, or I imagine I’d make for terrible company.”

Emma imagined she was probably giving him that same sappy smile as she listened to him tell her how much his evening had sucked. “What a heartless bitch.”

Killian chuckled as she pulled him toward the shower. “Hardly.”

After a steaming hot shower where they actually did just get clean… between lots of kisses, they turned down the bed and crawled in.  

“Set an alarm for around four? That’ll give us an hour until we make the station.”

“Will do,” Killian said, reaching for his phone. A nap sounded wonderful, especially with Emma in his arms.  After setting his phone, he turned off the table lamp, then pulled her tightly against his chest, and a soft sigh of contentment left his lips.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered while snuggling into the cocoon of his body.

A wash of comfort swept over her as he murmured a heartfelt “me too” in her ear.

~♥~

“Ten minutes to arrival.”

The automated overhead message had Killian sitting bolt upright and Emma throwing the pillow over her head.  “Shit! Wake up, lass.”

“Stop,” she whined as Killian shook her shoulder. “Need sleep.”

“Ten minutes till we pull into South Station, love.”

“Fuck! I thought you set an alarm?”

“I did! Though I might’ve forgotten to toggle it to PM.”

He gave such a cute forgive me smile, she couldn’t help but grin back. Cupping his cheek she leaned forward to give him a kiss, then hopped out of bed to get dressed. “Guess we better hurry then.”

They both dressed, and Emma gathered her few belongings into her duffel bag as the train pulled into the South Station of Boston, Massachusetts. A moment of panic surged her chest as she wondered what truly did come next.

Killian witnessed the moment reality set in for Emma, her eyes bugged wide and her body tensed. “We don’t need all the answers right now, Swan.”

She scoffed under her breath. Easy for you to say, she thought. However, she was going to be positive, hopeful even, that this thing with Killian was going to work out.  “Okay, I trust you.”

The moment  they stepped off the train, after collecting Killian’s things from his room, the icy winter air greeted them. “Oh my god, it’s freezing! I forgot how cold it gets, I have to pee now,” Emma complained. “What?” she asked as Killian cocked an eyebrow and chuckled at her. “The cold air makes me have to pee,” she laughed, realizing she was probably way oversharing.  

“Let me hold your bag, you go to the bathroom and then meet me at Au Bon Pain, it’s where I’m supposed to meet my brother and his wife. I’ll get us a couple of hot cocoas ordered.”

“Sounds perfect,” she beamed at him. Kissing him on the cheek she went in search of the nearest restroom.

Killian headed to the small coffee shop. He didn’t see his brother or Elsa as he entered, so he got into line to order the cocoa. As he stood in line minding his own business, he noticed a couple who seemed to be studying him. He tried to ignore them, but eventually the woman’s quizzical gaze got to be too much. “May I help you, lass,” he asked politely.

“Yep, that’s him,” the man said.

“See I told you it was him.”

Killian was confused, he hadn’t a clue who these two Americans could possibly think he was. “And just who is it you think I am?”

“Killian Jones,” the petite brunette said.  “You look just like your picture.”

“My picture?” How do they have my picture? he wondered as the woman held out her cell phone with a picture of his face on the screen.

“You’ll have to excuse her,” the blonde man intervened. “We should probably explain who we are before we go showing strangers that we have their pictures, dear.”

“Oh, of course!” The woman blushed and smiled while running both hands over her very visible baby bump, “You’ll have to forgive me, pregnancy brain. Your brother, Liam sent us. Elsa went into the hospital this afternoon, and as you know it’s too early for her to give birth.”

Killian’s eyebrows hit his hairline as the short woman continued to ramble a mile a minute.

“But don’t you worry yourself, Killian. Liam texted an hour ago and Elsa is a-ok, she was just experiencing some Braxton-Hicks. You know, fake contractions,” she elaborated when he cocked his head at the term.

“So, my brother sent you…” he paused hoping to get a name.

“Oh, I’m Mary Margaret Nolan, and this is my charming husband, David Nolan.”

Killian narrowed his eyes as he wondered why those names sounded familiar. Perhaps Liam had mentioned them before. He was still reeling from the fact that his sister-in-law was pregnant and his prat of a brother hadn’t thought to tell him. He was just extending his hand to shake David’s when a blonde firecracker rushed up to embrace him.  

“Miss me, babe?” she laughed before planting a kiss on his lips. Emma felt the pause behind Killian’s lips and pulled back. “You okay?”

