Text
Ao3 has been down so long I made a short animatic
#adding another thing to the list of drawings never to be finished#I get bored easily so i just do a bunch of sketches then one finished piece that’s like a gift for a friend or smth#this is supposed to be speeding bullet but it can be whatever you want it to be ig#tumblr ruins the quality pretend it ain’t bad 👍#my art#tf2#scout tf2#miss pauling#miss pauling tf2#speeding bullet#moochiposts
208 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! I just read your yan!Doll x reader and I was wondering if you were willing to elaborate or make little headcannons of the like of how living together with him is?
If your asks aren't open right or your just Tired feel free to ignore! :D
And could I become an anon? since I believe I'll be staying on this block for a while
And if I were allowed to become an anon could I be 🍰 anon?
HIIII :33 it would be my honor to elaborate!!!!! And congrats for being my first anon! <3 adding 🍰 anon to my list rn c: it’s a bit long so I apologize
꩜ .ᐟ Angelo first and foremost is like a tattoo, once you get it there is no way to remove it permanently, that’s basically what life with him is.
꩜ .ᐟ Angelo will wake up, fresh faced and motivated again for another day with you, he wakes up like a literal princess, not the slightest sign of eye bags or even morning pimples, his hair perfect and tidy, well.. He is a doll.
꩜ .ᐟ He always manages to get up before you, by the time you wake up a sweet aroma of food would waft into your nose, what was he? Fucking Gordon Ramsay?
꩜ .ᐟ he will always add a special nutrition to your food! He never tells you to though.. Whenever you ask he just gets red in the face and slightly sweaty before dodging the question.. sigh.
“Oh. Well, It’s just my.. haha.. Eat up, darling! I made this food with all my love~!”
꩜ .ᐟ Angelo’s food always has a slightly salty taste, not enough to ruin your meal, but it would be better if it didn’t have it.
꩜ .ᐟ You spend the rest of your time doing whatever you wish, playing PS4, drawing, crocheting, you name it—Angelo will be there to ‘supervise’ you activities, supervise meaning stare at you for hours on end without blinking.
꩜ .ᐟ Angelo who always has to stop himself from punching a hole into your TV or incinerating your possessions, he hates when your attention isn’t on him, he lives off your attention, praise and degradation.. So what does he do to fix it?
꩜ .ᐟ who you see raging from the corner of your eye, his usually pitch black eyes glinting with red.
“Angelo, is something wrong?”
“no! How about you take a break from.. That, and we cuddle for a little? Does that sound good?”
꩜ .ᐟ Angelo’s jealousy can be dangerous if you trigger it, he will leave for a little with his doll, before coming back with crimson blotches on his white attire.
꩜ .ᐟ Angelo will make your possessions disappear, they always appear again after a bit of time, they will have strange stains on them though, you always put them to wash though, god knows what he does with your blanket of all things.
꩜ .ᐟ Angelo will sit and stare at himself in the mirror, it’s strange and unsettling, it gives you the heebie jeebies but you never say anything, he almost seems dissatisfied while he looks at himself in the mirror.
꩜ .ᐟ he wants nothing more but for you to bite his skin and leave deep bruises on his almost Snow White skin.. He is just too shy to say anything though, demons bond in that way, bites is claiming possession over each other, he knows you are human and don’t follow along but.. The thought just makes him so excited!
꩜ .ᐟ Angelo finishes his day by making out with you, allowing your tongue to shove itself into his mouth, saliva binding the both of you in a passionate session.
꩜ .ᐟ Angelo watches as you use your tooth brush, he licks his lips, thinking of what he could do with that tooth brush..
꩜ .ᐟ Angelo sleeps in your clothing, the thing he adores most, your scent entering his nostrils, he likes to put you under his shirt, so he can feel your warm skin against his cold skin.
꩜ .ᐟ Angelo kisses your head while you are asleep, wrapping his legs around you and resting his cheek against your forehead.
꩜ .ᐟ He will sometimes cry out of happiness to be here with you, he will cry out of love, his eyes will become swollen, his lips red from biting them, his heart beats solely for you, he went as far to carve your name into his heart’s flesh.
#yandere x reader#yandere#male yandere#smilesyanderes#dom fem reader#dom gn reader#male yandere x reader#fem reader#gender neutral reader#gn reader#🍰 anon#Smilesanswers
156 notes
·
View notes
Note
Cute spooky spirt idea.
A Natasha x reader fic where reader isn't a huge fan of Halloween but nat love Halloween so she tries to get reader to enjoy it more. Probably fluff or something like that, just thought it was a neat idea.
-🌛
A Spooktacular Challenge
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Plus Size! Reader
Summary: Nat gets you to enjoy Halloween.
Fluff & Teeny Tiny Angst
Warnings: Brief mention of Body image insecurities | 1.4K
Translations: Detka (baby)
AC: Thank you for sending this! I decided to make this for all the curvy girlies out there, I hope that’s okay! Enjoy! x
October Special Masterlist 2024
Your favorite album played softly in the background of the study while you added some finishing touches to a drawing you had been working on over the last few days. Since October had officially arrived, you made a list of different activities you could do to avoid having to involve yourself in the holiday. You had never been a fan of Halloween, the over-the-top costumes and children shrieking in joy followed by the overdone decorations that littered the neighborhood and not to mention the sudden jump in Halloween movies being promoted had definitely made Halloween at the bottom of the list of your favorite holidays.
Natasha, your girlfriend on the other hand, loved Halloween. She lived for the spooky season with her love for horror movies, her sweet tooth, coming up with a different costume each year and handing out candy to those who knocked on the front door. You didn’t like to express too much of your dislike for Halloween around her, she was like a child herself when October arrived, but she knew you didn’t enjoy the holiday as much as she did.
“Babe! I’m home!” You heard Natasha call out. A soft smile tugged at your lips at the sound of her voice, even after being together for three years she still managed to make you smile just by her voice.
“In the study!” You called back, adding another line of detail to your drawing.
Natasha opened the door, pushing it wide open with the bags of shopping she had in her hands before she dumped them at her feet, excited to show you everything she had brought. You placed your pencil down, away from your drawing before you spun around on the office chair to face your excited girlfriend whose smile was wide and bright.
“You brought more decorations?” You asked with a cocked brow. Nat nodded proudly, “just a few more things to add to the display!” She replied before she reached down into one of the bags and pulled out a box that had an inflatable ghost inside, “the neighbourhood kids are going to love all this!” She boosted.
You watched as Nat pulled out more decorations, a skeleton cat in a laying position, a few skull battery operated candles, more fake cobwebs, some fake flying bats and two black cat light up Jack O' Lanterns.
“I thought maybe we could put them up together” Nat said with begging eyes.
You chuckled at the thought, “sorry baby but Halloween is your thing, remember? Besides, you wouldn’t want me to help, I wouldn’t make it look very spooky”
Nat wandered over to you before leaning down and capturing your lips in a soft, deep kiss. “What about now?” She asked, causing you to smile against her lips.
“Very sweet of you, my love, but still n-“
She cut you off with another kiss, this one longer. “pretty please?” Natasha begged sweetly.
You sighed lightly, the smile on your lips not fading, “Fine, but I’m only helping because you’re so cute when you’re excited”
Natasha smiled once more, “That’s the spirit! We’re going to make this the best Halloween ever! I’m going to take these out the front, bring a coat! It’s a little chilly!”
“I’ll be there in a moment” you replied.
As you and Nat finished up some of the decorations for the front yard, you couldn’t help but admire the happiness that Natasha got whenever somebody wandered past and complimented on how wonderful and spooky the house looked. Kids pointed and commented which added to Nat’s Halloween excitement.
Nat wrapped her arms around your soft waist, gently pulling you closer. “Thank you for all your help detka, I couldn’t have made all this look amazing without you”
“Oh please! this was all you” you chuckled, brushing a lock of her red hair behind her ear, “it looks amazing darling, really” you added with a soft smile.
“There is something I want to pitch to you” Nat said softly.
“Pitch away”
“I know you don’t like Halloween, but I thought this year you and I could do something, together, just us” she started, “we could have a cozy Halloween movie night with our favorite snacks, We can hand out candy to the kids, and then, maybe we could dress up as something cute together?”
Your eyes slightly dropped, “Nat, come on” you sighed, “you know how I feel about dressing up” you reminded her.
“I know darling, but I don’t want you to miss out on any fun, I would love to dress up with you and I promise, it’ll just be you, me and the kids that come knocking”
“Do you promise it’ll just be us? No last-minute Halloween parties or guest coming over?” You asked, locking eyes with her.
“I promise, just you and me” Nat replied, smiling softly before she kissed you.
----
Halloween was here and Natasha was beaming with excitement. Part of you felt excited for the cozy night in with your lover but the other part of you just wanted Halloween to be over with already. Nat had already set the living room up with lit candles, throw blankets on the sofa, an untouched bowl of popcorn in the center of the coffee table complimented with hot cocoa along with a small bowl of candy and other snacks.
Natasha was in the kitchen, finishing up the Halloween themed cupcakes she had just baked. She placed a few on a plate and added them to the coffee table of snacks. You couldn’t help but smile softly at her while her eyes traced over the living room with proudness, “everything is all set” she said.
“All this looks amazing!” You complimented as you made your way to the sofa.
“Thank you” she smiled, “but don’t get comfy yet! You’ve gotta get into your costume” she added with a playful wink.
“Oh, right! yes, the costume…I’ll be right back” you replied, giving her an unsure smile before you wandered back to the bedroom.
Your costume was already laid out on the bed, a white dress topped with a black leather jacket and a wig to finish the look. You almost hated that you weren’t going to be showing off your costume to others, especially when Nat helped you put everything together.
The dress sat perfectly on your body, flowing nicely over your curves, you couldn’t wait to show Nat the costume in full. You threw the leather jacket on and wandered into the bathroom to put on the wig and apply some light make up to complete the costume.
“Babe! I’m ready!” You called out before leaving the bathroom.
Natasha in her colorfully striped long sleeved shirt and denim overalls and her red locks a mess, smiled lovingly as you gave her little twirl in your dress. “Well, well, miss tiffany, you look divine!” She complimented, causing you to chuckle lightly.
“Thank you! You look very murderous!” You replied.
“Don’t worry, you’re safe with me!” Nat winked just as the door-bell rang. “Our first trick or treats for the night!” She almost jumped with excitement.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” You asked, “we have candy to give out and movies to watch!” You added as you reached for Nat’s hand. The two of you walking towards the front door together, you grabbed a couple of candy bars for the children who smiled happily as Nat answered the door.
“Trick or treat!” The two children in costumes sang in sync.
“Wow! You guys have awesome costumes!” Nat smiled, “happy Halloween!” She added as you kindly dropped the candy in their treat bag. “You both look amazing” you smiled at them.
“Thank you!” The children smiled before turning on their heels to return to their parents waiting patiently at the mailbox.
Natasha closed the door and smiled at you once more, “See, that wasn’t so bad” she said.
“I guess you’re right, Halloween can be fun. Did you see how big their smiles were?” You replied. Your words were like magic to Natasha as she gently wrapped her arms around you, “I knew one day I would get you to enjoy Halloween, and I think this year I won”
“Calm down chucky, it’s only the start of the night!” You said teasingly before softly kissing her, “besides, I’m just doing all this for the cuddles and movies” you added with a playful wink.
“Oh, I’m sure that’s true!” Natasha chuckled, “come on, let’s go start a movie” she added.
Taglist: @boredandneedfanfics | @music-4ever | @karmasgxrl | @milkeeteaa | @marvelwomen-simp | @swaqcenix | @mostlymarvelsstuff | @scarlettbitchx | @mallyka-blog | @itsalwaysskorpioszn | @angel68104 | @x-natsarrownecklace-x | @caporal-nino | @natashamaximoff-69 | @evilcr0ne | @boredandneedfanfics | @teganmiller | @ihavezeroclue13 | @tobiaslut | @anonwhowrites | @itsmelulu | @koinsss | @cigarsandscotchallday | @nuianced-tck-enby | @springsheep | @prentgarcialuvr | @stayevildarling | @mommysgoodlittlebrat | @marvelnatasha12346 | @mrromanoff | @starryskiesandboys |
If you want to be on the taglist for my work, please click HERE.
#yelenasdiary asks#🌛 anon#fanfiction#marvel#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x you#flufftober
143 notes
·
View notes
Text
7 - Playing with Fire
Princess Red Thief
Part 8
Tag list - just ask to be added @mystrey101 @melvia-ito @kmc1989 @tallrock35
I thrashed and kicked in every way that I could with the two nurses who were trying to tie me down to the bed and give me some medicine in the very few short hours that I had been forced to be locked up here. "Get off me - ah get off!"
"We are trying to help you, Ms. Royal." One said back.
I managed to get my elbow out and hit one of them in the face where he stumbled back into the wall. "I don't need to be down here!"
"Contact the mayor and see what she wants done to her." One female nurse called out into the hallway.
I knew that the mayor didn't like Emma being here and the fact that she was encouraging his beliefs in the childhood tales. I never imagined she would think I was helping her and be placed in a place like this. "Ms. Royal, stop fighting please."
"Never. You asshole nurses!" I growled baring my teeth at the blonde nurse.
Another nurse came from the hallway carrying a needle filled with something inside the vial. "This should help her calm down until we get further instruction."
"You'll have to catch me first." I kicked the other nurse onto the floor heading towards the open hospital room door until the nurse with the syringe grabbed my arms holding me tightly. "Ahh! No...no...Gold."
The nurse I had kicked got up from the ground and caught my body when my eyes began feeling heavy. I heard someone familiar talking to the front desk worker. "Where is Ms. Royal?"
"Eve Royal was scheduled to be put under psychiatric care." The worker responded.
Gold's voice I would recognize anywhere was the last thing I heard before I blacked out and I swear I could hear panic in his tone. "Who the hell authorized that! Eve!"
The sound of the spinning wheel was the only noise being heard throughout the old castle. Reading the magical book of drawings and foreign words that I had laid out before me on the long table. "We've already finished our lessons for today. I would have thought you'd made your way home by now."
"I want to get a handle on this spell. If I don't then things could go wrong if my mother finds out the truth." I slumped my shoulders, not lifting my gaze from the book.
Rumplestilskin rose from his spinning wheel hands behind his back walking over to me. "You're really concerned about what she thinks aren't you."
"She's my mother. With my father being trapped she's all I have left at the moment." Flipping to the next page I read the word that dept with creating fire in my hands or creating it out of thin air.
The dark one paused behind me eyeing the page that I was reading at the moment. "If you're so close as you say you are, why are you so nervous of her reaction?"
"I'm not that nervous." I replied until I sucked in a breath feeling his front pressing up against my back. "Rumple...what are you doing?"
His breath whispered in my ear. "If you're not nervous then why haven't you told her yet?"
"I...I have my reasons." I held my breath.
He kept on with teasing me. "What are the reasons?"
"You don't need to know considering they are my reasons and none of your business-" I cut myself short spinning around on my feet forgetting how close he was to me. Now face to face his nose was pressing against mine.
Rumpe smirked, stepping back away from me. "The same thing I say when I make deals with anyone who asks why I want a certain thing from them."
"I'm going back to my book now." Moving my attention back to the book pages, my hair falling in front of my face. Scanning the pages I did my best to translate the word off the page. "In...incendi."
Rumple watched me closely with my nails tapping away on the wood. "I'm intrigued you would want to learn the fire spell, dearie."
"Please stop distracting me." Shutting my eyes tightly I huffed under my breath. My hands turned into fists and I felt that I could feel flames coursing through my veins. "In...Incendia."
Instantly after the word left my mouth the book in front of me lit up in flames and I stumbled backwards tripping over the ends of my red cloak "Everly...woah...woah I've got ya." I heard Rumple's voice call out for me, managing to catch my body when I fell in the direction of his arms.
"Uh...thank you, Rumple." I whispered, clinging onto the leather clothes he wore. He had his arms wrapped around my waist now.
The dark one stared at me silently for a few minutes before he muttered a reply back. "You're welcome, Everly." I wasn't sure what came over me at the time but I felt my body lean forward into his. His brown eyes met mine and to my surprise we both leaned in to kiss the other. Once we closed the gap we ended up kissing for a brief moment until he pushed me backwards. "You need to be more careful. You're lucky you didn't burn my whole castle down."
"I'm sorry, Rumple." I apologize watching him walk away past the now destroyed book on the table. Covering my lips with the tips of my fingers I was left feeling so conflicted.
Gold's pov
"What have you done with Everly!" Kicking open her mayor office door I didn't care what people heard in our conversation. She had done something to her and I needed to know why immediately. The office door hit the wall and then slammed shut behind me.
Regina put her paperwork down on her desk. "I think you mean Eve. There's no Everly in this town."
"Stop toying with me. I went looking for her when she didn't show up at work before I got a call from the hospital saying they were admitting her. Given that I am her emergency contact." I glared at the woman in front of me.
She clicked her tongue. "She began speaking foreign languages and encouraged the idea to my son that his book is all true. I simply thought she needed some mental help."
"She has done nothing to you. Leave her out of this feud between you and Ms. Swan." I gripped the handle of my cane.
Regina didn't seem fazed by what she was doing. Since the night I had woken up I knew my former student was all alone not knowing who she was and that both her parents were alive. "I'm not worried about you trying to break the curse. But I don't know her well enough to assume she isn't a threat."
"I'm getting her out and if you come after her again I promise you there will be suffering!" I threatened the queen not caring what power she thought she had over me.
The queen chuckled dryly. "I'm not afraid of you. Besides I know just who to hurt in order to hurt you."
"You won't succeed, your majesty!" Spinning around on my feet I stormed out of her office. She just looked back at her papers planning her next move, not afraid of the Dark One in a realm that she was currently running.
Comments really appreciated ❤️
#rumplestiltskin#ouat rumple#wattpad fanfiction#ask box is open for feedback#comments really appreciated#rumple x reader#ouat rumplestilskin x reader#robert carlyle#rumplestilskin x reader#robin hood#oc : princess everly#amanda seyfried#ouat fic#ouat fanfic#ouat fanfiction#ouat#ouat princess abigail#ouat prince fredrick#emma swan#henry mills#regina mills#ouat snowing#enchanted forest#storybrooke#magic#thief#the dark one#tvd fire#ouat x reader#the evil queen
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
“If you end up drawing something magnificent, in contrast to the apple I would be drawing,” Magnus grumbles.
