#cs cart

[coyoteman1142]

CS Lewis deserves an apology. Tolkien dared get pissed about Santa showing up when Gandalf's firework cart exists?

[wisitechinfosolutions]

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[wholoveseggs]

Pretender

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Daemon Targaryen X Reader} Working in a brothel was never easy, but when a man claiming to be the prince comes to visit, it can be downright dangerous.

7.5k words - Warnings: smut, whore!reader, mild dubcon, oral sex m!receiving, face fucking, riding, ffm threesome, rough sex, mentions of rape, graphic violence, choking, gold cloaks, deception & Daemon being Daemon...

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡♡ Hey! If you don't want to be tagged in Daemon fics just let me know! He's a much different character than Elijah & I don't wish to waste your time ♡♡

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @spideysbabe @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer

There were far worse fates than being a whore. If it meant that you were able to make it another day in this world, you were willing to do it. Even if that meant selling yourself for a few crowns.

It wasn't all bad, there were some who treated you with kindness and respect, others who didn't, and some who weren't even sure how to treat a woman. They were the ones you felt most sorry for, the ones who just wanted to feel a bit of kindness and were too afraid to go and get it from elsewhere. Or simply had nowhere else to turn.

Tonight was one of the quieter nights. Most of the men were either gone or asleep. You could hear the low murmurs of the few that were still awake, soft moans from the rooms next to you as they had their fun. The smell of sweat and sex hung heavy in the air, it had become something you'd grown accustomed to over the years.

You were lounging around with the other girls, laughing and talking as the night dragged on, when you heard the sound of hooves against the dirt outside, and the creak of a cart.

One of the girls, named Lina, came stumbling in, she was extremely drunk, almost tripping over herself as she tried to regain her balance. Her dress was askew and her hair was messy.

This was a common occurrence for her these days, ever since her man had died she had thrown herself into a bottle, trying to forget. You couldn't blame her for it, she was in pain and she needed an escape, you just wished that her solution didn't cause such destruction.

She plopped down onto the floor next to you and laid her head in your lap. "You're always so warm and soft, just like a pillow" she giggled and rubbed her head into you, like a cat seeking comfort.

You softly ran your fingers through her hair, untangling the knots as best you could. "How are you feeling, sweetie?"

"I feel great," she slurred. "Any work?"

"Not at the moment, no" you sighed.

"That's a shame," she said, looking up at you with big, sad eyes. "I'm low on coin,"

"We all are," said another of the girls, a pretty blonde girl by the name of Kari. She was less sympathetic to Lina's situation than you were.

"If you don't have coin, then leave. Don't stay here and take up our space," she snapped.

"Kari" you hissed, trying to get her to back off, but she ignored you.

"What? I'm right" she scoffed.

You were interrupted by a group of men entering the brothel, loud and obnoxious. They were all dressed in fine clothes, reeking of alcohol and crowns, just what you had been waiting for.

Lina was instantly on her feet, swaying a little but keeping her balance as she walked over to greet the newcomers.

"What can I help you with, my lords?" she asked, her voice a low purr as she batted her eyelashes.

Kari gave you a pointed look and went off to tend to another customer, leaving you alone to deal with the new arrivals.

They all looked like typical nobility. Clean-shaven and dressed in silk. You had a good eye for these sorts of things. It was easy to spot the difference between a merchant and a noble, and these men were definitely nobles.

They were also clearly drunk, slurring their words and stumbling around the place, laughing at everything.

Lina was already leading two of the men away, no doubt eager to earn a few coins and keep her drinking habits intact.

You turned your attention to the man standing to the side of the group. He was tall and slender, with fair skin and long blonde hair. His eyes were a piercing blue, like two pools of ice.

He smiled at you and stepped forward, extending a hand towards you. "Have you ever had a prince before?" he asked, his voice low and smooth.

You took his hand and returned his smile. "No, my lord, I can't say I have,"

You have heard many men claim to be one noble or another, sweet little lies they tell you as a way to seem important. It mattered very little to you, they were all the same when it came down to it.

Kari came sauntering back into the room, her dress slipping off her shoulder as she walked. She looked over at you and the blonde man and raised an eyebrow.

You smiled at her and leaned in closer to the man. "Kari, this one is a prince, isn't he handsome?"

Kari's eyes widened and she let out a small gasp, bowing dramatically, her dress slipping even further down her chest, revealing her cleavage.

"Prince Daemon Targaryen," he announced, his chest puffed out.

"I've never met a prince before," she said, her voice filled with awe. She was over doing it just a little, and you had to fight the urge to laugh at her performance.

"Oh, but I can change that," he replied, a smirk on his face.

Kari grinned and wrapped her arms around him, pressing her body against his.

"I'm sure you can," she whispered, her breath hot against his ear.

His other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his side.

You felt a tingle run down your spine, he was quite handsome and you could see the appeal of bedding a prince, even if you didn't actually believe his claim.

"Why don't we all get comfortable," he said, his voice low and deep.

You and Kari exchanged glances, grinning at each other, rich men usually pay well.

 The two of you led the prince up the stairs, his arm still wrapped around you, his hand resting on your hip. The three of you entered the room, the door slamming shut behind you. He wasted no time in grabbing hold of Kari and kissing her, his hands roaming her body.

You watched with fascination as the two of them kissed and touched each other, their bodies moving together. Without looking at you, he reached out and grabbed you, pulling you towards him and kissing you passionately.

"Double the pleasure, double the coin, my prince," Kari stated gently, breaking the kiss and stepping away from him. She was always keen on making the payment clear, before the fun could begin.

"Are you questioning my generosity?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Kari shook her head. "No, of course not. I would never do such a thing,"

You nodded in agreement.

The man looked at the two of you, a slight smile on his face. "Do you think a prince cannot afford two whores?" he asked, his tone playful.

You smiled at him, "No, we know you can," and you hoped that you were right.

He grinned and kissed you again, a little more aggressive this time. He nipped at your bottom lip, his teeth grazing against the sensitive skin.

"Kneel for your prince," he commanded, his voice firm.

You and Kari exchanged amused looks, then both kneeled before him. She began to untie the laces of his trousers while you looked up at him with innocent eyes, your tongue running across your bottom lip.

"What's it like? To ride a dragon," you asked him, genuinely curious.

"Like nothing else," he replied.

You could tell that he was getting impatient, his eyes darkening with lust. His hand ran through your hair, gripping it tightly and pulling your head back.

"Suck," he ordered, and you obeyed, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock. You slowly took more of him into your mouth, using your tongue to pleasure him.

"Gods, that feels amazing," he moaned, his hips bucking forward.

He was rough and demanding, but it was nothing you and Kari couldn't handle. You continued to suck and lick him, while she stroked him and kissed his thighs.

The two of you worked in tandem, bringing him to the edge and then pulling him back. You could feel him growing more and more frustrated, his hand gripping your hair tighter.

Finally, he could take it no longer, he grabbed Kari by the hair and pushed his cock all the way to the back of her throat. His hand pressed against the top of her head as he fucked her mouth hard.

She gagged and coughed, but still tried her best to please him. You could see her discomfort and you slowly stood up, kissing his neck and touching his chest, trying to calm him down.

After a few more moments, he released her, shoving her back. She fell back on the floor, coughing and sputtering.

He was breathing heavily, his eyes wild. Without a word, he pulled down your dress, revealing your naked form beneath. He was on you in an instant, pushing you down onto the bed and climbing on top of you, his hands on your throat.

Your head spun, and the room seemed to grow hazy as the pressure on your throat increased. He parted your legs with his knee and pressed himself inside you, groaning with pleasure as he buried his cock deep within you.

He was a wild man, taking you roughly, with no thought of your own comfort or pleasure. Grunting and growling like an animal as he claimed you. You could feel the tears pricking your eyes as his hand tightened around your throat.

"How does it feel to fuck a dragon?" he asked, his face mere inches from yours. You couldn't reply, his hand still holding your windpipe in a vice-like grip. His eyes were cold and calculating, the passion of a moment ago now gone.

You scratched at his wrists, but he just laughed, slamming into you with a savage ferocity. He was like a beast, taking you for all you were worth.

When men were rough like this, a part of you would disappear inside yourself. You would no longer feel as if it was you who were being manhandled, the parts of your body no longer connected to your mind.

You could smell his sweat, feel his hands on you, hear the low rumbles of his voice, but you were no longer here. Your body was simply an object, a vessel, and your mind had retreated somewhere far away, watching from the shadows.

Kari had composed herself enough to join the two of you on the bed. She climbed behind you, running her hands along your body. You were just lying there, allowing yourself to be used, but Kari's touch was a small comfort.

He slammed into a few more times before climbing off of you and grabbing Kari, flipping her on her stomach, pinning her down. He wasted no time entering her, thrusting in and out like an animal, the sound of slapping flesh filling the room.

You lay there, listening to the sounds of the two of them, trying to make sense of things. He didn't last long, men like this rarely did. After a few minutes, he let out a strangled groan and pulled out, his seed spilling out onto her back.

He rolled off of her, panting and laughing to himself, a satisfied grin on his face. She sat up and brushed some hair from her sweat-soaked forehead, looking over at you.

She crawled towards you and wrapped her arms around you, kissing your cheek gently. Her hand intertwining with yours. The two of you had certainly experienced worse customers than him. He didn't appear unhappy with what you did. You were fortunate in that sense.

"I shall take you both on my dragon, fuck you on his back while we fly," he said, a wicked grin on his face.

You had no idea how one would manage to do such a thing, but you were certain he was just trying to impress you.

"That would be something," Kari replied, a smile on her lips.

He was sitting there, his hand lazily stroking his cock as he watched the two of you. "Kiss," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You and Kari exchanged a look, then leaned in and kissed each other, the feeling of her soft lips against yours making your heart skip a beat.

He was watching the two of you with rapt attention, his eyes dark and hungry. He reached out and pulled you away from her, his lips crashing down onto yours. His hands roamed your body, his touch rough and demanding.

"That's a good girl," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

He grabbed a tankard of wine from the nightstand, drinking it down and tossing it aside. You observed the muscles on his back, the way they flexed in the dim light, you could see long scars down his back. They looked like the marks caused by a whip, you knew the scars well, having seen them on many of the men and women in the brothel.

"My Prince, forgive me, but those scars, where did they come from?" you asked, unable to contain your curiosity.

He flinched at your question, not looking at you. "Tourneys," he said sharply, bending over and grabbing his shirt from the floor.

You didn't press the issue, he clearly didn't want to talk about it.

He pulled his shirt on, the silk material stretching over his muscular frame. Then he collapsed onto the bed, pulling you down with him, wrapping his arm around you.

You looked at him and saw a haunted look in his eyes, the same look that many of the others in the brothel had. He was running from something, or someone.

"Call me your prince and tell me you love me," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

"Of course, my prince," you replied, and the words felt hollow.

"I love you my prince," Kari purred, cuddling up to him.

"Yes, I know you do," he said, his eyes glazing over.

The two of you stayed with the prince all night, his talk turning into ramblings, bragging about dragon riding, flying in the clouds, great battles and tourneys he had won. He talked of nothing but how good he had it, how great he is, of all the wonderful things he owned.

While it was not the worst experience you'd had, it wasn't a pleasant one either. Kari kept encouraging him to keep bragging, praising him and showering him with compliments. All you wanted was to close your eyes and drift off to sleep, but his obnoxious voice made it nearly impossible.

By the time the sun came up, he was fast asleep. His snoring so loud you were sure he was going to wake up the rest of the brothel. 

You and Kari were counting the coin he had given you, making sure it was all there. It wasn't as much as you were expecting, considering his claims of royalty. But you'd make do, it'd tide you over for a while. You would certainly sleep comfortably tonight.

Although he was Prince Daemon, you didn't want to fuck him again, not for any amount of coin. If he returned to visit, you would simply make yourself scarce.

Much to your disappointment the prince had turned into a regular at the brothel. At least once a week he would return, bringing with him a small fortune and a lot of drink.

Lina was very pleased, she was the one he favored most of all. And as long as she was getting her coins, she was happy. You supposed she was too numb from drink to feel the pain or humiliation of his treatment.

You and Kari, on the other hand, were less enthusiastic about the prince's presence. Always trying your best to avoid him, finding ways to keep yourselves occupied while he was there.

But you had a feeling that he knew what the two of you were doing, and that you were avoiding him. He didn't seem upset by it, but there was a look in his eye that made you nervous.

He was in the main room tonight, with Lina in his lap, the two of them drunkenly talking about who knows what. But his eyes were on you, and it made your skin crawl.

You quickly got up and looked for a place to hide, not wanting to be caught in his sights. He was a dangerous man, you could sense it, and you had no interest in being alone with him.

You made your way through the halls, between tapestries of silk and dimly lit rooms, keeping your head down. It was almost too easy to disappear here, to find the dark corners and hide away from the world.

You weren't looking where you were going, and you found yourself crashing into someone.

"Sorry, sorry," you muttered, moving to continue walking.

You felt a hand grip your arm, and you looked up at a man dressed in dark clothing, a hood covering his face. There was an air of danger around him, the way he held himself was confident and commanding.

He looked you over, his gaze roaming over your body. From what you could see of his face, he was handsome, with a strong jawline and sharp features. His hair was blonde, resting on his shoulders.

"No need to apologize, little dove," he said, his voice deep and rich.