“I... uh, I just met this charming couple here. Apparently my brother sent them in his stead as his pregnant wife went into the hospital.” Killian shook his head as he tried to reconcile why Liam wouldn’t have told him about the pregnancy.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Emma said as she whirled around to the couple Killian was gesturing to. “What are you guys doing here!?” Emma shouted excitedly.

Killian was about to reiterate that they were here in his brother’s place when a half second later, between Emma’s excited tone, David’s arms folded across his chest, and Mary Margaret’s gobsmacked expression, he realized just who this couple was and why their names had sounded familiar.  

The four of them just stood silently looking between themselves. Then everyone spoke all at once.

“How do you two know each other?”

“Wait! You guys are friends with Killian’s brother? No way!”

“How do you know my sister?”

“You are Emma’s brother and sister-in-law? No way!”

They all burst into laughter, save for David who was still scowling at Killian. The barista called for the next guest. The group stepped up to the register ordering hot beverages and sweet treats.  

“Why don’t we sit so we can hear all about how you two know each other,” Mary Margaret suggested once they had their purchases in hand. She was grinning from ear to ear, and her nose even wrinkled a bit she was so excited.

“Just for the record, some of us don’t want to hear… everything.”

“Oh, David!” Mary Margaret scolded, “She’s twenty-eight.”

“Her age doesn’t matter, she’s still my little sister!”

Killian chuckled lightly as he watched the couple, thinking they were charming indeed. Emma rolled her eyes at her brother. She wasn’t little anymore, she was a grown woman for crying out loud!

“Hey, the only one who takes care of me, is me,” Emma said with a raised eyebrow at her brother. “And before we go any further, I want to know how you guys know Killian’s brother.”

“Ooh, I can answer that! Liam’s wife, Elsa, and I teach together at the school. We met when she started a little over five years ago. She is just wonderful, she kind of filled the void left by my best friend leaving before I returned home from college.” Mary Margaret reached out and gave Emma a half hug, “It’s great to see you.”

Emma shifted her eyes downward, regret filling her because she hadn’t kept in better contact and visited more over the past ten years.  When Killian’s hand embraced hers under the table, she accepted the comfort he was offering.

“Anyhow, she and I became fast friends and started doing everything together. At some point we figured the boys should meet, too. At first they didn’t get along so famously, they tolerated each other for Elsa’s and my sake.”

“And why didn’t they get along?” Killian asked. “I imagine it’s because my brother is a stubborn arse of indescribable proportions?”

“Something like that,” David chuckled.

“Oh, they disagreed on everything! Which football is the real football, which MLB division is the best, how to barbecue a steak to perfection, who to get the best firewood from, they even argued about whose car got worse gas mileage.”

“That sounds like Liam,” Killian muttered at the same time Emma was chuckling about how very David-like this all seemed.    

“Well, they get along famously now. They like to team up against me and Elsa, and argue with us now!”   

             “It’s fun riling up pregnant, hormonal, women,” David laughed. “Now, enough about us. How did you two meet?”

“I picked him up in a bar and took him home,” Emma teased her brother, although, it was pretty much the truth. He didn’t need to know it was less than four full days ago.

“Come now, love, you make it sound so crass. There is a little more to it than that,” Killian added.

Emma gaped at him; surely he didn’t expect her to expound on any of their other enjoyable activities. “Oh, well, be my guest,” she prompted.

Killian held up his hand as if to count, all the while grinning at his audience. “Well we have been on quite a number of dates since you picked me up in that bar. Let’s see, there were several dinner dates, a lunch date, a breakfast date, the casino we hit, ice skating, and of course the best damn train ride ever.”

“Oh Emma! I’m so happy for you, why didn’t you tell me you’ve been seeing someone?”

“Well… it’s all been kind of a whirlwind! Time flies when you’re having fun.” She shrugged her shoulders and offered them a genuine smile, one indicative of just how happy she really was.  

That smile seemed to appease her brother, and of course Mary Margaret had been on board since the moment Emma had attack kissed him back in line. Squeezing Killian’s hand, she hoped he understood her thanks.

“Oh my gosh, I just can’t believe what a small world it is! I mean what are the odds that my sister-in-law would be dating my best friend’s brother-in-law? I couldn’t have planned it any better than if I’d set you up myself,” Mary Margaret effervesced.

Emma laughed out loud, because that is totally something Mary Margaret would have tried at every turn if given the opportunity. “Well, now you don’t have to, we found each other all on our own.”

