#and wet killian

[thepunkmuppet]

shoutout to hook for crushing on emma and both of her parents. kind of a boss bitch move tbh

[forcuriousguys]

Killian Belliard

[captainfloorouat]

[inastarlesssky]

Two things I've come to realize about myself:

Almost all of my comfort characters are characters who have never had an ounce of comfort in all their non-existent lives.

I just really seem to like guys with black hair and blue eyes. If I had a quarter for every blorbo I like with those, I'd have 75 cents. It's not much, but it's a coincidence, I think, no?

[incandescentia]

azumano is going to see this someday with dark flying with killian

Holy shit, that’s actually pretty cool.

“Are you making me a Pegasus this time…?”

[princessanonymous]

When Night Comes

Platonic Yandere Vampire

Previous Part | Next Part

First Chapter

22. 𝓑𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓭 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓒𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓪𝓷𝓽

Dorian's velvety croon filled the room as the girl's eyes fluttered open, a testament to the success of his work. With grace, Dorian ran his fingers through her hair, an almost paternal gesture with an undercurrent of possessiveness. She appeared disoriented yet curiously aware of everything surrounding her. 

In a ritualistic display, Dorian's sharp fangs pierced his own forearm, crimson droplets welling up and rolling down his arm. The scent, intoxicating and thick, traveled through the room, luring the fledgling. The girl, smart child that she was, picked up on the scent in no time. A swift realization flashed across her eyes, and she keenly picked up on the aroma.

The offered forearm hovered near her mouth, and Dorian's honeyed voice encouraged her, "Drink." The fledgling, displaying an instinctive hunger, moved to partake almost savagely, but Dorian intervened with a gentle touch. He held her jaw delicately, his fingers grazing her cold skin. "Use your fangs, doll. Show me your little fangs."

The girl, her newly formed canines revealed, elicited a proud smile from Dorian. With approval granted, she sank her fangs into his flesh. She drank with a fervor, as if trying to quench a centuries-long thirst in mere moments. The room resonated with the sound of her eager feeding.

Eventually, Dorian, the indulgent sire, halted her actions. "That is enough," he whispered, and she whimpered, a primitive plea for more escaping her lips. With a reassuring shake of his head, he spoke softly, "I know, I know, you're thirsty. You shall have more later." 

As much as she wanted. He was her sire, her creator, and her provider. He would ensure she lacked nothing. He wouldn’t leave her and, in return, she would stay by his side. He was her caretaker. ☾ Gradually (Y/n)'s reason took back control over her instincts. Her memories were hazy, as if a fog were enveloping them, but the panic and fear she had felt before still remained. She recognized the two men in the room. Recognizing the two men present, the sentiments of transformation and of an existence forced upon her hung heavy in the air.

"Killian.. Stay.." Desperation tinged her whimper as she reached out to Killian. She sought solace in the man she knew, yearning for his presence as a shield against the monster who had inflicted this vampiric fate upon her. This man had tried to protect her against the one who turned her. She felt safer with him. 

She observed the man's hesitation, her eyes filled with a profound sense of hope and despair intertwined. His gaze held a tempest of emotions, reflecting the inner conflict he, too, experienced.

Dorian, now the creator of her newfound existence, leaned in, a calming presence amidst the chaos soothing her whimpers with a gentle, almost hypnotic murmur. Safe. "Oh, he won't leave, darling." His words cut through the uncertainty with a promise. "He may have contemplated leaving, but that's in the past now. He shall stay, and he shall stay for you." ☾ She remained oblivious to the sly, dark smile Dorian gave to the other vampire — a subtle pact woven between them, one party more willing than the other.

Reluctantly, Killian approached the girl, a silent turmoil raging within him. Dorian released his hold on her, allowing her to find solace in the arms of his companion. As Killian tenderly stroked her hair, a tide of resentment surged within him. The venom in his voice was palpable as he muttered, words laden with scorn, "You are truly deplorable."

The words danced in the air for an instant, carrying with them years of resentment. The surroundings whispered tales of lives lived, choices made, and the eternal struggle between what once had been and what remained now.

Dorian smiled faintly. His eyes were wet and he leaned on his shoulder. “I know,” he whispered, his words feeling heavy in the room. “Anything for my family. My coven.”

The blond’s arms locked around Killian and he could feel the other’s tremors. "I love you so much,” he muttered, almost inaudibly, "I love the both of you so much." He repeated the statement like an endless mantra. 

Killian remained quiet, with the youngling resting on his chest and the other vampire leaning on his shoulders.

A part of him realized they could all leave. Windows were open; doors were unlocked. Walking out was easy. Just as it had always been.

"We have a daughter, Killian," he continued on. Killian suddenly felt a wetness on his shoulder. "You wouldn't leave her behind, would you? Please… She needs me, and — and I need the both of you."

He drew in a shuddering breath, the blond’s voice, his words, his touch… All of that was so suffocating. He felt caged. Not physically, no; his prison was of another kind. He would have liked to say Fate had intricately woven and meticulously pulled the threads of their lives until they were inevitably entwined. That description would have sounded poetic, or perhaps even romantic in a twisted way. Yet, even that was false, wasn’t it? Tthe truth was often less fanciful.

They were trapped.

Trapped in a tragedy of their own making.

[trx34ksh]

Taz GN spoilers!!!

Ok guys I gotta share some of my fav panels from the last couple chapters of the book. I just finished it and I sooobbbeddd :,)

I LOVE BARRY!!! I love his sopping wet cat personality in this bc it’s SUCH a difference from when we first meet him. No wonder Lup loves him so much….

Carey and Killian!!!! The girls ever!!!! They r so sweet together and the trio of them and N03113 is EPIC!!!

NAKED MAGNUS WAS HILARIOUS !!! And the design for the flaming raging poisoning sword of doom is sick as hell <3

UGGGHHHHH…. TAAKO….. ow my heart I love this scene so much :,(

This GN is a 10/10 <3

[theodoresgirl]

PLEASE write more cheshire!fem!reader x Killian Jones 🙏🏻

i loved it sm. i’m actually quacking. (i was the one who requested it!!)

Maybe this time, he meets her again and there’s like a strong tension between them and reader is saying strange things and he just wants her to stop so he kisses her!!🤭🤭

and if your comfortable with it, the kiss leads to smut? if not, then fluff is great too!!

Just shut up - Killian Jones x Cheshire Cat!Reader

Killian Jones x Fem!Reader a/n: im sorry it took over a month and that its not good. Im sorry TnT

Part 1

Y/n had found a portal back in Wonderland and got curious, The portal transferred her from Wonderland to Storybrooke. Though not the way she would’ve guessed.

She screams as she falls from the sky, She luckily lands in the lake next to the docks. She shoots up out of the water screeching, She looks around paddling towards the docks. “So cold, so cold” She repeated as she grabbed the edge of the dock and pulled herself up. It was freezing, It was the middle of winter, and It was probably -20 degrees in that water. She groans and stands up ringing out her clothes' excess fabric out. “Water. It had to be water. I hate water.” She mumbles and starts to curse under her breath, shivering. 

“I hope you don’t mean that. It’s better when it's on a boat, and not 5 degrees outside..” Y/n looked up hearing a familiar voice from one of the boats docked. Killian stepped off his boat walking over to her with a towel. “Cats don’t like water, Captain.. Sorry to break the news to you.” She shivered looking at the towel and at Killian. “Such a shame.” He shrugs and unfolds the towel. “Where did you come from then, love?” 

“I feel through the sky.. And landed in a body of water. ” She looked at Killian still shivering. He wrapped the towel around her and rubbed her arms with his hand and hook. “This’ll dry you off some..” She rubs her upper arms trying to get warm. “Okay, come on. Let's get you new clothes and a warm shower.” Killian grabs her by her belt using his hook and walks towards his ship. 

She blinks following along not wanting to be cold anymore. “So Cap, This is where you live?” She asked, grinning trying to think of a pun to make. “Not at the moment. I’ve been staying in a room above a diner, The cold isn’t pleasant to sleep in.” Killian unhooks y/n and steps onto the Jolly Roger to grab a bag, He steps off the ship before placing the arm with his hook behind y/n and gilding her to town. “Is that where we are going then?” “Yeah, It's got warm water, and you’ll be able to get a room for as long as you need it, Granny is a sucker for helping new people.” 