His hand slid down your arm, his fingers brushing against yours. "Come, let's have a drink," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

You nodded, grateful for any excuse to get away from the prince. You could also do with some extra coin, and this man seemed willing to pay.

He followed you to one of the private rooms, the curtains hanging around the bed were a soft blue, the room dimly lit by candles.

He gently leaned his sword against the wall, his fingers tracing over the hilt. It had an odd looking pommel, the metalwork intricate, the hilt the shape of a gold dragon.

He turned and sat on the bed, his hood falling down, revealing his face.

He was handsome, his blonde hair tumbling over his shoulders, his eyes sharp and bright. He was tall and lean, with a muscular build.

"So, what brings you to a place like this?" you asked, standing in front of him.

"Curiosity," he replied, reaching out and pulling you into his lap.

You gasped, your face inches from his. He smirked, his fingers wrapping around the silk ribbon around your waist, untying it. The thin dress fell open, revealing your chest.

"You are a pretty thing," he whispered, his eyes raking over your body.

You blushed, your heart beating faster. You were used to men commenting on your looks, but something about the way he said it made you feel warm.

"I bet you tell all the girls that," you teased, your hand reaching out and resting on his chest.

"I bet you pretend to enjoy it," he countered.

"And if I do?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He laughed, his fingers tracing the curve of your neck.

"I'll know the difference," he said, leaning in, his breath ghosting over your lips.

"Is that so?" you whispered, a smile tugging at your lips.

He chuckled, his other hand coming up and resting on your lower back. He pulled you closer, his lips brushing against yours.

He was surprisingly gentle, his lips soft, his hands caressing your body. He kissed you like a lover, not like a man who was paying for a whore.

You melted into his touch, your hands moving up and tangling in his hair. He groaned, his fingers digging into your skin.

You knew the brothel had men of all shapes and sizes, some kinder, others rougher, but he was a different breed altogether. You were enjoying yourself in a way you never had before.

"See? You're not pretending,"he whispered against your lips.

You laughed softly, your eyes fluttering open, looking into his. He was staring at you with such intensity, it made your heart skip a beat.

He smiled at you, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin. You could feel the warmth of his body, the strength of his arms around you.

"What kind of men do you usually entertain?" he asked, his lips moving to your neck.

"All kinds," you replied, letting him undress you, the silk pooling at your waist. "From beggars to princes," you said.

"Princes, hmm? I suppose a prince would have more coin than most," he said, gently cupping your breasts, his thumbs grazing over your nipples.

"Some," you replied, trying to keep your breathing steady. “The prince does come here often. Although he is not the most agreeable of men," you explained.

"You know a lot about the prince?" he asked, his lips grazing against the shell of your ear.

"Indeed, he told me he would show me his dragon," you said, smiling, tracing your finger down his chest, playing with the hem of his shirt. "Caraxes, is it's name," you added, taking hold of his shirt and pulling it off.

"Oh? That's an interesting promise," he replied, his lips pressing kisses along your shoulder, his teeth nipping at the soft skin.

"He said I could ride it too," you said, feeling his lips curve into a smile against your skin.

"I'm sure you would be more than capable," he breathed, his nose brushing over the curve of your neck. "Perhaps you can practice on me," he murmured.

You giggled, a warmth blooming between your legs. He was handsome and charming, his touch gentle, he knew what he was doing. His hands moved over your skin, leaving a trail of heat wherever they went.

You shifted on his lap, feeling his arousal pressing against you. "Is that so?" you asked, your lips ghosting over his.

"Mmm," he groaned, his eyes darkening, his lips claiming yours.

His hand cupped the back of your neck, holding you close. You could taste the sweetness of the wine on his tongue, his kiss full of passion and desire. Your hands went to his breeches, unlacing them and pulling out his cock.

You stroked him, feeling the velvety skin beneath your fingers. He groaned, his lips breaking away from yours.

"If I were to ride you, I'm not sure I would be able to walk away afterwards," you whispered, looking down at him.

"Maybe that's my plan," he said, as his hand slipped between your legs.

You gasped, the pleasure rippling through your body. You had a feeling this was going to be the best coin you had ever earned. It was always a nice treat when you could be with a man that you actually enjoyed touching.

"You're bigger than most of the other men I've had," you purred, running your hand up and down his length.

"I bet you say that to all the men," he teased, his fingers dipping into your cunt, feeling the wetness there.

"I'll say whatever you want me to," you said, kissing his neck, his jawline.

"Such a sweet little liar," he said, his hand cupping your cheek, tilting your head up.

You looked at him, your eyes meeting his. They were a deep blue, almost purple. There was a gentleness to them, but also a fire.

"Am I bigger than the prince?" he asked, a playful smirk on his lips.

"Would it be treason to say yes?" you whispered, your teeth grazing his earlobe.

"I won't tell him," he said, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss.

You smiled into the kiss and slowly rocked your hips, rubbing your slit against the underside of his cock. He groaned, his hands gripping your waist, his thumbs brushing over your hip bones.

You pulled away from the kiss, sitting up slightly and lining his cock up with your pussy. You sank down onto him, keeping your eyes locked with his.

You began to ride him, slowly at first, then you increased the pace. He let out a low groan and his hands squeezed your ass, helping you bounce on his cock.

You leaned down, capturing his lips in another passionate kiss. Your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.

You pulled away from the kiss and rested your forehead against his.

"Fuck," he hissed, his fingers digging into your thighs.

You let out a breathless laugh and began to ride him faster, grinding down onto his cock. You could feel his length pulsing inside of you, his breath hot against your neck.

He suddenly flipped you into your back, your hair splayed out across the pillows. He grabbed your thighs and pushed your legs back, sinking his cock inside you once more.

You moaned, feeling him pound into you. He leaned down and captured your lips in another kiss, his tongue invading your mouth. Your hands went to his arms, they were made of pure muscle, the corded veins bulging under his pale skin.

His hips started to falter, a sure sign he was close to his release. He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he let out a low and desperate groan. You could feel his cock throb as his seed filled you.

"I can see why the prince likes you," he said, a small smile on his face as he rolled off of you.

You chuckled, moving to cuddle up next to him.

"Oh? What makes you say that?" you asked, nuzzling into his chest.

"The way you fuck," he said, his lips curling up into a smirk. "It's truly fit for royalty,"

You giggled and buried your face into his chest, the smell of his sweat mixed with sex intoxicating.

"You are a far better lover than him, perhaps living up in a castle all his life has spoiled him," you said, tracing patterns on his chest.

He smiled, his arm wrapping around your waist, his thumb rubbing circles over your skin.

"I don't even know your name," you whispered, your hand reaching up and stroking his cheek.

"It doesn't matter now, does it?" he asked, his voice low and soft.

You watched him, wondering why a man would pay for a whore when he could easily get a woman willing. But then again, you knew the type of men who came to a place like this, perhaps he was married, or didn't have time for courtship.

He sat up and poured himself a cup of wine, the dark liquid spilling into the glass. He took a sip, then handed it to you.

"Thank you," you said, sitting up and taking a drink, the taste of wine sweet on your lips.

He leaned in and kissed you passionately. You hummed softly and cupped his cheek, his stubble scratching your palm.

He moved off the bed and grabbed his shirt, pulling it over his head. He picked up his sword, strapping the sheath to his belt.

You laid back, propping yourself up by your elbows as you watched him dress. He looked at you, a smirk on his face.

"You look lovely like that," he said, his voice a low purr.

You nodded in thanks, giving him a gentle smile and watched him pull out his coin purse.

"Keep the change," he said, tossing the bag onto the bed.

"Thank you, ser," you said, watching him walk out the door.

"Ser," he chuckled. "I am no ser," he said, looking back at you one last time before shutting the door.

The following evening was a busy one, you had spent most of the night serving drinks, the men rowdy and full of ale.

The drunker they got, the more coin they would spend, but that also came with its risks. Some of the men would become violent, the women in the brothel would often have bruises, sometimes it would be a black eye or busted lip.

You had gotten good at handling the rowdy customers, a few sweet words and a soft touch was enough to keep most men docile.

You hadn't seen Lina since yesterday, which was odd, usually she was down here, drinking and entertaining the men.

"Have you seen Lina?" You asked Kari, who was collecting a number of empty tankards.

"She's probably passed out in some room, drunker than a sailor," Kari replied, shaking her head.

You frowned, that didn't seem right. Lina had a habit of drinking, but never enough to not show up for work.

Kari could see the concern on your face and placed her hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently.

"Don't worry about her, she'll be fine," she said, giving you a reassuring smile.

"What if Prince Daemon comes in? I do not wish to deal with him," you whispered.

"Then don't," she said, pouring herself a glass of wine.

"I cannot refuse him, he would make my life a living hell," you sighed.

"Then you best stay out of his way," Kari said, patting your shoulder.

You nodded, but knew that was easier said than done. If he showed up tonight, you were sure to run into him.

You continued to serve drinks, doing your best to avoid the more aggressive customers. You felt a hand grip your wrist, and turned to see one of the regulars.

"Come sit on my lap pretty girl," the man said, tugging on your wrist.

You smiled sweetly and sat down on his lap, resting your arm on his shoulder.

"How have you been, my love?" you asked, batting your lashes.

"Better now that you're here," he said, his hand resting on your knee, his fingers rubbing circles on the inside of your thigh.

"That's sweet," you said, trying not to flinch at his touch.

You leaned in and whispered into his ear, "What can I do for you tonight?"

He smirked, his hand sliding further up your thigh, he looked over your shoulder and paused. His eyes were fixed on something behind you, his expression one of shock and disgust.

You turned to see Lina stumbling through the main room, her hair a mess, her clothes torn, blood trickling down from a wound on her head.

She was muttering incoherently, her eyes wild and unfocused. She stopped in the middle of the room, looking around, a terrified expression on her face.

"Lina?" You immediately got off the man's lap and rushed to her side, placing your hand on her shoulder.

She screamed, slapping your hand away and staggering back. Her eyes were wide, her breathing heavy, she was looking at you as if you were a stranger.

"Lina, it's me," you said, trying to calm her.

She shook her head, backing away, her eyes darting around the room.

"You're alright," you said, stepping towards her.

She raised her hands in front of her, as if trying to shield herself from something. You could see the bruises on her wrists and her hands were trembling.

You reached out to her, but she flinched, moving away from you. She backed into a table, knocking over a tray of drinks.

The noise drew the attention of the patrons, everyone was staring at her, murmuring to each other.

You grabbed her arm, gently leading her to the stairs. She let you lead her, her body tense, her breathing rapid.

You opened the door to her room and led her inside. You could see the dried blood and cum on her thighs, and the tears in her clothes.

"What happened to you, Lina?" you asked, but she remained silent, her gaze fixed on the floor.

You went to the washbasin and dampened a cloth, sitting next to her on the bed. You began to clean the dried blood from her face, gently wiping the cloth over her bruised skin.

"You are safe now," you said, trying to soothe her.

"It was him," she suddenly said, her voice quiet and strained.

"Him who?" you asked, dipping the cloth back into the water, the blood turning it pink.

"Prince Daemon," she said, her voice cracking.

Your eyes widened, the cloth slipping from your fingers and landing in the basin with a wet splash.

"Daemon did this to you?" you asked, a pit of anger forming in your stomach.

Lina nodded, tears streaming down her face, her body shaking. "You mustn't tell anyone, he will kill me," she cried.

"Lina, I...," you trailed off, unsure of what to say.

You wrapped your arms around her and held her close, letting her cry into your shoulder.

"I'm sorry," you said, your voice breaking.

She pulled away, her eyes red and puffy, her lips quivering.

You felt your chest tighten, a wave of rage and despair washing over you. Daemon was a vile, evil man, and the fact that he had hurt Lina, filled you with an overwhelming anger.

You clenched your fists, feeling your nails dig into your palms, a stinging pain spreading over your skin.

"I... I lost all my coin...He took it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You wondered why a prince would bother stealing coins from a common whore, surely he had enough coin of his own.

"You can have whatever I earn tonight," you said, your tone serious.

"You don't have to do that," she said, shaking her head.

"Of course I do, you would do it for me," you said, gently cupping her cheek.

She nodded, her eyes glistening with fresh tears.

"Stay here, get some rest," you said, helping her lay down.

She pulled the blanket up to her chin, curling up into a ball, her body still trembling. You left the room, closing the door quietly behind you.

You walked back down to the main room, a burning rage coursing through your veins. You spotted Daemon, sitting at a table, drinking wine and laughing with a group of men.

You wanted to confront him, to pour hot tar over his head and watch him scream and writhe in pain. You looked around the room for a weapon, anything you could use to inflict harm upon him.

Your eyes landed on a serving tray, you picked it up, the metal cool against your palm. You were about to do something rash, something you couldn't come back from, when the man from last night caught your attention.

He was sitting at a table by himself, nursing a drink. He was wearing the same leathers as last night, and his sword was strapped to his hip.

He looked up, as if he could feel your gaze on him, and gave you a small smile. He gestured for you to come over.

You placed the tray back on the table, and walked over to him. You needed the coin for Lina, and he felt nice and smelled good, it would be a pleasant distraction.

"Back so soon?" you asked, swallowing your rage and fear, turning it to soft words and flirty touches.

You sat down on his lap, wrapping your arm around his shoulders, kissing his cheek and smiling sweetly.

"I missed you," he said, his hand going to your waist.