Alec chuckles before kissing Magnus on his cheek. “This isn’t a competition.”
“Speak for yourself,” Magnus shoots back.
He snorts, “Then we both know who is winning.”
“Excuse you, have you forgotten that I’m a designer and draw professionally.”
“You design clothes. This is different.”
“Snob,” Magnus mumbles.
He paints a beautiful picture of Makkaser, and it had Magnus’s small house situated at the end.
“I’m done.”
Magnus hides his sheet from his view and squeals, “No. I need another ten minutes.”
“Is this a talking Apple?” Alec grins.
“Fuck off.”
He throws his head back and lies comfortably. They’re both sitting on the floor, takeout next to them with a glass of wine in both their hands.
It’s heartbreakingly domestic.
There are things about people that you only learn after living with them for a long time. Alec still finds out new things about his kids every day.
He wonders how many things about each other they’d never get to know.
Magnus finishes his painting and squeals in joy, “I’m done.”
“Show.”
“First you.”
Alec huffs before turning his sheet. A beautiful smile appears on Magnus’s face.
“It’s gorgeous. And I hate you and your impeccable artistry.”
|| Alec Lightwood is happy. He has a supportive family, kids he adores more than anything in the world, and a job that allows him to support his kids' expensive lifestyles. He is happy and content.
However, Alec's kids are ready to move out when he meets Magnus again, twenty years since they broke up.
Alec and Magnus had a whirlwind romance in Paris two decades back. They fell in love instantly—and hard. But life pushed them away, and they went their separate ways.
A chance encounter brings the two back into each other's lives.
Will they fight the odds together this time and get the life their past selves promised each other?
A story about love, loss, and everything that follows. ||
Final Chapter of But This Love Is Ours
tag list: @elettralightwood @khaleesiofalicante @noah-herondale-lightwood @carelessflower @anarchistbitch @dustandducks @pocketoffeels @literallytypogod @thepaintedladycollection @thelightofthebane @ignisaurumprobat9 @magnus-the-maqnificent @raziyekroos @dandeliononthemoon @delightfullyterrible @alec-not-alright-wood @kita-no @learningshelfcontrol @lifeofpatterns (let me know if anyone wants to be added or removed)
#are yall shocked to by the timely updates cause I am??#but this love is ours#malec#magnus bane#alec lightwood#BTLIO#max lightwood bane#rafael lightwood bane#arianna lightwood bane
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
Waiting for the Night
Bruce Wayne x F!Reader
Chapter 20 - In the glow of the moon
Chapter 19; Masterlist Summary: Some conversations cannot be avoided. Especially when it is Bruce, who becomes impatient... Warnings: Swearing; angst. Too much talking. Author's Notes: Alas, we've made it. This is where the story ends *sniffles*. While I've got a short epilogue in mind, it's going to be more of a post scriptum, so I'm treating this as the conclusion to the journey. And what a journey it had been! 🥺 It only took me a year and a half to finish the series, but I'm so glad I did. Those idiots did not make it easy, but I'll sure miss them. This chapter is a long overdue punchline some of you had been waiting for. I hope it meets your expectations. Thank you for reading, waiting and supporting me in the very rocky process. You all made it much easier to convince my brain it was worth continuing 💕 And thank you, Shet, for dealing with my whining, doubts and endless drama - always grateful for you! Hope you all enjoy and let me know what you think? Tag list: @thecraziestcrayon, @kookiewastolen, @imimsy, @tuskens-mando, @sugarcoated-lame, @blue-aconite, @hypnoash, @rabbitdictionary, @nicklet94, @mcrmarvelloki, @shimmeringgrim, @ttae-yong, @freyadruid, @siriuslydestiny, @ms-dont-care, @raphaelaisabella, @itsmytimetoodream, @brightjimini, @castellandiangelo, @grunge-n-roses5 (let me know if you wanted to be removed/added).
(gif credit: @1038276637)
In the morning, you dared believe the universe must have a soft spot for you within its core. As soon as your eyes opened, your gaze noted two things. One, Bruce was gone. Two, there was a note with his handwriting on your bedside table.
Without letting your mind run away with the first fact, undoubtedly working itself into a spiral like no other you rolled over to pick up the page. The contents were simple: “Sorry I’m gone. The hospital called to say Alfred had been signed out, so I went to pick him up. See you soon.”
The spark of relief drowned out everything else as you dropped the paper onto the covers and smiled at the ceiling. Everything was still fucked. But this was something. Something that could take your mind off the reality. It was easy to admit that one thought. You missed Alfred. Missed his clever blue-grey eyes that saw through your bullshit. Maybe it was what you needed… Maybe.
The thought was a motivator to drag you out of bed and into the closet, absentmindedly searching for anything you could wear. The first proper wake-up of the morning came when you entered the ensuite and found yourself facing the mirror. Finding mussed hair and a red bruise on your neck. A few more below, scattered like flares across your body. Drawing attention to what happened. Making it impossible for you to deny it, even before yourself. A wave of shame rolled in your stomach, erasing the budding hunger. You turned your head the other way and never looked back until you were ready to leave the bathroom.
It was cold enough for a turtleneck, anyway.
The distraction kicked in as soon as you made your way downstairs. A chorus of voices could be heard coming from the kitchen. A sound you had not heard in the tower since the explosion. A quiet sigh of relief was all the noise you made as you headed into the room. Eager to see what was going on. Having reached the doorway, you peered inside. Bruce was the first one you saw, leaning against the kitchen counter with a timid yet bright smile. He seemed happy. Lighter than when you had first met him.
Another dangerous thought you did not want to entertain. Your gaze slipped over Bruce to settle on Alfred. He was leaning heavily on his cane, but no bandages were in sight anymore. Only a fading yellowish bruise and darker circles underneath his eyes. Dory was talking with him animatedly, her hands gesticulating broadly. A grin broke out on your face as you stepped through the threshold, immediately drawing attention to your arrival. All three pairs of eyes landed on you. Without meaning to, you met Bruce’s gaze first. The look in his eyes shifted, but his face was still open. As if he was happy to see you. Even after the previous night. You never had the time to pull that revelation apart.
“Glad to see you join us, darling” Alfred crossed the remaining space towards you with a bright smile.
Affection filled the caverns of your heart, making it impossible to get rid of that one feeling. The one that reminded you that you had not felt this welcomed anywhere in a very long time. That this, the three of them, almost felt like the home you had lost twenty years ago. You swallowed past the lump in your throat to reply, a cheeky smile masking the emotions tearing through your chest:
“Pardon me, I didn’t know we’ll be having a kitchen party” an answering scoff from Bruce was enough of a validation for the weak joke, “It’s good to see you back, Alfred” you met the butler’s gaze with a fond look of your own, not hiding just how much you had meant it.
You knew he understood, instantly adjusting his stance to open his arms and invite you in for a hug with a quiet croon:
“Oh, c’mere,” you did not need to be asked twice, returning the embrace with care, mindful of his lingering frailty.
But Alfred’s hug was everything but frail, instantly making you sink into the comforting touch you did not know you had missed. After a beat, aware of the company and the prolonged silence, you pulled back, squeezing his arms one last time. Over Pennyworth’s shoulder, you caught Bruce’s gaze again. The softness in his eyes was replaced with something more tender. Almost as if seeing you close to Alfred meant much more to him than he could say. You sent him a small smile as the butler spoke again:
“I see my boy at least had the decency to invite you to stay for longer” the older man threw a pointed look over his shoulder at Bruce before setting his piercing gaze back on you.
You did wonder whether the blush on your cheeks was as telling as you worried it might be. Because there was no escape from it.
“Of course, I-” Bruce’s offended rebuttal was never meant to be heard.
Only because you feared what he might say and whether you could mitigate the effects without the scene dissolving into chaos. You threw Bruce an apologetic smile and interrupted him with faux chirpiness:
“He did. At least until everything settles down in the city,” the apologetic note was not easily eradicated from your voice.
Because no matter what, you still felt like perhaps you were a nuisance to them. Like maybe you should have disappeared a long time ago and never bothered them again. But then Bruce was the one to ask… And the previous night, he seemed happy with you staying… You barely resisted shaking your head against the barrage of thoughts as Alfred remarked:
“Well, we’re certainly not short on space�� he glanced at Dory as if awaiting her approval.
You followed his gaze only to see the older woman smile at you warmly. Giving her blessing with your favourite question of the morning:
“Coffee?” she raised the mug to accentuate the gesture.
“From you? Always” there was no need to think as you flashed her your brightest grin and joined the woman by the counter.
Perhaps it was alright for you to stay. Just a little longer.
***
The illusion of peace lasted approximately 32 hours and 27 minutes. It shattered in the afternoon of the second day of Alfred’s return as Dory left the dining room table, leaving you alone with the older man. As if he had been waiting for the occasion to arise, Pennyworth instantly settled his heavy gaze on your face. You got as far as awkwardly clearing your throat before he launched the first question:
“How are you doing?” you knew the nonchalance in his tone was only a means of keeping you calm.
And making you stay at the table, despite the alarm bells in your head urging you to run away. Because hell knew Alfred was damn good at seeing through your bullshit. Unfortunately.
“I’m good,” you pasted what you hoped was a convincing smile.
Hoping it would be enough to deter him. Foolishly.
Alfred leaned forward, putting more weight onto his forearms as he levelled you with another long look:
“Are you?” your heart stumbled in your chest as if begging to say: No, I’m not; he paused, seemingly to find the right words before driving another striking blow, “Because it took me a little over a day to see that things are not exactly easy between you” you could see the tactful turn.
The exact moment when Alfred noticed he needed to be gentle with you. When he saw your fragility and discovered the cause without you needing to say it aloud. That need to run and hide only grew stronger.
“Well… we get on just fine” you shrugged, aware that it was a futile attempt on your side.
It wasn’t a lie. Even after that night, things were fine. As in, Bruce talked to you, still shared his work updates, and checked in on you throughout the day. But he kept his distance. And you tried your best not to dwell on the fact fearing the heartbreak that would follow if you did.
“I know that you do,” compassion in Alfred’s eyes told you he noticed it too, “But I also know Bruce. And I can see that he’s desperately trying to fix something, but he doesn’t know where to start” the hint of hurt in his face was enough to crack your heart.
It was one thing to know you had been hurting Bruce. Another to hear it from someone else. Someone who knew him more than you. A wave of shame threatened to drown you as you gasped quietly and trained your gaze on the table. A lone tear slipped from the corner of your eye and dropped onto the cloth. There would be no more pretending.
“What do you want me to say?” the hysterical note crept into your voice as you heard yourself spill confessions you never dared put into words, “I’m scared, Alfred. Always had been. Because there are feelings that I can’t get rid of no matter what I do” more tears rolled down your cheeks as the desperation you had tried stifling reared its head “I don’t want to hurt him, but…” you trailed off, your voice breaking under the weight of emotions.
But that was it. The truth was spoken for the first time and somehow more terrifying. You knew how it sounded. How utterly pathetic it was to be afraid of the thing many were willing to die for. But you could not help it.
“You’re also hurting yourself, though” Alfred’s gentle statement was enough to make you look up.
You fixed your red-rimmed eyes on his face, resisting the sudden urge to scoff. He was right, but that did not change anything. After twenty years of hurting, what was some more? An eternity? Easy. Much easier than whatever was going on right now.
“That’s inevitable” you could only shrug, staring at him blankly.
Because that’s just the thing. It’s inevitable. There is no outcome where you could have this and walk away unscathed. No such variant of the reality.
From the disbelief on Alfred’s face, you knew he disagreed.
“What if it doesn’t have to be like that?” you opened your mouth to protest, but he did not let you speak just yet, “What if you could have everything you wanted and be happy?” the conviction in his eyes was something you wished you could share.
But you couldn’t. It sounded like a fable, a tale too good to be true. It sounded like your childhood before.
“I don’t think that’s possible” you levelled him with a resigned look and brushed the drying tears from your cheeks.
Suddenly you wanted nothing more than to burrow underneath the covers and disappear from the world until the morning. Only Alfred had one more thing to say…
“I beg to differ” with his tone urging you to listen, you fell quiet as he continued, “I can’t tell you what to do or think, but… You make him happy” his gaze softened as your heart panged, barely able to sit idly for much longer, “And I know that’s mutual” though there was no need, you nodded weakly, confirming the correct assumption “Love is terrifying, but it’s also worth the pain” unable to withstand the vulnerable moment, you closed your eyes, hiding the pain he could find there; he hit the metaphorical bullseye “Don’t let the fear take it away from you” as Alfred finished the speech you let out a long exhale.
As if sensing you were barely holding on, he stood up from the table and left the dining room. But not without reaching out to squeeze your shoulder first. Only once you were alone did you let the tears flow freely.
You desperately wanted him to be right.
***
Only two days later, things came to a head with the most unexpected beginning. Although it was late, you were still busy with work, reading up on different witness accounts of the aftermath of the flooding. While you were still officially off work for another week, you wanted to make sure you had something to write about as soon as you could. And as much as you wanted to, Riddler’s case was off-limits. The decision was difficult to accept, but it was a no-brainer. You could not write about events that hit so close to home and expect it to be unbiased. And any good at all.
So, with a heavy heart, you began a quest to find something new. To your utmost surprise – Bruce offered to help. And help he did, sharing various stories he has heard during his patrols, dropping hints towards the whispers passed around in the dark. You were more grateful than you knew how to express.
Glancing at the clock in the upper corner of the laptop screen, you groaned at the late hour. Perhaps it was time to finish for the night… Perhaps you could- You never got to end the thought as sudden feedback sound rang out in the study. Its whine made you startle, head snapping up in rapt attention at whatever would follow. That was familiar. A memory from what felt like ages ago. It took you another moment to catch up and recognise the song. The subtle strumming was almost indistinguishable. And then…
You got up before you knew what you were doing. Like a siren call leading sailors to their demise, the increasing volume of the music dragged you down the stairs. Once you got closer, you could hear him sing. Quietly, as if he never wanted anyone to have heard him, but still. His low, gravelly voice was enough to increase the cadence of your heartbeat and make you pick up the pace.
‘You're just like an angel
Your skin makes me cry
You float like a feather
In a beautiful world’
You knew the lyrics well enough to feel the familiar tension fill your chest when you reached the study and held your breath upon the sight.
‘I wish I was special
You're so fuckin' special’
Bruce had his back to you, the broad plane of his shoulders covered with a washed-out black t-shirt. Body hunched over the guitar. Without seeing his face, you knew that his eyes were closed. As the volume grew, his strumming got angrier. Dexterous fingers hit each note as they were supposed to. The pain in his voice perfected the picture and made you tighten your grip on the railing. It was terrifying to think about the song choice and what it meant. Whether it meant anything at all.
The longer you stayed, frozen by the sight, the more you knew you should have never given in to the pull. Because now you could not walk away. Not without talking to Bruce. Even if only just about the music. The longing got almost unbearable.
The guitar’s tone slowed; the riff returned to its gentle opening. Bringing the number to a close. Bruce’s voice turned smooth, rolling over your torn heart like a soothing balm. But only just so. Before you realised it, a solitary tear had rolled down your cheek. You whispered the closing lyrics alongside him:
‘What the hell am I doin' here?
I don't belong here
I don't belong here’
Bruce finished the song with a long exhale. For a moment, you contemplated running back up the stairs like you had never been there. But you could not move. Your mouth opened on its own accord:
“You’ve got a beautiful voice” you winced as Bruce flinched, his body tensing as he turned to face you with a shock evident on his face; still, you trudged on and added, “But that was a rather gloomy choice, don’t you think?” an unconvincing smile graced your face.
Because you knew Bruce would see beneath the mask. He would notice the drying tear on your cheek and the pain in your eyes. That one look would be enough for him to tear you apart.
“It felt accurate” Bruce shrugged, his façade drawn up and ready to hide all hints of emotion.
But you could see him look at you, gaze searching and assessing. Noticing everything there was to see. Like he always did. Unable to withstand eye contact much longer, you let your gaze roam as well. Slipping over his forearms and hands, still carefully holding the instrument. As if he expected you to leave so he could continue. But it was not that easy.
“If you’re a creep, then I’m a weirdo” you gathered enough courage to look back up at him, finding Bruce still gazing back; it was enough of an encouragement to make you drop the nonchalance, a veiled confession ready on your tongue “Kindred freaks and all,”
For the first time since he looked at you, you saw Bruce’s mask slip. A flash of surprise passed through his blue eyes and, then, something more tender. The aching chasm in your chest grew wider as you stepped down from the landing and took a step closer to him. The movement woke him up. Bruce took off the guitar strap from around his neck and placed the instrument back on the stand. Silence echoed in the vast room.
“I didn’t think you’d hear me play” when he raised his head again, part of that wall hiding him from you was gone.
In its place, you could see wary curiosity. As if Bruce did not expect to see you tonight or have this conversation. As if you caught him by surprise. For some reason, the idea settled with heavy guilt in your stomach. Because maybe you were trespassing, bothering him with your presence when he would rather be alone. You swallowed past the sudden lump in your throat and whispered:
“I’m sorry” your body had half made up its mind to turn around on your hell and march up the stairs.
Like you should have done when he finished the song. A goodbye was ready on your lips before Bruce spoke, making you freeze:
“Did you mean it?” the cautious tone arrested your attention.
As did the fleeting hope in his eyes. Gone so fast you assumed you had imagined it. Your heart skipped a beat as you understood what Bruce was asking. There was only one thing it could be. As if eager to spite you, your mind readily offered the memory. A sentence blurted out in a moment of passion. Your undoing, as it seemed. Heat filled your cheeks as you felt yourself shake. Panic took over; its job was simple – you couldn’t admit it. Not yet. Ideally never. So, you did what you do best.
“Mean what?” a confused smile was ready on your lips, masking the descending terror with a weak attempt at deflection, “The line just now? I-”
You should have known better. Bruce interrupted your pathetic one-woman play with a simple injection:
“You know what I mean” frustration rolled off him in waves, making him clench his hands into tight fists as Bruce stared at you with growing desperation.