Mary Margaret’s face clouded suddenly, “But, if you’re here to stay Killian, how are you two going to make a long distance relationship work?”

“I’ll let you answer that one, Swan.”

Emma beamed at her brother and sister-in-law. “I’m moving home,” she singsonged, “surprise… yay!” She raised her hands and wiggled her fingers enthusiastically for her announcement.          

“Eeeee!” Mary Margaret squeaked and then she was off, rambling about where they’d stay, where to spend the holidays, a car, a job…

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Emma interrupted. “How about we just start with the drive home to Storybrooke?” She stood up and grabbed her bag, and the rest of the table followed suit. Before they left the coffee shop, Emma uncharacteristically swept her sister-in-law and brother into a bear hug and told them how happy she was to be back home, they could catch up on the rest later.   

“My wife will have your wedding planned before you’ve proposed,” David chuckled to Killian as they headed toward the door.

“David!” Emma said, sounding scandalized. She couldn’t very well tell him to shut up because they’d just met, but she couldn’t stand idly by and let him be an annoying big brother.

“Relax, Swan,” Killian murmured, grasping her hand in his and lacing their fingers together. “I’m not proposing… yet.”

Mary Margaret actually clapped her hands like a two year old and jumped up and down, while David laughed at his sister’s reaction and his wife’s antics.     

Emma just blushed and giggled at this new territory she found herself in, one where she wasn’t afraid of anything involving her and Killian Jones.

On the ride home, Killian got a call from his brother, and after laying into Liam about hiding the pregnancy news, he let his brother speak. Killian learned that they would indeed be keeping up the Nolan - Jones tradition of volunteering in the soup kitchen on Christmas eve, as Elsa had been released after the false alarm. He was also told that his cottage was move in ready. When he asked why he wouldn’t just be taking over payments on the house Liam and Elsa owned, he got another surprise.    

“Honey!” Liam hollered into the phone. “Killian wants to know why he isn’t moving in to our house.”

“Move the phone before you yell, you wanker,” Killian grumbled.

“Hi Killian,” Elsa’s soft voice came through the line.

“Hello, El. I’m a bit perturbed with you as well. I can see Liam not thinking to mention to me that I have a niece or nephew on the way, but you?”

“Aww, don’t be sore, little brother, it was going to be a surprise when we picked you up at the station.”

“Younger.”

“Same difference,” she laughed, knowing it annoyed him to no end when he was called little brother. “And the reason you’re not taking our house is because we are staying in it.”

“You’re staying? Why’d you need me to come out then?”

“Because we needed our family. And you needed your family. Face it, you had no reason left to stay in England, and we hated seeing you devoted to nothing but work. You needed a change, a new beginning.”

Killian started to argue about their meddlesome ways and the fate of the business in England, but before he could, the hand twined with his twitched lightly. Emma had fallen asleep, head in his lap, and at some point she’d pulled his arm tighter around her middle, and interlocked their fingers. When he thought about the last four days, he realized he really should be thanking them for sticking their noses in his business, as opposed to complaining. “Aye, you’re right, but don’t tell Liam. I’d hate for the wanker to be smug all night.”

Elsa giggled. “You know he will find a way to annoy you anyway. Why not let it be about the beautiful woman you met while on your way to your new home per your brother’s request.”

Killian guessed there were worse things to have lorded over him by Liam. “Too right, lass.”     

“Is he done having his pissy fit?”

Killian could hear his arse of a brother in the background. “We’ll see you in a bit, El,” he told her, then hung up the phone before Liam had a chance to be Liam.   

~♥~

The evening could not have been any more surreal as Liam and Elsa were told of the connection between their best friends and their brother’s new girlfriend. It seemed about as picture perfect as it could get. Killian even got to see Emma in an apron as he had envisioned in Chicago. The service at the soup kitchen for Storybrooke and the surrounding cities had gone off without a hitch, and Emma had also gotten information on becoming a volunteer youth mentor. Seeing all the needy, she’d decided maybe it was time to try and make a difference in some young lives, as Ruth had made a difference in hers.  

At the end of the night, everyone got ready to part ways, until the following day for Christmas at the elder Jones’ home. There’d been a little arguing about where Emma should stay, mostly between Emma and her brother, who thought she should be staying with him and Mary Margaret. Emma had won that argument.