"Liar," you whispered, a playful smirk on your lips.

He laughed, the sound deep and rich, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He looked around the room then back to you, his gaze roaming over your body.

"Shall we?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

"Yes," you replied, sliding off his lap and taking his hand.

He followed you to the stairs, his hand on the small of your back. You glanced over your shoulder at Daemon, a scowl on your face as you walked away from the opportunity to harm him.

You quickly led the man to your room, shutting the door and leaning against it, letting out a sigh.

"Are you alright?" He asked, setting his sword down and untying his shirt.

"Fine," you said, watching him undress.

His chest was pale and well muscled, his body lean and strong. He looked up at you, a playful smirk on his lips.

"Lying once again," he said, unbuckling his belt.

"My friend was attacked," you said, walking over to him, running your hands over his bare chest.

"I am sorry to hear that," he said, his gaze focused on you, his hands reaching up to cup your face.

"She was beaten and raped by Prince Daemon," you said, leaning into his touch, his calloused palms rough against your cheeks.

He stiffened at that, but just for a moment, before untying your dress and letting it pool at your feet.

"You shouldn't say things like that," he said, his hands gripping your ass and pulling you closer.

"Why? It's the truth," You replied, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing your naked body against his.

"It can get you killed," he said, his voice low and his breath hot against your ear.

You shivered, his words sending a chill down your spine. "I do not care, he deserves to die," you hissed, nipping at his bottom lip.

He smiled and lifted you up, carrying you to the bed and laying you down. His lips were soft against yours, his tongue exploring your mouth.

"Tell me, do you always have such violent thoughts?" He asked, his hands roaming over your body.

He gripped your hips and pulled you underneath him, his erection pressed against your pussy.

"When men like him exist? Yes," you replied, moaning softly as he ground his hips against yours.

"And what would you do, if you had the power?" He asked, his fingers ghosting over your clit, making you moan.

"I would cut him open, and feed him his own guts," you replied, arching your back, a jolt of pleasure shooting through you. "Or perhaps burn him alive," you added, a dark smile spreading across your lips.

He chuckled, a wicked grin on his face, his eyes flashing with desire.

"And what of me? What would you do to me?" He asked, his fingers slipping inside of you, moving slowly, his thumb circling your clit.

You kissed him, hard and fierce, nipping at his lip, a small bead of blood forming. You could taste it, sweet and coppery, the smell of iron filling your nose. He chuckled at your roughness, his fingers moving faster.

"You've not wronged me, yet," you moaned against his lips, your hands going to his cock, the speed of your strokes matching his.

"Yet?" He chuckled, a low and seductive sound.

"There is time," you teased, pushing him off you and onto his back.

You straddled him, lowering yourself onto his cock, moaning as you felt him stretch you. He gripped your hips, guiding you as you began to ride him, his eyes watching you intently.

You arched your back, rolling your hips, grinding against him, your hands on his chest. You could feel him hitting that spot inside of you, making you moan and pant.

He sat up, his hands gripping your ass, his lips finding yours, a soft and passionate kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close, his warmth enveloping you.

"Harder," you pleaded, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

He obliged, his grip tightening, his hips thrusting harder, deeper, filling you completely. You buried your face in his neck, muffling your cries of pleasure, your body tensing as you came.

He grunted, his cock throbbing inside of you, his hot seed spilling into you. You held each other close, panting and sweating, the room silent save for your labored breaths.

He captured your lips, a soft and gentle kiss, his fingers stroking your cheek. You pulled away, resting your forehead against his, a contented sigh escaping your lips.

"Is he here now? This prince," he asked, a bitter inflection to his tone.

"Yes," you replied, running your hands through his hair.

"Will you point him out to me?" He asked, his grip on your hips tightening.

You looked at him, a curious expression on your face. "Why?"

"Just curious," he replied, his fingers tracing circles on your lower back.

You looked into his eyes, a strange fire had crept into his gaze. You could feel a change in the air, the tension thick and heavy, the room seeming to grow darker.

"Okay," you said softly, a hint of trepidation in your voice.

"Good," he said, a sly smile spreading across his lips.

He helped you off his lap, standing and gathering his clothes, pulling his trousers and shirt back on.

You watched him, the way his muscles moved beneath his skin, his eyes focused and determined. He seemed to be lost in thought, his gaze distant, as if he was planning something.

"Who are you?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't respond, just held out his hand for you. You took it, and let him help you off the bed, your fingers intertwined.

You descended the stairs, the tavern full and bustling, the air thick with the scent of sweat and ale. You led him towards the corner where the prince was, his table surrounded by a group of men.

"Them," you said, pointing to the prince and his entourage.

He nodded, and pulled you close, kissing your cheek and placing a large bag of crowns in your hand.

"For you and your friend," he whispered, before releasing you and disappearing into the crowd.

You stared after him, confused and intrigued. You didn't know what was going on, or what he was planning, but you couldn't help but feel a strange sense of excitement.

You went over to Kari who was in the lap of the regular from earlier, her hands wandering over his broad chest.

"Where did you go?" She asked, glancing at you, a questioning look in her eyes.

"Upstairs, with the man from last night," you replied, showing her the coins.

She grinned, her eyes wide. "Look at you, making the big coin," she said, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Suddenly there was a loud crash, the sound of breaking glass. You turned to see the prince on the ground, his table overturned, a shattered bottle of wine next to him. The men he was with nowhere to be seen.

A number of gold cloaks had come storming in, and were surrounding the table, their swords drawn.

You watched the man you had just been with appear behind them, making his way through the gold cloaks, they parted for him without question.

The prince looked up at him, his eyes wide with fear, his body trembling.

"What are you doing? I'm the prince! Prince Daemon Targaryen!" He stammered, trying to back away.

The man laughed, and looked around at the gold cloaks, who were smiling and laughing with him.

"Funny," he said, looking down at the prince. "I could have sworn that was me."

The man who claimed to be the prince looked horrified, his eyes wide with shock.

"That's right, your grace," the man said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You've been caught," he continued, the smirk turning into a sadistic grin.

You watched in horror and amazement as the pretender prince tried to scramble away, only to be stopped by a sword being plunged into his stomach.

He let out a gurgled cry, his blood spraying out onto the floor, a look of pure terror on his face. You and Kari screamed and looked away, covering your mouths in shock.

There was a horrible, visceral wet sound as the real prince Daemon cut open the pretender's stomach, and pulled out his innards, feeding them to him.

The room was silent, save for the sound of the dying pretender, gagging and wailing, his blood pooling around him.

"Let this be a lesson to all those who would dare to impersonate a prince of the realm," Daemon said, his voice booming across the tavern. "All pretenders shall meet the same fate."

The pretender had fallen silent, his body lying in a pool of his own blood and guts. Daemon wiped his hands and sword on the pretender's clothes, and turned to the gold cloaks.

"Clean this up, and dispose of the body," he said, his tone commanding.

The gold cloaks bowed, and began to drag the pretender's body from the tavern. The real prince looked around the room, his eyes landing on you.

You immediately looked to the floor, bowing before him, your heart pounding. You couldn't believe what had just happened, that the prince was a pretender and that the real Daemon had just been in your bed.

He walked over to you, and you kept your gaze down, not daring to look at him. You felt his hand under your chin, tilting your head up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"I'll be sure to burn him too," he said, a small smile on his lips.

You could only nod, your voice caught in your throat. He smiled and released you, turning and walking away.

Everyone was in a state of shocked silence, people staring in awe and disbelief. Kari looked at you, her eyes wide and her face pale.

"What just happened?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I... I don't know," you replied, your own voice shaking.

It was a lesson, one you never forgot. That even among whores, the truth would always find its way to the surface. And for that, there was no mercy.

[bullet-prooflove]

Hawaii: Frank Langdon x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @julessworldd @yousigned-upforthis @travelingmypassion @julius-ceasar

Summary: Frank travels to Hawaii to lay it all out on the line.

Companion piece to:

Ivy - Frank gets a tattoo to commerate the woman he loves.

Hypocrite - Frank struggles to make amends for a past wrongs.

Crash - Almost getting you fired wasn’t the lowest point of Frank’s addiction.

Rock Bottom - Frank hits rock bottom when he sees the devastation his addiction’s caused.

Little Black Dress - Frank starts to spiral when he realises you’re dating.

Every Damn Day - A drunk text leads to a confession.

Wet Dream (NSFW) - Frank sometimes dreams about the life you had together.

War Stories - A realisation about your coping habits leads you to Frank’s door.

The Three Cs - Frank and you finally discuss your issues and pave away towards the future.

The Wall - A date at the climbing wall leads to a revelation from Frank.

Commitment - You create a fun way of showing Frank your commitment to the relationship.

At Your Alter - You discover Frank’s tattoo when you undress him for the first time.

All In (NSFW) - You and Frank take a big step forward.

Slut (NSFW) - Frank gets a little bratty after a bad day.

Nightmare Fuel - Frank’s been waiting for the fall to come.

Boo Fucking Hoo - Your forced to defend yourself after you’re attacked outside the hospital.

The Incident - Frank’s world is thrown into turmoil when he learns about your attack.

The Filing Cabinet - Things haven’t been the same between you and Frank since the attack.

The Perfect Storm - Frank’s time in North Carolina almost leads to his downfall.

Frank pays for the flights to Hawaii by selling the engagement ring.

The damn thing may as well be cursed after that car accident, he can’t look at it without thinking of the 4 inch scar up your arm that you’ve covered with a tarot card tattoo. He spends the entire flight climbing the walls, his anxiety soaring because it’s make or break between the two of you right now and honestly Frank doesn’t know which way it’s going to land.

When he gets to the airport you’re standing there waiting for him and something inside him starts to settle. You’re wearing white denim cut offs that show off the healthy glow you’ve adopted over the past couple of weeks and a tank top that highlights the ink etched into your skin. You’re still wearing the Vans though, he notices, the cute leopard print ones with the Velcro.

“Hi.” He says as he takes the pink flowered lei that’s just been draped over his neck off, draping it over yours instead.

“Hi.” You say softly as your arms wrap around him, drawing him close. The way you feel pressed up against him, it’s like the two of you were never apart. You give him an extra squeeze before you pull away and Frank’s fingers entwine with yours as you lead the way to the parking garage.

He whistles when he sees the Camaro, Danny’s he assumes as he climbs inside, tossing his overnight bag in the backseat. You don’t take him back to your brother’s place, it was agreed it would probably be best for him to get a hotel room since Danny still hates his guts. Instead the two of you head to the beach. Frank thinks it’s because you can sense the tension that’s wound up inside his body from the flight.

You grab two slushies from a cart close to the entrance way before the two of you kick your shoes off and stroll along the sand, the sound of the waves in the distance, the ocean flooding your senses.

Being close to the water, it soothes Frank. His thoughts become less chaotic, the mad energy in his body dispersing so that he can think again.

“I was scared.” He says softly as he sips from honey mango drink. “I was scared if I didn’t come out here and see you for myself…”

The truth is, he didn’t realise just how bad it got for you, not until Robby told him about the roof, about the elastic band you kept snapping on your wrist.

“I’m ok.” You assure him, using your straw to jab at the crushed ice. “Or at least I’m getting there. I’m just not ready to come back to Pittsburgh just yet. That place for me…”

You shrug your shoulders at a loss for the words.

Frank swallows hard against the ache in his chest as he nods his understanding. He didn’t think you’d be coming back, at least not now. This break… it’s something you’ve needed for a very long time.

“It’s important to me that you know I’m still sober, that I wasn’t using-”

“I know.” You say softly. “Robby told me your test came back negative. I’m sorry I thought that, that I doubted you-”

“I get it.” Frank responds, shrugging his shoulders. “I was acting shady as shit-”

“But I could have given you the benefit of the doubt.” You tell him, pushing your hair back away from your face as it catches in the breeze. “I was just too over encumbered, the way everything else was going…”

“It was the perfect storm.” He says knowingly, thinking back to his own issues back in North Carolina. “I get it but I’m committed to you, committed to us that’s why I’m selling the house. I can’t move forward if I’m still holding onto the past and that place, it’s the final link to all the shitty things that happened between us, to that awful history. I can’t live there anymore and I want a space where you can feel safe, that maybe you can make your home too. I want us to have a future together, it doesn’t matter if it’s here or in Pittsburgh, I just want to be with you, to make you happy.”

“You do.” You say sincerely, your fingers capturing his pulling him to a stop alongside of you. “I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you Frank. I honestly don’t know what the future holds but whatever it is, I want it to be with you. I just need to get healthy first, like you did. Coming here, it feels like I can breathe for the first time, I didn’t realise how much I needed it until everything fell apart. The law suit… it was the final push over that ledge…”

“I want you to let me handle that.” Frank tells you, draining the rest of his slushie through the straw, his eyes on yours. “I have a buyer interested in the house, they want a quick sale because they have a baby on the way. As soon as I have the money I’ll hire a lawyer to fight it, we’ll countersue the asshole.”

“Frank, I can’t ask that-”

“You’re not.” He tells you, squeezing your hand lightly. “I want to do this. You deserve a win and he deserves to have his life destroyed for what he did to you. I know how tired you are so let me bear this burden. Let me make him pay for hurting you.”