Killian and Y/n walked into town, Y/n was as cold and frozen as an ice cube. They headed up to his room to clean y/n up before going to eat and get a room. Killian opened his door and y/n walked in going straight for the shower. Killian tossed his bag onto a table and went to the dresser. He starts to rummage through the drawers looking for some clothes y/n could wear temporarily til he could get one of the girls to take her shopping. 

Killian took out a black Poets shirt and some sort of comfy pants he’d never worn. He walked over to the couch in the room he’d paid for and laid out the clothes for her. He could hear the shower turn on, He walked over to his bed and laid down to wait for y/n to take a shower. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, He began to let his mind wander through scenarios of what would happen once she got out. His heart started to race as he pictured her in his clothes.

He didn’t hear her turn the water off and walk out of the bathroom. “Are these mine cap?” Y/n spoke, picking up the shirt. Killian sits up looking at Y/n in just a towel. Her hair was stuck to her wet skin, skin shimmering against the light. He nodded, not saying anything, What was he gonna say? You look amazing with your hair sticking to your back. That sounds crazy.

Y/n looks over at Killian, “Stuck in your imagination?” Killian shakes his head snapping back, “Not at all. Yes, those are yours.” Killian gets up and runs his hand through his hair. Y/n slips the shirt on as she drops the towel. “Imagination is the only weapon in the war with reality.” Y/n looks over at Killian who is facing the wall, His heart is racing. “Hmm?-” He turns around to look at y/n. Y/n holds the pants in her hands and grins talking in riddles. Killians' eyes twitch a bit, “Just put the pants on so we can go eat.” He walks past her into the bathroom to splash his face with water. Y/n slips the pants on and ties it so they stay up. Killian walks out of the bathroom, and heads to the door. Y/n followed behind him continuing talking in riddles or rhymes.

Killian takes Y/n to Granny's diner to order food to go. Then grabbing a room key for Y/n. They headed back to Killian's room to eat.

Killian opens the door to his room and Y/n rushes inside and over to the couch. “Giveeee! It smells delicioussss.” Y/n licks her lips looking at the bag that holds the food. Killian shuts the door and walks over to the couch and table, He puts down on the couch setting the bag on the table. Y/n grabs the bag and takes their food out while Killian takes his boots off. 

Y/n started to eat, Finally keeping her mouth shut. Killian grabs his food and leans back to eat. It was quiet while they ate. Killian ordered a burger with ketchup, Pickles, lettuce, and cheese. Y/n ordered chicken strips with fries and ranch.

Killian finishes his burger and gets up walks to the window and opens it a bit. “A little hot there captain?” She smirks. He looks over at her, Not saying anything, he knows he can’t lie to her, and He can’t admit she was right. “Captain?” She raised an eyebrow still smirking. “Captainnn~” She kept taunting him by repeating his name. 

“Something isn't working up there love'' Killian rubbed his temples, Y/n climbed over the couch and walked closer to him, “If you haven’t noticed I’m not all there, Captain~” She tapped her head loving how irritated he seemed. Killian glared at her before filling the leftover space between them and kissing her. She hesitates for a second before throwing her arms around his neck and kissing back. He puts his hand on her waist and his hook brushes the skin on her collarbone, The cold metal meeting her warm skin. She shivered at the touch.

He breaks the kiss and pulls back licking his lips. Grining, She pulls back “So i’m guessing you were in your imagination earlier.” Killian kisses her again before answering her with a nod. “You have no idea love.” “Why not show me.” She kisses him, deeper this time. 

She moves her hands to his chest and pushes him towards the bed. He backs up towards the bed and sits down still kissing y/n. Her arms return to hanging around his neck. She stands between his legs pressing against him. He pulls down the oversized pants she had on, She steps out of the pants and kicks them away. She unbuttons his jeans and belt, He stands up picking her up and putting her on the bed before pulling his jeans and boxers down.

He breaks the kiss and starts kissing her neck, as she moves her hands to the bottom of his shirt and pulls it off him. “Want me to stop-” before he could finish his sentence she cut him off. “Killian just shut up.”

Killian strokes himself before lining  himself up with her entrance, “You're the one who rhymes.” She rolled her eyes opening her mouth to say something but let out a gasp as he pushed in. He kisses her deeply, holding still for a minute while she adjusts. 

He starts to thrust continuing to kiss her, Both running short of air. They break the kiss both catching their breaths. He holds his hand on her waist and plays with her hair using his hook. She smirks, blushing, Her heart was racing. He continues thrusting, She places her hands on his shoulders gripping tightly. 

She moans, leaning her head back arching her back. He puts his hook on her waist. "Love, you are absolutely breathtaking." Killian complimented her. She grins before moaning. She raised an arm to grab her hair and hold it above her head. Killian and her continued for awhile until they both hit climax. 

“K-Killian” She gasps arching her back cumming, 

         Killian moans, He keeps thrusting before pulling out and releasing on her lower stomach. He plops down next to her, Both of them were panting heavily. “I like it when you say my name.” He smiles.

[hirsheyskisses]

It Takes Two. (Prologue)

A Shocking Meet

RORONOA ZORO X READER

Prev. | Next.

Pirates.

They rule the seas, they claim the lands. The elders speak of ruthless men who take what does not belong, of women so cunning and sly they'd take all of your worth right from under your nose.

The mothers spoke of the Captains, who'd hang children and throw them to the seas, who'd slaughter your siblings and take it all away.

The children played games of Marine and Pirate, further settling the idea of what a pirate was.

Scum of the earth, scum of the sea. Some were even rejected by the sea: they'd eaten these magical fruits known as the Devil fruits. 'They have the eyes of monsters.. they have the power of the devil himself. Once you've eaten a devil fruit, there is no sea that will accept you.

So why? Why had you never seen one? Sure, it was unlikely they'd ever find this place, as even a Logue Pose could never lock onto it: this small mass of land was barely more than a hunk of beautiful rock. But surely, there'd be tales of pirates somewhere?

"So this is where you ran off to!"

Your head turned just a bit, smiling at the sight of him. A tall, snow white haired boy stood behind you with a smirk resting on his features.

"Shouldn't have been that hard to find me," you shot back, standing and moving away from the cliffs edge. The sound of the water crashing against the rocks was lulling: you and Killian both knew it.

"So sue me! You switch where you act all deep and wise every other day-"

Killian bumped his shoulder against yours. You raised your hands in defense, grinning. Your thoughts lay forgotten, "act? You forget, I aced the flying tests long before you did!"

"Flying has nothing to do with brains, Featherhead!"

"Oh really? I dare you to recite from memory the proper movements for a barrel twist."

Contrary to popular belief, there were many different forms of a barrel. Sure, the roll itself would always be a tuck and turn, but a twist was erratic. You had to know where and when to pull out and back into it, how fast to do it and how to launch an attack. It was, after all, an offensive maneuver.

"I'll take your silence as an answer, Kill."

"What difference does it make if I can't describe it? I can still do it!"

He glowered, and you couldn't resist a chuckle. "Because we'll have to teach the kids one day. Duh."

"Whatever. I'd make a way better teacher!"

"I'll leave you in the dust!"

"...the usual?"

Your banter quickly turned into the usual: a race. You'd known Killian for as long as you could remember. Both of you being born to a race of halfbreeds - taking on the features of a feathery, winged, tailed beast. There were a few of them on the island: the elders called you Viserons. Long ago, they were known for their speed, being the fastest amongst the dragons. Somewhere along the lines, a devil fruit had come into the picture - Elder Kisu had called it the human human fruit, and thus came fourth the humanoid Viserons.

"Let's go!"

3.. 2.. 1!

Wings flared into the air and a quick snap, both of you dove off the island peak. The wind whipped through your hair as you dove straight for the ocean water, snapping them open the second before you hit it and, with powerful thrusts, came height.

"A second later and you'd be a wet bird!"

Killian came to your side. His wings tips came to touch yours. They were such a beautiful snow white. Your tail curled inwards,

"We'll see who's a wet bird!"

The tufts of feathers in your hair pricked forward, and you continued to gain altitude, Killian hot on your heels. "Going higher won't help you, slowpoke!"

"Oh yeah? Remember that barrel twist?"

The clouds weren't even close to the limit. Breaking the cloud barrier in a puff of white wisp, and then you let your body fall.