They’d gotten to Killian’s new home a little less than an hour before. After showering, they jumped into bed. The heat had kicked on, but the small, beachfront cottage was still a bit drafty.

“You looked adorable tonight with your little holiday apron on. Like a regular chef.” Killian gathered her up, attempting to warm them both as they waited for the sheets to adapt to their body temperature.    

Emma snorted at the last part. “I am about the farthest thing there is from a chef. I order delivery like a pro, pick up takeout like a champ, and will try any restaurant cuisine out there, but a chef, I am not.”

“Perhaps, we will have to remedy that.”

Emma turned in his arms to face him, narrowing her eyes playfully. “Oh, why, do you need a woman who can cook your meals, Jones? Perhaps I was wrong about you.”

“Ooh, you’re a tough lass. No, I do not need a woman to cook my meals. I merely meant we could cook together.” Killian leaned over her, crowding her space and pecking at her lips.

“You cook?” Emma shivered as he ran a hand up and down the side of her torso.

“Aye, I’ve dabbled a bit.” He licked the seam of her lips, seeking her tongue against his.

Emma could definitely imagine Killian barefoot in the kitchen creating all manner of delicious cuisine. He seemed just that refined. “I guess I’m not opposed to some cooking lessons,” she shoved Killian to his back then perched herself above him, one knee on each side of his hips, before adding, “with a hot teacher.”

Grasping both his hands in hers, Emma held them above is head and assailed his mouth. His surprised gasp allowed her entrance and she wasted no time thrusting her tongue against his. “I knew there was a reason we didn’t get dressed,” Emma murmured between kisses. Killian was hot and hard between her legs and she could already feel the flow of her own arousal as she started rubbing herself along his length.

Killian struggled against her hold, desperate to caress her anywhere. “Let me touch you.”

Emma relinquished her grip, holding on to the headboard instead. She was immediately rewarded with his hot palms on her breasts, cupping their weight.

Killian was mesmerized by her breasts as he ran his thumbs down each nipple. He repeated the action, mesmerized by the way her hardened peaks would spring upward after each pass. He moved them in circular motions, cock hardening evermore when she moaned his name.

Killian jerked his hips upward, “I want you, Emma.” He growled when she immediately reached a hand down to grab his cock so she could line him up. Just as he nudged her entrance, she slammed home with a desperate cry. Killian’s hands circled around to her ass, holding her in place.

Emma’s hands left where they’d been to rest on his chest as she adjusted. She wanted his mouth again, that talented tongue; she leaned down so she was laying flat against him. While she made out with him, she drew her fingers through his chest hair, pulling it lightly, each time she’d do so, she could feel his cock flexing within her walls. Biting his lip playfully, then giving him one last kiss, she sat back up so she could move. Emma withdrew slowly, savoring every inch of his cock as it caressed her from the inside.

Killian watched in rapt fascination as he disappeared into her soft flesh over and over, his cock glistening with her juices each time she rose. Her pace quickened as she continued to thrust, and he knew her thighs must be starting to burn with the strenuous tempo. Placing a hand on each hip, he helped her by lifting her body on the upstrokes and thrusting up into her on her downstrokes.

“I’m so close, Killian,” she panted.

“Touch yourself, Emma.”

Sucking three fingers into her mouth to wet them, Emma placed them upon her clit and massaged herself in time to the stroke of their hips.

“Oh, yes, just like that, love,” he groaned. She was quite breathtaking as she played with her cunt, and her breasts bounced with the force of her fucking him into oblivion.  

Barely able to keep herself upright as pleasure started to encompass her, Emma braced a hand against his chest. The pull of bliss finally snapped, and her insides contracted as her release washed through her. Uninhibited in the privacy of his bedroom, Emma moaned his name through her climax, wanting him to know he was the reason for her euphoria.

Killian watched, mesmerized as she came with his name on her lips. As her sated body began to relax, he flipped them quickly. He pinned her legs against his body, each arm wrapped around one of her thighs as he thrust hard and deep inside of her. He watched her beautiful face as she continued to have little pulsing climaxes, admiring the the shape of her lips, the flush of her cheeks, and the dilation of her pupils. The way she was looking at him though, lovingly, that’s what pushed him over the precipice. “Fuck, you make me come so hard, Emma,” he praised as he slumped against her.

“Same,” she whispered. “You really do have the best cock, ever.”

Killian sat up and looked at her seriously. “Don’t you mean I have a supercock amongst mere mortals?”