“Ok.” You whisper. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” He says firmly, his hand comes to rest on your waist as his head tilts down, those vibrant blue eyes of his locking on yours. “I will go to bat for you every single time because that’s what you do when you love someone, you fight when they can’t and I will fight for you Ivy, I would do that for you every single day of the damn week.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[shoomlah]

So sorry if you have already been asked this question and have answered it!

But I was just wondering about the Steam 20th anniversary art:

Who was it that decided which memes you were gonna draw and which characters were drawn in said memes?

Did you pick which memes to draw yourself? Was it a case of you found different memes that you thought would look good/be funny with certain characters and presented your argument to the person in charge?

Or did someone just come into the office with a folder filled with memes, gave it to you and asked if you could draw the memes with certain characters in mind?

We started with a loose spreadsheet that outlined the memes and pop culture events that happened in each respective year, and I pulled from that (plus any additional memes I could think of) to start roughing out a plan—I wanted to 1) make sure I had a pretty good distribution across all of the Valve properties, and 2) focus on memes that are cringe but in like a sentimental way, since we're making a lot of pretty stale references.

I cleared out most of my PureRef board, but there are still a couple dregs of unused memes in there:

I matched up most of the characters/memes myself, and then would bug the team to fill in the blanks if there were years or properties I was stuck on. I'm never gonna know as much about CS or Dota 2 as I do about Half-Life and Portal, so I didn't want to leave them in the dust.

Other than that I just ran them by the team to make sure they all scanned at a quick glance, but beyond that no real official approval process! Super fun just getting carte blanche with this one.

[etirabys]

did you guys know about courtly love??? because I didn't

My introduction to courtly love was reading a Diana Wynne Jones novella that made no sense unless you know what courtly love is. After crawling confusedly through ancient Livejournal reviews to piece together what the story had been about, I took away that it was a weird medieval knight thing where you talk a lot of guff to a (married) woman without ever expecting it to turn into more than what it is.

The first chapter of CS Lewis's The Allegory of Love explains the concept much more thoroughly. His account is pleasantly bonkers. I now relay it to you. (Note: not only am I skeptical of parts of his account, I read it while sleep deprived, so salt liberally.)

First, a sketch of the relationship:

The lover is always abject. Obedience to his lady’s lightest wish, however whimsical, and silent acquiescence in her rebukes, however unjust, are the only virtues he dares to claim. There is a service of love closely modelled on the service which a feudal vassal owes to his lord. The lover is the lady’s ‘man’. He addresses her as midons, which etymologically represents not ‘my lady’ but ‘my lord’. The whole attitude has been rightly described as ‘a feudalisation of love’. This solemn amatory ritual is felt to be part and parcel of the courtly life.

This seems to have been both literary trope and a real-life interaction pattern (of which the former came first). A specific example in Arthuriana:

It is only later that [Lancelot] learns the cause of all this cruelty. The Queen has heard of his momentary hesitation in stepping on to the tumbril[, a humiliating cart he rode into the city where she was held captive, to rescue her], and this lukewarmness in the service of love has been held by her sufficient to annihilate all the merit of his subsequent labours and humiliations. Even when he is forgiven, his trials are not yet at an end. The tournament at the close of the poem gives Guinevere another opportunity of exercising her power. When he has already entered the lists, in disguise, and all, as usual, is going down before him, she sends him a message ordering him to do his poorest. Lancelot obediently lets himself be unhorsed by the next knight that comes against him, and then takes to his heels, feigning terror of every combatant that passes near him. The herald mocks him for a coward and the whole field takes up the laugh against him: the Queen looks on delighted. Next morning the same command is repeated, and he answers, ‘My thanks to her, if she will so’. This time, however, the restriction is withdrawn before the fighting actually begins.

So, huh. How did this cultural script come to be?

Courtly love as a literary trope began in 11th century Provence. Here's Lewis's sketch of that time and place:

We must picture a castle which is a little island of comparative leisure and luxury, and therefore at least of possible refinement, in a barbarous country-side. There are many men in it, and very few women—the lady, and her damsels. Around these throng the whole male meiny [i.e. attendants], the inferior nobles, the landless knights, the squires, and the pages—haughty creatures enough in relation to the peasantry beyond the walls, but feudally inferior to the lady as to her lord—her ‘men’ as feudal language had it. Whatever ‘courtesy’ is in the place flows from her: all female charm from her and her damsels. There is no question of marriage for most of the court. All these circumstances together come very near to being a ‘cause’; but they do not explain why very similar conditions elsewhere had to wait for Provençal example before they produced like results. Some part of the mystery remains inviolate.

So that's the material background – a lopsided gender balance. But more fascinating is the cultural background where the passion and devotion of romantic love – a passion/devotion Lewis claims simply did not exist as a mode for men to treat women in Europe before courtly love was invented – could not be channeled into marriage because such a stance is incompatible with the social role of a husband:

The same woman who was the lady and ‘the dearest dread’ of her vassals was often little better than a piece of property to her husband. He was master in his own house. So far from being a natural channel for the new kind of love, marriage was rather the drab background against which that love stood out in all the contrast of its new tenderness and delicacy. The situation is indeed a very simple one, and not peculiar to the Middle Ages. Any idealization of sexual love, in a society where marriage is purely utilitarian, must begin by being an idealization of adultery.

In fact, courtly love's rightful predecessor is not heterosexual love but the love of a vassal for his lord. (I am quite skeptical of this as a claim about reality, but less skeptical of it as a claim about literature.) Reiterating a sentence from the first quote in this post:

The whole attitude [of a knight in courtly love with his lady] has been rightly described as ‘a feudalisation of love’.

CS Lewis on that feudal relationship:

We shall never understand [the affection between vassal and lord], if we think of it in the light of our own moderated and impersonal loyalties. We must not think of officers drinking the king’s health: we must think rather of a small boy’s feeling for some hero in the sixth form. There is no harm in the analogy, for the good vassal is to the good citizen very much as a boy is to a man. ... He loves and reverences only what he can touch and see; but he loves it with an intensity which our tradition is loath to allow except to sexual love.

So it's that relationship that courtly love remixes into heterosexual romance. Courtly love ennobles the lover – there's a religious parallel here for sure. And it is necessarily adulterous because marriage is not a matter of personal passion, because distance is conducive to recreational idealization, because the lack of potential sexual consummation is pleasantly purity-coded in a Christian society, and because a wife, being a knight's inferior, cannot ennoble him. So, finally, Lewis says bluntly:

The love which is to be the source of all that is beautiful in life and manners must be the reward freely given by the lady, and only our superiors can reward. But a wife is not a superior.

Coming back briefly to Diana Wynne Jones's The True State of Affairs: I understand much better now the behavior of the protagonist's love interest. He's a bored would-be king in captivity who decides to make the other visible prisoner his midons. He expects her to understand the convention he's following. Why shouldn't he take her on as a concept like this? She, also bored and deprived, benefits from his gifts and minor heroics. He wants an ennobling influence. And besides, isn't idealizing a beautiful woman you never intend to make a move on fun?

[avvail-whumps]

Royal Bought: Complete Masterlist

General/brief content and warnings:

🏹 Luke’s Arc: vampire whump, non-human whumper, defiant whumpee, human auctions/trafficking, pet whump, hypnosis.

🍂 Ten’s Arc: none, apart from (temporary) character death, hypnosis and vampiric turning at the beginning.

💌 Ileana’s Girls: vampire whump, lady whumper, non-human whumper, multiple lady whumpees, hypnosis, conditioning, polygamy.

Information: the numbers beside each chapter indicate the writing order they’re written in. All stories are listed in chronological order. Although the stories can overlap and some are repeated, the emoji’s indicate who the chapters belong to mainly. For example, 🏹’s appear within Ten’s first few chapters of his arc because he makes an appearance, and it’s beneficial in understanding the origins of his story. However, they are mainly Luke’s chapters and are from his point of view.

🏹 Luke’s Arc

Growing up in a distant camp away from vampire civilisation, Luke has lived a life of constant fear and the unknown. When a vampire is thrown into his path under alarming circumstances after threatening somebody he cares deeply about, Luke is carted away to the kingdom and prepared to be bought and sold at one of their famous auctions; by none other than a Royal.

Note: Don’t like lady whump? Chapters 6-11 contain a (temporary) lady whumper. If you’d like to skip them, here’s a masterpost briefly summarising these chapters.

Hunting Deer (#1)

Upon Gates (#2)

Child’s Play (#3)

Underground Cattle (#4)

Sampling (#5)

Pretty Girls (#6)

Thorns and Roses (#7)

🍂 Ten’s Arc

When the vampire Justinian finds him in the Collared Forest, Ten was oblivious to the fate that would be in store for him. When he’s tricked into drinking vampire blood and subsequently murdered, Ten finds himself waking up as a bloodsucking creature of the night. Alone in an unfamiliar world, Ten adjusts to being an immortal child and the new life ahead of him.

🏹 Hunting Deer (#1)

Enter Justinian (Bonus)

🏹 Upon Gates (#2)

🏹 Child’s Play (#3)

💌 Ileana’s Girls

The story of three strangers, who are forced into unforseen circumstances when they’re abducted and planned to be sold off to any vampire that will pay for them. But their fates become irrevocably intertwined when they catch the eye of Ileana, a beautiful vampire attracted to pretty humans. And pretty things deserve to be spoiled, don’t they?

coming :)

Asks and Answers

Questions:

Ten’s Arc and Minor Whump (Short answer: there is none)

Justinian’s Significance

Plush Bunny

Everything Tag List: @whumpatize-me-captain @whump-me-all-night-long @softvampirewhump @d-cs @suspicious-whumping-egg @sapphirechao @sparrowsage @excessive-vampires @thecyrulik

Ten’s Arc Tag list: @obsessednerd505

Note: if you ask to be added to the tag list, I will automatically add you to the ‘Everything Tag List’. If you want to opt out of certain stories, e.g you don’t enjoy lady whump and don’t want to be tagged in Ileana’s Girls, then please let me know so I can tag you accordingly.

[dutchessofcaladan]

I'm officially transferring to a new location for my job

For a little background, I work in customer service and was hired by the company back in July of last yr and did my training at another location since the one I'm currently at wouldn't open until October.

Training went great. My assistant CS manager was going to be the assistant CS manager at the new location. She was amazing, always on top of things.

When it was time to go to the new store, everything was fine until a few weeks in.

Rude coworkers treating me like I'm incompetent, management telling me things months into my job I should've been told in training. The whole shitty shabang.

2 weeks before Thanksgiving, I put in a time off request that sat there for 2 weeks untouched. I was put on the schedule for the 27th (I hadn't been able to seen the schedule for that week when I put in the request). I didn't do anything abt it because I had faith in management that they would do their jobs and at least look at the request because I couldn't possibly be the only person taking time off for the holiday, especially since my assistant CS manager already knew I was going out of town.

Boy was I wrong.

I received a call 2 hours into the shift that I couldn't be at because I was in a different state asking me if everything was alright since they hadn't seen me. I told them everything was fine and that I was just out of state. I also explained that I had put in a time off request 2 weeks in advance. She tried to tell me that maybe it was denied and I told her no that it was sitting at pending for 2 weeks. I honestly think they didn't notice I wasn't there until I had to do carts.

After that, I wasn't scheduled for a while and received a message of "possible separation" due to the fact that I hadn't worked in a while. Not my fault. I have no control over my schedule. When I called to speak to my assistant CS manager since she was really the only one who gave a damn abt me, I was bluntly told that she had been promoted and didn't there anymore.

Then, when I finally got scheduled again, I met our CS manager. She'd seemed nice enough at the welcome to store thing, but I hadn't seen her since. I was just doing my job and she comes over, asking me if I'd been trained on our carryout service. I say yes. She tells me that if I continue to not ask people if they need help out to their cars, she's gonna send me home. Mind you, the customers that we'd had come through were either big families or decently fit guys who barely had anything. So, out of fear that I was still being watched (I was on the complete opposite side of the store from her when she came over) and would be sent home, I asked EVERY. SINGLE. PERSON. who came through the line if they needed help out. And guess what? People laughed at me. You know why? Because it's ludicrous. If they look like they need help, I'll ask, but if it's people who obviously don't, what's the point?

From then on, she continued to treat me like I didn't know what I was doing and today was no different.

Today, I was scheduled from 1:30pm to 5:45pm. I get there, clock in, and she tells me I need to do a store sweep among a billion other things before I had carts in half an hour. So I go get the broom and begin working. Then I get called back to the front to do a pickup order.

By the time I'm finished with that, it's 4 mins into my cart time, so I put up the broom. As I get ready to go do carts, she stops me and asks if I did the store sweep. I say I got through part of it and she asked if i swept the front of the store. I say no because I was called by the girl at the CS desk to do a pick up order. She asks me what time I got there, even though she has schedule papers right in front of her in her hand. I say 1:30. She says ok and leaves and I go do carts.

My mom was shopping at the store during this time and she said whe she was leaving, the CS manager looked as if she was standing guard by the door, like someone was gonna escape.

Everyone I've ever talked to about the company who has also worked there has also had a horrible experience.

[wisitechinfosolutions]

CS Cart Development Company

Wisitech is a leading CS-Cart development company that specializes in providing comprehensive e-commerce solutions. With a team of skilled professionals, we offer end-to-end CS-Cart development services to create customized and scalable online stores. Our expertise in CS-Cart enables us to develop feature-rich websites, seamless integrations, and user-friendly interfaces. We understand the unique requirements of businesses and deliver tailor-made solutions that enhance their online presence. Whether it's CS-Cart installation, theme development, module customization, or ongoing support and maintenance, we ensure a seamless and efficient development process. Trust Wisitech for reliable CS-Cart development services that drive your e-commerce success.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

prince's gambit highlights & annotations

chapter 16

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

The Vaskian women, whose allegiance was tentative, retreated with the carts—except two, who stayed to fight on the understanding that they would receive the horses of any men they killed.