Any mind to Killian was lost: falling, falling, falling. It was such a freeing feeling. Tucking your wings in you fell faster. The calculated wing beats not far above you told you Killian was gaining, but that wasn't important, now was it? The wind whipped through your hair, chilled your skin in such a delightful manner: now! Wings snapping open, you caught yourself, right wing extended slightly farther to ensure the real twist. A grin spread upon your features as your body began to even out with the horizon, your other wing snapping out to catch yourself.

"I'm not done yet!"

In a flash of black and white, Killian whizzed past you. A hand was on his hat to ensure it didn't go flying, and the chase was on.

You weren't sure how much time had passed. Could've been hours, could've been mere less than. Usually, the two of you would've turned back by now, but the wind had felt so good to chase away the lingering thought of what truly is a pirate? Your birth island, Shigan, was nowhere in sight. Which was fine- being a Viseron had more perks than just wings - your bodies were drawn to masses of land, and while judging of distance may not always be accurate, the strongest gut feeling was usually the closest island.

Nothing but endless blue water and cloudy gray skies was in your sight.

That was when you realized: where's Killian?

Slowing to a stop, you came to realize: he was nowhere in sight.

"Kill?"

You called out. Now that you'd stopped, you realized one thing. The gray clouds were no longer gray. They were a horrifying dark black. Each powerful pump of your wings was getting met with resistance by the growing wind, the air carrying the scent of rain and the tingle of possible lightning.

"KILLIAN!"

You shouted, head craning as you began to lose altitude. Had he turned back? Had one of you flown so far and lost sight of the other?

No time to worry about that. If Killian was ahead of you, he'd already be in the head of it. If he was behind you, he'd have long seen this so sudden storm.

"Crap.. I can't feel.. any land nearby." You cursed, the wind pushing you off balance. Head for the eye of the storm.

"Got no choice! You've got this!"

As you dove, your body was quickly growing soaked. Thunder roared in your ears, lightning flashed before your eyes.

Dive, twist, rise, dodge. Don't fight the wind, flow with it. Don't become a bigger target than necessary.

Dive away from the strikes of lightning, twist with the wind, rise from the giant waves. There wasn't a moment of peace as you fought against the roaring storm: one wrong move, and you'd be in the sea. It was bad enough trying to fly, with your feathers slowly but surely soaking through.

There was no end to the storm. Your clothes has long since been Soaked through, you couldn't see through the endless torrent of falling water, and to make matters worse, your skin began to tingle.

Well, shit.

You didn't even have time to truly feel the dread before a blinding flash of light sent you tumbling towards the unwelcoming sea.

"She's got wings! How cool!"

"Look at the tail, it's so long."

"She's drenched is what she is."

"I wanna touch her wingsss!"

"Back off, Luffy!"

"Give me some space, please! She's probably suffering from hypothermia.. need to see if there's any other injuries.. sanji! Can you go get some extra blankets? We need to warm her up."

"On it! Oh what a beauty she is.."

I can't recognize those voices. God, am I even awake? I can't feel my body right now.. what happened? I need to.. open my eyes..

It didn't take long for the true unconsciousness to take you once more.

. . .

"Gah.. my head.."

You groaned, hoisting yourself out of bed and rubbing the back of your neck. Shitty didn't even begin to describe how you felt: what happened? Why did it smell so weird in your room, more importantly?

"So you're awake. 'Bout time."

Turning your head, you were met with the intense gaze of a green haired man.

..green hair. Not white hair.

"...WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!"

It wasn't a face you recognized. In a split second you'd grabbed the pillow and threw it at the strange man's face, wings snapping open as you launched yourself at him.

"woah- HEY RELAX-"

A strong hand grabbed your arm and shoved you against the wall, and you winced in pain, but not hindering your knee to his groin.

Heh.

The man's eye twitched and you could almost see him questioning his very existence, though his grip never wavered. That was fine, you decided, as you clenched your teeth , fangs glinting,

"I'd suggest letting go. I bite."

"Why you little shit-"

"Zoro! Are you manhandling the patient?"

This time, a feminine voice spoke. The man released your wrist and backed away quickly: grumbling something about she attacked first before retreating back to his seat.

"I dunno where I am, but don't think I'll go easy on you! Where's Killian?!"

Your voice was rough, and the female came into view: a rather beautiful young woman with bright orange hair.

"Relax! We're not holding you hostage- we found you drifting on some planks during the storm. You're lucky, aren't you?"

Storm? Right. I remember that..

Your eyes narrowed and you sidestepped to keep both newcomers in your vision, feeling rather trapped. Getting a closer look at the room you were in, it was easy to recognize it as an infirmary. Nursing sheets, medicines, bandages- oh, hey, there's bandages on my head. Didn't even notice until now.

"...I mightve gotten struck be lightning. Or been too close to the strike."

You replied slowly, tail curling around your leg. "That doesn't explain to me who you are, where I am, or why you saved me."

"Of course, where are my manners? I'm Nami, and the brute over there is Zoro. He might be a little scary looking, but he's really just a big idiot."

"Brute? She's the only brute! She kicked me in my nuts!"

You watched Nami inhale a breath, cast a glance at you, and offer the most amused smirk she could. For what its worth, now that you were awake, you felt a little bad. But apologies would have to wait until after you figured out their intentions.

"Of course she did! Waking up to the sight of a strange man can do that. Anyways. You're on our pirate ship, the Going Merry and-"

"..PIRATE SHIP?! YOU'RE PIRATES?!"

You intervened, instantly backing yourself into the wall. Your wings flared open instinctively, feathers Puffing up as you reached for the nearest thing you could throw at them. Currently, said object was a spoon.

"Woah, hey! We're not brutes - well, Zoro is one of the exceptions but- you can calm down. If we were gonna hurt you, wouldn't we have done it already?"

You were completely aware of how fast Zoro had stood and moved closer, and you eyed him warily. She has a point, though.. and you got a strange feeling that if he really viewed you as a threat, you wouldn't have gotten away.

"Hey! What's the commotion abou- GUYS SHES AWAKE!"

This time you were met with a man with a long nose, the door having been thrown open. In an instant, a man with a straw hat and a-

A tiny deer?

"She's awake! She woke up even sooner than you said she would, Chopper!"

The straw hat person practically bounced over to you, and you withdrew quickly.

"HI there! Your wings are so cool! Can I touch them?!"

You pressed yourself further against the wall, wings tucking in protectively. "Touch them, and you're a goner." You threatened, feeling the swordsman- Zoro, Nami said his name was, move closer. You shrank away from him.

"Awhh! No fun!"

"My most humble apologies," you growled, voice dripping with sarcasm, "but I dont trust pirates."

"I guess it makes sense.. you're welcome to leave whenever you like, but atleast let Chopper finish his check-up." Nami stated, offering you a big smile. Your feathers tufts pinned to the side, and your gaze was once again brought down to the little deer.

"If you could.. please sit back down. I'd like to check your vitals!"

Oh my God it's A TALKING DEER- HES SO CUTE-

You couldn't help it. Kneeling down you put a hand on his head, smiling. "You're so cute! You're the doctor?!"

Chopper, as he's been called, flushed. And then started doing.. a weird dance?

"I'm not cute you big dummy! That doesn't make me happy at all~" He was clearly smiling though, and you laughed, shaking your head as you moved to sit on the bed, ensuring you kept everyone within your visual range.

"I'm Monkey D. Luffy! The Captain! What's your name?!"

Of course the energetic one is the Captain, you thought, feeling a little weird. Chopper moved closer and began touching and prodding at you, occasionally asking you to stretch a limb or breathe.

"(Name). I'm (Name) from Aero Mountain." You replied, and Luffy, his name was, grinned. "Nice to meet you!"

"...likewise. I think."

"Still though.. why were you out flying during a storm?"

Right.

"I didn't intentionally do it. I was racing my friend and I got caught up in it.. i hope Killian is alright.

"You wouldn't have happened to see him, would you?"

You added hopefully. Nami shook her head sadly, "sorry, (Name). We haven't seen anyone else, in the skies or otherwise. We'll let you know if we do." Your head drooped a bit, but then remembered -

"Hey. Uhm.. Zoro?"

The swordsman angled his head towards you, an eyebrow raised.

"....sorry for kneeing you in the balls. You guys seem.. alright. I guess."

"Tch. Yeah, it was a good reaction. I guess from your point of view it was pretty scary."

Something told you he really only said that because Nami was glaring daggers at him: you also got the feeling she could keep them in line.