Urging you to drop the act. But it was too late. The cold panic had settled, freezing you on the hardwood floors. Freezing your mind on that one thought – you couldn’t tell him. He can’t know.
“Bruce, I’ve no-” you tried again, without the foreign smile and bullshit nonchalance.
In your head, a pleading chorus was rising in volume. Drop it. Please drop it. But Bruce did not want to listen. He took a step closer, briefly reaching out his hand before letting fall back down. As if he wanted to touch you but soon realised that would not do.
“Please, just- Don’t lie to me” his voice broke on the last word, pain squeezing your heart like a vice; it only got worse when Bruce added, “I don’t think I can do this anymore” he glanced at you almost passively.
Almost as if he had not just crushed your heart in the palm of his hand with that one sentence. Cold fear rose in your throat as you took a step forward, voice wavering as you asked the only question you could:
“Do what?” even though you knew.
You could feel it in your bones. Bruce was done with this. With you. You could even guess why. And if that was it, the end, then you could not blame him, only yourself. A new wave of tears rose in your eyes as you waited for Bruce to cut the cord and end your suffering.
“This,” he vaguely waved his hand at the space between you before turning to pace the room, restless energy permeating every cell of his body, “It hurts too much to pretend. And- I mean, it’s pretty obvious. You must know by now” what? The question painted itself in the crease between your eyebrows as Bruce glanced at you with passion in his gaze, begging you to understand, “It’s not like I’m good at hiding it anyway” the following scoff was self-directed, as if Bruce was angry with his actions, or lack of them, as well.
But none of that explained what he meant. The bewilderment was evident on your face. You could tell Bruce saw it because he let out a long frustrated sigh. He stopped pacing, eyes trained on the floor as if taking part in a heated debate you were no part of. You reminded yourself to breathe, still frozen in your spot with no pointers towards where it was going. What was going to happen next. You opened and closed your mouth in a question that never quite came and went back to staring helplessly at Bruce. Fully aware of the pained look in your eyes and the shaking in your hands.
Later, you could pinpoint the moment he snapped. When the silence became too much to bear, and Bruce rushed in to fill it with words. More words than you had ever heard him say, unprompted. He walked back towards you, eyes wide and awake despite the late hour. But nothing you could see in his face warned you of what was coming:
“I know I’m new to this whole thing, but… I think I’m in love with you” oh. Oh. The breath hitched in your chest. The sincerity of his confession was the reason why you swayed on your feet, only just managing to grasp the railing before you fell at his feet – literary and figuratively; before you could process what Bruce had said and what it meant, he trudged on, seemingly unable to stop now that he began talking “Hell, I know I am, because nothing has ever torn me apart and put me back together all at once. No one else, but you” remembering to breathe, Bruce took a greedy inhale as his eyes met yours; the blue of his irises was set ablaze with that emotion you could never quite decipher. Until now, “I’m tired of pretending this is fine when it’s anything but. Nights like that last one are the worst because, for a moment, I get to feel what we could have, but then you- You leave, and it hurts twice as much because I know what I’m missing. What I’ll probably never have unless it’s with you” tears rolled down your cheeks as you stared, feeling the fear and love wage war in your heart. It was almost impossible to understand what was going on. And why the pain in his eyes only seemed to grow with each confession, the words dropping heavily onto the space between you, staining the floorboards with blood and despair. Yet still, Bruce’s next words slashed your heart anew, “And sometimes, I think… I think that maybe you’re the same” he looked at you again, the unasked question evident on his face.
A question you could not answer. The fear had won, claiming reign over your head and heart as you stared back. Still too frozen to move. Still unable to understand what had just happened. Bruce loved you. He was in love with you. He reciprocated, even though he did not know it. Fuck. All at once, you wanted to howl - be it from joy or pain, you could not decide. What now?
Your thoughts rushed a hundred miles per hour, spiralling and panicking. Worrying about every single what-if you could think of. All your mouth could form was a plea:
“Bruce, please- Don’t-” you did not even know what you were begging for.
Mercy, mostly. But with every second passing, you began to understand there was no way out of this. For better or for worse.
As if reading your feverish thoughts, Bruce closed the gap between you and reached out a careful hand, letting his fingers skim down the length of your forearm. Immediately, he had drawn attention to the chill you could feel settling in your bones as goosebumps followed his tentative touch. The sole-minded focus was still in his eyes:
“I swear I’ll leave you alone, detach myself from whatever is going on between us, if you’ll tell me I’m wrong” softening his voice a notch, Bruce searched your face, looking for the answers himself, “Tell me you don’t think of me like that and I’ll let it go. I promise” his hand clasped around yours, squeezing your palm as a reassurance that he meant it “Just tell me- Tell me you don’t love me” there, simple.
Or not so simple at all. A shudder went through your body as Bruce repeated the cursed word. Now it was entirely in your hands. The weight was resting on your shoulders, waiting for you to choose. For a second, you considered taking the way out that was still there. Faint and going against every promise you had made to yourself, but it still existed. You could deny everything, tell him he had it all wrong, lie and flee the scene with only the price of Bruce’s wounded heart on your conscience. But you couldn’t. Could not make yourself consider it beyond the basic set of assumptions and potentials.
Instead, you could only offer him an incomprehensible stutter, a collection of sounds paired with the colour draining from your face:
“I can’t- I-” the desire to run was still there, growing stronger with each second Bruce had spent staring at you.
He must have read it in your eyes for the moment you turned on your heel, body poised to run up the stairs, his arms were around you in a second. Caging you with your back pressed to his chest. Your shocked gasp was the only sound you could make.
“Don’t run away from me now,” Bruce’s plea was whispered right into your ear, making you shiver, “Please” only once you had the time to breathe, you noticed how lose his hold was; it would not take much to free yourself, should you want to “I’ve got you” the reassurance got through the white noise in your ears, making you relax.
Even if just by a fraction. You could feel the rise and fall of his breath at your back, the wisps of air across the back of your neck and cheek. One of his hands traced small circles on your arm, slowing your heart rate to a manageable pace. That was it. You couldn’t run from it anymore. You took a deep breath before you spoke:
“I’m so scared,” the admission was easy enough to utter.
A fragment of truth you owed Bruce. The reason for everything, as he would come to understand very soon. His embrace tightened slightly as he pressed a fleeting kiss to the crown of your head. It was almost enough to quieten the panic.
“I know, my love. Trust me. I know” the gratitude at his understanding was quickly overshadowed by the nickname he used.
The heart stuttered in your chest, unable to process it. My love. Two words that had never been aimed at you; have never related to you. A term of endearment you had come to envy in the quiet of your heart, yearning for something you never expected to have. But here it was, within your reach. If only you were brave enough to take it.
You closed your eyes, willing the courage to fill your veins as you pressed your back to Bruce’s chest. He wouldn’t hurt you. The statement filled your head like a mantra as you slowly forced more words out:
“You see me. The real me and it’s scary because what if you come to hate me? I don’t think I could survive that” it all came out in a rush of breath, leaving you gasping.
But it was out there. The truth for Bruce to hear and take in. The bravery was draining the energy from your body as you waited for a reply, a comment – anything at all. Anything to show you he understood.
He did not disappoint, offering you another gentle squeeze before speaking:
“I could never hate you” the certainty in Bruce’s voice was what you later considered as the thing that tipped the scales.
Because, for once, you pushed against the denial and believed him. After all, Bruce was the one with more to lose. The first to reach out. To come clean before you. Goddamn it, if he was brave enough, maybe you could be too… Maybe.
Cold shivers ran through your body as you tried to give voice to the words that had been choking you for days. If not weeks. You never thought to keep track and were too busy keeping them in. Despite everything. Perhaps there was no better time than now.
You squeezed Bruce’s hand to assure him you were not running away and turned in the embrace. It was better that way. Proper. You met his boundless gaze, now filled only with hope and the feeling you had recognised as the love he spoke of. It was enough. With a shaking voice, you released the confession from the prison you had made for it:
“Christ, I- I- I love you” the words came out wavered, and your breath stuttered with each syllable, but the light in his eyes was a reason to go on, “So fucking much it kills me” now that you started, the admissions did not seem to stop, slipping through your lips in a steady stream, slowly gaining speed “I’ve no idea when it happened, only that now you’re all I can think about. Every day, I go crazy because of you. Because I want you so much, I don’t know what to do with all those feelings. Sometimes it feels as though they’re going to tear my heart apart” running out of steam, you swallowed hard against the sudden dryness in your throat; it felt like a fraction of the weight had been lifted, now drowning in the blue gaze that did not stray away from your face. There was one last thing to add, a conclusion stating the obvious “But I’m still afraid,” the cursed punchline you did not seem able to shake off.
Only now, once the words were out, you allowed yourself to look back at Bruce. His shy smile acted like a magnet, drawing out your helpless twist of mouth. Your eyes followed the line of his nose (slightly crooked to the right) up to his eyes. Instantly drowning within the depths of blue irises filled with affection. Almost as if what you revealed did not change anything for him. As if, somehow, it would be alright. He would try rather than run away from you and your complex feelings no one seemed to fully comprehend. Not even you yourself. Too lost in his eyes, you only noticed he had reached up to touch you when you felt the gentle thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek. Caressing your skin and quelling the worries.
“Of what?” Bruce’s simple question acted like the needed push in the right direction.
A reason to put into words and label what you never dwelled on. But now, you had no choice but to piece it apart. Even if only because Bruce deserved it from you. He earned an attempt at trying from you. Because, when faced with the reality that he felt the same, you knew you could not deny it anymore. It was terrifying. And oh, so hopeful. You let the feelings in his eyes anchor you in the moment as you spoke:
“That you’re going to leave. Or something takes you away from me” you could see the recognition pass through his face, making the addition nearly redundant “I don’t have a great track record with love” still, the sad scoff could not be kept in.
There was something freeing in seeing the knowing look on Bruce’s face. In knowing that he understood the feeling, perhaps better than anyone else ever could. That, no matter what happened next, you were placing your heart in the palm of someone who gets it. That you had fallen for that same boy you felt a kinship with days after your childhood ended. It was almost poetic.
“I don’t plan on leaving” when Bruce gave voice to the affirmation, you wanted to believe him.
Because he said it before. Every time you let your insecurities win. You clenched your teeth against the denial bubbling beneath the surface and asked a question:
“Why?” hoping he would know what you meant.
It was the only way you knew of asking him why you were the one to make him care. Why you? Bruce only smiled in response, leaning in to kiss your forehead before effortlessly meeting your gaze and baring his heart. Again.
“Because you’re incredible, beautiful, smart, and you see me. You see Bruce Wayne where everybody else sees a symbol, an idea of who I am” the sincerity of his words made your heart seem too big for your chest, each beat threatening to be the one that would make it implode, “Only you see me as I am” as did the gratitude and love in his gaze.
Showing you that the feeling was mutual. You saw Bruce just as he saw you. Like no one else did. The discovery was enough to make you sure – it was worth it.
Aware of the likely sparks in your eyes and the foolishly lovesick look on your face, you cleared your throat and whispered a question:
“Can I kiss you?” you did not know why it felt necessary to ask when you never did before.
When it was probably a given, considering everything he just said. The only thing you were sure of was that you had to let him know. Had to show how much it meant to hear him say it.
Bruce’s fond smile was an answer enough, but he still brushed away your concerns.
“You don’t have to ask” leaning in, he nudged your nose with his and waited for your decisive move.
After all, it was you who had asked. Getting onto your tiptoes, you returned the playful nudge and placed your hands on his shoulders. From then on, everything was a reflex and acting on well-practised instincts. Your eyes closed as you leaned in, slotting your lips over his in a tender kiss. Bruce responded immediately, tightening his hold over your waist and opening his mouth underneath your tentative tongue. The kiss quickly turned heated, drawing out a muffled gasp from your throat and a half-stifled whine from his. Your fingers tangled in the hair on the nape of his neck as you gently sank your teeth into his bottom lip. Enough so to make Bruce groan and pull you closer.
That long-buried, sentimental part of your brain could tell this kiss tasted different. More carefree, unrestrained. Nothing stopped you from tracing the confessions on his skin as your tongue whispered words only Bruce could hear. You did not think anyone ever kissed you quite like that. Like it was the only thing he wanted to do until the end of time. Like the time spent caressing your lips and body was his holy ritual and never a waste of time. Like it mattered enough to be something Bruce devoted his attention to. Until you broke the contact to catch a breath, you were only his, and he was yours. Then, as your eyes met again, wearing matching infatuated looks, the kiss became a promise of more to come. You noted his blushing cheeks and offered a remark:
“I like what you called me, by the way” from the way Bruce’s eyes lit up instantly, you knew it was no slip of the tongue.
Even more so, it was a reason for your heart to beat faster. He meant it.
“My love?” his gaze traced the movement of your tongue, licking your drying lips.
And collecting the remains of the taste of his kiss. A pleasant shiver ran through your body as Bruce repeated the endearment. You could get used to it.
“Yeah, that’s new” you nodded, not even trying to school your features and erase the hope blooming there.
Bruce smiled, drawing out a gasp from your lips as his fingers crept beneath your shirt, lightly touching the skin on your waist. It almost distracted you from his next words.
“It can stay if you want,” without needing Bruce to elaborate, you knew what it meant; the feeling only grew stronger as he added, “If you’ll stay,” a meaningful pause signing off the conditional.
If. You still had a choice. At least, Bruce seemed to think so. What he did not know was that you had already decided. Or that your heart has chosen for you. There was no alternative there. But the slightest bit of uncertainty in his eyes told you he needed an answer:
“I’ll try to” the honest reply was a perfect opening for another question, one that you had been holding back for a while, “Are you mine?”
It was the final assurance you needed from Bruce if only to convince your head it was safe to give him your heart, body, and soul. For as long as he was willing to have them. For as long as he would have you.
Bruce used his unoccupied hand to squeeze your palm as he lowered his head to catch your eye. You had no doubt he caught the nerves lurking there; impossible to be exiled entirely. Unknowingly, you held your breath, waiting for his answer as if the world depended on it.
“If you’re mine,” Bruce’s reply was simple, bringing out your chuckle at the banter you had fallen into.
The joy was reciprocated, too, if the creases at the corners of his eyes were anything to go by. Not for the first time since you had met, you had been struck by a thought, a recognition that he was beautiful. The sharp features and striking eyes always pulled you in and made it impossible to look away. To stray your eyes from his. To find anyone else worth looking at. At this moment, in the dark gothic study, lit up only by the fireplace and the lamp, you knew it was always a lost cause. You had lost a long time ago.
Instead of replying, you kissed him quickly, relishing in the sharp gasp you got in return. When you parted, an answer was easy to conjure:
“I’m pretty sure you’re the only one willing to put up with this” upon Bruce’s questioning look, you motioned at the meagre space between you, highlighting the truth he might have missed.
That there was no competition there. Only Bruce was willing to endure you for this long and in this way. He was the only one wanting your love and loving you back. You were not quite ready to piece apart why (or how) that could be.
“I’ve always been told I’m relentless” the cheeky uptick of Bruce’s mouth was a hypnotizing sight.
You did not miss the telling glimmer in his eye or the smooth move which resulted in your body being pulled closer to his. Almost flush against his chest. It was impossible to deny your brain’s desire to offer you a recap of every moment you had shared which had begun in that way. And to stifle the shiver and the knowledge that, if the universe were gracious, you would have many more coming. The reminder was enough to make you smile and return the playful smirk:
“Good for me” struck with sudden weariness and feeling the rapidly dropping adrenaline, you tugged Bruce’s hand and wordlessly led him towards the sofa; only once you had fallen onto the cushions with a sigh and curled up next to him, you asked the question “What happens now?”
You knew Bruce would get what you meant. He always did.
You felt him shift, one arm coming up to rest around your shoulders, drawing you closer. The other hand was placed on your knee, providing gentle warmth and helping you stay present with him. It was almost too easy to let go and fall back on his constant support to keep you grounded. The doubts were still there, rising and falling like the natural ebb and flow of the tide, lapping at the edges of your conscience. You suspected they would probably always be there, somewhere. Ready to take over at the tiniest chance of something going wrong. The best you could do was hope that would never happen.
As if sensing your mental chatter getting louder, Bruce leaned in to leave a trail of kisses on the shell of your ear and nuzzled your temple. The resulting sigh was effortless on your part. As always.
“We try not to fuck it up” he had his answer ready, eyes trained on you and waiting for whatever might come up.
You had to admit it sounded simple. Almost doable. But…
“And if we do?” you turned to catch his eyes with what you knew to be a wild gaze.
You needed Bruce to say it. To promise he would fight for whatever you were to become. It had to work. Please. You already knew you would be willing to sacrifice a lot for this fragile thing between you. It was already a fact.
A fact Bruce could undoubtedly see in your gaze, for the confidence bled into his voice as he replied:
“Then we’ll try harder” he grabbed your hand, which restlessly picked at the loose thread on the hem of your shirt and squeezed it.
On a reflex, you threaded your fingers through his and pressed your palms together. You had no choice but to trust him. To do the unimaginable and place your heart in his hands, surrendering control in the process. You swallowed past the fear in your throat and pressed your mouth to the corner of his lips. It felt like an apt conclusion to the conversation long overdue.
A little later, once another kiss had ended, and a new one had not yet begun, you raised your head from its comfortable placement on Bruce’s shoulder and fixed your gaze on the black and white guitar resting on its stand. An in-direct reason you had the conversation in the first place. You briefly contemplated sending a thank-you letter to the manufacturer but were struck with a better idea.
“Bruce?” taking pleasure in how his name rolled off your tongue, you marvelled at the rare peacefulness of the moment.
There was nowhere else to be, nothing else to do. Nothing, but feeling the low rumble of his voice as Bruce hummed.
“Mm?” he kept tracing letters onto the skin of your arm, leaving you to guess their meaning on your own.
Sometimes you were willing to bet he was repeating the confessions he just spoke of. The thought drew an involuntary smile onto your face.
“Play me something” you met his gaze with that same affectionate look in your eyes.