HORSE GIRLS UNITED

‘The Regency,’ said Laurent, addressing the troop, ‘thought to take us outnumbered. It expected us to roll over without a fight.’ Damen said: ‘We will not let them cow us, subdue us or force us down. Ride hard. Don’t stop to fight the front line. We are going to smash them open. We are here to fight for our Prince!’

THEY’RE SPEECHING TOGETHER <3

He recognised, in himself, that he was angry, and that it had less to do with Aimeric’s betrayal than with the Regent, the malicious rumours that the Regent employed—warping the truth, warping men, while the Regent himself remained pristine and untouched as he set his men to fight against their own Prince.

big breakthrough with the nice vs. good theme!

‘It would not have been my strategy.’ ‘I know. You overcomplicate things.’

‘Then we’ll have a swift victory. I meant what I said. If we sleep tonight inside the walls of Ravenel, in the morning, I will take off the collar from around your neck. This is the battle you came here to fight.’

spoiler alert: not only will you be sleeping tonight inside the walls of ravenel, you will be sleeping together tonight inside the walls of ravenel

He felt Touars’s blade drive into the ground, slicing through the straps of his helm, and—where it should have hit his neck—scraping with a metallic sound down the side of his gold collar.

He turned, the truth on his face. Stripped bare, he could not hide himself in that moment. Laurent, he thought, and lifted his gaze to meet the eyes of the man who had witnessed the last words of Lord Touars. It wasn’t Laurent. It was Jord. He was staring at Damen in horror, his sword lax in his hand. ‘No,’ said Damen. ‘It’s not—’ The final moments of the battle faded around Damen, as he came to full comprehension of what Jord was seeing. Of what Jord, for the second time that day, was seeing. ‘Does he know?’ said Jord.

probably the worst possible person to hear this, ngl. since he’s nursing a betrayal and heartbreak.

okay so the first time i read this, i didn’t think laurent knew. so this was SO fucking stressful. like i felt so bad for laurent. and i still do, i feel bad for both of them! but there is a relief to knowing that laurent knows. but damen still has to deal with the anxiety of this between now and the reveal, which i think is important for his development. and laurent is still in denial, even if he knows who damen is. that’s how he allows himself to be vulnerable at all, which is ultimately what he needs.

Laurent reined in beside him, still astride the same horse, dried blood in a stripe along its shoulder. ‘Well, Captain,’ he said. ‘Now we merely have to take an impregnable fortress.’ His eyes were bright.

modern au gamer laurent…

All men would receive care.

laurent is trying to do war in the most honorable way possible

‘Are you here to kill me?’ said Jord. ‘No,’ said Damen. There was a silence. They stood two paces apart. Jord had a knife drawn, and held it low, a white-knuckled fist around the hilt.

jord’s definitely thinking about aimeric and orlant

‘You hated us so much, all this time? It wasn’t enough to invade, to take our land? You had to play this—sick game as well?’

jord i get where you’re coming from, and this was heart-wrenching on my first read, but i assure you that laurent’s game is sicker and he’s been playing it on purpose

‘Tell him?’ said Jord. ‘Tell him the man he trusts has lied, and lied again, has deceived him into the worst humiliation?’

babygirl you’re projecting a little bit

‘You killed his brother, then got him under you in bed.’ Put like that, it was monstrous. It’s not that way between us, he ought to have said, and didn’t, couldn’t. He felt hot, then cold. He thought of Laurent’s delicate, needling talk that froze into icy rebuff if Damen pushed at it, but if he didn’t—if he matched himself to its subtle pulses and undercurrents—continued, sweetly deepening, until he could only wonder if he knew, if they both knew, what they were doing.

craft note: this is just beautifully written. i love the way pacat describes their mutual attraction and the way they interact with each other

He’ll mourn your loss, and never know.

bet you wish you could have had that with aimeric, jord, instead of what you got

craft note: honestly, wow. this is a really clever way to keep the “does laurent know” mystery compelling. jord and aimeric as a parallel to laurent and damen distracts the reader from the idea of laurent knowing, and it misleads the reader into seeing the dynamics as parallel. like, jord, damen, and most likely the reader all think at this point that damen = aimeric in this situation; the traitor, who knows more than his partner. and it’s dramatic and emotional and limited to damen’s pov, so it’s easy for a first time reader to buy into it.

but in reality, the one with more knowledge here is laurent, who both knows who damen is and knows that damen doesn’t know that he knows who he is. the jord/aimeric thing and the upcoming nicaisening are both really smart things to insert at this point in the plot, so most first-time readers get to experience the shock of the reveal without being intentionally misdirected in a way that feels cheap.

it’s not satisfying to be outright told one thing is true (laurent doesn’t know) and then have a “twist” that it’s actually untrue. but because pacat takes the care to plant the suggestion of laurent’s ignorance through a parallel to another character, the reader is the one filling in the blanks. so then when the truth is plainly revealed, the reader gets to rethink everything, see what they missed, and not feel annoyed or misinformed.

‘You’re gone by the time the sun hits the middle of the sky, or I tell him,’ said Jord. ‘And what he did to you in the palace will seem like a lover’s kiss compared with what will happen to you then.’

jord you look so silly now that i know the twist. you underestimate laurent’s cognitive dissonance and the power of love that isn’t simply predicated on sex. maybe if you and aimeric had grown to respect each other as people first, like damen and laurent, things could have gone differently. just sayingggggg

‘You fill me with horror,’ said Jord. His hands were tight on his knife. Both his hands, now.

oh shut up. damen’s fine.

[kmomof4]

Into the Light: A New Fic for @cssns

It's FINALLY my date for posting this year's CSSNS fic!!!!! I'm so excited to share it with all of you!!!

This fic is inspired by the 1987 movie, The Lost Boys, starring Kiefer Sutherland, Jason Patric, Dianne Wiest, and Edward Herrmann.

I may have written it, but there are several lovely ladies who were instrumental in getting this fic to you, the reader. Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU to @jrob64 and @snowbellewells for beta duties and helping me decide on a title, @hollyethecurious for helping me brainstorm, @zaharadessert, @stahlop, and @grimmswan for their contributions in the early planning and writing phases.

And finally, ALLLLLL the love and long distance internet hugs to @motherkatereloyshipper for the AWESOME and INCREDIBLE artwork she made to accompany the fic!!! I could stare it for HOURS!!!

Summary: The move to Storybrooke, Maine might have been intended as the beginning of a new life for Killian Jones and his older siblings Liam and Belle, but there's a darkness over the town that threatens the small family's happiness, as well as the girl and small boy Killian has taken a liking to from his school. Killian is determined to help Emma and Henry get out of the situation they are in, but those dark forces in and around the town have another plan altogether.

Rating: T for non graphic violence and subject matter. There is a suggestive scene in ch2, but I don't think it crosses a line. If you have any questions, feel free to DM me.

Words: 9,800 of approx. 16,500.

Tags: Vampires, Inspired by The Lost Boys, CSSNS23

On ao3

Ch2 on Tumblr

Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

@teamhook @winterbaby89 @xarandomdreamx @undercaffinatednightmare @the-darkdragonfly @superchocovian @pirateprincessofpizza @tiganasummertree @anmylica @cosette141 @jonesfandomfanatic @ultraluckycatnd @jennjenn615 @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @kymbersmith-90 @booksteaandtoomuchtv @wistfulcynic @mie779 @lfh1226-linda @aprilqueen84 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @pirateherokillian @elfiola @ilovemesomekillianjones @justanother-unluckysoul @poptart-cat-78 @myfearless-love @goforlaunchcee @searchingwardrobes @gingerpolyglot @gingerchangeling @djlbg @cocohook38 @cs-rylie @thisonesatellite @donteattheappleshook @deckerstarblanche @veryverynotgoodwrites @wefoundloveunderthelight @fleurdepetite @alexa-fangirl-forever

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

Ch. 1 A Shadow on the Future

Liam Jones opened the front door of the house he and his family would soon be calling home. He turned around to see his younger siblings, Belle and Killian, hefting the suitcases they’d carted along on their cross country journey, the moving truck right behind them. Turning back toward the house, he entered and looked around approvingly. It was the first time he’d actually seen the house in person, and while it might not have been the smartest thing he could’ve done- buying a house, sight unseen- it looked like it was going to be more than adequate for the needs of his family. 

Liam pointed off to the left as Belle and Killian came in.

“Bedrooms are back that way,” he said. “Belle, you can have the master so you can have your own bathroom. Killian and I can share.”

“What?!” Killian exclaimed. “I’m not sharing a bedroom with you!”

Liam shot him an unamused look. “Bathroom, brother. We’ll share a bathroom.”

“Oh,” he said, looking a little sheepish.

“Are you sure, Liam?” Belle asked. “You’re the one who bought the house. You should have the biggest bedroom.”

Liam chuckled. “I’m sure. Trying to get you to hurry in the morning when we’re all trying to get out the door is a futile endeavor, so this way Killian and I won’t have to.”

Belle rolled her eyes, but the corner of her lip twitched upward slightly as she turned to head down the hallway. Killian followed her until he disappeared from Liam’s sight into the first bedroom he came to. Liam hoped his youngest sibling liked the house he’d bought and would be able to put the past year behind him and find happiness in their new home. 

It was hard enough for Liam to survive the last seven months, as they waited for Belle to graduate with her teaching degree and find a job so they could all move away from the cursed town that had taken so much away from them. First, both of their parents died, leaving Liam, barely a man himself, with custody of his two younger siblings. Belle had been just about to graduate high school, and Killian was just entering his teens. Belle started college and excelled, while Killian navigated the difficult teen years with two siblings too caught up in their own grief and then individual lives to see him struggling to keep his head above water.

Killian had always been smaller than most of his peers and so was the target of bullies throughout his high school years. That led to his involvement in underage drinking and drugs before Liam realized what was going on with his little brother and got him the help he needed to get clean and sober the summer before his junior year in high school.

It wasn’t until Killian discovered his new girlfriend cheating last fall and then Liam’s longtime girlfriend passed away suddenly in January, that the family decided to move away from California as soon as Belle graduated and found a job. Liam had experience working on fishing boats and the docks and wanted to stay in that field, so when Belle started sending out her resumé, she focused on coastal towns. It took a couple of months after she graduated, but she finally settled on a small private school in Storybrooke, Maine. 

The compensation and benefits were outstanding for someone just out of college, and Killian could enroll for his senior year of high school at only half the regular tuition rate. Liam was able to secure work on the docks in the small town. Given their location in southern California, everything from applying for jobs, to interviews, to buying the house, had been done remotely through the magic of technology. This was the first time any of them had stepped foot in the quaint hamlet they would now call home, but Liam was hopeful this was the beginning of a new life for them all.

Liam moved toward the remaining bedroom to drop off his own suitcase before coming back out to direct the movers where to put everything. Belle’s first day of work was almost a week and a half away with the first day of school the Monday after that, and Liam wanted to have everything unpacked and settled by then. Even if she wasn’t the oldest, Belle was still the lady of the house, and he knew she’d have a lot to say about where everything was placed once it was unpacked.

By the end of the day, everyone was pleasantly sore and exhausted as they sat down around the kitchen table to devour the pizzas Liam had ordered.

“We got a lot done today, guys,” Liam said, around a mouthful of supreme pizza. Belle shot him a disapproving look.

“You’re worse than Killian, Liam,” she said. “Don’t speak with your mouth full.”

Liam and Killian shot each other an amused smirk. It was always fun to tease their sister.

“I don’t think we’ll have any trouble getting everything unpacked before you and I have to be at work next Monday,” he continued after swallowing. 

“I don’t think so either,” Belle agreed. “My first full day is a week from Monday, but since I’ve never met the headmaster in person, I thought I’d go by and meet him sometime next week. Just to introduce myself and look around a bit.”

“That sounds like a good idea. What about you, Killian?” he asked. “What are you going to do with yourself once you’re all unpacked?”

Killian shrugged. “I should have everything unpacked and set up tomorrow, then I can help Belle in the kitchen. But I was kinda thinking about looking for a job. I still have a couple of weeks before school starts, and once it does, I can work two or three nights during the week and on the weekends.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Killian?” Liam asked. “I don’t want you to be overwhelmed between school and work.”

Killian shrugged again. “If it gets to be too much, I’ll cut back on hours or quit.”

“If you’re sure,” Liam murmured. Belle nodded in agreement, placing her hand on Killian’s forearm and squeezing it gently in support.

“This is the start of a new life for us,” Belle said, a bright smile on her face. “And I have no doubt we’ll be very happy here.”

“I hope so,” Killian murmured. He tried to muster up a smile to match his sister’s, but doubted he succeeded. It wasn’t that he was against this move, far from it, but he had to admit to being slightly intimidated coming into a small school in a small town where everyone had probably known each other all their lives. Keeping to himself and staying busy with a job and schoolwork meant he wouldn’t have much time for a social life, and right now, that was just fine with him. He could find his footing in the school, get the lay of the land, then try to make some friends. He’d never had many, too small and too nerdy to really fit in with all the cliques back home. But maybe he could find some here. He’d filled out a lot the past year, and if the attention he’d gotten from the female portion of the population after he’d broken up with Tink last fall was any indication, he wasn’t bad looking, either. 