"...you guys don't really fit the picture of pirates I've always been told about."

You stated, glancing at the adorable Chopper. You'd always thought if you ever encountered pirates, you'd be met with terror, with large men carrying battle axes and women who'd tear off your head. These guys..

They just felt nice.

They all chuckled at your remark and Nami replied, "these guys really aren't that bad. Rowdy, sure, but bad guys? No. Surely you've met a decent pirate before?"

"Haven't met any, actually. According to the elders, pirates haven't reached our island in almost a century."

"Really? Surely they'd have reached it by now?"

"That's what I thought, too. But Logue poses aren't strong enough to attach onto our island. In fact, the only way to reach it is with a Viseron."

"A Viseron? What's that?"

Luffy perked up and you raised your wings, "I'm a Viseron."

"..that doesn't really answer the question. Besides, having wings and a tail."

Zoro eyed you and, yet again, you shrank a bit under his gaze. Even so, you could see the slightest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

"Well.. hundreds of years ago, Viserons were dragons. The fastest amongst them, if you will. Elder Kisu said a devil fruit came into the picture, and we eventually became more human than dragon, retaining only certain features." You lifted your wings to prove a point, unraveled your tail, and allowed your feathery tufts on your head to prick back up.

"As far as anyone is aware, the original Dragons went extinct a couple centuries ago. I get the feeling most dragons did."

"Ooooh! So cool! Do you have any special powers?!" Luffy asked, and, with no given warning, his neck stretched. Stretched around your body to look at your wings.

"WH- save that, what are you?!"

"Immm a rubber man!"

"....you get used to it." Zoro stated, and Nami pitched in, "that's everybody's reaction. Including ours."

"Rightttt..."

"..anyways. I can fly pretty fast, I can.. sense- islands? Or rather, masses of land. I'm a Logue Pose that isn't always reliable." You shrugged, "and my feathers are sharp. Don't touch-" you smacked Luffy's hand away.

Chopper finally stopped poking and prodding st you, he'd changed your bandages and took a step back.

"All done! You should Probably take it easy for a bit, the muscles around your wings are pretty strained." Chopper replied, "I don't think you gotta tell me that. ..by the way, how long was I out for?"

"A week."

Zoro stared at you as your jaw gaped a bit, but you quickly righted your expression. "Ah.. Great." I was on a pirate ship for a week. But I guess if they were gonna do something, it would've been done by now..

You stood and bowed, "thank you for taking care of me." You righted your posture as Nami batted a hand, "don't worry about it! I'm glad you're okay." "Yeah! ...so can you carry people while you fly?!"

Luffy asked that. You stared at him and shrugged. "To some extent. I can gain the same altitude or speed, nor would I be able to pull off any offensive or defensive maneuvers. ...but yes, by all technical terms, I can."

"Ohh cool! Take me flying then!"

Luffy practically attached himself to you, and without missing a beat you backed yourself into a wall, though without much force, and crossed your arms.

"I don't give free rides."

"Awhhh! No fun."

Luffy untangled himself from you and backed away, and you shook your head.

"Listen.. if there's anything I can do to repay you, please let me know. Otherwise, I don't want to overstay my welcome."

"Oh please, you're fine! You can always pay us back in berry!" Nami grinned, and you couldn't resist a chuckle.

"Besides, how do you plan on leaving? Chopper said you shouldn't be flying." Zoro questioned, a hand resting on his sword. What was a relaxed posture to him was a rather threatening looking one to you.

"Shouldn't doesn't mean couldn’t." You shot back, feathers puffing indignantly. "You're almost as bad as Zoro with bed rest!" Luffy laughed, and Nami bonked him over the head, "like you're any better!"

"Anyways.. please, you're more than welcome to stay with us. We could even bring you back to your home island!"

Nami glanced at Luffy, who instantly nodded his head in agreement.

"If it's all the same, I'll stay, but I won't be guiding you back to my island. The Elders would exile me for such a dangerous feat, nor do I wish to endanger those I care for. If we settle on the next island, i can fly back to mine for payment. It'll have to be a matter of you trusting me." You explained, part of to you hoped they wouldn't take that personally. The thing is, you just couldn't risk it. You didn't even know if they were actually good people yet, either.

"Thats fair." Chopper piped in, and the other three nodded. "Now cmon! Sanji should be getting done with dinner. You should join us!"

You didn't get much of a choice in the matter, with Zoro herding you out the door and Luffy chanting, meat, meat, meat! All the way to the dining hall.

. . .

It was approaching the middle of the night. Stars lit up the darkened sky, and the sea glistened gently under their shine. Leaning over the Going Merry's railing, you thought on the chaotic events during the day.

During dinner, you'd met Sanji, a .. rather eccentric cook, putting it plainly, and Usopp, the long nose one who'd ran off to inform the others you were awake. He was interesting, and so far, he'd yet to run out of stories to tell you of. Luffy and chopper had been chaotic during dinner, to say the least, and Nami spent quite a bit of her time wrestling them into control, and then laughing along side you. Zoro seemed to spend more time drinking than actually eating, and multiple times he'd gotten into some form of argument with Sanji.

"What a weird bunch.."

"I heard that."

You almost jolted out of your skin at the sound of his voice, coughing as you spun around to be met face-to-face with the crews swordsman.

"GAH! Some noise next time, would ya?!" You placed a hand over your chest, half being dramatic, and half recovering from the fact he almost made you fall over the railing. Zoro snickered, joining you against the railing.

"Pay more attention then, Feathers." Ah, yes. The nickname Luffy had dubbed you over dinner. He seemed to switch between using your actual name and the nickname, which, according to Nami, means he likes you. Not sure what good that knowledge does me, but whatever.

"Oh gimma a break! Traumatic event and all."

He scoffed and looked at the sky, "...any sign of your friend? I'm assuming you're still looking for them."

You nodded your head, feeling a sense of guilt. "Yeah.. I'm hoping I had flown ahead of him and he saw the storm before I did. If he didnt.. well.."

Zoro seemed to understand what you left unsaid, and cast you a swift glance.

"If your friend is anything like you, I'm sure he's fine." He grunted at last, shaking his head. "I don't think anybody can just get struck by lightning-" "don't think I was struck, I was probably just too close-" you intervened, "-yeah yeah. My point is, not everybody just gets struck, and gets saved by driftwood. I bet your friend found some, too, or he didn't get struck at all."

"I hope so."

A silence fell between the two of you, and you leaned farther over the railing, staring down at the water. To some extent, you could see the fish swimming just out of reach, and a smile graced your face as you reached a hand out.

At the same instant, you felt a hand on your back, gently gripping at your shirt.

"Careful now, or you're gonna end up a wet bird."

Huh.. how funny. That's one of the last things Killian told me.

You broke into a fit of giggles, leaning back up to stare at the swordsman. "Wet bird I may be, but I can still swim better than anyone on the crew, I bet."

"Wanna test that?" Zoro responded with a grin, and just as you readied yourself to respond, a rather panicked voice came from across the ship.

"Guys?! Come quick!"

It was Nami. Both you and Zoro ran to meet Nami, while Sanji, Luffy, and Chopper, came a bit slower, still groggy with sleep.

"What's wrong, Nami-swan?"

"Nami?"

Sanji and Luffy questioned simultaneously, while the rest of you waited in silence.

"The Logue Pose.. it won't lock on to an island."

[lycanlupins]

Scent Headcanons PT. 1 (ft. @darthwheezely ) - X-Men

AN: here’s part 1 of ??? on the X-Men Scentcanons featuring my bestie Phia who helped me pick the fragrances for these guys!! don’t worry, i didn’t forget anyone, im just breaking up the posts so i can have them more easily accessible!

kurt wagner: he smells like incense. like morning mass at a catholic church, smokey but not suffocating. conversely he would smell sweet and inviting, like fresh spun cotton candy and sepia stained memories of circus performances past.

fragrance: myrrh and tonka - jo malone; interlude - amouage

remy lebeau: wet moss. thick, warm, humid. not in a nasty way, just earthy. conversely he would smell like powdered sugar and king cake, maybe a hint of bourbon to wash it all down.

fragrance: by the fireplace - maison margiela; black phantom - killian

scott summers: he smells exactly like his namesake; a summer day. fresh cut grass, clean air, the warmth on your skin and a slight hint of sweat. he smells like the nighttime firework display on a beach with waves crashing in the dark.

fragrance: hero - burberry; sedley - parfum de marly

erik lehnsherr: he smells like rain against a cold, foggy window and a cup of black tea in your lap. like the pages of an old book whose spine has cracked from use and its cover is frayed at the edges.

fragrance: santal 33 - le labo; bibliotheque - byredo

anna-marie lebeau: she smells like spring. crisp honeysuckle and morning dew, waking up to the sun flooding your room with soft morning light and the light breeze through your hair on a mid-day picnic.

fragrance: nectarine blossom and honey - jo malone; sundazed - byredo

[hollyethecurious]

CS AU: Pan Says... (10/13)

Summary: After waking up in a strange room with a naked stranger, Emma and Killian must endure the twisted game their kidnapper insists they play in order to gain provisions and avoid punishments.