There was no need to specify the request - you knew Bruce would choose well. He only grinned at you in response and disentangled from your embrace to stand up and pick up the instrument. You watched his forearms flex, tendons dancing beneath the pale skin as Bruce placed the strap around his neck and bowed over the guitar. His eyes closed in concentration, but he was not tense. It was a far cry from how you found him over an hour before.
With a breath trapped in your chest, you awaited the first notes. When he began the rhythmic strumming, a fond chuckle escaped your lips. You had to admit Bruce was nothing, if not predictable. Humming the chorus alongside him, you met his questioning gaze. You smiled, mouthing the words that were no longer forbidden. Love you. Sweetheart.
“Something in the way, huh?” the laugh spilling through the gaps between the vowels.
“What? You did not specify” teasing edge you would have never even imagined becoming so accustomed to.
“I knew I didn’t have to,” and then, just to see him roll his eyes with that enamoured exasperation “Babe,”
#the batman#the batman 2022#the batman x reader#the batman x y/n#the batman x you#robert pattinson#robert pattinson x reader#robert pattinson x y/n#robert pattinson!batman x reader#robert pattinson!bruce wayne x reader#battinson#battinson x you#battinson x reader#battinson fic#battinson x female reader#bruce wayne#bruce wayne x fem!reader#bruce wayne x y/n#bruce wayne x you#bruce wayne x reader#batman x reader#batman x you#batman x fem!reader#batman x y/n#waiting for the night
108 notes
·
View notes
Text
nevermore…
chapter 2: research
pairing: xavier thorpe x fem!reader
summary: you uncover things about yourself and where you got your powers from.
warnings: a bit of fluff, talking about/another panic attack kinda thing, xavier is a simp as usual, i think that’s it?
a/n: i’m so sorry, some of the tags for the list aren’t working! i’m also sorry that it took so long to get this out! i just want to make sure everything is as good as i want it to be. it’s not proofread very well, but i was able to skim it. anyway, if you want to be added to the taglist feel free to message me or comment on this post :)
chapter 1 here
your dad died when you were young. three, to be exact. at the ripe age of 31 your father took his own life. perhaps that’s what made your mother so temperamental, losing your father.
because you were so young when he passed, you never really learned to miss him. how do you miss someone you don’t remember? your mom boxed away all photos of him and doesn’t mention him very often at all. perhaps that was so you wouldn’t ask any questions, or maybe it was because she was angry with him leaving.
sometimes you wonder what he looked like, if you looked like him. maybe he would have loved you. but, if he loved you then why did he leave? he wouldn’t have.
to be honest, there was always the option of googling his name to see what would pop up. maybe he was some tortured genius. maybe he was an artist or at least someone who loved his child.
maybe you preferred the mystery.
you were used to being alone and not having someone. you weren’t used to someone trying to make you comfortable. you weren’t used to someone making you a priority. you weren’t used to someone being around. being there.
maybe the feeling was growing on you.
“how was your first day?” yoko asked as she seemed to be making her bed for the night. “sorry we didn’t get to spend much time together, i guess our schedules just don’t match up.”
“oh that’s alright,” you assured her as you finished unpacking your half of the room. “it was… good? i kept running into that xavier guy.”
“ahh,” she chuckled as she plopped down on her bed.
“what’s ‘ahh’ for?” you stopped hanging up your clothes to face her. “what’s that mean?”
“just means ‘ahh’,” she continued to laugh at your reaction. after hearing you sigh, she continued, “xavier thorpe doesn’t normally engage with people. ‘loner’ type, remember?”
“i remember,” you nodded, picking up another shirt and putting it on your hanger. “so… so when he insists on being my dance partner, what does that mean?”
she laughed heartily this time, “that means he probably has the hots for you.”
you remained quiet. it didn’t make much sense for him to want to get to know you even in the slightest. you didn’t know him and there was no doubt in your mind that there was nothing special enough about you to draw someone as hot of a commodity as xavier to want to be near you. of all people, it was you.
“yea, whatever,” you laughed with her, hoping she was merely joking about his possible interest in you. “i’m sure he has a few girls lining up at his door, being the tortured artist of nevermore and everything.”
“he used to date bianca, the ‘it’ girl,” she got comfortable in bed, shuffling underneath her blankets and pillows. “not anymore. other than that there really isn’t anyone that any of us know about.”
“what happened between them?” you asked as you finally closed your closet, getting your own bed ready for you to go to sleep.
she took a deep breath, “well, she’s a siren. and rumor has it that he couldn’t trust that his feelings for her were real. again, simply a rumor,” she shrugged as she began to hug one of her pillows.
“hmm,” you shut off the light and got in bed.
maybe tomorrow you would learn more about his need to know you. maybe you would somehow understand it. but, this wasn’t the point of coming to nevermore.
you couldn’t get off track so early. you needed to make your mom proud. you needed to go back home and live your life normally like you had before this entire mess. so you can leave magic and powers and abilities behind you.
“goodnight, yoko,” you said only loud enough to ensure she could hear you.
“goodnight, y/n.”
-
the next morning you woke up feeling more rested than you expected. you were anticipating a sore body and tired eyes but you were only welcome with the dim light from outside peaking through your window.
“it’s saturday,” yoko informed you. “a few of us are going into jericho to get some fresh, not-nevermore-flavored air. i think you should come with us!”
“when are you guys leaving?” you rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you sat up in bed, clad in only your little nightgown.
“about an hour?” yoko had finished brushing out her hair before plopping down at her desk.
you stepped out of bed to stretch before you heard a knock at the door. yoko got up to answer it, you could only see her smile from the door covering whoever this person was.
“is she coming?” you heard the familiar voice ask in a rushed, trying to be hushed, manner. “is she even awake yet?”
“oh, she’s awake,” she stepped out of the way to let none other than xavier walk inside of your room.
you stood there, now crossing your arms as he simply smiled at you from the door. “good morning,” he seemed extremely happy.
“mhmm,” you went into your closet to grab some clothes and shut it, walking into the bathroom to change.
you heard their muffled talking from inside the bathroom.
“dude,” yoko’s voice rang out. “what the hell?” she was chuckling, her voice very lighthearted.
“what?” his voice rose an octave as he responded. “maybe i just wanna spend more time with her?”
“but why?”
“because���” you heard pacing.
“what about her is so intriguing to you?” she chuckled once more, this time humorlessly.
“you do know there are some things you don’t need to know, yoko,” his voice seemed cocky, joking in a manner.
once you came out, now fully clothed, xavier was now sitting on yoko’s bed as she continued to write, you didn't know what, on her desk. this would be your first outing in the town, and you were only hoping for it to not go terribly. avoiding all gazes and stares would be the goal of this little excursion, and you could only pray it would go as planned.
it wasn’t even a half hour later when you and a bunch of other students were boarding a shuttle bus to jericho. the drive was shorter than you expected, which made you feel better about the school’s surroundings. you were terrified of feeling as though you were isolated from the entirety of the outside world.
“your first outing in jericho has to be perfect,” xavier insisted as he began to walk with you down the rather ordinary street. perhaps you expected something more… nevermore-y. “Which is why i think we should go to weathervane first, my treat, of course. they have pretty decent coffee there."
"oh, coffee," you groaned with excitement as you continued down the small streets. "where's everyone else going?" you pointed behind you where everyone else began walking.
he looked behind him as they began their tread towards the library, "ahh, doing some research at the library i guess."
"i should probably be doing some of that too, research," you clarified. since you were coming into the school already late, you had some work you had to catch up on. you had plants to research, potions to memorize and reading to do. "i'm a bit behind."
"i can help with that," he smiled as you turned to face him, a grin that didn't take up his face but merely told you he would enjoy the time. "i'm kinda top of the class, aside from bianca, of course.”
"hmm," you nodded. you were top if your class back in the normal high school, but things were clearly run differently around here. “i might need that help if i’m being honest.”
his eyes continued to look back at his friends who entered the library. you weren’t sure why he was so interested in the fact that they needed to do whatever research interested them, but he was. perhaps you should’ve been a bit more interested in his interest in their interests.
regardless, the coffee at the weathervane was delicious. xavier ordered what you had ordered, which was a simple vanilla macchiato, and claimed to like it as well. back home, you had truly enjoyed coffee of all sorts. you even had an espresso machine that you treated as careful as you would a child.
“do you know if there’s anyone that could help me?” you spoke bravely as he walked with you to the antique store. “like with the mind stuff?”
“telekinesis?” he offered the proper word for it.
“and i think telepathy too,” you added before glancing up at the tall man. “i can sometimes read minds. it’s just that i have no control over any of it. it scares my m-people. it scares people.”
he looked back down as your eyes began tracing the sidewalk, “my roommate has telekinesis. i can see if he knows much about it if you’d like?”
“has he always had it?” you were dying to know more. you mostly just wanted to know why your powers only started now, rather than when you were born. “his powers? mine started a few months ago for no reason and… i need some answers.”
“i think he was born with it,” he shrugged apologetically. “if you need help learning to control it, i might be able to help. my art, i can make it come to life. it took me a while to be able to control it, and sometimes it still gets out of hand, but i can definitely try to help.”
“why would you do that?” you stopped walking and tugged on his jacket, forcing him to stay with you. “why are you so adamant on-on helping me? you don’t even know me.”
“i could know-or i could get to know you,” his brows rose as if he was trying to convince you. “you could call it a hunch.”
“is that why it was so easy for you to help me the other day?” you knew your eyes held desperation for his answer. they were pleading. your mom always told you that your eyes held all of your emotion. “because you have good instincts?”
“yea,” he nodded as he let his eyes dart all over your face. “maybe that’s why.”
with a nod and a sigh, you grasped onto the fabric of his jacket to lead him back down the sidewalk, as if you knew where you were going. he grasped your hand to lead you to the inside of the sidewalk before continuing the walk to uriah’s heap.
“y’know,” he began as you searched the odd store. “you’ve barely decorated your room. how about we go to one of the good thrift stores here and revamp your room, pun intended.”
“revamp, haha,” you smiled as you looked at stuffed roadkill on a shelf. “i don’t have the money. i didn’t really expect to come here so soon and my mom hasn’t been able to-“
“i’ll pay,” he insisted as he gently grasped your shoulder. “i want to. my dad gives me this allowance type thing. i think it’s to subside his own guilt for never talking to me, but you might as well benefit from it.”
“i can’t,” you refused as you walked away and down a different isle.
“it’s really not a big deal!” he insisted with a smile as he followed you down the rows. “i have it but i don’t want it. please let me help you? i want this place to feel more comfortable for you.”
“i don’t want to get comfortable,” you rephrased as you slammed a trinket back down on its shelf. this place isn’t supposed to be home for you. you don’t need to ‘get comfortable’ because you should be leaving as soon as you can. as soon as it’s safe for you to be in public. “and i don’t want to be some charity case for you.”
“that’s not-“
“i want to leave now,” you promptly walked out of the shop and took a deep breath of the fresh air.
“hey,” his hand pressed gently against your back. “i didn’t mean to upset you. i just want you to know that we all want you here. i want you here. i want to help you.”
“i don’t want to be your charity case,” you argued back as you took another step forward so he would remove his hand.
“you aren’t, you aren’t,” he assured you as he rose his hands.
you felt your breath picking up, your heart began to rapidly beat. “xavier, it’s…” you breathed out. “it’s gonna happen. my head, it’s-“
“okay, remember what i said,” he took this moment to hold onto your hands. “breathe and focus on something, anything.”
“can i-look at me?” you breathed out. “or you look at me. i need to…” his hands went to your face now, cupping it gently. you held onto his arms.
“let’s get somewhere more private, yea?” you nodded as you looked into his eyes once more. he guided you to an alley right around the corner. “in, two, three, four…” he guided your breathing.
“i’m,” you sighed as your grasp on his arms tightened. “i’m okay. my head just… it hurts now.”
“let’s go, yea?” he nodded with you as he wrapped an arm around your waist. you rested your head on his shoulder as he led you to a shuttle bus.
“this is the second time i’ve nearly had a breakdown around you,” you sighed as he helped you off the shuttle. “that has got to be a record or something.”
“what do you say we try to work on controlling those powers if yours?” he paused before looking down at you with a smile.
“i um,” you paused while thinking. “i found an old shed that weems is letting me fix up. maybe we could practice there? i mean, we would need to fix it up a bit more as we go, but-“
“that sounds great,” he agreed as he let you lead the way. “so we have to fix it up, huh?”
“well, yea,” you said as if it were obvious. “i might even let you use it as an art studio, as long as i can still go there whenever i please,” you said smugly as you dragged on his coat sleeve once more. “i already have some pretty cool plans for the place! i mean i haven’t written anything down yet, but it’s all up here,” you used your free hand and tapped your temple.
“well, tell me what to do, and i’ll do it,” he didn’t even know what he was getting himself into.
“ahh, the perfect guy,” you sighed as you led him through the woods to the shed you had already cleared out.
once you opened the shed, a breath of relief flew through you. you sat on the concrete floor and insisted he sit beside you by patting the ground. he took your queue with a smirk, his long legs crossing underneath one another into a cross-cross applesauce position.
“lots of potential,” he nodded as he watched your face glow with creativity.
“i know,” you smiled for once. “i can’t wait to get to the good stuff in here. it’s gonna be great! i was thinking about stringing some lights along the trims up top,” your hands motioned to what you were talking about. “and maybe even mrs. thornhill would let us borrow some non-carnivorous plants to help decorate! and then some nice vines trailing along with the lights…” now both of your hands were motioning towards the ceiling. “and your art could decorate the whole place! and then a few chairs, or maybe even beanbags for the aesthetic, with a nice, antique table for your art supplies and then a few easels for your art! it’ll be wonderful.”
“have you done this before?” he chuckled at how eager you were. “you seem so excited about it all. it’s cute.”
“i used to help my mom restore things,” you nodded before simply picking at your own nails. “my grandmother used to do that with her, and her mom with her… you get the point.”
“that’s nice,” he grabbed one of your hands to stop your picking. “so you and your mom are close?”
“we… we were,” you let your fingers intertwine with his in a moment of weakness. “she’s a bit indifferent about my new abilities. i dunno why… but i never really knew my dad. he died when i was young. so it’s always just been me and her. now, it’s just me, i guess.”
“i’m sorry,” both his hands cradled your own. “i’m honored that you’re letting me help, though,” he was interrupted by his phone ringing. “i’ll be right back.”
he stepped outside for a few minutes to take the call. you simply waited for him with your head thrown back against the walls of the shed. you hadn’t told anyone about your dad. your mom barely even talked about him. you never knew why.
“sorry, that was yoko,” he entered the shed once more. “they’re all on there way back, and they have some information for you, about telekinesis.”
“is that what they were doing at the library?” he nodded. “what’d they find out?”
“i dunno yet, mystery,” he smiled. “but we’re about to find out,” he grasped your hand and helped you off the floor.
once leading you through the school and to a statue of edgar allen poe, he simply snapped twice. the statue moved to the side, revealing a spiral staircase leading to some sort of secret library. his hand remained in yours the entire way.
“hey!” yoko greeted with an eager wave. “so, we went searching for some things for you… regarding telekinesis. of course, we had to go to the library in jericho but that’s only because they have this secret-anyway we found some information!”
“okay,” you nodded as you got to the bottom of the staircase. “what is it?”
“well,” yoko began to explain. “there has only been one other person who became telekinetic throughout their life. turns out, it happens when the life around you most needs it.”
“who was this only other person?” you wondered out loud.
“his name was john y/l/n,” kent, a siren, informed you.
your face went blank. it can’t be. there’s no fucking way that your father had these powers. why was your mother so frightened of you if your father had the same gifts?
“that’s my…” you felt tears in your eyes.
“what is it?” xavier’s hand held onto your shoulder worriedly. “what’s wrong.”
“that’s my dad.”
taglist:
@honey-with-tea @let-love-bleeds-red @katiemrty @im-done-with-this-im-out @princess-depresso @thequietreader90 @dakotali @xlittlemissydjx @l4venderia @whiteboycarlgallagher @darknessgirlgachalifeoficieel @krispybearbouquet @lilipop1226 @czeniess @gardensofivy @iloveurgf @lwesodra @pauphs @nctma15 @evernycto @lydeebugz @erens1andonly @juno-1610 @yourfavoritefangirl @panicattheeverywherekid @cmac-writes @wilddxchildd @arunaposeidondottir @sp1ng @pygmy-huff @bisexual-and-intellectual
#xavier thorpe thoughts#xavier thorpe series#xavier thorpe#xavier thorpe hurt/comfort#xavier thorpe fanfiction#xavier thorpe fic#xavier thorpe imagine#xavier thorpe smut#xavier thorpe fluff#xavier thorpe x reader#xavier thorpe wednesday#wednesday tv show#wednesday thoughts#wednesday fanfiction#wednesday fic
209 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dead on Your Feet Chapter 13
Finally a little progress for this story!
Okay so I know it's only 1,200 words but this is the first I've written in months and it makes me happy that I got something out! I can't tell you how much I've been hating everything of mine for the better part of a year. All my confidence was gone because I just compared myself to all the other brilliant writers on here and wondered what the hell was the point. I can't say I completely recovered from that spiral but I'm trying and while I'll never say I'm in the leagues of the other big names in this fandom, I do try and that's all I can ask for.
Here's hoping I can keep the momentum and finish this story before next year.
Ignoring the perfectly good wheelchair that was waiting for them on the carrier’s deck seemed like an excellent idea when Maverick first shouldered all of Bradley’s weight to guide him to medical, but half way to their destination, Pete is seriously kicking himself for once again refusing to do things the easy way. He’s tired, wet, and feeling his age with every laborious step. The physical demands of the task pales in comparison to the emotions; these past few weeks, hell these past few hours, putting him through more than he ever thought possible.
But Pete Mitchell is also stubborn as a mule when he wants to be so the older man just grits his teeth and tugs Rooster along a little quicker.
The pilot in his arms is staggering as well though, whimpers increasing with each added step as they traverse the narrow corridors of the ship. Navy personnel flank them from doorways and stairwells, watching in silence as they pass, some with looks of pride, others just plain shocked. Usually there is a sort of tribalism on a ship that goes well beyond rank; sailors turn their noses on pilots, pilots strut around like cocky little shits, and everyone stays with their own, but that's not the case today- today everyone is on the same team.