Once the pizzas were gone, everyone retired to their respective beds. They were all too tired to even think about getting the TV set up, much less anything else. They’d gotten all the beds assembled with sheets and blankets on them, ready for their occupants, the internet up and running, and all the computers set up and online. They also had all the furniture in place in all the rooms. All they needed to do was unpack the rest of the boxes and settle everything in their places.

It was going to be a very long and busy week.

~*~*~

The Wednesday after the family arrived in town, Belle visited St. James Academy, the small private school where she would be teaching a class of seventeen first graders in a week-and-a-half. The lights were off in the wide hallways, creating a shadowed and somnolent atmosphere in the seemingly deserted building. Before seeking out the main offices and Mr. Robert Gold, the headmaster, she decided to walk along the halls and familiarize herself with the layout of the school. She found the lunchroom, gymnasium, and bathrooms before turning the corner and finding the elementary school classrooms. 

Storybrooke was a small town, and the school reflected that with only one classroom per grade until the high school years. High school sports were big in the tiny hamlet and once kids hit junior high, the lack of a sports program at St. James Academy meant the steady withdrawal of students until there just weren’t enough to justify individual classes for the different grades. The 9th through 12th graders at the school attended all the same classes together, and there were a total of thirteen students. Killian was one of only three who would actually be graduating in the spring. 

Belle found her classroom without any problem as each room had a placard outside with the grade level. She opened the door and was pleased to find that it was a spacious,  well-lit room. The back wall contained three very large windows that let in an abundance of natural light. She walked in, absolutely charmed. There was a reading corner with small bookshelves filled with books for not only her young students to read themselves, but also classic chapter books for her to read aloud to them. She saw The Hobbit, The Chronicles of Narnia, and the Little House series, among others. She could already picture a bright yellow rug with large throw pillows and bean bags for her students to lie on as they got lost in the fantastical worlds Belle knew were contained within the books she saw.

The sound of a clearing throat drew her attention back to the door of her classroom. She turned and saw an older, slight man, his two hands on top of a cane held in front of him standing in the shadows of the hallway. His hair was straight, light and on the thin side, coming to his shoulders. He was impeccably dressed in a gray three piece suit that made his dark eyes even more striking.

“May I help you, Miss?” he asked. His voice had a slight musical quality that Belle felt herself drawn to. She moved back toward the door and him.

“Mr. Gold?” she asked, extending her hand toward him as she approached. It was an educated guess on her part, having never laid eyes on her new boss. The application and interview process had been completely blind with the final interview only an audio call instead of a video conference. 

He appeared startled, then the corner of his lips lifted in a small smile as he reached his own hand toward her.

“Yes, my dear,” he replied. “I’m the headmaster here at St. James Academy.”

“I’m Belle Jones, your new first grade teacher.”

He propped his cane in the door frame and took her hand in both of his, his smile widening to show his dazzling white teeth. As soon as his hands closed over hers, Belle felt almost an electrical current shoot up her arm. Her eyes met his, and she let out a small gasp. Something in his gaze captured her attention completely, and she couldn’t look away. His eyes were like bottomless pools that drew her in, inviting her to let go and surrender. Belle could feel herself sinking, her muscles relaxing, a sort of wooziness taking over her mind that she was helpless to resist. Yet, at almost the same time, something deep down inside her rose up from within, almost a compulsion to back up and put some distance between herself and the man in front of her.

She shook her head slightly, breaking his spellbinding gaze and backed up a step into her classroom again. He immediately released her hand, remaining in the shadowed hallway.

“It is wonderful to finally meet you, Miss Jones,” he said. “I see you found your classroom. How do you like it?”

“It’s wonderful,” she said, sincerely. “But please, call me Belle.” She smiled at him, and when she did, his eyes seemed to dance with glee. She averted her gaze slightly, feeling that wooziness start to creep back up again.

“I’m so glad you like it… Belle.” The musical quality was back in his voice, and her heart rate ticked up in response. The way he said her name made her think of a sommelier tasting a new wine before approving it. “And if I’m to call you Belle, then I must insist you call me Robert.”

Belle’s cheeks heated slightly and she averted her eyes again.

“Robert,” she parroted.

“Well,” he said after a slight pause, “I’ll leave you to look around your room for a bit. If you need anything or have any questions, I’ll be in my office just down the hall. If not, I’ll see you on Monday.” He picked up his cane in one hand and held his other hand out to her again. She placed her own hand in his, and he raised it to his lips with a slight bow. The moment he brushed his lips along her knuckles, another shock raced up her arm, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. Belle nodded as he let go of her hand and walked away, his shoes and cane clicking on the tile floor.

Belle turned back to her room, walked over to her desk, and sat down behind it. A happy smile lit up her face as she looked around her classroom. Her first classroom. Yes, she was sure this was the beginning of a new life for the Jones family, and that they would be very happy here.

~*~*~

The bell above the door of Any Given Sundae rang as a small group entered the ice cream shop where Killian had easily found a job the week after his family moved into their new home. School hadn’t yet started, so Killian was thrilled to be working a good number of hours. He was amazed at the traffic the small shop got. Sure, it was August, but everything he’d observed about Storybrooke was completely belied by the amount of people on the boardwalk every night. Where did they all come from? 

He looked at the group coming in and noticed a gorgeous blonde behind the three men in front, and a small boy almost hiding behind her. Something about them made Killian sit up and take notice, and it wasn’t the girl’s stunning beauty. The men had a swagger that put Killian’s teeth on edge. He had known people like that back home and they almost always meant trouble. Turning his attention back to the blonde and little boy, he could clearly see the nerves rolling off of her, and while he expected a kid to be excited to be getting ice cream and leading the way into the shop, the little boy with her looked to be trying to disappear. Killian narrowed his eyes as the group approached, quite sure something was wrong here.

The one who seemed to be the leader stepped up to the counter, a sarcastic smirk on his face. He was entirely unremarkable in his appearance- brown hair and brown eyes, a mustache and goatee, a little huskier than his very thin companions, and just a little shorter than Killian himself.

“Haven’t seen you around here before,” he said, looking down into the cooler at all the ice cream flavors offered. “You new in town?”

“What’s it to you?” Killian shot back, his agitation at the perceived situation before him making him unable to greet the customers with the normal friendly welcome. He took a deep breath and tried again. “Apologies. May I help you with some ice cream?” He cut his eyes toward the girl and smiled. She looked to be about his age. Her smile back at him was shy. Killian opened the cooler and scooped out a generous helping of his favorite flavor.

He handed the ice cream cone to her with an attempt at a wink that made her blush and smile wider. She took the cone and looked down at the boy still trying to hide behind her.

“Want some rum raisin, Henry?” When Henry shook his head, she shrugged and took a long lick of it herself. Her smirk was mischievous as she looked back at Killian. “Rum Raisin and Rocky Road are my favorites. How did you know?”

Killian waggled his eyebrows at her. “I knew a woman as beautiful as you would have excellent taste, so I shared my personal favorite.” He turned his attention to Henry. “And what can I get for you, young man?”

The boy’s eyes cut toward the man who’d first spoken to Killian. It was impossible to miss the stormy visage on the man’s face, so Killian ignored him completely and focused on Henry.

“Can I have Cookies and Cream, please?” 

“Of course, you may,” Killian said, handing him a cone. The boy’s smile was blinding, and Killian couldn’t help but smile back.

“What can I get for you gentlemen?” Killian asked, finally turning his attention to the other three.

“Butter Pecan for me,” the first man said, his brows still furrowed angrily. 

“Chocolate for me,” the second man said. He looked to be the youngest of the three. He had light brown hair, a baby face, and was a little shorter than the leader. He didn’t look much older than Killian. 

“Chocolate Chip,” the third man said. He was several inches taller than the other two men and skinny as a rail. He had a long scar down the side of his face that gave him a dangerous look.

Killian handed out the ice cream and collected the money. The girl and Henry were the first ones out the door, the blonde throwing a soft smile over her shoulder as she exited the shop.

The leader either couldn’t or didn’t bother trying to hide the anger on his face as the door shut behind her. He turned back to Killian and leaned over the counter as far as he could as the other two men moved toward the door, smirks firmly on their faces that sent a chill down Killian’s spine.

“I expect I’ll be seeing you around… Killian,” he said, his eyes flicking down to where Killian’s nametag was affixed to his uniform shirt. Killian couldn’t help the shudder that overcame him at the look on the man’s face. It was assessing and chilling at the same time. If eyes were the windows to the soul, Killian wasn’t sure this guy had one. But there wasn’t a thing he could do. Just hope the group wouldn’t come back anytime soon. Or at least, the three men.

With a smirk that matched his male companions, the man turned and walked out into the night.

~*~*~

Killian entered the front door of St. James Academy the following Monday morning and was greeted with a veritable cacophony from all the younger students, high on the excitement inherent in the first day of school. Before heading toward the high school wing, he decided to find Belle’s classroom and say hi. It only took him a minute to find it, and when he peeked his head in, he saw his sister in her element, surrounded by a crowd of munchkins. She looked so happy and excited to be there, Killian couldn’t help his own grin breaking over his face.

“Hi, Belle,” he called. Her smile got even wider when she turned to him.

“Hi, Killian,” she said, coming toward him. As soon as she reached the door, she gathered him in a tight hug. “Ready for today?”

“As I’ll ever be,” he answered. “What about you?”

Belle always had a lovely smile, but her face positively glowed with happiness at his question. “As I’ll ever be,” she echoed. “Why don’t you meet me here after school and we’ll go get some ice cream to celebrate our first day?”

Killian grinned. “Sounds good to me. Maybe Liam can meet us, too.”

Belle’s eyes cut to someone standing behind him, and her smile became just a bit softer as Killian turned around and got ready to head toward his classes. There was a man standing behind him, one hand on a cane, the other held out toward him. His dark eyes glittered and his skin was pale, almost sickly looking.

“Good morning, Belle. This must be your brother, Killian,” he said. Killian took the man’s hand and shook it, a tingle shooting up his arm at the contact. “I personally know all my students, and your face is new here today,” he explained. “Plus your blue eyes and the shape of your chins are remarkably similar.”

Belle laughed lightly. “Yes, Robert. This is my younger brother, Killian. Killian, Robert Gold, the headmaster.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Gold,” Killian said, releasing the man’s hand and trying not to shake some feeling back into it. Mr. Gold’s eyes were a bit disconcerting, and that, combined with the tingle up his arm when they shook hands, left Killian feeling very ill at ease in the man’s presence.

“Excuse me,” a small voice said behind Mr. Gold. The three of them looked down to see a small brown haired boy that Killian recognized as Henry from Any Given Sundae the other night.

“Hi, Henry,” he said before his eyes caught the gaze of the young woman behind him. A huge grin split his face.

She wore sunglasses, but there was no doubt it was the same girl who accompanied Henry and the three men last week when he was working.

Henry looked up at him and smiled, his hand lifting in a shy wave. 

“Henry Mills?” Belle asked. Henry nodded. “I’m so happy to meet you,” she said, a huge welcoming smile on her face. “I’m Miss Jones, your teacher. I see you’ve already met my younger brother, Killian.”

Henry nodded vigorously. “Yes, ma’am. Emma and I got ice cream last week, and Killian helped us.” 

Killian found it curious that Henry didn’t mention the three men he’d been with. 

“Emma?” he asked, holding his hand out for her to shake. “I’m Killian. Killian Jones,” he said with a little bow. “I’m Henry’s teacher’s younger brother.” He felt a bit silly basically repeating everything Belle and Mr. Gold had just said, that he was sure she heard, but he was knocked off-kilter just enough at her presence that he couldn’t think of anything else to say. She smiled and shook his hand, but didn’t take her sunglasses off.

“It’s nice to meet you, Killian,” she said. She looked nervously at Mr. Gold and then at Belle. “I’m Emma Swan, Henry’s sister. We live in the same foster home,” Emma explained. “I’m a senior and will be bringing Henry and picking him up every day. If he has any issues, you can let me know.”

“Oh, I see,” Belle said with a nod. “It’s very nice to meet you, Emma. Come on in, Henry, and find your seat. You’ll see Emma after school.” She gestured toward the boy and laid her arm across his shoulders as he entered her room. “I’ll see you later, Killian.” She gave them all a brief nod and turned back toward her room.

Killian was delighted to discover that Emma was also a senior at the school. That meant they’d have all of the same classes. He turned to her with a wide smile on his face.

“I’m a senior, too,” he said a little shyly. “May I walk you to class?”

Emma smiled at him and nodded. As they walked away from Belle’s classroom, Killian couldn’t help thinking that their future in Storybrooke was going to be a good one.

Mr. Gold watched them walk away down the hall toward the high school classrooms. A hint of a smile curved the corner of his lips as he turned toward his office. 

~*~*~

The first week of school flew by and before Killian knew it, it was Friday morning. He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as he sat down next to Emma in their classroom. 

“Did you get the Pre Cal homework done?” he asked.

She let out a huge yawn before speaking. “I did, but there was one I couldn’t get no matter how many times I went back.” She pulled out her notebook and opened it up to the homework due this morning. “This one,” she said, pointing. 