Emma laughed mirthfully. “Yes, I was just paraphrasing.”

After cleaning themselves up, they crawled back into bed, this time with only the intent of sleeping. Each reflected silently on all that had happened over the past four days; the fun, the passion, the connection - neither could quite fully fathom the serendipitous nature of their connection, not just to each other, but to the others surrounding their lives as well.

“Sweet dreams, love.”

“Night, Killian.”

“I can hear you thinking.”

“Hear me thinking?”

“In the tense of your body, what is it, darling?”

“I know we really didn’t discuss it, but is it okay that I’m staying here tonight?”

Killian threaded his fingers into her hair and kissed her lips lightly. “Of course, why would you ask such a thing?”

“Well, I mean, it’s just, I don’t want to impose myself into your new life. We haven’t really talked about how any of this is going to work.”

“First of all, Swan, you are in no way imposing, I both need and very much want you in my life. And second, we don’t need all the answers right now.”

She smiled as she realized the sentiment he’d expressed earlier that evening was true, they didn’t need all the answers right now.

Killian curled around her and closed his eyes, contented with his love in his arms. “We have from here to forever,” he added as he pulled her closer.   

Her mind raced as the words registered, but her heart delighted as she accepted the truth in the words as they pertained to them. “From here to forever,” she repeated, closing her eyes and snuggling into his embrace.     

@xhookswenchx @teamhook @xemmaloveskillianx @laschatzi @kmomof4 @branlovestowrite @resident-of-storybrooke @rubyrose82  @deathbycaptainswan @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @roseyflush @delightfully-difficult-pirate @effulgentcolors@captainswan-shipper88  adding a few more icymi @spartanguard @thislassishooked @demisexualemmaswan @hungrywhovianpotterheadfrom221b @ultraluckycatnd @artistic-writer @optomisticgirl @selfie-wench @jennjenn615 @let-it-raines @lifeinahole27 @this-too-too-sullied-flesh @wordsmith-storyweaver @yayimallamaagain

#cs ff #cs fanfic #cs smut #cs au #captain swan

[squidproquoclarice]

I had an arguably obvious realization dawn on me and now I'm in my feelings. if Arthur hadn't tasked Sadie with getting Abigail to safety, she would've followed him to the grave (or saved him, who knows?) and there wouldn't have been any stopping her. I think Arthur knew that in the end and had her keep her promise to get the Marstons out, making it impossible for her to chase death beside him. Thoughts?

Wrapping this into another Ask of “You make the scenario of Sadie coming back to bury Arthur and instead rescuing him easy to believe but why do you think it was Charles who said he came back to bury him in the Epilogue?  What happened that it wasn’t Sadie?”~~~~~~~~~~~~~I think Arthur knew that, and he didn’t want her to die alongside him.  He very visibly is trying to get her and Abigail to go, even as he’s saying goodbye, and he knows the charge of protecting a (presumably widowed) Abigail and a (presumably fatherless) Jack is one of the few things that can hold her back from a suicide run with him.  He respects and trusts her enough, as one of the people now dearest to him, to protect some of the others who are also dearest to him, and that says a lot about their relationship.  It also says a lot that he's unwilling to let her possibly die beside him.  He knows the pain she’s in, but he has to believe that unlike him, with this likely fatal disease, that she can and should live  That somehow, she’s strong enough to carry on, to find the best in herself again.  He doesn’t realize how much he means to her and how much this loss will devastate her, as we see in the Epilogue.Like I remarked with Javier, her sticking with him till the end might have changed things, although I think Javier and Arthur vs Micah and Dutch would have been a more powerful standoff that might have gotten through to Dutch.  Sadie’s a fucking badass gurl, but she’s new to the gang, and like it or not, Javier standing there would probably command more respect (despite, you know, Sadie actually leading the gang for a while there.)As to why it didn’t play that way in canon, I think what happened is a matter of timing.  In Sunrise I have Sadie, Tilly, Abigail and Jack wait overnight at Copperhead Landing to make some plans, and ride when it’s light out.  That could easily have gone the other way with Sadie and Abigail getting there, and getting the hell of Dodge a lot sooner with Jack and Tilly rather than risk Pinkertons catching up with them there.  John’s shrewd, and knowing they almost definitely wouldn’t go to St. Denis to catch the train, found them on the way to or actually in Rhodes the next morning.  It was an easier call for Sadie to make to go back for Arthur’s body when it was a couple hours to Beaver Hollow and beyond.  From Rhodes, it’s a lot longer ride, and I think the weight of the situation settled on her harder.  She’d already started to accept the numb reality of Arthur being dead, whereas in the middle of the night, she still had enough anger and determination to made that short ride back, risk being caught by Pinkertons, and do the right thing by him.  In the canon scenario, she let the others get on the train, and just headed west without much of a plan.  She just couldn’t face a long ride going back to see another man she cared about so much lying there dead.  He wouldn’t let her stay with him, so he wouldn’t want her to see that, right?  Though I think it kills her that she didn’t bury Jake, and didn’t bury Arthur either.  And FWIW, though I’ve remarked he didn’t die of TB given he was still fit enough to fight Micah and instead passed out from hypoxia and exhaustion, yes, I do think he would have been dead by morning from hypothermia.  Peacefully, at least.  So Sadie going back at that point, she really would have been burying him.I don’t think Charles had the chance to make the potential save on Arthur’s life.  Not that the willingness absolutely wouldn’t be there, like there is in Sunrise to help take care of him in those first days when he’s in truly terrible shape.  But he just doesn’t have that slim but golden critical opportunity that Sadie does of being within easy striking distance, and knowing exactly what the hell happened and when.  He’s at Wapiti, doesn’t know what’s going on with the gang, and is focused on the tribe’s welfare.  Which is right and proper and what Arthur wanted for him, but given he’s totally out of that loop, and would have no reason to go to Beaver Hollow at all, let alone that night, it places him outside that small window of being able to possibly save Arthur’s life.  So Charles coming back to bury him in that case is fitting and lovely and so poignant about the trust they have--John may be stressed hard as Arthur’s brother, but Charles clearly is his brother as well by the end of Chapter 6.  And it says a lot that he came back, maybe all the way from Canada, to bury him (and Susan) once he heard.     