A/N: You read that right! I have a final chapter count! We are nearing the end, and I can't thank y'all enough! I hope you enjoy these concluding chapters (they'll be updating on Mondays and Thursdays) and don't yell at me too much. (Actually, go ahead. I kinda like it 😘)

Much love to my @kmomof4 and @ultraluckycatnd for being amazing cheerleaders and betas! Love you, ladies!

Rated E / Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!  

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six  / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine

Part Ten

“What sort of game is he playing at now, do you think?” Killian murmured as he and Emma made their way to the showers.

“Who the hell knows,” Emma groused. “I’ve given up trying to understand him or even attempt to stay ahead of his demented games.”

“Aye.” Killian sighed and gestured Emma towards the working showerhead, allowing her to go first.

“Not that I’m not relieved that our fears seem to have been… premature,” she said, stepping into the spray and wetting her long tresses.

Killian swallowed past the bolt of lust that always manifested when he saw her like this and added, “It is hard to enjoy the current peace and quiet, knowing there is likely a sword of Damocles hanging over us, though.”

Emma swiped the cascades of water from her face and gave him the look she usually employed whenever his “nerd side” came out, complete with an eye roll and stifled grin.

They spent the next few minutes in silence while Emma lathered, conditioned, shaved, and rinsed. In an effort to keep his libido in check, Killian let his mind wander over the past two plus weeks since he and Emma entertained Pan’s guests.

They’d gone to sleep that night with the worry of what Pan might have in store for them next and Killian’s dreams had been nightmarish reflections of those fears. None of which had come to fruition these past weeks. In fact, Pan had demanded very little of them at all, leaving them to their own devices much of the time whilst lavishing them with unearned gifts.

It was downright unsettling.

Killian’s eyes drifted down to his Swan’s lower abdomen and his jaw tightened from the equally unsettling knowledge that their recent activities may have already begun to bear their natural consequences, yet there was no way for him to know for certain. He knew she had not yet had a period, but he did not know whether that was unusual after the removal of an IUD. Of course, Emma was completely unaware that she was no longer protected from an unwanted pregnancy, therefore a lack of period was of no concern for her. He wondered, should they be fortunate enough to dodge the bullet of conception, what her reaction would be if and when her period did occur. Would Pan expect him to continue the charade of not knowing?

The continued deceit and knowledge that every aspect of their lovemaking wasn't completely consensual caused Killian’s stomach to tighten and churn painfully with guilt. He hated keeping it from her, but what other choice did he have?

“Your turn,” Emma said, pulling him from his tormented thoughts. His eyes snapped up and met the concern expressing itself through her furrowed brow and curious expression. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, love,” he replied, waving off her scrutiny with a quipped bit of sass that wasn’t entirely untrue. “Just a bit vexed by our esteemed host.”

Emma hummed her understanding and agreement, rubbing her hand down his arm affectionately as they traded places.

Once back in their now very cramped room, given the number of ‘luxuries’ Pan had provided them in the wake of their exhibition, they went through their normal, post-shower routines before settling back on their bed.

“Do you think he’d let us visit the terrace again without having to complete a ‘Pan Says’?” Emma inquired softly, tucking her legs beneath her in an attempt to get comfortable. “Like he did with the shower?”

Killian pondered her question. He knew they had both been surprised at the lack of quid pro quo when they’d finally broken down and begged Pan for an opportunity to shower. After all, it had been over two weeks since they’d been given leave to go and have a proper wash-up, and there was only so much a rinsed and reused washcloth, a small sink, and a vanishing bar of soap could do at this point. Killian had braced himself for the expected, unpleasant demand of a Pan Says in response to his and Emma’s request, but when Pan had simply agreed and opened the cell door with a reminder to not stray off the blue line, they’d both found themselves unnerved. Begrudgingly grateful, but mostly unnerved.

“Might be best to not push our luck,” Killian replied.

Emma’s shoulder sagged in disappointment, but the action was followed with a relenting nod of concession that he was probably right. He hated to dishearten her, especially when he’d love nothing more than to go out and breathe fresh air whilst basking in some sunshine. However, until Pan showed his cards and revealed what this new round of the game would entail, he didn’t want them lured into a false sense of security or led into a trap of their own making.

“So,” Emma said, changing the subject. “What will it be? Reading? A movie? Board game? What do you wanna do today?”

Choosing an activity - from the myriad of options their host had provided them over the past fortnight - that might keep them occupied, they spent the rest of the day, and the subsequent days afterward, in relative peace.

Too bad that peace couldn’t last.

“Pan says, you two are going on a field trip.”

Killian balked and noted the way Pan’s unexpected announcement had caught Emma off guard as well.

“A field trip where?” Emma asked warily.

“To another part of the compound,” Pan replied. “There’s something I wish to show you, so…” The cell door screeched open and revealed two Lost Ones standing at the ready. “Pan says, follow the orange line until my Lost Ones indicate you’ve arrived at your destination.”

~/~

Emma was probably going to end up with a crick in her neck from the way she kept craning it to look over her shoulder. The distraction of attempting to ascertain whether these were their original Lost Ones - the ones who seemed to have a connection to her and Killian - had her stumbling over her feet a number of times on the way to their mysterious destination. It was no use, though. Pan had changed their outfits, including their masks. Where before an opening had remained at their mouths and eyes, this new mask covered their faces completely. Emma doubted she’d be able to tell for sure, so she returned her focus to the new areas of the compound the new line led them through.

The orange line had run parallel to the green line, the one that led to the garden terrace, but branched off at the stairwell that led to the upper level. Killian had been silent since they’d left the room and hadn’t glanced her way once since the lines had split off. She knew it was because he was taking in every detail he could and adding the new information to the map in his head. He did finally peer over at her when the Lost Ones ushered them into an elevator, his hand still wrapped firmly around her own as they squeezed in beside the Lost Ones.

“So…” Killian drawled, startling Emma with the way he broke the silence within the elevator. “Are you them? The Lost Ones responsible for us being in this nightmare?”

“Killian,” Emma hissed in admonishment.

His eyes cut down to hers and met her incredulous expression. Why would he ask such a thing now?

“It’s not as though it’s a secret,” he said, turning his attention back to their guards. “Nothing escapes Pan’s attention, so I’m certain he’s well aware of the information one of you gave Emma. So let’s stop pretending we don’t all know you two are the reason Emma and I are here in the first place.”

Neither of them responded, though Emma did notice the guilty shift in one of the Lost One’s stances. Given the raise of his brow, Killian did, too.

Before he could question them again, the elevator lurched to a stop and the doors opened. The first Lost One exited as the second gestured for her and Killian to follow, dropping in behind them both as they continued down the orange lined hallway. They hadn’t gone far when the Lost One stopped and punched in a code into a numbered keypad mounted to the wall. The click of a lock releasing echoed through the hallway and the door swung open, revealing an entryway one might see in a swanky city apartment.

“Come in! Come in!” Pan’s voice crowed excitedly from the speakers in the room beyond. Squeezing her hand, Killian led them through the door and entryway, until they were standing in a naturally lit, warm and inviting living room, lavishly furnished and a sight more welcoming than the cell they’d been inhabiting for the past six weeks.

“What…? Where are we? Who… Who lives here?” Emma stammered, trying to take in not only the spacious living room but the other spaces connected to it as well.

“That will depend entirely on the two of you,” Pan supplied with a familiar note in his tone that alerted them both of an impending Pan Says on the tip of his tongue.