Math was Killian’s favorite subject, so he looked at Emma’s paper and immediately saw where she’d gone wrong in her calculations. He pulled out his homework and let her compare.

“Ugh,” she groaned, once she figured it out. “I feel so stupid.”

“Don’t,” Killian encouraged her. “Sometimes we get so caught up in it, it’s impossible to see our mistakes without a second pair of eyes. Now that you know what you did wrong, you’ll do fine on the quiz.”

“I hope so,” she murmured. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Killian put his math homework away and got out his Anatomy and Physiology notebook. He cut his eyes toward Emma, a worried frown on his face. She looked just as tired this morning as she had all week. He obviously didn’t know her very well, but they’d struck up a quick friendship since Monday- sitting next to each other in class, exchanging phone numbers, and helping each other with homework. Judging from some of the time stamps on their texts, he knew she had trouble sleeping at night. And then when she’d invariably fall asleep in their morning classes, the academically challenging classes at that, he couldn’t help but worry about her. So far, it hadn’t seemed to hamper her, but Killian knew she couldn’t sleep through her morning classes and expect to graduate next spring.

Once their morning classes were over, and Emma looked a bit more awake, they headed down to the lunch room.

“So what are your plans this weekend?” Killian asked.

Emma shrugged as they sat down to eat. “Oh, the usual. Hang out at the boardwalk. Study for the history test Tuesday.” She looked him full in the face, something in the depths of her eyes that Killian couldn’t quite define. “There’s a beach party I’m going to tonight. Would you like to come?”

Killian’s brow furrowed. Her “usual” meant she’d be with those three guys who’d come into the store with her last week. He wasn’t sure he wanted to attend anything where those three were around.

Emma placed her hand on his arm. “I’d really like you to come,” she said, cutting her eyes to the side slightly. 

Since his stint in rehab, Killian had no trouble reading people. It was a gift he had developed during his time there that enabled him to see more under the surface rather than taking situations and people at face value. That ability had served him very well in the last year. But the mixed signals he was getting from Emma were really throwing him off. Her words and actions told him she really wanted him to come with her, but her eyes and the tension in her body told another story. She seemed almost fearful, and given the vibes those men had thrown off last week, Killian could definitely see why. He couldn’t abide leaving Emma in a situation like that, not without trying to help her.

“Are those three guys you were with last week gonna be there?” he asked.

“It’s Neal’s party, the one who asked if you were new in town, so, yeah, they’ll all be there. And a few others too. There’ll be a bonfire on the beach, food, drinks, and music.” Her green eyes met his, and he was helpless to look away. He could get lost in them forever and he’d die happy.

“Sure,” he agreed. “I’ll be glad to come. What time?”

“Meet me at the ice cream shop as soon as the sun sets.”

“Alright, Emma.” 

After that there was very little conversation as they hurriedly finished their lunch.

~*~*~

That evening, Killian stood outside Any Given Sundae waiting for Emma.

“Killian!” He heard his name and turned toward the sound, away from the beach. Henry belted down the boardwalk toward him, Emma walking at a more sedate pace behind the child. Killian was barely able to brace himself before Henry jumped in his arms.

“Henry!” he cried, surprised. “What are you doing here? How was your first week of school?”

“I’m coming too,” Henry said. Killian turned quizzical eyes on Emma as she approached. He wasn’t sure a beach party with teens and adults was a good place for Henry to be. “School was great!” he exclaimed. “Miss Jones is so nice. We have math and art and reading. We sing songs and have lots of fun.”

“I’m so glad you had a good week, Henry,” he told the boy. “Belle, I mean, Miss Jones, is having a great time as your teacher, too. She says you’re so smart, but should maybe be going to bed at night a little earlier so you’re not so tired in the morning,” he said, bopping Henry on the nose, making him giggle. Killian hated to think of such a small boy not having the kind of care he needed to make sure he was getting a good night's sleep every night. As Emma finally approached, Killian caught her eye and was reminded of her own sleeping habits.

Emma sighed as she ran her fingers through Henry’s brown hair. “He’s almost as bad as I am about sleeping,” she bemoaned. “I do make him turn out the lights at 11 though. He’s just a night owl, like me.”

Killian nodded. “Belle said he’s obviously very tired in the morning and has fallen asleep every day after lunch when she reads aloud to the class.”

“Yeah,” Emma agreed. “Then he’ll usually take about another hour or two nap when we get home from school.”

Emma started walking toward the beach, Killian still carrying Henry. He still wasn’t sure it was a good idea for the little boy to come to the party, but from the hints he’d gotten about their home life, he had a feeling that Emma was the only one who really cared for him and he couldn’t really blame her for wanting to bring him along. Maybe there’d be something there for him to enjoy, beach games or something like that. Killian felt good carrying Henry in his arms. As shy as he’d been that first time they met and then Monday too, it made Killian’s heart swell in his chest that he’d seemed to not only win Emma’s trust, but Henry’s as well.

The boardwalk was packed to the gills. As small as the town was, and especially now that school was in session, Killian was amazed at how all the town’s residents seemed to come out of the woodwork and descend on the entertainment venue. There was a movie theater, plenty of places to eat, an arcade, and a small amusement park with carnival rides at the end.

They descended the steps from the boardwalk to the beach and started heading north. After trekking along the beach for about ten minutes, they came to a good sized cottage. It was set back quite a ways from the water, but was just as far from the boardwalk, as well, giving it a sense of privacy from all the activity. It was an easy walk from the house to the boardwalk if the residents wanted to avail themselves of all the distractions offered there.

They entered the house to find it almost empty. There was a young man in the kitchen, raiding the refrigerator. He stood up when the door closed behind the three of them. He had olive skin and jet black hair and a nervousness about him that instantly put Killian on alert.

“Hi, Emma,” he said. “Who’s this?”

“This is Killian, Rufio,” she introduced. “He’s in my class at school and new in town, so I invited him tonight.”

“Nice to meet you, man,” Rufio said, lifting his chin in his direction.

“You, too,” Killian nodded. He put Henry down and watched him scamper away.

“Don’t worry about him,” Emma whispered to him. “He spends most of his time in the gameroom where the PS5 is.”

“Gotcha.” Emma led him into the kitchen where there was an assortment of food on the counter. They both filled their plates and then went out the back of the house to where the bonfire on the beach had just been lit. There were about twenty folks out there, dancing to the music or just sitting on the large logs that served as chairs for the gathering.

“There you are, Ems.” The man who’d done all the talking when the group came into the ice cream shop last week before school started approached them. “Who’s this?” He turned his dark eyes on Killian, and he felt a shiver of unease work its way down his spine. It was very similar to the feeling the group left him with the other night, and there wasn’t a doubt in Killian’s mind that this guy knew very well who he was. He glanced at Emma, who looked at the man with a puzzled expression on her face.

“Killian Jones,” he introduced himself, swallowing his nerves and holding his hand out in front of him. “I’m in Emma’s class at school.”

“Ah, yes, Any Given Sundae, right?” he asked, shaking his hand. Killian nodded. “Glad you could come tonight,” he said, the look in his eyes belying his words. There was a challenge in them, a distaste and arrogance that made Killian’s temper bristle. The man put his arm around Emma’s shoulders, and he could almost see her fold in on herself- her head bowed slightly, shoulders hunched, eyes darting around restlessly, not landing on anything for more than a moment. 

The man motioned to a couple of others near the fire that Killian couldn’t see well in the dark. A moment later, the other two from the ice cream shop joined them.

“I’m Neal, this is Peter, and this is Felix,” Neal finally introduced himself and his companions. When he turned back to Killian, any animosity there’d been earlier was completely gone. It was almost like he was putting on a show for someone. Peter and Felix’s smiles were similar. “We live here in the house, and you’re welcome to come hang out or visit anytime.”

Killian’s eyes darted to Emma, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze, just ratcheting up the tension inside him that much more. If Neal and the other men were going to put on a show, two could play at that game, Killian decided, plastering a smile on his own face.

“Thanks, man. I might take you up on that.” There was no way in hell he was going to leave Emma, or Henry either, behind with these men. She obviously felt trapped by Neal for some reason, and as long as she remained a part of this group, then Killian would too, doing what he could to protect her and help her escape.

As the night wore on, Killian really did have a good time. He was introduced to too many people to keep track of, most of them older, but Rufio, whom he’d met earlier, and a couple of others were a little younger than himself and Emma. The food was good and he did get to spend a little one-on-one time with Emma when Neal, Peter and Felix disappeared for a while.

As the party and the bonfire were winding down, the only people left were himself, Emma, the hosts, and Henry, who’d come outside a little while earlier. He sat on the sand, his head laying in Emma’s lap as she stroked his hair soothingly.

“I need to be getting Henry home,” Emma said quietly. “He needs his sleep.”

Neal laughed derisively. “He’s fine, Ems. Let’s have one more drink,” he proposed, holding up an oddly shaped bottle. “A welcome to Storybrooke drink for Killian.” The cunning look he shot around the group was mirrored by the other two men and set Killian’s teeth on edge.

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Killian protested. “I don’t drink. I’ve had a problem with it in the past. Before I moved here,” he explained.

Felix snorted. “Awwww, can someone not hold their liquor?” he taunted.

Neal shot a warning glance at Felix before looking at Killian. “Ignore him. It’s not alcohol,” he assured him. That cunning look passed between the men again. “It’s our own special brew. You have my word, you can’t get drunk on it.” 

He turned to Emma, who sat in between him and Neal. He knew Neal was telling the truth, but there was definitely more to the situation than met the eye and he wanted to try and see what Emma thought about it.

Neal spoke again. “Emma had some earlier this summer. It’s a bit of an initiation into the group. It will make you one of us.” Neal’s dark eyes almost glowed as he handed Killian the bottle. He reached out and took it in his hand, unable to look away from Neal’s gaze.

He barely heard Emma’s whispered words. “You don’t have to. It’s blood.”

Killian snorted, quite certain he’d misheard her. “Yeah, right.” He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a long swig, his surroundings starting to spin. He tipped his head back- Emma, his other companions, and the beach all disappearing- and felt himself falling, falling, falling, until he landed on his bed.

It felt like only moments later that Killian opened his eyes. The light streaming in his room was that of late afternoon. Killian blinked and shielded his eyes from the bright, direct sunlight. He could barely see anything. His head was spinning and pounding like he hadn’t felt since he dried up in rehab over a year ago. He was still dressed in his clothes from the night before and his mouth had a metallic taste in it that was making his stomach protest mightily. He sat up slowly, mindful of his rolling stomach. Whatever it was he’d drunk the night before at the bonfire, had done quite a number on his system. He put his feet on the floor and his head in his hands. The darkness there was a profound relief, and the dizziness and pounding headache were suddenly gone. The nausea was even greatly diminished. He buried his eyes in the corner of one elbow as he sought the pull string that would close the blinds covering his window with his other hand. As soon as he found it, he closed them and looked up. It was dark enough in the room that the pounding in his head was still kept at bay.

He rose from the bed and moved to the door of his room, cracking it open. The hallway was dark, and he could hear someone in the kitchen, but that was all. He shut the door again and gathered some clean clothes. He had work this evening, and he hoped a hot shower and maybe some scrambled eggs would make him feel well enough to be able to go.

About thirty minutes later, Killian came out of his bedroom ready for work. Belle was in the kitchen, getting the ingredients together for supper. She jumped slightly when Killian entered.

“There you are!” she exclaimed. “Take those sunglasses off, Killian,” she admonished him lightly. “You’re in the house. You don’t need them.” 

“I’ve got a terrible headache, Belle,” Killian said, grabbing her attention. “Would you mind just scrambling me some eggs? I’ve got to leave for work in a few minutes.”

Her brow furrowed in concern. “Are you sure you’re up to working tonight, Killian?” she asked, getting the eggs out. “You were out so late last night and you’ve slept all day and now you have this headache.” She moved toward him and placed her hand against his forehead. “You don’t feel warm, though. You didn’t do anything last night you shouldn’t have, did you?”

He knew exactly where her thoughts had gone and he couldn’t really blame her, not with how he was feeling. “I’m not sick,” he assured her. “I was at a beach party last night with Emma and no, I didn’t drink any alcohol and there weren’t any drugs around, that I know of. I promise. I just need something to eat to settle my stomach and take the edge off of the headache. I’m fine to work.”

“If you’re sure,” she said, her voice skeptical in the extreme. “But you come straight home after work and get a good night’s sleep tonight.”

“I will, Belle. Thank you.” 

As soon as she set the eggs before him, he dug in. They really did make him feel better. His headache was abated and the nausea was gone. 

“Thanks, Belle,” he said, rising and kissing her on the cheek. “That was exactly what I needed. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Have a good shift, Killian.”

~*~*~

Killian sat down next to Emma on Monday and immediately put his head down in his arms on the desk. 

“You look like I feel,” she said, a wan smile on her face.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” he mumbled into his arms. “I’ve hardly slept this weekend. Since the party Friday night, I slept almost all day Saturday, worked Saturday night, didn’t fall asleep until sometime after four, slept until about ten, then couldn’t sleep last night.” He groaned. “How am I supposed to stay awake and concentrate all day?”

Emma put her hand on his arm in sympathy. “I know how you feel,” she commiserated.

“Belle almost made me stay home today, but with the history test tomorrow and Pre Cal test Wednesday, I couldn’t afford to miss.” He raised his head and looked at her. “We’re gonna have to keep each other awake today,” he told her, smiling tiredly.