#arthur morgan #sadie adler #charles smith #rdr2 #thank you for coming to my red talk #Anonymous

[shared-diaries-online]

Entry 8: A Tale of Three Michaels (Part 2)

November 20, 2018

 Dear “Diary,”

 The year is winding down. Slowly but surely. I don’t have any holiday plans, before you ask. I seldom do. The holidays don’t mean much to me anymore. Too many funerals for that. Did you know they pull from the same pot of energy? That might not be the best metaphor, but I guess you can understand what I’m talking about. Either you have a lot of holidays or a lot of funerals. I’ve never met someone who can manage to do both. But good for you if you happen to be that one in a million. It would be nice to meet you, but that hasn’t happened yet.

 Anyway, we need to go on with our tale, don’t we? The second Michael. That’s anti-climactic, but according to social media, that’s the overall theme of his entire life. Not to be undeservingly mean, but he was the type of person to peak at age 18, made that way through his own choices. Maybe if he didn’t spend so much of our high school years bowing down to a woman who only got into teaching to relive her own glory days and prepared some sort of direction for himself, then he wouldn’t be in this situation right now.

 Yeah, I’m relieved this never worked out. Ironically, that same teacher he served/worshiped was the one who singled me out as an “undesirable,” and did a fair bit to undermine my context specific progress. I don’t think being with Michael would have changed that. If anything, it would have made it worse. She was the jealous type.

 Now, let me just point out that it could have been worse. It was worse for so many other people. She didn’t like “otherness,” but she wasn’t consistent about her response to otherness. I got lucky. I wasn’t left in rest stops or openly ridiculed. I was just, well, her last choice for pretty much everything. But I was still on the roster. Or in the bus.

 But despite all the issues she left me with. That teacher isn’t a part of this story.

 ***

Sycophant Michael and I knew each other in middle school. He moved from the Midwest just before seventh grade and ended up in my science class. And I think we had something else together. But I can’t remember. Which feels odd to admit. I always swore I would never forget my school schedules, but while they might have held on longer than most, they are still gone. Just as gone as anyone could expect, I guess.

 But I remember science class because we were seated at the same pod of tables. We were in a lab group together, you see, for a few weeks at least. And it was just easier on our teacher and the rest of us to keep the pods together at all times.

 I was so happy. I was already in love with him by then. I’m not sure how long. Once again, my memory of that time is full of holes. I do remember the rush of excitement that came when our names were announced together, but not much else.

 I do remember that I had a friend who had computer class with him. (It was supposed to be a class about technological literacy, but it ended up being mostly about typing.) Back then, she used to go my Lily (or something to that end). She doesn’t use that name anymore. You don’t need to know what name she uses now. I don’t need to know what name she uses now.