“Let me guess,” Killian snarked in reply before Pan could issue the edict. “Pan says this will be our new home if… we agree to whatever depraved, humiliating, new heights of degradation he has planned for us now?”

Again, Emma stared slack-jawed at Killian. What on earth had gotten into him today?

“Actually,” Pan began, his words carrying a hard edge that was difficult to miss despite the light tone he was attempting to keep. “It’s nothing new. In fact, my request is for you to do a Pan Says you’ve already completed for me once. Rather successfully, as a matter of fact.”

Ripples of dread cascaded down Emma’s spine as she exhaled on a panicked breath, “You want us to do it again. You want us to… entertain them again.”

Killian stiffened at her side, his posture becoming even more menacing than it had in the elevator. “Absolutely not. Separate us if you must, but I’ll not have Emma endure that again!”

“Separate you?” Pan parroted in mocked inquiry. “Why on earth would I separate you?”

“But…” Emma began, a myriad of emotions sweeping through her all at once. “Last time you said if we didn’t, you would--”

“Well, that was before you proved to be such a smashing success with my guests,” Pan told them. “You wouldn’t believe the praise I received for delighting them with such a feast for their debauched tastes… or the amount they’ve offered to pay for a repeat performance.”

“And if we say no?” Killian questioned.

“If you say no, then my guests won’t get a repeat performance… they’ll get an entirely new experience with the two of you.”

“What does that mean?”

Pan paused, allowing the tension and dread to build before explaining, “I’ve never been very good at sharing my toys with others, which is why my monthly exhibitions have always been just that. Exhibitions. Performances. Looky, but no touchy. However…” Another pregnant pause stretched through the room and Emma met Killian’s anxious eyes with panicked ones of her own, both of them now deducing what Pan was about to reveal. “If you will not allow my guests the voyeuristic experience they’ve already paid for, then perhaps I’ll give in to the obscene amount they’ve offered to allow them a more… hands-on role this month.”

“No,” Killian grit out from between his clenched teeth.

“Oh, yes,” Pan oiled in reply. “You can either allow my guests to watch you ravage each other for one night, then have the freedom and luxury of this apartment to dwell in afterward, or I can have you tied down and give my guests what they truly desire. The opportunity to ravage each of you for themselves - in some cases several at a time - for All. Three. Nights. The choice is yours.”

Emma wrapped her arms around her waist and doubled over, a mournful cry catching in the back of her throat as Killian roared next to her, picked up a vase from one of the end tables and chucked it at the wall, shattering it into oblivion.

“Now, now,” Pan tsked over the speakers. “I’ll give you some time to mull it over. We’ve another week before my guests arrive. Pan says to have a look around and talk it over. You can let me know what you decide before my Lost Ones take you back to your quarters.”

Feedback rang through the speakers, but it was nothing in comparison to the ringing in her ears. Reaching up, Emma placed her hands against her hot, flushed face, wet from tears yet also clammy to the touch.

“Swan,” Killian said, somewhere off to her right, his words a mixture of apology and commiseration. His hand ran a soothing caress down her spine, but it did not have the calming effect he intended. Instead, Emma felt her stomach lurch.

“Swan, I’m so--”

“I’m gonna be sick!” Darting through the living room, she just managed to make it to the sink in the kitchen beyond before emptying the contents of her stomach through a series of retches.

“Emma!” Killian cried out in concern, making his way to her in time to hold her hair back for her. She wished he wouldn’t. Wished he didn’t have to see her like this. Wished… so many things, actually.

“I’m sorry, love,” Killian continued to apologize. “I shouldn’t have let my anger get out of control like that. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to make things worse. I--”

“It’s okay,” Emma said, clearing her throat and reaching for a paper towel to wipe her mouth with. “Could you find me a glass?” she asked him. “I need some water.”

“Of course!” He tore open cabinets until he found one with drinking glasses. Handing it over to her, she could feel his scrutiny as she filled it from the tap and took small sips.

“I’m sorry,” she said, taking a turn to apologize for her own lack of ability in keeping it together. “I don’t know why I responded like…” Her words trailed off as something occurred to her. Something that nearly made her heart stop as she instinctively began to reach down towards her abdomen then thought better of it at the last minute, hopefully before Killian noticed.

No. Surely it would be too soon for that if I were…

“You’ve no need to apologize, love,” Killian soothed, though his voice was tight and strained. Glancing up at him, she noted how he only held her gaze for a moment before cutting his eyes away. His Adam’s apple bobbed and the muscle at his jaw flickered. When Emma followed the path of his eyes, she saw the shards of the vase littering the floor.

“You don’t need to beat yourself up either,” she told him. “I don’t think either of us was expecting…”

Killian slammed his hand against the counter, causing her to jump. “That’s just it!” he hollered. “We never expect it! We’re always several steps behind when it comes to his schemes! I’m tired of never knowing what’s next! Of always being on the defensive, never letting our guard down! I thought… I thought we might have the upper hand for once! I thought this might have been our chance to thwart him, but now…”

“What do you mean? Thwart him how?”

Killian ran his hand through his hair and forced himself to take a calming breath. “I thought he might threaten to separate us, like he did the last time. I thought… even though I’d hate being parted from you and having someone else… I thought it would at least mean we could keep one another safe from…”

“I know,” she said, placing a hand on his chest. “I was thinking the same thing.” His eyes snapped to hers and his lips parted in surprise. “As much as I don’t want for us to be separated, I couldn’t help but think how choosing to do so would mess with his plan.”

“Aye,” Killian said on a heavy breath. “Instead, he’s backed us into a corner once again. Leaving us no option but to comply.”

“At least we know what to expect this time,” she said, offering up that small consolation as she looked around the apartment. “And unlike the last one, this prison cell has windows,” gesturing towards a glass door at the back of the kitchen, she quipped, “and a balcony we can throw ourselves off of if it all gets to be too much.”

“Not funny,” Killian clipped even as a smile twitched at his lips. Releasing another heavy sigh, he took her hand. “I suppose we ought to take the full tour,” he groused, nodding towards the big screen tv in the corner of the living room with Pan’s most recent edict scrolling across, “before our jailers come to fetch us.”

~/~

Begrudgingly, Killian had to give it to Pan. The flat was magnificent. Several times he had to remind himself that a gilded cage was still a cage, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t eager to share the space, and the sense of normalcy it might provide, with his Swan.

The kitchen was state-of-the-art and fully stocked with all their favorites. It opened to a balcony that stretched the full expanse of the flat, giving access to the bedroom, bathroom, and…an additional room.

The bedroom was outfitted with a king sized bed, lush linens, a reading nook, and a spacious closet already filled with garments more keeping to their life before their incarceration. Adjoining, there was a luxurious, spa-like bathroom with a shower large enough for both of them to bathe at the same time, as well as a two person soaking tub. The room next to the bedroom was a bit perplexing, however.

“What do you think this space is meant for?” Emma asked after they’d swung the door wide to reveal a cozy, not yet furnished bedroom.

Killian swallowed thickly and shrugged his shoulders, hoping Emma would not take notice of his sudden change in demeanor. He had a pretty good idea what potential use Pan may have had in mind for the small room only steps away from the main suite, but just as he had when his suspicions had run rampant in response to Emma becoming violently ill earlier, he tamped them down and put on his best poker face. Fortunately - or unfortunately - he was spared from having to bluff further.

“Well?” Pan’s voice echoed in from the living room. “What’s the verdict?”

Making their way back to where the obvious camera was, though Killian knew there had to be many more hidden throughout the space, he and Emma glanced at one another with an affirming look before Emma sighed and said, “When do we move in?”

Pan practically crowed in response to their answer. “How about now?”

Killian and Emma both balked. “Now?” Killian said, incredulously.

“Why not?” Pan replied. “Call it a token of my gratitude and a reminder of how generous I can be.”

Killian wasn’t certain how to respond and found himself murmuring an astounded thank you alongside his Swan.

“Just remember my benevolence this weekend when it comes time to entertain my guests,” Pan commented with a slight warning in his voice. “Oh! And I have a few notes to go over with you later this week in preparation.”

“Goody,” Killian grumbled under his breath, earning him an elbow in his ribs.

“Until then… enjoy your new home.”

Killian shuddered and huffed out an exhale. Turning towards Emma, he was met with a stern look and disapproving hands on her hips.

“What has gotten into you?” she demanded.