“Deal,” she said.

That afternoon, they left school together, Henry in between them holding both their hands. Killian shut his eyes as they emerged into the light.

“Man, I forgot how bright that sun is outside the building,” he bemoaned, reaching into his shirt pocket for his sunglasses. Once he got them on, he could open his eyes fully. Turning to Emma, he saw she had hers on as well. Henry squinted against the sunlight.

“You need sunglasses, too, huh, Henry?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” he said. 

As they approached their cars in the parking lot, Killian looked at Emma. “Would you guys like to come to my house to study?” he asked shyly, scratching behind his ear in nervousness. 

Neal had made it quite obvious at the party that he and Emma were together, even if she didn’t seem to be as enamored of him as he was possessive of her. Killian couldn’t deny how he felt about Emma, but he didn’t want to be seen by anyone as trying to steal her away from Neal. As friendly as he’d been at the party, Killian didn’t trust Neal as far as he could throw him and didn’t want to ruffle any feathers until either he was certain Emma and Henry were safe, or he could get them away from Neal and the others completely.

“We could study for the history and Pre Cal tests while Henry takes a nap,” he continued.

Emma looked down at Henry, catching him in the middle of a huge yawn. “What do you think, Henry?” she asked. “Want to go over to Killian’s?”

The poor kid was obviously exhausted, but he grinned anyway, nodding his assent.

“You can follow me,” Killian said. “It’s not far.”

Emma smirked as she opened the door to her yellow bug for Henry to climb in the back. “It’s Storybrooke, Killian. Nothing is far.”

Killian huffed out a chuckle and grinned. “Point taken.” 

The rest of the week continued much the same way. Killian was unable to fall asleep until the wee hours of the morning and spent the morning hours at school struggling to stay awake and concentrate, exactly the way Emma did. He did everything he could to keep his difficulties away from Belle and Liam, but Belle was very observant and by Friday afternoon, Killian knew that she suspected something was up with him. 

He lay in his bed with the blinds closed feigning sleep when he heard Belle come in the front door. It was only a few moments later that she knocked on his door and cracked it open.

“Killian,” she called softly. “I know you’re not asleep,” she continued after a brief pause. “You snore, loudly, when you’re really asleep.” He could hear the smirk in her tone of voice, so he turned over and faced the door.

“Excuse you,” he groused. “I do not snore.”

“You do,” Belle insisted, coming into the room and sitting on the end of the bed. She looked at him, her eyes full of concern, and Killian cut his eyes away from her. “What’s going on, Killian?” she asked. “Archie stopped me after school today and told me that you’ve been much less attentive in your classes this week than you were last week. That you didn’t participate as much and looked to be having trouble staying awake.”

Killian sat up on his bed and rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know, Belle. All last weekend and this week, I haven’t been able to sleep at night. No matter how tired I am, or what time I go to bed, I toss and turn until almost dawn. And then the alarm goes off at seven.”

“You can’t keep that up, Killian,” she said. “Maybe if you took a sleeping aid.”

“I don’t want to do that unless I absolutely have to,” he said. “I’m off work this weekend, so I don’t have to worry about being up early until Monday. Let me try to get caught up on sleep this weekend- even if I’m sleeping during the day- and see how next week goes. We don’t have any tests until Thursday, so if I need to take a sleeping aid Wednesday night, I will.”

Belle pressed her lips into a thin line, but nodded her acquiescence and rose to leave. “What are you doing tonight?” she asked from the door.

“I was going to take a short nap then meet Emma and Henry at the boardwalk in a few hours. We were going to take him to the amusement park.”

“Ok,” she said. “Robert asked me out…”

Killian sat up abruptly. “The headmaster?” he interrupted.

Belle nodded. “He’s taking me to dinner.”

Killian’s brows furrowed. Belle was a grown woman, but Gold had to be nearly twice her age, and he couldn’t help a small shudder of distaste at the much older man pursuing his sister.

“You like him then?” he asked.

“He’s handsome,” she began, “and he’s been very kind to me. Yes, I do like him.”

Killian swallowed his objection. “Ok. As long as you do. But if he hurts you, I don’t care who he is, he’ll have to answer to me.”

Belle smiled indulgently and came back over to his bed. She leaned down and hugged him tightly. 

“Thanks, Killian. I’m sure that knowledge will keep him in line.” She released him and moved back toward the door. “Have fun tonight. I’ll see you later.” With those words, she left him to sleep for a little while.

Later that night, Killian, Emma, and Henry arrived at the amusement park. He did his best to ignore the plethora of MISSING posters covering every available surface along the boardwalk, including one featuring the face of the boy he’d met last weekend at the beach party, Rufio. How a town as small as Storybrooke could have this many missing people was a complete mystery to him. It was very unsettling, but he figured as long as they stayed together and in the well-lit areas of the boardwalk and amusement park, they wouldn’t have to worry.

It was the first time Killian had been there, and he couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he and Emma followed Henry who ran from ride to ride, so excited to be there. They ate dinner from a Mexican food truck near the entrance and then indulged in all the carnival food offered inside the park. 

It really was a tiny amusement park with only ten rides offered. Henry loved them all, and they all rode them multiple times. Henry sat between them on the ferris wheel, but Killian was able to extend his arm along the back of the seat they rode in, lightly touching Emma’s shoulders. He brushed his fingers through her golden hair, and she turned to him with a soft smile on her face at the action. Killian’s heart rate picked up a little bit and he smiled in return. 

After a couple of hours amusing themselves with the rides and games offered at the park, they decided to leave and see what else there was to do. They walked along sharing a Rocky Road cone when Neal, Felix, and Peter suddenly appeared, slinking out of the darkness underneath the boardwalk. 

“There you are, babe,” Neal said, sidling up to her and putting his arm around her shoulders. 

Just like last Friday, Emma seemed to shrink in on herself at the action. Henry took Killian’s hand, and he looked down, surprised. The discomfort on the boy’s face was real, so Killian squeezed his hand gently in reassurance. The child looked up, his brown eyes meeting his own, and Killian caught his breath at the absolute trust he saw in the boy’s gaze. Killian smiled, recommitting himself to being a part of this group until he could get Emma and Henry out of it.

“Come on,” Neal urged. “I want to show you guys something.”

They followed Neal to the other end of the boardwalk until they came to a fancy restaurant. Killian looked in the front window and was shocked to see Belle and Mr. Gold on their date. He looked ahead at Neal, who’d let Emma go, as he opened the door. Emma wasted no time falling back to join him and Henry at the back of the group.

“What are we doing here?” Killian asked, coming to a stop before entering. “Emma, Henry, and I have already eaten, so why don’t we just catch up with you later?”

Neal exchanged smirks with Peter and Felix before directing his attention to Killian. “Oh, we’re not here to eat. We just need to pay an old friend a visit.”

His emphasis on the word ‘friend’ told Killian something was up, and he might be well served to see what it was. He moved toward where Neal still stood, holding the door open for them. 

Once inside, Neal moved to the front of the group and began to lead the way through the restaurant. Killian’s eyes immediately moved to Belle and her date, and it only took a moment for him to realize that was exactly where they were heading.

As Neal approached, Mr. Gold turned and saw them. He stood immediately and moved closer to Belle on the other side of the table, partially shielding her from view.

“I thought I told you to leave me alone.” Killian was at the back of the group, but he could clearly hear Gold growl the words at Neal.

“Oh, we’re not here for you, old man,” he said, his hand held out to Belle. She hesitated before placing her hand in his, but when she finally did, he lifted it to his lips. Killian couldn’t actually see Neal’s face as he spoke, but he knew exactly the look his countenance sported from the tone of his voice. A wide smile. Lifeless eyes. Soulless. Depraved. It made Killian want to throw up. He clenched his fists, almost shaking in his desire to forcefully get Neal away from his sister. But he wasn’t going to make a scene while she was on her date. 

“Just wanted to share a little advice with the lady.” He lowered her hand and tilted his head toward Gold. “You want to watch out for that one. Things are not always what they seem.”

Neal released Belle’s hand and turned around to leave. Before he could turn and follow, Gold caught Killian’s eyes.

“This isn’t the kind of group you want to be hanging around, Mr. Jones,” he advised. “Miss Swan and Henry either. They can only lead you down the wrong path.” Belle turned alarmed eyes on Killian before they landed on Henry. But she didn’t speak. Killian wrapped his arm protectively around Henry’s chest and drew him closer as they started to turn away from the table, trying to assure Belle with his eyes that he’d keep Henry safe.

Once they were outside the restaurant again, Neal, Peter, and Felix were obviously in high spirits, laughing and high-fiving one another. Killian really didn’t see why they were so elated, so he just hung back with Emma and Henry. A few moments later, the three men turned their attention to them.

“Ok,” Neal said, clapping his hands together. “I think it’s time for Killian to fully join our crew. Whadda ya say, boys?” Felix and Peter loudly agreed, but Emma looked absolutely panicked and brought Henry in front of her, almost as a shield.

“I have to get Henry home,” Emma insisted. She turned to Killian and placed a hand on his arm. Pure, unadulterated fear swirled in her eyes. Whatever was happening here, Emma didn’t want to be involved, and she didn’t want him involved, either.

“Yeah, whatever, Ems,” Neal said before grabbing her around the waist and hauling her to him. Killian turned away as Neal kissed her, focussing his attention on Henry.

“I’ll see you later, Henry. Ok?” he asked, kneeling down in front of the boy. Henry nodded and took Emma’s hand when she made her way to them. She looked down at Henry, not meeting Killian’s eyes.

Her whisper just reached his ears as he turned toward the other three men. “I’m sorry. Be safe. Please.” He turned his head to answer her, but she was already walking away with Henry further down the boardwalk. He turned back to the others, their eyes almost glowing under the lights.

Felix moved toward him and draped his arm over Killian’s shoulders.

“Come on, man,” he said. “We’re gonna show you a really good time.” Peter got on the other side of him, and they all started walking towards the stairs down to the beach. Once they reached the sand, they started running toward the cottage in the distance, whooping and hollering, their arms outstretched. Running on the sand was hard, and Killian was having a difficult time keeping up when suddenly all three of them disappeared. Killian put on a burst of speed to catch up with them, when he was grabbed and pulled behind the rocks surrounding a secluded inlet of the ocean. 

It all happened too fast for Killian to even cry out, but when he looked at the others, Neal slammed his hand over his mouth before what he was seeing could even be translated by his brain. All three men had changed. They were still recognizable, but their smiles were now dominated by long and wickedly sharp fangs, and their eyes had become translucent, their irises now a faded gold nearly matching the whites of their eyes and almost eclipsing their tiny pupils, making them look like some sort of monster. But that was exactly what they were. Three vampires looked at him hungrily, and Killian was completely helpless before them.

He was pulled along by Felix to the other side of the inlet to see a small group of six or seven people splashing around in the water. The three vampires descended upon their unsuspecting prey and made short work of every single person there. Their screams were short lived- drowned out by the sound of the ocean, and then abruptly cut off as the monsters began to feast. 

He recognized the metallic smell on the air from the wholesale slaughter happening just a few feet away as the same taste in his mouth when he woke last Saturday after drinking whatever Neal had given him. Emma had been telling him the truth. It was blood he had been given that night. Killian thrust his hand into his mouth to smother his own screams that begged for release, only to taste his own blood from where his fangs pierced the skin of his hand. Pulling his hand from his mouth, he stared, horrified, at the blood dripping down his arm. 

It seemed only moments later that the three of them stood before him once again, completely covered with the blood and gore of their victims. Killian looked to where they had all been, to see nothing but the calm water of the inlet, no trace of the massacre that had just occurred.

“You are one of us now, Killian,” Neal said, licking his lips. “And you must feed. The sooner you make your first kill, the better. For the longer you wait, the stronger the bloodlust will become, until you have no control over it at all. And then,” he shrugged, a slight smile lifting the corner of his lips, “who knows what might happen?”

Killian knew to what, or rather to whom, Neal was referring. If he didn’t make his first kill soon, he’d lose control and hurt someone he loved- Emma, Belle, Henry, or Liam. A wave of nausea came over him, and he turned away vomiting up everything he’d consumed earlier. As soon as he was finished, he ran, ran, ran, back to the boardwalk, through the throngs of people until he made it to his car. He tore out of the parking lot and raced home, locking himself in his bedroom.

He curled up in the middle of his bed, sobbing uncontrollably, waiting for sleep to claim him, knowing it was an impossible hope.

~*~*~

Thank you for reading and reblogging!! I'd love to hear what you think!! The final chapter will be up on Friday!

[archoneddzs15]

Sega Mega Drive - Doraemon

Title: Doraemon / ドラえもん 夢どろぼうと７人のゴザンス

Developer/Publisher: Sega CS / G-Sat / Nexus Interact / Winds

Release date: 26 March 1993

Catalogue No.: G-4094

Genre: Platformer

A very enjoyable, beautifully presented little cart that is too short-lived because of easy gameplay and a plentiful supply of extra lives. But then again, this is a Doraemon title, so I guess it is really meant to be easy to cater to kids?

The packaging for the whole game is quite kiddie in nature. Not only do you get the game, but you also get a stationery set bundled in. Includes 3 pencils, an aluminum pencil case, and a rubber eraser. The game's cover, as seen above, is only part of the experience, though.