His team has done the impossible and the rest of the ship is giving them their due.
It reminds Maverick of a different mission many years ago, one with a far happier ending.
Medical, (besides being farther than Pete remembers as he lugs Bradley along), is in various stages of its own chaos by the time the two men get inside. There is a large commotion on one side of the wing, a scramble to get Seresin stabilized drawing all staff's attention by the yells for blood, plasma, and assistance. Bodies moving give peeks to the pandemonium in front of them and like a train wreck, Maverick finds he can’t look away. A nurse shifts and there is Jake’s arm, listing helplessly off the gurney, what looks like bite marks marring the skin. A doctor turns and darkened blonde hair is sticking out in dishevelment from one side of the bed, something the Captain knows by now would infuriate the vain pilot lying there. He spots Sosa, still taking charge and ordering the others about, his hand gesturing to the bloodied bag of fluids still draining from Hangman’s chest. Vitals loaded up to the monitors start screeching and the whirlwind of motion crescendos, barks of orders vacuuming the air in the room.
Pete’s body reacts faster than even he is prepared for and he tries to manhandle his godson away from what is about to happen, except Rooster’s good leg has become an anchor, planted firmly to the ground and stopping them from moving any further as the Lieutenant stares wide-eyed at the frenzy.
“Bradley” Maverick urges, having enough sense to know that they shouldn’t watch, that they can’t. Memories of the helicopter will forever haunt the older man, he doesn’t need to wait and see another traumatizing medical procedure happen in real time. “Let's get you settled-"
"I need to stay with him, I promised."
"Hangman's in the best hands" Pete explains, "the very best. There's nothing more you can do for him now, besides get yourself looked over so you can be there for him after. That's what Jake will need."
It's bullshit really. What Jake needs is even more blood and an operating table from what Maverick can make out in the incessant calls from the doctors and nurses, but that isn't going to get Bradley to sit on a hospital bed and Maverick's arms can only hold him up for so much longer so he makes do.
He shuffles them to the furthest cot away and then yanks the curtain across as though the thin fabric will protect them from the horrific sounds across the room, a proverbial shelter from the shit storm that is Jake Seresin being given paddles to resuscitate him for the second time.
Maverick holds back the urge to puke as the memories of the helicopter ride come back again and instead works to manhandle his godson to lie back on the bed. Bradley is still resisting though, somehow continuing to torture himself by fighting to get back to his wingman and watch his possible demise. That is until a particularly ominous sounding thud rings out, and the bedlam ceases. In that silence, Rooster seems to stop too, giving his captain the chance to move him towards the bed and all put pushing him down onto it.
Bradley lands on his butt on the mattress and stays planted, a blessing for Maverick who’s own body sags in relief when he moves to take one of the chairs at the bed’s side. Activity has started up again behind their wall of curtain, not quite as loud or insistent as before and Pete surmises that the odds are 50/50 on whether this is a good or bad thing.
Bradley however seems to have taken the pessimistic side. “Is this what it was like” he begins, eyes unfocused and staring at the tile floor in front of him, voice detached in a way that make’s Pete’s still half frozen body feel even colder, “when you held my dad that day? Knowing he was dead and still holding on? Having them wretch him from your grip to now wait for them to come in and tell you it was all for nothing?”
Maverick shudders at the brutal question lobbed his way, the vivid recollections thrown with it. He thinks of the bathroom mirror after they finally forced him out of medical after declaring Goose dead but Pete fine, of a feeling of loathing he still hasn’t completely shaken 30+ years later. If his lifetime of service to his country and fellow man earned him any sort of favor, Pete can only pray that he can use it to prevent Bradley from having to go through what he did. It’s a guilt that will haunt forever. “Hangman isn’t-“ he bites his bottom lip, and forces himself to look at Rooster, even if the other man is still looking away, “Hangman isn’t dead” he manages back weakly, not able to convince himself so he knows he isn't convincing Bradley. Every time he closes his eyes the older man sees the blond lifeless body on the helicopter floor, watches the compressions on the kid's chest, the fight to get him back.
Was it all for nothing?
"Yet" Rooster's voice shakes Pete from his mind, despite only being a whisper. The young pilot's gaze finally meets Maverick’s own, "Hangman isn't dead" the Lieutenant parrots back solemnly, "yet."
#top gun maverick#pete maverick mitchell#bradley rooster bradshaw#jake hangman seresin#top gun#dead on your feet#hey look at me#trying to write again
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
parent for hire
finally, the next instalment of this adventure! only another one to go (and an epilogue)! once more, major thanks to @kmomof4 for being the best beta!
Chapter Six - Camelot
word count: 9,372 words
rating: Teen and Up
tag list: @cocohook38 ; @bluewildcatfanatic ; @piraterefrigerator ; @sotangledupinit ; @booksteaandtoomuchtv ; @teamhook
read on AO3 | prologue | one | two | three | four | five (1) | five (2) | five (3)
They were summoned to the throne room the next morning. There had been new clothes laid out in their room and a bath prepared. Killian chose to explain it with magic and not think about the fact that there had possibly been someone in the room without him noticing.
Their bags had been delivered to their room the night prior and he was happy to note that their things were all present and accounted for. There wasn’t much he needed from it except for the drawing of his brother and his compass - a gift from Nemo. And his sword, of course.
Emma and her parents were already waiting for them in the throne room. Emma looked as beautiful as she had before. Her hair had been pulled away from her face, a blue leather vest and a white shirt she wore fit her like a glove, and the dark trousers complemented her form.
The three seemed deep in conversation, and the royals’ frowns told him that they weren’t happy with the course of it. He wasn’t a betting man anymore but he would wager he knew the subject.
“Even before we appeared on the bank of Lake Nostos, we promised we wouldn’t leave you again. We won’t go back on it now,” Snow tearfully explained.
“You can’t go. You said last night that you were ready to be the people’s ruler again. You have to stay here.” Emma’s tone had a hint of panic, of fear. “This is my mission, I need to go.”
“We can’t change your mind?” David almost begged. “We only just got you back…”
Emma took a deep breath. “I need to do this.”
The determination in her eyes blazed like fire and Killian watched as Snow looked at David, and gripped his hand in a tight grip, an entire conversation being held within their gazes. They turned watering eyes and sad smiles on their daughter, and Killian thought his heart would break.
“We know,” Snow said, her hand on Emma’s cheek. “You’re so grown, a hero in your own right.”
“I-I’m not-” Emma stuttered, her eyes shining in the morning light.
“You are,” David interrupted, pulling Emma and Snow to him for a tight hug.
Killian wondered how many years Emma had longed to be held this way, to be loved this way, and his heart went out to her while his mind traveled to the only parent he still had.
“Y-You don’t have to go, Emma.” Henry’s quiet voice next to him broke him away from his thoughts and the three-person hug in front of them as they finally noticed their audience. “You can stay. You should stay.”
His shaking voice had Killian’s hand tighten on his shoulder.
“Henry,” Emma kneeled in front of the boy, her hands cupping his cheeks. “I want to go with you. I want to make sure you’ll be safe.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m going to let you in on a little secret, Henry.” Snow’s voice shook just as much as the boy’s. “This family will always find each other.”
Snow stood close by, her hand back in her husband’s and he nodded. “There have been many times when Snow and I were separated from each other but we still held on to hope.”
“We were separated from our daughter all those years ago, but we had hope that we’d see her again,” Snow added with a watery smile.
“And look where we are now,” David finished.
“Never lose hope, Henry. Even the possibility of a happy ending is a very powerful thing.”
Henry nodded, tears running down his cheeks but a hopeful smile on his lips. He threw himself at Emma, burying his face on her neck as they both held on tight to each other. “Thank you,” he whispered.
Hope.
Maybe they were on to something.
After all, it was abundantly clear to him how much his life had changed ever since he started having hope.
David cleared his throat and Killian took the distraction to wipe away the tears that had escaped down his cheeks. “Since you’re off on an adventure, I wanted to give you guys something.” He gestured with his head towards the throne at the end of the room.
Henry and Emma followed him holding on to each other’s hands. Killian made to follow, when a hand on his chest stopped him. Looking down, he saw Snow’s watery eyes hiding a fire behind them. Emma’s fire.
“I have something important to ask of you.”
Killian nodded. “Of course, your Majesty.”
“That’s my daughter.” Her voice broke and she cleared her throat. “That’s my daughter and I want her back in my arms. I am prepared to give you anything you wish to protect her and make sure she lives. Gold. Jewels. Anything.”
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline the offer, Your Majesty.”
“What?” Her eyes were wide open with shock, her lips parted.
“You see…” He trailed away for a moment, his smile towards her nothing like his usual smirk, there was too much swirling through his chest to allow for such arrogance. “I have no need for your gold or your jewels. All I need is for Emma to be safe.” He couldn’t help the way his eyes drifted to her, the way she smiled at her father, the way she shined.
When he looked back at the Queen, she was smiling, a soft smile that lit up her eyes.
“You love her, don’t you?”
Killian looked away, scratching behind his ear. Was it so obvious?
“I’m starting to,” he confessed. “It creeps up on you, doesn’t it?”
Snow laughed and he couldn’t help but smile.
“It does, yes.” She nodded, watching him for a few seconds and sobering up. “When we left the castle yest- I mean, that day, we had hope that we’d see her again, yes, but I also had hope that, even if we didn’t, she’d be loved. She’d be okay.”
The Queen cleared her throat, trying to stave off the swelling sadness.
“She told us it wasn’t anything like I’d hoped. I regret that we weren’t able to give her that happiness and love.” She took a deep shaky breath. “But she’s strong. She pushed through and she became more than we ever expected. Seeing the way you and Henry love her, makes it all a little easier. Thank you.”
“Believe me, Your Majesty, loving them is, without a doubt, the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”
The smile on his face melted into shock by the Queen’s tight embrace around him. He hadn’t felt such motherly affection in years. His arms went around her slowly, his eyes closing.
“Killian, look what I have!”
Henry’s call broke their hug, Snow grabbing onto his arms to look at him with a smile. He could only smile back and let her hope fill him. Killian cleared his throat.
“What do you have, lad?”
“A knife!”
“What?!” In a flash, Killian’s smile again turned into shock as he strode over to them.
“It’s not a knife, Henry. It’s a dagger,” David corrected, a smile on his face.
“Why does he even have a dagger?”
“For protection,” David answered like it was obvious. “But only as a last resource, remember?”
“Yeah!” Henry’s reassurance didn’t mean much when the boy was pretending that he was in an imaginary fight with his dagger.
“Henry?” David crossed his arms on his chest and raised an eyebrow.
Henry looked up quickly, his eyes wide and mouth agape before nodding. “Right, last resource.” Sheepishly, the boy sheathed the dagger on the new scabbard on his belt. “Look, Snow. Look at my dagger!”
Despite his concern over the boy, he guessed David was right, Henry should be able to defend himself without his magic. Just the thought of the boy in danger, however… Killian didn’t want to consider it. He looked away to find Emma’s attention on the sword in her hands.
It looked nothing like her old one. This one looked heavier - more of a royal’s sword than a pirate’s, he guessed. The hilt was golden and the cross-guard was curved, a masterful build.
“Looks like a perfect fit, don’t you think?” David asked, having followed his gaze, a look of pride in his eyes.
“I-I don’t know.”
“Since we can’t go with you, I want to know you’ll have a piece of me with you. To help you.” David’s voice was shaky despite his best efforts.
“Thank you.” Emma’s voice matched her father’s as she smiled back. She sheathed the sword on the equally detailed scabbard on her belt.
“Killian!” Henry called as he approached them with Snow. “Have you told them where we’re headed next?”
“No, lad.” He smiled. “I thought you’d want to do the honors.”
“So, last night, Killian checked Cygnus. You know, the star we’re following.” Henry looked between them and, like the avid listeners they were, they nodded. “It’s telling us to go West, to Ca-”
“I’m glad you’re all here.” There was a flash of blue magic after the sound of the Blue Fairy’s voice and Killian couldn’t help the surge of annoyance that rose in him at her presence and interruption.
“Is there something wrong?” Snow asked with a confused frown.
“No, no, I’m here to open a portal for Emma and the Truest Believer,” she answered matter-of-factly. “They’ll be heading to Camelot.”
Henry deflated next to him and Killian frowned. “How do you know that?”
The Blue Fairy sighed. “Camelot is where Merlin will be waiting for the Truest Believer, to fulfill the prophecy.”
“What about Avalon?” Emma asked, taking a step forward. “I’m supposed to take Henry there.”
“Avalon is a myth, dear. It doesn’t exist. It’s merely a sailor’s tale.” Her tone was patronizing as she glanced unimpressed at Killian.
“Tinkerbell told me that the prophecy said that’s where I’m supposed to take Henry.”
“You should know better than to listen to that girl. She has disgraced her role as a fairy and has no business interpreting the prophecy.”
Emma frowned at the fairy’s haughty and indifferent tone. He agreed with the sentiment. Killian watched as Henry took a deep breath and approached the fairy. He couldn’t help the step he took towards the boy, the instinct to protect rising fiercely in him, stopped only by Emma’s reassuring hand on his arm.
“Blue, I need to-”
“Ah, yes, Henry, I have something for you,” the fairy interrupted.
His face lit up expectantly but Killian had already learned to expect the worse from her.
“Tiger Lily asked me to give you this.” In her hand was a vial of sparkly dust. “It's fairy dust.”
Henry frowned as he reached up to take the vial, only for the Blue Fairy to pull it from his reach.
“I was against giving this to you, given your age, inexperience, and its power, but she was adamant that you have it. Tiger Lily is a… special fairy, and she knows how to get her point across.” The frown on her face told Killian there was more she was leaving out of the explanation, but given how secretive the fairies were - and the Blue Fairy in particular - he doubted any of them would ever know what it was. The fairy raised her eyebrow expectantly. “She assured me that you’d use it wisely.”
“Of course, you can trust me.” The boy clutched the vial carefully, reverently. “Did she say anything else?”
“No.”
Henry cleared his throat. “Then maybe you can answer some of my questions.” Killian was proud of his strong tone but the Blue Fairy’s unchanged expression didn’t give him hope that she’d answer.
“No time for that.” Blue waved him away and the boy’s crestfallen expression was heartbreaking. She turned to the others. “Say your goodbyes quickly and I’ll open the portal.”
As soon as Henry got close enough, Killian pulled him close. “I thought they cared.” The boy’s whisper had him tightening his embrace.
Pulling away, Killian caressed the boy’s cheek before patting the hand still clutching the vial with his hook. “I think they still do, my boy.”
Henry looked down and nodded slowly. “Yeah…”
Killian pulled the boy in for another tight embrace, his hand on the back of his head.
“Be careful.” Snow spoke behind them, her hands on Emma’s cheeks, her voice shaky. “Trust your companions and please, don’t do anything reckless.”
“That might be hard, considering how much like your mot-” Snow gave David a silent glare, causing a watery smile to bloom on Emma’s face. “Like all your family you are.”
Emma smiled wide. “I promise I’ll be safe.” She was the one to initiate the hug now, her eyes closed in happiness, her hands gripping her parents’ clothes. “I’ll be back.”
Henry and Killian watched as they slowly released each other and Snow placed a kiss on Emma’s forehead. There was an insistent throat clearing from behind them that Killian completely ignored but broke the peaceful moment between the other three.
Snow and David made their way to Killian and Henry next, David pulling Henry into a big hug that lifted the boy’s feet from the ground and made his giggles echo in the large room. Snow’s hand was on his arm with a reminder of his promise in her eyes. He nodded.
They switched next and while David’s handshake wasn’t as emotional as Snow’s hug, Killian still saw the emotion in the man’s eyes, pleading for the same promise the Queen asked of him. Killian tightened his grip on the man’s hand and nodded, an unspoken agreement between the two. Snow was peppering kisses all over Henry’s face making him laugh once more. That was definitely a good start to an adventure.
The Blue Fairy’s impatience grew too loud to ignore and they all turned to her.
“Now that you’re all done,” the fairy pointedly remarked, “it’s time to go.”
With a wave of her wand, a bright orange portal roared to life.
“We love you, Emma,” Snow called over the noise of the portal.
“Come back to us,” David added.
Emma nodded vigorously, lips thinned in overwhelming emotion. She held onto Henry’s hand. Killian held on to the other as they approached the swirling portal. They all turned back to look at the royals they were leaving behind for one last glance.
Not waiting another moment to change their minds, they all crossed through the portal.
---
The first thing that came to Killian’s mind once they came out on the other side was the lack of nausea. Which was a very happy and welcome reprieve.
Second thing was the silence.
They stood in the middle of a pathway, stone walls standing tall in front of them. Killian turned around to an empty village. Houses were closed, streets were clear, shops were shut.
He was getting really tired of desolate kingdoms.
But this silence was different. There were people here, he could feel it. Unlike Misthaven, there were no signs of disaster. People were just gone. Hidden.
“Another deserted kingdom?” Emma sighed, her voice quiet.
“It seems our little adventure has a theme.”
“I feel something inside those doors,” Henry whispered, his finger pointed at two large wooden doors embedded into a tall stone wall.
“Last chance to turn back,” Killian teased, even with an anxious cadence to his voice.
Emma rolled her eyes with a hint of a smile while Henry chuckled before pulling the two adults towards the doors. Taking a deep breath, they pushed the doors open.
The doors gave way to a large courtyard lit by the midday sun. On the other side of the circle, stood a man in shining silver armor. His hair was dark and his terrible grin shone in the sunlight. Next to him, sat a woman. Hair as dark as the man’s but her expression spoke of an immense sadness, regret and fear, all the fight taken out of her.
“He told me you’d appear,” The man said, his voice echoing in the courtyard.
“Who are you?” Killian asked, standing in front of Henry who grabbed onto his sleeve.
“I’m King Arthur of Camelot and I’ll be taking the Heart of the Truest Believer from you.”
“Just you, mate?” Killian asked, a smirk on his face and eyebrow raised. “I have to say, I like our odds.”