“What are you--”

“Don’t give me that,” she countered. “You’ve been off all day. Earlier in the shower, then confronting the Lost Ones in the elevator, sassing Pan, smashing vases… Killian,” her expression softened as she reached up to cup his cheek. His face nuzzled into her touch as it was prone to do. “What is going on with you? Talk to me.”

Killian opened his mouth, but the words kept getting stuck in the back of his throat. He didn’t want to lie to her, didn’t want to keep this secret from her, but the alternative…

“I’m scared,” he choked out in no more than a whisper. “Scared I can’t… protect you. Scared that there will come a time when we are truly faced with an impossible choice, or that I’ll have to betray you in some way in order to protect you. Scared that I might be forced to do something you could never forgive. Something I could never forgive myself for.”

“That isn’t going to happen,” she said in an attempt to assuage his fears.

“You don’t know--”

“Yes, I do.” Her tone left no room for argument, but she continued on just the same. “Do you know how I know?” Killian shook his head. “Because I have the same fears. Because I know all of the terrible things you have imagined us having to endure and I have already forgiven you for each and every one of them.” Pressing her forehead against his, she closed her eyes and wet her lips before flicking her gaze up to his once more. “There is nothing - NOTHING - you could ever do in response to Pan’s insanity that I would not forgive you for, just as I hope you would be willing and able to forgive me for--”

“Always,” he said, cutting her off. “There is nothing I would not forgive, love. Nothing.”

A smile ghosted over her lips and she pressed in closer to him. “Then what do you say we get the broken vase cleaned up then make ourselves something to eat, hmm?”

“I suppose I could eat,” he said, pulling back slightly so he could gaze down at her. “Any requests?”

Emma’s brows shot up her forehead and surprise colored her features. “Don’t tell me you can cook.”

“I’ll have you know I am quite deft in the kitchen, Swan.” Waggling his brows, he added, “Almost as much as I am in the bedroom.”

Emma giggled and pulled him in for a kiss, but not before she murmured a final, affirming, “Yep. Total. Forgiveness.”

Part Eleven

[j2d3]

Killian Jones x Fem Reader - Ouat

Picture this, in ouat you as a character represent the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland but your not a cat your a witch, a mischievous one  and the mad hatter is your bestie. You were in the first curse so your in storybrooke and right now you and Killian happen in season 4 or 5, to sum you and Killian's relationship up your lovers in secret. (This is my first time writing smut so it may not be very good and descriptive) 

“You know I really think your as mad as I am y/n.” My bestfriend Jefferson says as he shoves a donut up his mouth. 

“I’m not mad, I’m simply mischievous. There's a large difference between bonkers and rebellion.”  

“ I’m pretty sure there's a short difference between bonkers and rebellion.” Jefferson mockingly says.      

“Whelp I think it’s time for me to go, I’ve got to go pick up Grace from school or wherever she is these cursed days, catch you later y/n!”  

“I’ll think about that!” I watch Jefferson run off near the street and around Granny's, now that I think about it I want Granny's, especially the hot chocolate . I walk to Granny's and make my way inside, I catch a familiars eye and the next second he approaches me. 

“What do you want Killian, and can you get out of my personal space your very suffocating.” It’s weird how he isn’t drinking yet he still approaches me in public especially when he’s really close, he usually does this in private. I really need to start going to Granny’s when Killian isn’t here, I can’t risk unwanted attention literally.

“Well what I want love is y-”  I walk out Granny’s hoping he doesn't follow or finish his statement  but of course Killian being Killian follows.  

“What I was going to say before you rudely walked away from me was, actually I don’t feel like telling you since you’ve been such a bad girl but maybe you can do something for me to hear it.” I keep walking away but what if I did what he wanted me to do for him, I already know what he’s going to say or do I? I turn around facing him, letting him know I want whatever he’s going to make me do with a mischievous grin.

“So you’ll do it?” Killian says with an eager smirk.

“ Well, some go this way, and some go that way. But as for me, myself, personally, I prefer the short-cut. Yes I’ll do it.” I disappear and appear again but this time much closer to Killian before pulling in Killian for a kiss, with my powers I teleport us in his room, well in a room on his Jolly Roger.  

“Easy there love, your forgetting your playing my game.” I roll my eyes in response which will probably make me a bad girl in his game.

“what was that, did you ignore me? Such a bad girl you are.” He puts me on his bed and I wrap my legs around his waist, as he touches my leg he moves his cold hook slowly closer and closer towards my clit. I’ve got to admit he has successfully gotten me horny and wet. 

“ A while ago I was going to say is I want you, and right now I’ll make you want me no matter how long our little game last.” He takes his hand and his hook off my thighs only to take off his belt and take his cock out, he then moves on to me taking my underwear off under my skirt. 

“Do you want me now?”   

“Mayb-” He pushes himself into me without warning, I let out a loud moan, as I grip on to his back along with leaving a scratch on his back, I catch a glimpse of him holding onto his sheets, gosh damn it he’s going to go hard.

“Maybe? Maybe’s not good enough love, rethink that for me.” Within a moment of catching my breath he pushes his cock deeper inside me leaving me pushing my nails in his back and letting many more loud moans escape my mouth. 

“So do you have an answer now love or would you like me to keep going?” No matter how many times I try to catch my breath I know damn well he won’t slow down, he’ll go faster. I can feel his hand move up from my thighs to my breast to the point where he’s ripping off my shirt and my bra underneath.

 “What a wet girl you are huh.” I can hear a low moan escape his mouth but other than that I’m practically his toy, “I wan--t you.” because of how many times I’ve tried to catch my breath I’m practically hard to hear plus how loud the bed is.

“Love speak up, I can’t hear you quite well.” Killian says as he goes even faster and deeper in me, at this point I’m completely paralyzed. He did not lie when he said we would fuck till I said I wanted him, and right now it seems like it would take me forever to say it. He kisses my chest up to my neck where he gives me hickeys, now I want him.

“I want you.” I stumble upon saying hoping it's enough and loud enough. “Good girl, that’s more like it.”

[fxckin-blackbeard]

A Stormy Evening

|| @pyramultimuse - Killian Jones ||

ᒥ🌟ᒧ—        A storm had been brewing, Edward knew it was coming the moment he went out to the stable to water and feed the horse that morning. The soft breeze, the eerie quiet in the trees, and one glance to the clouds in the sky he was certain. He was excited, truthfully. A wild storm brought him peace and calm. His time at sea taught him many men feared a storm, but never did Edward. Wild winds, unforgiving and ruthless waves, and unrelenting rain brought him nothing but a sense of belonging, as though the sea itself reflected his soul for what it was.

That evening, once the torrential rain and whipping winds had begun, he found himself slipping outside. Now, there he laid on the side of the fountain in the garden. One arm hung down in the fountain's water, swaying back and forth to feel the movement of the water against his skin. On his back, brown hues stare up at the grey clouds, Edward drifting off deep into his thoughts. Silver hair, dampened by the rain, splayed out over the marble, no longer able to be blown by the wind.

The man draws in a deep breath, taking in the scent of wet moss, leaves, and soil surrounding him. He can hear the sound of rain drops dancing on green leaves of the forest, only for the wind to whistle through mere moments later.

While he missed the soothing rock of the ship by swells, the creaking of old wood, and the smell of fresh salt on those wild winds, he had to admit enjoying a storm in the woods was nearly as soothing as it would be on the deck of the Queen Anne. It was certainly different, from sounds and smells, but it wasn't terrible.

Edward's head lulls to the side, and he watches rain disturb the surface of the fountain's water. It was no raging sea, but a look of calm and peace on his face said he didn't seem to care. And so, he'd happily enjoy the storm there on the fountain, arm lazily moving through the water as he continues to watch the downpour on the surface.