 Lily and I had an on-and-off again friendship, as it were. And that’s entirely my fault. I wasn’t a great friend or really a good person, to be honest.

 Lily was one of the odd kids in school. First, as shallow as it is, she wasn’t conventionally beautiful in the face and had terrible posture from a bent spine that required a very obvious brace. Second, she loved anime and wore the related gear proudly like a tail and cat ears. Maybe that wasn’t anime-related, but she always said it was.

 In the middle school food chain, I wasn’t much higher than she was, and I was a bit too willing to throw her under the bus to keep it that way. If this is a defense… I did find her annoying largely because she always asked for a sip of my water during gym class only to drink half of the bottle in one gulp. Even if I lied and told her I was sick. This went on for a full year without fail, despite my repeatedly telling her that she needed to start bringing her own.

 It’s not a great reason to dislike someone you call a friend; it’s a valid reason to stop calling that person friend. But that’s not what I did. I kept her around when it was convenient and threw her aside when it was, using this one thing as justification.

I was almost thirteen and almost a fatherless child. Looking back, it’s almost like I was a different person. I wasn’t. But perception and reality can be hard to distinguish.

 This was a time when Lily and I were somewhat close. I don’t know why. The ups and downs were impossible to track even at the time. She just happened to be there when I burst. I loved Michael so much I couldn’t help but talk about him. And she was there to listen, ever the better friend that I was.

 It was her idea to tell him. Not mine. I was aware that he—like so many other people—found it annoying when I talked. I had a tendency to repeat myself, and I distinctly remember several conversations where he called me on it.

 “Of course I know/remember. You won’t let me forget,” he would say.

 It hurt. But my emotions weren’t his responsibility. Not in this way. And not that I deserve any degree of courtesy as a result of what I was doing to Lily.

 I think I only kept her around because of her connection to him: that common class after lunch when they would both come earlier than anyone else. They’d be alone together, and she had suggested using this time to gather more information on him and the things he likes. She offered, yes, but I didn’t have to take. I didn’t have to do Lily the injustice of gritting my teeth and “suffering” in her company just to inch closer to him. Just for the sake of a love affair that would likely mean nothing.

 But I was willing to do it, and it wasn’t that I was blinded by love or anything like that. I just thought so little of Lily. And I never apologized for it.

 After a few weeks, Lily pushed me to let her tell him about my feelings during that small window when they were alone. I resisted at first, but I felt confident that it would work out, that I was meant for him. Largely because, we were the only two people of any color in our grade, and matching things go together, right? It’s a dumb thought, but I didn’t have any other mindset to consider.

 And so, I relented, but I don’t remember what I was expecting. I do remember what she told me happened.

 She walked up to him and his best friend who just happened to tag along and said, “Guess who has a crush on you?”

 He guessed it on the first try but was still dismayed with the answer.

 And really? He was right. I wasn’t worth it, not when you consider the kind of person I was being to Lily.

 If this damaged our relationship, I don’t remember. By then, Dad’s health took another turn, and that consumed all my thoughts. Beyond that, I just remember Lily and how I treated her. We’re friends on a gaming system, but that’s hardly a connection. I should do something. I need to do something, even a quick apology over text chat is better than nothing, but I can’t.

 It’s so hard to own up to your own failings. In any context. It stings, yes, but that’s a fitting punishment. In its absence, I guess I’ll have to endure so much more. It’s a trap I can pull myself out of. Or I should be able to pull myself out of it. But I can’t. I really can’t.

  Digitally yours,

Alex.

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#romance #love story #creative writing #fiction #original work #original content #original story #fiction writing #writing #writeblr #love

[livel0veliv]

Woman's Lifestyle

First let me reiterate that I believe that everything we need to know about the way God wants us to live our lives no matter the role is outlined in the Bible and that anything that contradicts the Word of God isn't sound.