Arthur’s grin widened before he whistled. For a few seconds, nothing happened. Suddenly, a large lion-like creature crashed into the courtyard - its mane and tail was made of fire and it was easily twice the size of an actual lion. Its roar shook the ground they stood on.
“You had to ask,” Emma grumbled next to him, unsheathing her sword.
“At least it’s just one this time,” Henry commented from behind them.
Killian sighed in exasperation, shifting on his feet as he armed himself.
The creature sat next to the king, his fiery eyes on the three strangers. While Killian was a man of bravery, the creature’s size was enough to make him reconsider his initial plan.
“Alright, mate, we might have started on the wrong foot,” Killian started, trying for a disarming tone.
“Give me the Heart of the Truest Believer or I will take it from you. It's as simple as that, mate,” Arthur interrupted.
“Why do you want it so much?” Henry asked, taking a step forward. Both Killian and Emma stepped closer to the boy at Arthur’s hungry stare. He knew it was Henry.
“Why?! My kingdom is broken, and your heart will make it whole!”
“And you’d kill an innocent boy for your kingdom?!” Emma asked, angrily.
“Please, Arthur,” the woman next to him pleaded. “You don’t need to do this, we can still be happy.”
Killian watched as the madness in Arthur’s gaze eased, his eyes shifting from his queen to Henry. There was something hidden behind his eyes - recognition. A fast blur flew over them and he felt as if they were being watched, a tingle on the back of his neck. Any progress he thought they had made with Arthur seemed to shatter, a shadow shuttering his eyes once more.
“For years, I lived for Merlin’s prophecies!” Arthur shouted. “For years, I was mocked, ridiculed, for believing that I would be king! And when it finally happened, I’m given this, this broken kingdom! But with your heart, I will make it whole! Your heart will make me a king!”
He raised his hand then, the beast standing on four feet, its fire burning bright and angry.
“No more talking, the Heart is mine!”
Without any further warning, the beast leapt forward, its thundering steps unsettling their footing. Henry threw his hands up, a strong magical shield stopping it in its tracks. The shield wouldn’t last long, with the beast charging it again and again.
“What are we going to do?” Killian asked, watching Henry.
“Arthur is controlling the monster,” Emma answered, focused on the creature. “We need to split up.”
“What?”
“Like we did in Arendelle,” Henry added, with obvious difficulty. The strain of holding the shield against the monster’s attacks was wearing on the boy.
“Henry and I will deal with this beast, you’ll get Arthur,” Emma delegated. “On three, Henry will lower the shield, I will hold the creature back while you run to Arthur. Ok?”
Killian nodded. “Be careful, both of you.” His eyes lingered on his companions, hope burgeoning in him for their safety.
“You too,” Henry said, Emma nodding in agreement.
“Alright, one, two, three!”
Henry’s shield came down followed immediately by a blast of white magic from Emma’s hands. The beast was thrown a few feet, letting Killian use that distraction to run towards where Arthur watched the fight. Expectedly, Arthur saw him coming and armed himself in time to block Killian’s attack.
The beast focused back on the magic users. Killian kept an attentive ear on the battle next to him, hoping that he wouldn't hear Emma or Henry get hurt.
Killian and Arthur’s swords clanged in tune with the beast’s growls. Arthur didn’t fight like any royal he’d fought against before but then again, neither did Killian.
“Call off your beast,” Killian grunted, as he managed to lock Arthur’s sword against his. “You won’t win!”
Arthur’s determined gaze spoke louder than any words as they forced each other’s swords.
More than willing to play dirty, Killian kicked at Arthur’s leg, ruining his balance and causing him to fall. While on the floor, Arthur grinned even with Killian’s sword pointed at him. But he wasn’t looking at him. “I disagree.”
Killian’s heart beat louder in his chest as he turned to look at his companions, even knowing how dangerous it was. Turning to them, Killian saw Henry laying down, looking terrified as the beast’s large paws pinned him to the ground. The beast bellowed loudly.
He couldn’t see Emma.
“Henry!” Killian called, turning towards the boy, blind with his need to protect him.
“Not so fast.” Arthur’s smug voice reminded him of his ongoing battle. “We are not done yet.”
He was glad for his years of practice as he managed to side-step a swipe at his head. A white glow and a loud whine had him hoping that Emma had managed to save Henry. Arthur’s angry expression confirmed it.
From then on, his mind was torn. Killian tried to focus on Arthur’s fighting techniques, on learning and avoiding them, but he knew most of his focus was elsewhere.
There was a lull in the magical battle next to him. A million scenarios paraded through his mind and he hated all of them. His sword swipes became faster and more intense and he relished the frown on Arthur’s brow. Their swords locked and he put all his strength behind it.
“Now!” Henry’s shout surprised them both and they turned at the same time.
Killian watched as Henry jumped to the side as Emma used her hands to direct water on top of the beast. Amazingly effective, the fire was extinguished and the beast fell to the ground, breathing heavily.
“No!” Arthur shouted and Killian quickly focused on stopping any thought of intervention by holding his sword against the king’s neck.
Unflinchingly, Henry approached the beast and fumbled with something on his clothing. From where he stood, Killian saw the sparkle of what he assumed was the fairy dust Henry had been gifted fall on the beast.
A blinding light encompassed the large monster. When it was gone, they were all surprised to find a man lying where the beast used to be. A man wearing a knight’s outfit.
“Lancelot!” The queen called from where she had been sitting restlessly before rushing towards the waking man on the floor. “I thought you had left.”
Despite the distance between where he stood and the tender scene in front of him, Killian still heard the relieved sigh of the man. “I could never leave you, Gwen.”
Never had he thought they would be reuniting long-lost lovers with this adventure, but then again, he never thought he’d be in this adventure in the first place.
His eyes immediately found Henry and Emma, who appeared unscathed even if tired. The relieved feeling in his heart was overwhelming, and he couldn’t take his eyes off them. Killian could only look at Henry’s proud and happy expression, at Emma’s hand on the boy’s shoulder, and her own look of joy. It looked simply beautiful on her.
“Killian! Look out!” Henry called loudly and Killian moved just in time to miss Arthur’s swipe at his head. A bright white light threw Arthur against one of the stone columns, rendering him unconscious.
A word of gratitude was stopped on his tongue at Emma’s look of terror and Henry’s matching one. A breeze blew through the courtyard making him aware of a cold sting on his throat. He dropped his sword to touch the left side of his neck. When he looked at his hand, there was an alarming amount of blood on it for a mere scratch.
“Oh.” Killian’s knees wobbled under him as he knelt to the ground. In seconds, Emma and Henry were in front of him.
There was pressure on his neck. Emma’s green eyes came into focus and his heart shattered at the worry and fear in them. He wished they would never look that way.
“Killian?” Henry’s quiet call squeezed his heart. He had promised that Henry wouldn’t feel that way again. “Can’t you heal him, Emma?”
Emma shut her eyes and he mourned the loss. There was only the sound of his labored breathing.
“I can’t!” Emma shouted in frustration. “Come on, Killian, stay with us!”
He wanted to tell her that he wouldn't leave - that he would never leave them - but the pressure on his throat stopped him. Their faces turned blurry and he could feel his mouth open and close, wanting to tell him that it was okay, that all that mattered was that they were okay. That he loved them.
Emma’s face became even more blurry as she shook her head.
“No.” Her voice sounded far away but never more clear. “We are not losing you, not now, not ever.” He felt her deep breath in his own chest.
The warmth on his hand disappeared and Killian watched as Emma grabbed Henry’s hand and placed it over hers on his neck. “We’ll do this together, like we’ve done everything so far. What do you say, kid?”
Killian could hear the desperation in her voice and he wondered if Henry could hear it too. The pressure on his neck grew and he was finally able to take a deep breath.
“Let’s do this.” Henry’s voice was less confident than he no doubt intended, too wrapped in despair, but it didn’t make Killian trust him any less.
There was a sudden burning feeling on his throat and he howled in pain. He felt as though his wound was being cauterized from the inside. There was a tight grip on his arms, barely felt over the pain.
He remembered the way Nemo held his only hand as the blurry face of a shipmate burned his stump. He remembered wanting it to stop, wanting everything to stop, wanting the peace and quiet of death. He remembered the way he held onto revenge when he woke up days later.
This pain, however, he bore it, cherished it, welcomed it because he knew that it would allow him to live. It would allow him to be okay. It would allow him to see Emma and Henry again.
“Killian?”
It did.
His eyes fluttered open to find the worried faces of his companions, his family. Killian only had a second to witness the look of relief and happiness on Henry’s face before the boy threw himself against him in a tight hug, the feeling of holding the boy in his arms better than any magical remedy.
With his arms wrapped around the boy, he finally looked at Emma. There were tears in her eyes but the most beautiful smile on her lips. How he loved her smile.
“You aren’t getting rid of me yet, love.” His voice was hoarse and quieter than he expected but it was worth it for the quiet chuckle she gave.
“Good.”
He felt the warmth of her hand on his face, the light stroke of her thumb on his cheek but all he could see were her eyes. The happiness, the relief, and something else he hoped would be there for a long time to come.
“Is he okay?” A familiar female voice sounded from behind Emma.
She nodded, without taking her eyes off him, a soft smile on her lips. “Yeah, he’s okay.”
Henry’s head lifted from their embrace to smile brightly at the two of them and Killian could only laugh. Laugh at how stupidly happy he was to have met them. The way they joined in his laughter warmed his heart, and reminded him of how happy he was to be alive.
Killian held on to Emma’s arm, sadly staining the white shirt with his blood - not that they cared much - so he could sit up. Henry’s hands were on his arms, a worried frown on his forehead. But Killian only smiled. He was alive, he was okay, he was ready to carry on his life with them. His hand tightened on Emma’s arm as he bumped his forehead with Henry’s.
“Thank you,” he whispered before he moved back to look at the two of them. “Thank you for saving me.”
Henry’s smile was wide, his small body crashing into him for a second time. “Thank you for staying.” The boy’s whisper sounded loud in his ears and he wished he could stay in this moment forever.
A loud scream interrupted them.
They looked towards the source to find the queen with a horrified look on her face as she pointed towards the far side of the courtyard.
“Arthur…” Lancelot whispered with the same expression.
They all turned to see Arthur’s body standing in front of the pillar Emma had thrown him against. That would be alarming all on its own, but the truly shocking part was the fact that his head hung forward, the man still clearly unconscious. The king’s body took stumbling steps towards them, his head lolling from side to side.
As Arthur continued his lumbering approach, Killian noticed a second shadow on the floor. A much less fumbling figure from Arthur’s unstable form.
With Emma’s help, Killian stood from the ground, pulling Henry behind them. From the corner of his eye, he could see Lancelot - even in his weakened state - try to shield his queen.
And then, Arthur stopped.
They watched as his head was thrown back, his whole body following suit and so precariously unbalanced that Killian wondered how he was still on his feet.
A bright gash appeared in the middle of Arthur’s chest without any response from the man, not even a small whimper, even when a hand burst out from the rift. One of the shadows reflected on the ground began to convulse until it disappeared.
“Take her to safety, now!” Emma yelled towards the other two people in the courtyard, forcing Henry further behind them, hoping to block his view.
They heard the urging voice of Lancelot and the frightened voice of the queen before the couple’s rushed footsteps reached their ears.
Their full attention drawn back in front of them once Lancelot and the queen were safely away, they watched as a second hand joined the first, widening the tear in the king’s chest. Killian could only hope he could spare Henry the nightmares that were sure to follow the gruesome scene. It was only moments before a blonde head emerged from the fissure. And then the figure stepped out of the former king’s carcass to stand in front of them, Arthur’s body crumbling to the ground.
“When you want something done, you have to do it yourself.” The surprise guest’s voice was eerily peppy given the macabre scene surrounding them and Killian struggled to keep his jaw from dropping.
He looked only a few years older than Henry, even though his face told of decades of existence and he was dressed in a green outfit that reminded Killian of Emma’s old one. He’d seen him before. Emma gasped.
“Pan…”
“Hello, Duckling.” Pan was grinning and his voice lacked surprise. He knew they would be here. “Didn’t think you’d seen the last of me, did you?”
“H-How is this possible? You can’t leave Neverland!” Emma’s voice trembled. She looked terrified, a panic in her eyes that he’d only seen once before - when they sailed too close to the island aboard the Black Pearl. A lost girl.
“Our dimwitted king helped me with that,” Pan said smugly, pointing towards the body. “His failure gave me enough time to get the Heart of the Truest Believer myself.”
“You’re just as dimwitted if you think we’ll let you take the Heart.” Killian took a step forward, inching himself closer to Emma and covering Henry more.
“Ah, Captain Hook, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” Emma tensed up next to him and Henry placed a questioning hand on his arm but he didn't stop directing his glare towards Pan. “I had expected a bounty hunter like you to have been more interested in the deal I offered.”
“You were wrong.”
“Pan was the one who sent you after me?” Henry’s quiet question pulled his attention off Pan.
“I didn’t know who he was when we spoke.”
“Lucky for you, I’ll give you another chance.” Their eyes followed Pan’s casual pacing, the feeling of prey watching a predator settling on them. “Give me the boy and you can leave. Go back to your life.”
Killian glared at Pan’s knowing and confident grin, as if he knew Killian would take the deal. Henry’s hand tightened on his left arm, and Emma sent him a sidelong glance. But Killian couldn’t take his eyes off Pan.
“And what makes you think I would accept?”
“It’s like you said,” Pan replied with a shrug of his shoulders, “you’re a survivor.”
A shiver ran down his spine. He’d never said that to Pan or anyone else besides Emma. Not for the first time, the feeling came over him that they were being watched.
“I have been watching you three for a while.” Pan’s eerily calm demeanor became even more disturbing. “So, I’m going to sweeten the deal. Give me the boy and I’ll even let you take someone with you. Emma.” His penetrating stare landed on her and a small, utterly depraved and evil smile lifted the corner of his lips before he spoke again. “My sweet duckling. We both know how much you would love that.”
“And if I refuse?”
“I’ll kill you all.”
The demon’s nonchalant attitude as he made the statement made gooseflesh erupt on Killian’s skin, but he just hummed, as if considering the proposal. “That’s an interesting proposition.” His hand tightened on his dagger. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to refuse.”
Killian was grateful for his connection with Emma as his thrown dagger was matched by the whistling of her short arrow. The weapons traveled towards their common enemy, only for a dark blur to stop them.
Pan laughed, a terrible laugh that made his ears ring. “You didn’t really think it would be that easy, did you?”
They didn’t have time to answer before they were being pulled back by the arms. Killian felt the tight grip immobilizing him but when he tried to escape, he couldn’t see anyone. Looking towards where Emma was caught in the same struggle as he was, he noticed a dark shadow behind her, a shadow holding the arms of her shadow. It occurred to him that this might be a battle they wouldn’t be able to win.
Pan approached with slow, confident steps where Henry stood helplessly looking between his two companions. The lad looked scared but Killian’s struggle to escape was useless.
“Get away from the boy!”
“Leave him alone!”
Killian and Emma’s voices were angry but they were laced with desperation.
“You had your chance.” Pan shrugged again with a wide grin. “Now, you’ll get to see me kill the boy. And then, you’ll see me kill my runaway Swan. Only then will I kill you. Nice and slow!”
Killian’s struggle grew more violent as Pan got closer to Henry. From the corner of his eye, he could see Emma was doing the same.
“Why do you want my heart?” Killian could hear the fear in Henry’s voice, but there was bravery in his eyes.
“Have you learned nothing? I want power! I want the power your heart will give me!” Henry had to look up as Pan approached, but he didn’t back down.
There was pride mixed in with Killian’s fear.
“How did you know it was me?”
“I thought you were smarter than that, laddie,” Pan grinned. “A prophecy told me about you, a baby born in a night with no moon or stars. Your parents knew it too, so it took me a long time to find you.”
“You saw my parents?” Henry’s voice was quiet, like the young boy he never got the chance to be. Killian’s frown matched the one on Emma’s face.
“No. But my Lost Ones did, the last ones to see them alive.” Pan’s fake pout had Killian’s hair stand at attention. “But that’s only because they’re the ones who killed them.”
The heartbreak coming from Henry nearly brought Killian to his knees. The boy knew he was an orphan but to hear it spoken of so callously and with so much certainty was the height of cruelty. It was clear Pan was enjoying inflicting this pain on the boy. He was feeding off it.
“They told me your father was the first to go, trapped in the house when my boys set it on fire-”
“Stop it!” Emma shouted.
“But your mother?” Pan continued, ignoring the two adults’ struggle, his grin widening. “She escaped, ran away with you, but she didn’t go far-”
“Don’t listen to him, lad!”
“Your mother abandoned you and ran away. You should be thanking me for having had her killed, she deserved it. We even celebrated!”
“He’s lying, Henry, I remember that night!” Emma’s voice broke through Pan’s sadistic game, bringing it to a screeching halt.
Henry turned to her and Killian saw the tears streaking down his cheeks and his begging eyes. Killian’s struggle intensified.
“Remember your place, Duckling,” Pan warned but she ignored him.
“That was the night I escaped, I remember the screams on the island. They weren’t celebrating,” she explained feverishly, “They had failed.” Her eyes were on the boy, a hint of a smile on her face, a smile meant only for him. “They were after you, but they didn’t find you. She didn’t abandon you and deep down you know that.”
Pan growled and Killian watched as another shadow joined the one behind Emma to pull on her hair. An involuntary whimper of pain escaped her lips even as she tried to stifle it. Henry took a step towards her but she shook her head the best she could to stop him. The boy turned back towards Pan.
“She didn’t abandon me.” Henry spoke clearly and with his head held high. “She protected me from you, she saved me. Your games won’t work on me.”
There was a moment when Pan’s frown marred his young face where Killian foolishly thought they could win, that Henry’s bravery would be enough. But then Pan smiled.
“You’re right, no more games.” His voice was soft and calm but it only unnerved them. “I’ll be clear, give me your heart or they die.”
Pan grinned as he snapped his fingers. A black figure appeared in front of Killian, there was no face, no body, merely the shadow of a person. That’s what it was, a shadow - he’d never seen one up close and he suddenly feared it would be the last thing he would ever see.
Without warning, the shadow grabbed onto his shoulders and began to slowly pull. This pain was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before, including the one he had suffered only moments ago. It felt like his insides were being pulled out of him - as if his very essence was being removed.
His screams of pain were echoed by Emma’s, who was clearly suffering his same fate.
“Run, Henry!” Killian yelled. “You need to run!”
“No! I won’t leave you, I won’t let you die!”
“You need to go, Henry!” Emma urged him between screams of pain.
“No!” Henry unsheathed his dagger to point it at Pan. “Let them go!” Henry looked so frightened, his dagger held in a shaky grip.
“Even if you could kill me, they would still die,” Pan gloated with a shrug. Henry’s arm lowered in defeat. “What’ll it be, Believer? You or them?”
“No!”
“Don’t listen to him!”
“I’m sorry… This is my fault, but I can still save you.”
Time stopped as they watched Henry’s hand shine with a white light before he shoved it into his own chest. They watched as Henry removed a golden heart, his knees wobbling.
“Please, Henry!”
“Don’t do this!”
Henry glanced towards them with a brave and hopeful gaze. “I love you.”
They watched as Henry pushed the golden heart into Pan’s chest before collapsing to the floor. Pan’s victorious laughter surrounded them, but what truly mattered was that suddenly there was nothing restraining them, nothing pulling the life out of them anymore.
Before he could take a proper breath, Killian was kneeling next to Henry’s unconscious body, Emma on the other side. His hand touched the boy’s neck, his chest, hoping for a heartbeat he knew wouldn’t be there. His skin was still warm and Killian remembered another one he loved who laid in his arms the same way.
“Is- Is he dead?” Emma’s voice was quiet and Pan’s laughter grew louder and stronger.
Killian’s mouth opened and closed silently, unable to answer her question, unable to admit the truth they both knew.
“People will do the stupidest things for love,” Pan pouted, a fake mournful tone to his voice.
“You did this!” Emma growled but Killian grabbed her arm, stopping her.
“Actually, he did it to himself,” Pan shrugged, an unconcerned smile on his face. “You saw it, he took out his own heart, but don’t worry, it’s in a safe place.” He patted his chest with a smug grin.
Unable to look at Pan’s face anymore, Killian turned back to the boy. He looked like he was simply asleep, like he would wake at any moment. But Killian knew he wouldn’t. He felt Emma’s anger-fueled grief under his grip as he heard Pan take a deep satisfying breath.
“I finally have the Heart and now the world will be my Neverland!” Pan held out his arms in triumph. “Thank him for me. I’m sure you’ll be seeing him soon enough.”
Killian let go of Emma’s wrist as his hand went to the boy’s chest, feeling the still chest when his own heart was hammering against his. It wasn’t fair.
“Take my heart.” Emma’s words matched his own as they both spoke at the same time, the same expressions on their faces - determination and hope.
Killian glanced towards Pan, hoping the villain was too distracted to stop them. He stood a few feet away focused only on the new power in his chest and the bright golden light of his stolen magic, victorious.
“Emma,” Killian started in a quiet voice. “I promised to return you to your parents. If we’re going to use anyone’s heart, it should be mine.”
Emma shook her head. “No, I won’t take you from his life. You’re too important to him.”
“So are you!”
“I don’t even know if this will work for us and then you will have died for nothing.”
“If it’s to save Henry, it won’t be for nothing.”
They looked at each other, their faces both stubborn and hopeful.
“Together?” she asked, her voice wobbly.
“Emma-”
“We’ve done everything together since we met, Killian. We should do this together, too.”
Killian took a deep breath, focusing on her green eyes. He nodded and the way they brightened with hope was enough for him to nod more vigorously.
“Together.”
Emma laid her hand on his chest, but where there had been confidence, now there was fear. “I’ve never done this before.”
He placed his hand over her wrist. “I believe in you.”
Emma nodded and pushed her hand into his chest. He stifled a grunt of pain when she pulled it back out. He hadn’t expected the surprisingly red heart that she now held in her hand, a small dark blob in the center of it. Maybe he wasn’t as lost as he thought.
The world was dull around them and there was a feeling of emptiness in his chest. He still felt the love for the two people in front of him but it felt muted.
She took a deep breath as she looked between his heart and him before she plunged her own hand inside her chest. With her own groan of pain, she removed her hand, now holding a bright red heart.
“Hmm, I should split them.”
“Aye, that should work.” A weak chuckle made the corner of her lips rise.
Emma placed her heart confidently in his hand. Killian held it reverently as she focused on his. He felt the magic in her fingers, her careful grip, like a warm fire in his chest. Her heart beat fast in his hand and he hoped she felt the same warmth that he felt.
He winced when she finally jerked her hands, successfully splitting his heart. “That was interesting.”
“I’m sorry.” Her eyes were wide in concern.
Killian shook his head. “We need to hurry.”
They traded hearts and he held on to his split heart as Emma focused on hers. He glanced at Pan to see him floating a foot off the ground, hands raised. Killian noticed how the courtyard appeared darker, despite the high sun in the sky. He watched as a couple of shadows already circled Pan’s feet. They really needed to hurry and get out of there.
He heard her whimper and turned to see her holding her halved heart. She quickly placed one half back in her chest, a shiver running down her body as she got used to the feeling.
“Now, you.”
She grabbed one half of his heart and placed it in his chest. It was a strange feeling. It was a relief to be able to feel again, no longer the muted experience of before, but there was still a sense of being incomplete, of something missing.
They looked at each other, an unspoken question between them. He nodded.
He held his breath as Emma joined both halves together, as they stitched themselves to form a complete heart. They took a deep breath when it worked. Their surroundings were darkening and the glowing red heart was like a beacon.
Killian grabbed Emma’s wrist. Their hands holding the constructed heart hovered over Henry’s chest and with a last deep breath, they pushed.
“Fight, my boy.”
“Come back to us.”
It felt like years before Henry took a gasping breath. A powerful wave of multicolored energy passed through them and then they heard it.
“No!”
Pan’s scream caught their attention and they watched as he came back to earth, turned towards them, and began to approach with angry steps before falling to his knees. A bright beacon began to form on his chest and Pan’s screams turned from fury into pain.
They watched, dumbfounded, as Pan burned from the inside out until there was nothing but ash where he once stood. He wouldn’t be missed. They looked up as the midday sun began to shine brightly in the sky again.
“Henry?” Emma called softly, her voice watery.
The boy finally opened his eyes. Glancing between the two adults, he seemed to understand exactly what just happened. His lips curled in a small smile.
“Guess I have another great story to tell, huh?”
Emma let out a startled laugh before she pulled Henry into a tight hug, Killian shaking his head amusedly before joining. They all took a collective breath.
Killian could feel his beating heart echo, feeling twice the love, no longer incomplete. He cupped Henry’s head and placed a kiss on his forehead, completely unconcerned over his wobbly voice.
“We thought we lost you, my boy.”
“But you didn’t lose hope.” Henry smiled before burrowing his face in Emma’s neck.
Emma chuckled, running her fingers through the boy’s hair. “We learned from the best.”
Henry is the first to break the hug but he doesn’t go far, his hands holding each adult’s arm in a tight grip. “I love you.”
Killian shouldn’t have been surprised by the sentiment, considering the great lengths they had all gone for each other in the time they’ve known each other, but it’s still surprising to see someone give their love so instantly, so freely. His heart felt too large for his chest even with its reduced size, but he cherishes it.
Emma’s smile widened and she stroked his face. “We love you, too.”
“You know we do. I’m sure you can feel it.” Killian tapped the boy’s chest with his hook, with a smile.
Henry smiled widely, eyes watering before nodding vigorously and pulling them both close for another hug. Killian can only hope to feel this love everyday for the rest of his life.
“Are you all alright?”
The familiar female voice broke their quiet moment. Not giving up much of their personal space, the three of them turned to see the Queen approaching slowly with a steadier Lancelot, his arm around her shoulders.
Killian took a deep breath. “Aye, and I’m pleased to see you safe and sound as well.”
“We wanted to help, bu-”
“This was our battle,” Emma interrupted Lancelot’s apology with a kind smile. “You two were in no shape to fight.”
“Besides,” Henry turned to them with a smile of his own. “Camelot needs its queen safe and sound.”
Despite the Queen’s smile, they could all see the guilt in the furrow of her brow. “I knew he was obsessed with the prophecy, but I always thought I would have my Arthur back.” She paused for a moment. “I never thought he was so…mad.”
“Gwen,” Lancelot interrupted. “Arthur was lost to us a long time ago. We tried our best to help him, he just wouldn’t listen.”
Killian stood first before he helped Emma and Henry stand next to him. “He’s right, there was nothing any of us could do.”
“Pan is- was a demon, he corrupted whatever good Arthur had in his heart. Like he does to all things.”
Emma’s tone had Killian placing his hand on her arm, Henry leaning back against her in a gesture of comfort.
Gwen nodded, wiping her tears. “Now, Camelot can return to its former glory.”
“With a wonderful Queen to rule it,” Lancelot added with a soft smile.
As Gwen’s cheeks reddened, Killian turned away with an amused smile mimicked by Emma, while Henry watched them with bright eyes. Killian’s eyes found Emma’s and he cherished the reddish hue on her own cheeks.
Gwen cleared her throat hoping to move away from the moment but they noticed the way her hand found Lancelot’s as she did. “We would like to thank you. If there’s anything you need…”
“We wanna know where to find Merlin,” Henry burst out, Killian’s hand on his shoulder doing little to ease his excitement.
The way Gwen and Lancelot looked at each other quickly told Killian and Emma that they wouldn’t find the answers they hoped for there.
“Merlin has never been here.”
“At least, not while we’ve lived here.”
Henry’s silence was deafening and he looked up at his two companions with a worried frown.
Killian sighed as he squeezed the boy’s shoulder in comfort. “Do you know where we can find him?”
Gwen was quiet for a moment. “When we were children, Arthur used to speak to a tree in the kingdom grounds that he believed Merlin had been trapped in. That’s where he was told of the prophecies.”
“When he came into power, he cut down every tree around the castle grounds. So even if Merlin had been here, I suspect he no longer is…”
Killian nodded, trying not to let his frustration show.
“We should carry on our way, then. There’s still a lot we need to do,” Emma answered with a tight smile.
“Are you sure we can’t give you anything? You can rest here, eat.” Gwen frowned.
Killian felt Henry’s questioning stare on his face but ignored it. “We should really get going, but thank you.”
They made quick work of grabbing their things and walked out of the kingdom’s gates under the confused stares of the Queen and her knight. Both Emma and Killian ignored Henry’s confusion until they were a safe distance from the castle. By then, the Camelot people were leaving their houses with questioning gazes and curious questions.
“Why did we leave so fast?” Henry finally asked.
“We don’t know them, lad.”
“They might not have been on Arthur or Pan’s side but there are always dangers around,” Emma added, holding on to Henry’s hand as they made their way through the crowds.
“But they were good people, we could have asked them what they know.”
“We did, and they didn’t know anything, lad. They were victims just like us and they now have to deal with a whole kingdom wanting answers.”
“So where are we supposed to go now?”
Killian and Emma were quiet at that. The truth was they didn’t know. This was the first time they didn’t know where to go. Pan was defeated, that should have been the final piece.
“You don’t know, do you?” Henry asked with a raised eyebrow and a smile creeping up on his face.
“Well,” Emma stuttered, causing Henry to chuckle and Killian to smile. “I know we need to get to Avalon…”
“We just don’t know how to get there,” Killian finished with a teasing smile.
“It’s not like Cygnus is available to give us directions.” Emma gestured towards the bright afternoon sky pointedly.
Henry laughed. They had reached the town proper. They stood in the middle of the emptying market, everyone had followed the news towards the castle, only the merchants left behind, worried over leaving their wares.
“We should find somewhere to wait until evening,” Killian told his companions. It was the only permission Henry needed to begin exploring the market under their watchful eye. “We’ll check for Cygnus then.”
“I agree.” He watched Emma’s smile from the corner of his eye and couldn't help but match it.
They could breathe now. Their journey wasn’t over but they defeated Pan. Henry was alive and so were they. The more he looked at her and the more he heard Henry bombarding questions at the merchants, the happier he was for being with them now, for having made the decision to protect Henry when they first met.
Her eyes found his and his breath hitched in his chest. Their last conversation played through his mind. They hadn’t reached Avalon yet, but after what they just went through, a part of him didn’t want to hold back any longer.
“Emma-”
“Killian-”
They spoke at the same time, pausing to look at each other with a shy smile.
“You go first,” Emma allowed with a nod.
“Emma, I-”
He'd recognise that ship anywhere. The rigging he climbed time and time again, the hull he begged to help clean with Starkey while they flew forty thousand feet in the sky. The ship he tried to escape from so many times. The ship that turned out to be the home he never had.
Nemo would be there. He would be there and so would his disappointed eyes. His anger. At that moment, he felt just like the troubled teen he hadn't been in a long time.
Emma looked at him with expectant and confused eyes as his silence and stupefied expression lasted longer and longer. He looked once more at the ship but saw no familiar faces looking out but that wouldn’t always be true.
“We need to go.”
“What?” Emma frowned, defensiveness taking over.
“Where’s Henry?” Killian looked around. “Henry!” The boy’s dark head of hair quickly turned to where they stood in confusion. “We need to go now.”
“What happened?” Henry asked as he approached. “Is someone after us?”
“Killian Jones!”
The familiar booming voice echoed through the emptied market. Emma turned around first to see an imposing figure in a pristine naval outfit. From the corner of his eye, he noticed the man’s crossed arms. Killian wasn’t sure he could face an expression of sorrow on the face of the man he considered a father.
“I have been looking for you.”
#parent for hire#carolina writes#the actual big villain fight#shtuff happens#tw character death#killian jones#captain hook#emma swan#henry mills#captain swan#captainswan#once upon a time#ouat#captaincobra#captaincobraswan#king arthur#peter pan#cs ff
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
We've done it!
Or, more accurately, you've done it! Thanks to you, my fellow Tumblrinas, I've actually managed to hit 200 followers!
I never thought I would get this far, but I'm eternally grateful for all the love you've given me, and I can't wait to share many more brainrots with you!
In tune with that, I've decided: Why not let you look even further into my mind? I've given you lots of writing, but why not provide some visuals? And so, in thinking about what I wanted to do for my 200 followers celebration, I came up with...
⁕ Evie's Mind Palace Festival! ⁕
(Placing a cut so this doesn't get too long ^^)
As depicted in this lovely graphic above, I'm going to be focusing on my OCs' fashion for this little event. But not just that! I'll get to the bonuses later :)
For now, text version! Because Tumblr likes not loading images and some people may not be able to view the image
↬ Step 1: Pick an OC of your choice! From my OCs, that is. Hope that was clear. Anyone from the list. I'll even throw in a little bonus and say that unintroduced OCs are allowed! That means the ones on this list AND ones I may have rambled to to you in a chat we've had.
↬ Step 2: Pick an occasion prompt! The prompts are as follows:
Casual (aka everyday wear, aka their basic character design or an alternate outfit or it)
Formal
Training/Athletic
Battle (this may overlap with either 1. or 3. for some characters, but let's assume they actually get geared up for battle)
Hot weather (your typical summer clothes)
Cold weather (sweaters, winter coats, you name it)
Swimwear
Canon event (may overlap with some other categories, but I made this a separate thing for the lore opportunities it provides) - Make sure to specify what canon event you want!
Stealing clothes - You can include who the character should steal from in your ask, otherwise I will pick the victim myself.
Holiday-themed - Pick your holiday! Any holiday counts.
Fandombend - Pick your fandom! (This will probably come with some headcanons on what the OC would be like in the new fandom)
Inspired by a song - Please, pick a song! Preferably from the OC's playlist. I should have a playlist for almost every OC. Hop into the "#playlist" tag on my blog to find them and, if they're not posted over there anywhere, tap on any playlist that's there, let it take you to my Spotify profile, and hop into the "Character Playlists" folder!
↬ Step 3: If you want, pick an extra prompt! Your options are:
Historical - Please specify your time frame! You don't necessarily have to, but I tend to be an indecisive little gremlin, so it would make things a little easier if you could pick ^^"
Fantasy (This, of course, makes little sense if the OC is already in a fantasy setting)
Sci-fi (Once again, this makes little sense if the OC is already in a sci-fi setting)
Steampunk
Cultural - Please pick a culture for me to take inspiration from! It doesn't have to be a real-life culture. For example, you could pick Japan for some kimono art or you could pick the Kuja from One Piece!
Color prompt - Pick your color! I ask that you do keep it at one color so that I have some more freedom, and I won't take specific hex codes either because those specific hex codes might clash with the OC's color palette
Prompt of your choice - This can be literally anything! Yes, also an occasion, in which case it would replace your original occasion prompt. I just didn't have the space to add in all occasions known to man, so if you have another idea, this is where to put it.
↬ Step 4: Send your ask! Done!
Once you've sent your ask, please keep in mind that it might take me a while to answer it. I'll then make a collage/moodboard and get the ask posted. Maybe, I'll also draw your prompt, depending on if I have the energy and/or time for it. If I plan on doing that, I'll let you know in the post and tag you once I have the drawing finished! I may also be swayed into adding a little fic snippet to the answer, if I do feel so inclined. Maybe a song to match the vibes? It'll be a little surprise!
► Rules:
Be nice! It's not hard, and it's basically all I ask.
This is the one time you might not want to shower me in asks because these asks might take a bit to answer. I'm not putting a cap on how many asks per person you're allowed to send, just maybe be mindful of how long they take to answer and space them out over the time of the event.
I'll be accepting asks from the time that this is posted until March 17th. The event ends with the strike of midnight starting the next day. Whenever that may be in your time zone. As long as it's still 23:59 on March 17th somewhere around the world, send in your ask. I might also extend the event if asks keep coming in and I have the energy to keep going.
↬ Additional info for mutuals: You get to ask for crossovers! Just pick one of my OCs and one of yours and I'll try my best to draw them. I might bother you for references though, so be prepared! It doesn't matter how long we've been mutuals for! It could've been five minutes, you're still allowed to send in crossover asks. As long as we're mutuals, let's say, at the time that the ask is answered, it's all good. In practice, that means that you just need to be following me to be able to send in a crossover request. If you ask nicely and maybe say something about why you'd think why our two children would go well together and we share a fandom, it's very unlikely that I'll deny your request and won't follow you back.