Men's clothing for example, the Bible makes it clear that women shouldn't wear men's clothing. It doesn't say anything about pants. Pants aren't men's clothing, they are a type of clothing article, just like skirts and both articles over time have been worn by both genders. So you can miss me with that mess, but I was a tomboy growing up. Didn't like skirts, they didn't feel secure and they weren't practical, not the best thing to run in, if you needed you run away without showing all of your lady parts. But now in my 30s, yes 30s upon reading through the Bible I find myself not getting clothes in the men's department, unless it is a hoodie, [men's hoodies are made better]. But I loved rocking ties, suspenders, dress shirts, hoop shorts, etc for comfort and it was just apart of my style. But If I'm being obedient to the Word of God I have done away with that. I'm finding the cuts of t-shirts for women to be more flattering to my body. Jeans too, lol. God in His wisdom. The Bible also calls women to be modest and while I hate that I can't find a long, lose pair of shorts, I do appreciate the length of these workout pants that hug all of my curves and I don't necessarily have to shave just to workout, finding an oversized, long t-shirt proves difficult to cover up my large backside, I'm not married. Not every man or women needs to know what I'm working with!

Anyways that's just one example of how the Bible has shown wisdom in an area like fashion, and if you're a fashion designer reading this PLEASE create more flattering but modest and LOOSE workout gear for ya girl. Thank you.

My father made it VERY clear that he was not going to give my then boyfriend the blessing for marriage. You see because not only was he not able to provide the lifestyle I had grown accustomed to. I couldn't provide that lifestyle for myself, being a freelance designer. In Biblical times women lived with their father until marriage. These men went off, prepare themselves for marriage, had land, a job, a home built, BEFORE courting. Because fathers weren't going to hand their daughters over to a man who couldn't atleast provide what he could. What would the point be? Plus why would father's provide for two people moving forward when it is his obligation to only take care of his daughter?

Father's do a huge disservice to their daughters when they don't make sure the man can take care of her.

We live in a time and age where women can work and thrive and live on their own. My father said that if I find myself where I can't do this to come back home. Because it is the same principle, I am my father's responsibility until I get married. So as long as I can do for myself what he can do for me, I'm good.

I'm happy to say that for the past 9 months I have been living in a way where I can not only provide that lifestyle. I am living a life better than my childhood dreams aimed for. Hopefully starting next year I can live a life on my own where I can possibly take care of a child...financially. I'm not pregnant or anything but I hope to be married and with children one day.

And if I don't get married I would like to adopt a house riddled with fostered teens. Teenagers are dope, and those in the fostercare system need so much love and guidance.

I say all of this to state that, until I can do for myself what I want to see bare minimum in my marriage, I have no business getting married. My father sees the kind of lifestyle I've created for myself, he won't let a man come in providing less.

A man's role is to show his wife how best she can serve him, show her the ropes, teach her the business, show her a better life. Taking care of the home is one thing, being his help-mate is only something I can learn from him.

You can see it and read it, this interaction between husband and wife throughout the Bible.

If you do your research on history of that time. You will come to understand that even men having multiple wives while it was not every okayed by God or made a law, God allowed it because there were significantly less men who could provide the right lifestyle for a woman. So those who could, could take multiple wives, because women couldn't have their own jobs. Now that women can, there is no excuse. One man, one wife. These women can take care of themselves, or they need to go back home.

There is less concern for a widow because the Bible makes it clear that a godly wife should remain skillful with her hands. God doesn't support lazy wives. So as a woman, if you're husband dies, in this day and age, you have no excuse for not working.

Since we come to despise that which goes against the Word of God, I despise this mentality of women going to college just to find a mate. This mentality of marrying a man who doesn't have his life and finances in order, the whole "starting from the bottom". This mentality of marrying your best friend (not Biblical) when you need to meet someone already ready to commit to marriage and I don't mean marriage to you in particular but committed to being married PERIOD before he courts you. This mentality of just being a wife and not a mother, when the second reason ever stated for a union of marriage was to birth children. The first being that man shouldn't be alone, so he gave us, women, to be a help-mates.

I'm not going to even think about entering into courting until I want to get married and I want to be a mother.

I enjoy my freedom, so I won't be courting anytime soon.

Also

If you're a female, whose father was never in the picture, or is no longer with us. Find a great home church, one that will look out for you. According to the Bible when a father dies, it falls upon the church to take care of the fatherless and widows. Before you court someone, have adopted and spiritual parents in your life, even if you live away from your father this is sooo important that they really know you and your life to figure out if a man is a good match for you. Also when you need help moving or need help with funds the church should be there to help, to send fellow brothers-in-Christ to move those boxes, for example. Church isn't just were you go to praise and serve, they should have your back. If they don't, go find a new church. One that can. A church is suppose to serve their own congregation.

Enjoy the season of singleness, it is a blessing!

#women #women of God #single