Also, if you've ever wanted to say something about my OCs and/or me and my blog, this might be the perfect time for you to do it.
Okay, that's it for now! Love you, everyone! Here's to more fandom-y shenanigans!
Also, behold my new non-OC post divider! It features a lineart sketch of my blog icon in the middle! The icon was designed by @benevolenterrancy pretty much exactly two years ago when they realized my old icon was not, in fact, a unicorn. I still go full-on heart-eyes mode whenever I see my icon, so I figured it was time to remind everyone of the amazing artist that created it <3
Taglist: @starcrossedjedis @oneirataxia-girl @daughter-of-melpomene @fluffle-system @wheresmybloodynauglamir @supermarine-silvally @nanukanal @cody-helix02 (I believe this is the first time I've ever used my full taglist, aka the basic taglist plus everyone from fandom-specific taglists - wowie!) - Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed, for specific fandoms or the general list!
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
Naegamigiri/Naegirigami/Tonaegiri/PEN TATTOOING IN WHICH THE PEN IS JUST A SCHOOL SUPPLY
Remember this comic I made yesterday that was pretty goofy? Well, I'm adding to it! I MUST! First off, Makoto thought of this idea of giving fake pen tattoos with his boyfriend after going back into memory lane. Like, the thought about his good memories in elementary school watching other children do it or something. Or, I dunno! Maybe there was a foreign exchange student that showed them all. I'm bullshitting through this lore, okay! Regardless though, Makoto never ended up participating in this activity but, now since he's older, he wants to scratch it off his bucket list even if it's a bit silly. Byakuya finds this whole idea stupid and complains on how unnecessary this if for Makoto to do with him. However, the heir doesn't take much to agree though groaning the whole time. Cue the silly comic antics. Also, SOOO imagining the pure utter silence after Kyoko opened the door and saw these two bozos doing THIS of all things. Like, Makoto and Byakuya are embarrassed together and there is nothing they can do about it. Kyoko eventually breaks the silence though by asking the boys the obvious. "What are you two doing?" She 100% already deduced what they were up to of course. She's curious on what they have to say for themselves. This then leads to Makoto stumbling through his words while Byakuya is trying not to die on the spot. Kyoko eventually just chuckles and sits next to them though. After all, there's never a dull moment with these two. Kyoko probably decides to join them at some point too cus why would she pass up the opportunity to mess with Byakuya a bit. Like, the guy's the perfect target for her. His reactions are always so ridiculous due how how hard he tries not to look silly. Another thing I'm thinking is Kyoko eventually bringing up the doodle sketch Makoto drew of himself on Byakuya's side. It's not like she wouldn't notice, no matter how light the sketch is. Makoto eventually is unflustered enough to offer if she wants to draw something too. Byakuya, predictably, immediately says she shouldn't (he's still recovering from the embarrassment) but now she wants to do it even more so he's screwed. Kyoko lets Makoto finish his sketch first though while smirking to herself as Byakuya trembles the entire damn time since Makoto opted to go back to his lighter sketching method as to not hurt him this time. Also, dunno where to squeeze this but Kyoko definitely asks Makoto why they decided to do this on Byakuya's side. Makoto explains that Byakuya wanted to ensure that these stay hidden! He's not risking having the doodles on his arms. Meanwhile, Makoto doesn't mind having doodles on his arms so this side thing is just for Byakuya cus he's a special boy. Byakuya definitely doesn't feel too special after all of this though due to how embarrassed he got. Either way, after Makoto's done with his drawing fully (took him a bit with how much Byakuya was complaining and squirming the whole time), the three take time to admire his wore. It's a rudimentary sketch but they all like it. Or well, Makoto and Kyoko verbally do while Byakuya's coping by being in denial central. Like, he finds it charming but there's no way he's saying that willingly! However, the admiration soon ends and Kyoko takes a crack at drawing too. The whole time she draws, Byakuya's trying so freaking hard to stifle his reactions and squirming while still complaining and that the two tormenting him and how Makoto set the rules that they do each other. So, like, stop! He commands it. Makoto and Kyoko just look at each other before going back to doodling on the guy though. They take turns together as Byakuya is just a wreck since, this entire time, he's been focused on stifling every reaction he possibly can, albeit, terribly. He's not used to all of this attention and specifically this situation. Yet another thing that's foreign to him. Just complains the whole time on how weird it feels while Kyoko and Makoto are just bulling him. Byakuya gets his revenge though. Besides, Makoto needs his fake sleave of tats from his gorls!
#danganronpa#danganronpa headcanons#danganronpa makoto#makoto naegi#danganronpa kyoko#kyoko kirigiri#danganronpa byakuya#byakuya togami#naegiri#naegami#togiri#naegamigiri#naegirigami#tonaegiri#the naegamigiri rambles#text sector#gotta love shenanigans#byakuya totally draws himself on makoto's arm by the way#makoto's just chill with it though cus he's happy to have finally gotten this silly little idea off of his bucket list. was about damn time#byakuya was also just whining the whole damn time#like the entire freaking time even when they were done with doodling fake tattoos on him cus he's just a dramatic drama queen#he's just having a moment tho. give give ya gorl some time and he'll get over it... (he's not getting over it)#though he does have fun a bit when he gets makoto back and also randomly gets makoto's back even after this#gosh. i'm imagining him being super freaking petty now and doodling shit on makoto months after this to show that no. he didn't forget#makoto and kyoko are used to him being petty as hell though.#plus they can play that game too! there shall be war byakuya!#gosh. the more i reread this over and over the dumber this gets. like this is so silly and stupid and just very nonsensical in general#these three deserve to be silly sometimes though! they work hard and are way too stressed!
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Special Update!
New Years is on the way. So,I’ve been planning a few things!
I don’t know if y’all can tell, but I’m a very big project person. I love creating the concepts, drawings and rough drafts of my own projects. It fuels me with so much creativity and ideas it's not even funny. The only unfortunate part of this, is the fact that I never finish them.💀
They always get STUCK in the middle of something and there’s never an ending for them. I want to change that by doing some projects of mine I’ve been itching to get to. I’m only giving myself 3 for now.
TWST Character Resurrection:
A task where I revive my old TWST characters I abandoned by giving them new designs and backstories! Rekindling their relationships with one another while giving them a fresh new look at their personalities and how they became that way.
Also because there’s a lot of improvement that needs to be done with all of them.
The characters that are going to be resurrected are:
- Sullivan Laguna - Kai Ramsey - Photios Diamandis - Malachi Fotea - Blaze
They can finally be free from the grave! Unfortunately, Raizel and Orval must stay inside the grave. May they rest in piece.
TWST Retro AU:
A Twisted Wonderland alternate universe set in the 80’s where everyone can still use magic. Cable TV, the rise of different subcultures, rock bands, fun food courts and full of the bright youths of tomorrow trying to make a change in the world they live in. But, every dreamer has to have a start somewhere. And that all begins in High School. I’m still drafting some designs for the OG cast but this is definitely going to be the last project on my list of things I want to do this year. This is an AU I've been loving for quite sometime. So many clothing ideas and cliques/groups in here it's not even funny. Hopefully you guys will love it too.
The Melancholy Case of Kei Yoshihiko:
OK! This last project on the list, is the most biggest one by far. BUT! It will be so worth it. As you could probably tell from the header, I will be making something big for Kei. A birthday event that will have a few chapters and a possible new character to be added to the Ramshackle Dorm. The story will mostly focus on Kei feeling worthless, homeless and finally deciding to tell the truth about not actually being who he said he was, a detective.
I won't say too much as to not spoil what I'm trying to cook up. But as of right now, I have a very good feeling about this project. It may take a while and that's ok. <--- I'm coping.
Of course these projects will come out when they come out. I wouldn't dare give myself a schedule because I know for a fact that I would not make it. I need to pace myself and not force the creativity out. I'm really excited and passionate about this. EVEN IF IT TAKES SOME TIME THESE WILL BE FINISHED! That's all! \( ̄▽ ̄)/
19 notes
·
View notes
Note
🥐🌵🍓🍬🎱 -> any or all for your enrichment!!
All of this got long so under the cut to save people from scrolling it goes-
🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh
Not a reference (I don't think. I'll be real, I don't think I understand this question) but I sure do like that twink on tiktok what does the cooking
🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love
Please enjoy this nostalgia playlist of songs that have made me go 'how do I remember the fucking words to this' which I have appropriately named after a Celine Dion song.
There are two Celine Dion songs.
Toni Braxton is on it. So are The Cranberries.
The only two dudes to make the list are Boyz II Men and that guy from Sixpence None the Richer
🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character
Questions about unpopular fandom opinions always throw me for a loop. I'll go with saying that season 1 Jamie has more emotional maturity than people give him credit for, especially in regards to him and Keeley's breakup.
🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?
After spending most of my life daydreaming elaborate scenarios, I tried to write some of them down when I was like twelve.
They sucked so I went back to drawing fanart, which I was getting pretty good at.
Then when I was 15 I started writing some of them down again. They were pretty good, but wildly disconnected from canon in many cases. I would write down bits, discuss them with friends (who were writers writing things), and then go back to doing other things (mostly art). I still have some of those somewhere, I think.
Then when I was 20, an art major, I started to realize that fuck man, I sure do need something to do that isn't more fucking art. At that point, I had a pretty good idea for writing voice and structure, as I'd been voraciously reading fic for a decade. I wrote some things. It was fun. I went back to doing art.
Then in 2015 a friend and I went and saw this movie, The Man From UNCLE, and it was really really good. Between the two of us, she was more of the writer, but as we spun up a whole sequel/story together she asked if I wanted to write any of it. I said yes. She would write the first draft and I would fill out other scenes, and both of us would workshop and storyboard and bits we got stuck on. Occasionally I would add in entire sections of scenes to flesh things out.
2016, same friend and I start doing another co-writing thing but this time for The Musketeers (BBC show). This time there was a difference- instead of friend writing scenes and me adding bits, there would be entire scenes I'd write and then she'd come back in and edit/add bits.
Then some real life stuff happened and I stopped writing.
Then I briefly got into batman and wrote some stuff there, but never finished or published it.
Then I briefly got into OFMD and wrote some stuff there, but never finished or published it.
Then last year I got into Ted Lasso because of some amazing fic and in the lead up to season 3 airing I was like 'I sort of....want to write something?' And I wrote some stuff. Then, emboldened by everyone else posting things I figured- hey! What if I actually wrote something, finished it, and published it!
So to answer your question: I've always been here, but in a very real way my answer is 'last year.'
🎱 ⇢ post your AO3 total stats
Most of it is pre-Ted Lasso and doesn't feel like it should count since I wasn't doing the bulk of the work, so here is the adjusted to just Ted Lasso stats:
Fic Total - 6
User Subscriptions - 49
Kudos - 669
Comment threads - 78
Bookmarks - 146
Subscriptions - 170
Word Count - 30,040
Hits - 6,074
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
Curiosity Killed The Cat: A Solo Mystery Game About a Strange Murder
https://lackoftrumpets.itch.io/curiositykilledthecat
Another game jam finished! Curiosity Killed The Cat was my first time ever making a solo journaling game! You play as a detective who was recently invited to a part hosted by a wealthy business cat. You looked forward to a night of celebration, but unfortunately it looks like you will have to solve another case. Six culprits are on your list and you will need to figure out whodunit! The mystery starts off normal enough, but things may start to get weird. Standard clues like weapons and the victim's belongings may be found, but there are also magical items and maybe even a futuristic device or two. This game was made for @pandiongames's Hints and Hijinx Jam which revolved around making a game for the titular system. I have never made a solo game, so I figured it would be something new to try out. I decided to tinker with the system a bit to try to make it feel like you really were a detective in a whodunit mystery. I added culprits to the game and changed how you ultimately deduce the conclusion. Rather than making a dice roll have better odds, I decided to make it card based. You remove more cards for each clue you have obtained and then have to guess what the next draw will be. I had a lot of fun exploring this great system, so I hope you give this game and the game jam (which can be found here) a look!
42 notes
·
View notes
Text
2023.12.27 (w12.29, 3:50am)
I also did a direct study that day. Never have been a fan of both studies and realism style, until artist kse332/ Seung Eun Kim.
Doing studies is very hard, if you cannot turn off your brain fixing shit based on info you already learned. Doing live drawing was really helpful to understand how to turn off this habit for me, I visit DrinkNDraw local events(Estonia) couple times a year.
Also, I totally lack education in arts, fully self-taught and the studies were a subject i somehow totally skipped in learning.
So, successful study for me goes this way:
1. stare at the reference and let your hand do the thing without thinking. preferably barely glancing at your list. When you do, your mind will "fix" stuff which will actually distort anatomy.
2. because u will eventually mess up too much, the cheat code is to put a pic on your canvas and color-pick. This way the reference is very close, so your eye can measure better. Another way is to trace over the drawing before coloring (coloring book style), but i do it on rare cases when i cannot fix my anatomy to a point i get stupidly stubborn aobut it. Tracing is only ok for studies, otherwise it is art theft, imo.
3. optionally finish up the painting with already exaggerating and adding up stuff (overlay, highlights) that you do not see directly in picture but feel it will make the art pop. This will change colors you color picked, so it own't be a super direct study.
4. open new canvas and close the reference. Now doodle from memory similar pose (2nd pic)
5. (last pic, oc doodle i will continue) make a random doodle in different pose, no references and no thinking of the work you already did. You will realize you understand some aspects you learned thorugh this study isnt are able to draw them form different angles (your brain made a 3d map of the object based on your 2d study, soemthing like this).
to sum up, in this study I learned manboobs.
P.S. i may or may not have a pinterest board specifically for Jack Gyllenhaal.. Prisoners is one of the top movies everyone should check out. What a masterpiece. Also, I just like fighting movies & bloody dirty characters with strong wills (and/or questionable morals)
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
ColorMePurplex2's Jung Hoseok Masterlist
RATING: (regardless, this space is not for minors) G - general audience | PG - strong, suggestive language | PG-13 - frequent use of strong language, grittier subject matter | R - large amounts of vulgar language and adult references | MA - strictly for adults 18+ WARNINGS: please do not take these lightly, if it’s listed that means you can expect to encounter it DISCLAIMER: I do not claim to own any part of BTS. All members of BTS are faces and name claims for these stories. Every post is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgement, or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in my works are not representative of real-life scenarios.
▻ Box Of Chocolates ↳ Pairing: x f.Reader ┉ AU/Trope(s): Hometown, Exes to Lovers ⤜ Genre(s): angst, smut, mild fluff ⤜ Rating: MA Chapters: [2/2] WC: 15,093 Summary: You never thought you’d see Hoseok again, much less find yourself spending Valentine’s together just like you used to; with a box of chocolates and endless, sinful possibilities. ⚠️ It’s like 30% angst and 70% smut. Semi-hate sex. Established safeword and consent conversation. Restraints, dom/sub, flogging/spanking, sex toys, fingering, blowjob, blindfold/sensory deprivation, dirty talk, vaginal sex. Please check the beginning of each chapter for specific warnings.
▻ Play With Fire ↳ Pairing: x f.Reader ┉ AU/Trope(s): Crime/Arsonist AU ⤜ Genre(s): Infatuated Lovers | angst, smut, gritty fluff ⤜ Rating: MA Chapters: [2/2] WC: 8,168 Summary: Like a moth to the flame, you were drawn in from the moment you laid eyes on Jung Hoseok. Clouds of smoke and ash billowed around him, dark smudges on his cheeks and a wild, manic grin on his face. You had just finished emptying out the safe in the back office when some psycho threw a molotov through the front window of the convenience store. As you scrambled through the window you used to enter, you made the snap decision to run after the pyro. Little did you know you’d catch fire in an instant and burn hotter than hell. But, you’re not the only thing burning. When a job goes sideways, you both vow to make the world burn…starting with the asshole that’s betrayed you. He wants to play with fire; so you’ll see to it that he burns. ⚠️ Semi-public blowjob, mild spit kink, theft, dark thoughts revolving around arson and petty crimes, Yoongi is a crime kingpin that you and Hoseok work for, talk of murder, outdoor sex, sub/dom tones, manhandling, fire play, creampie, orgasm denial/edging, praise, restraints, fingering, guns/someone gets shot, blood, it’s all a little dark. Please check the beginning of each chapter for specific warnings.
▻ The Stars In His Eyes…The Hate In Your Heart ↳ Pairing: x f.Reader ┉ AU/Trope(s): Non-Idol, Enemies to Lovers, Brother's Best Friend ⤜ Genre(s): angst, smut, fluff ⤜ Rating: MA Chapters: [2/2] WC: 18,085 Summary: Jung Hoseok: a devil dressed in a lilac suit with stars in his eyes. He’s not a real devil, no. Just a demon of your own thinking; with a lithe body and a penchant for getting on your last nerve. Namjoon, your twin and Hoseok’s best friend, is getting married. That draws you irrevocably into Hoseok’s gravitational pull—adding to the hate in your heart—as you’re forced to share the honor of standing by Namjoon’s side with him. It’s a month-long battle of wills. You against Hoseok. Will you snuff out the stars in his eyes, or will another emotion infiltrate your hate-filled heart? ⚠️ Crass language, hurt feelings, BIG misunderstandings, mild childhood misogyny, childhood abuse-descriptions of welts made by a belt, shared trauma, mentions of alcoholism/drinking leading to the arrest of a parent, kissing, safe word/consent, mild dom!Reader sub!Hoseok, clit grinding/cock rubbing, penetration denial, nipple tweaking, biting, unprotected v. sex, cum eating/worship, oral f. receiving Please check the beginning of each chapter for specific warnings.
WIPS: BOUNCE - dance battle, enemies to lovers
◅ Back to MAIN Masterlist
Check out my other Masterlists: OT7 x Reader/OT7 Kim Namjoon Kim Seokjin Min Yoongi Jung Hoseok Park Jimin Kim Taehyung Jeon Jungkook Multi-Member x Reader/OC Member x Member
©️ 2021-23 ColorMePurplex2
4 notes
·
View notes