[markjelol1112]

Mark his drinking problems a Mark and Karina story P2

Warning: 18+ drunken failures sex spanking fingering

Mark was asleep same as Karina but while he is sleeping he was thinking about s*x so he try something but what he did was for Karina amazing she was sleeping for a moment while Mark try to find his d*ck to do something everyone was sleeping so they don't even hear or even see it so Karina don't even mind it but Mark found something but he didn't notice that he is In Karina her p*ssy and he started fingering in Karina her p*ssy and she started moaning

Oh yeah it feels so good." Karina said while moaning

And Mark was fingering deeper in Karina her p*ssy that's se moaned loud but nobody heard anything of it Mark was fingering so good in Karina her p*ssy that her p*ssy was getting wet

I'm going to c*m." Karina said again

And all of her wet p*ssy came out of it

Oh yeah that was great oh my god." Karina said again

The next morning Mark had a headache of being drunk yesterday and finding out that he was fingering Karina in her p*ssy last night

What the f*ck have I done oh f*cking lord." Mark said again

As Daniël came in and was in shock

Mark what the f*ck happened here the floor is completely wet what have you done." Daniël said again

I don't know the last thing I remember that I dreamed that I was having s*x with someone else to make Ningning jealous on me that's all." Mark said again

As Mark and Daniël cleaned everything up before the others know what happened Killian came downstairs and saw that Mark and Daniël where cleaning the floor

Guys what the f*ck are you cleaning." Killian said again

Mark I think you can explain what happened I guess." Daniël said again

I don't remember it what happened idiot." Mark said again

As everything was clean Giselle Winter Thomas and Ningning came downstairs to see what's going on

Good morning guys." Thomas said again

YOU I WILL SPEAK WITH YOU FOR A MOMENT." Mark yelled again

Uhm is he still drunk." Thomas said again

No just a headache now." Mark said again

That's because you where drunk yesterday idiot." Daniël said again

I don't drink alcohol you idiot." Mark said again

You drank 15 bottles of beer yesterday because of Ningning." Daniël said again

Oh shut the f*ck up." Mark said again

Guys can you be quiet Karina is still sleeping I don't know what happened to her but I think she had her best night ever yesterday when we were sleeping." Ningning said again

Shut the f*ck up you I didn't tell you to talk." Mark said again

Mark calm down." Thomas said again

And Mark slapped in Thomas his face

YOU STOLE HER FROM ME YOU F*CKING IDIOT NOW YOU MAKE ME THINKING OF A OTHER PERSON." Mark yelled again

STOP IT OKAY IT'S NOT MY FAULT THAT ME AND KARINA BROKE UP YESTERDAY BEFORE I WAS WITH NINGNING TO A ROMANTIC MOVIE NIGHT FOR US 2 THAT AND IN FACT THAT I NEVER LEAVE KARINA BEHIND ME YOU SON OF A B*TCH." Thomas yelled again

Guys please let me sleep." Karina said again

And she opened her eyes and realised that she did something

Uhm why am I half n*ked can someone explain this." Karina said again

While the boys turned around and Karina put her underwear and pants back on she felt weird

Well why you all looking at me." Karina said again

Maybe you should where cleaner clothes." Winter said again

As Karina go to her room and thinks what happened last night while she is undressing herself Mark has a little problem in his pants

Uhm Mark something down in your pants is looking at you." Daniël

What do you mean with AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH oh my god I need to go to my room." Mark said again

Instead of running to his room he runs upstairs

Mark your room is there not upstairs." Killian said again

Karina was still looking at her n*ked body grabbing her t*ts sometimes and still thinking who did something last night but she didn't lock her door of her room and all of the sudden Mark stormed in her room without knocking

Oh my god what's going on and Aaaaaaaaaah oh sorry I didn't notice that you where here and n*ked I'm gonna leave you bye." Mark said again

Wait maybe I can help with that problem from your d*ck in your pants." Karina said again

And she locked her door of her room and put Mark his pants of and his underwear too

Karina what are you planning to do." Mark said again

Just a little thing." Karina said again

And she started to s*cking Mark his d*ck and Mark grabbed Karina her hair and make it go faster

While Karina was s*cking Mark his d*ck she was also fingering herself after she s*cked Mark his d*ck Karina throwing Mark on her bed and put his d*ck in her wet p*ssy and started moaning while having s*x with Mark

Oh yeah do you feel good bby." Karina said again while moaning

Oh f*ck yeah I feel I need more and more and more do it bby do it bby." Mark said again

The end P2

[booksteaandtoomuchtv]

Burn The Ships (3/?)

A HUGE THANK YOU TO @snowbellewells FOR THIS INCREDIBLE ART. I wish I knew how to best express how amazing it feels to have someone make art for something I wrote. It is just the best feeling in the world. <3

THIS IS/WILL BE MATURE.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | ???

Tagging: @anmylica, @deckerstarblanche, @elfiola, @goforlaunchcee, @jrob64, @kmomof4, @pirateswhore, @stahlop, @teamhook, @tiganasummertree, @undercaffinatednightmare, @xarandomdreamx, @zaharadessert (let me know if you want to be added or dropped)

Exhaustion did not lovingly pull Emma into a peaceful oblivion where she could rest and forget. Rather, it dragged her into a brutal storm - the howling winds tore at her, the thunder rumbled threateningly deep in her bones, and emotions best forgotten rained down on her. She was alone, abandoned on the edge of a forest. The cold rain seeped into her bones, having already soaked through her clothing, as she stumbled forward toward… nothing. She had no place to call home. 

In the way of dreams, Emma blinked and was on a beach. Her body ached as if she’d been walking for days. She wasn’t sure where she was going but walked on as waves pummelled the shoreline. It seemed she wasn’t alone, apparently, the storm would accompany her through these strange dreams. 

She turned toward the turbulent waters and her next step landed on a wooden board. Her stomach plummeted as the ship was thrown from the rolling sea. Emma desperately reached out, trying to find something to keep her on the deck as the ship leaned dangerously into the water. The boards were too wet, the sea too hungry for new souls… Emma was being sucked under the water, lungs screaming for air. 

I’ve got you. 

Cool, crisp air filled her lungs. She was back on the deck of a ship, once more. The angry onslaught of violent waves had given way to playful swells that lapped gently against the hull. No other soul was aboard the ship, but Emma felt contented rather than alone. A word, a feeling, that had never carried meaning to her wrapped itself around her heart followed by a consuming fear - panic - it would be taken away.

You’re safe, love.

The softly accented voice reached through her dreams again, wrapping around her as warm and comforting as a well-loved blanket. Emma yearned to snuggle into the melody of that low voice. In that strange way of dreams, she suddenly felt certain that the voice could protect her from the painful reality that waited to greet her upon waking. If she could just melt into it, maybe it would prevent her from losing that feeling she’d spent a lifetime chasing. 

Rest now.

And, at long last, with that voice and that feeling wrapped around her heart, Emma rested. §§§§    §§§§    §§§§    §§§§

The white wolf had been stunning, her fur seemed to shimmer with its own light source. But the woman who stormed out of his cabin the next morning was a sight to behold. 

With her blonde waves flowing behind her and her emerald eyes wild, this wild woman charged onto the deck armed with only his letter opener and a lot of swagger. She acted as though she were a rival captain set on commandeering his ship rather than a damsel recently rescued from Pan’s clutches. She had taken the liberty of procuring clothing from his wardrobe before launching her assault, the deep plunging necklines of his shirts and the way his soft leather trousers wrapped around her curves distracting him long enough for her to strike out with her borrowed weapon. 

Killian captured her wrist and forced her to release the letter opener in a quick motion. He’d offer to teach her how to properly wield any weapon of her choosing once they were better acquainted. Perhaps sometime after he was certain that he wasn’t in danger of finding the weapon buried somewhere in his flesh. 

 Sighing at her newest attempts to claw at his leather coat, he pulled her closer.

“I’m not your enemy,” he murmured to her as he wrapped his arms around her, pinning her arms to her side to prevent her from continuing her attack. He tried to focus on calming her and gaining control of the situation rather than the way she felt in his arms and the way her scent stirred something deep within him.

“You’re safe, love,” he soothed. The woman stilled. 

Her frantic breathing slowed and the tension slipped from her limbs. The ocean lapping on the hull and their breathing were the only sounds for a few moments. It could have been romantic…if the situation were entirely different. 

“If you promise to behave, I will let you go.”  

She stared at him with frustration burning brightly behind her eyes. Her wildness and defiance stoked a desire in him - and his wolf - that he was becoming more difficult to ignore with every minute he spent in her presence. 

After a moment, during which she held his gaze with hers as if trying to determine the trick in his offer, she nodded in agreement with his terms. He reluctantly released her. 

The loss of contact left him desperate for any excuse to hold her again. He suppressed the whine his wolf let loose with a clearing of his throat. Then, with a bit of a flourish, he introduced himself to her. 

“I am Captain Killian Jones and you’re aboard the Jolly Roger. You are welcome on my ship for as long as you wish.” 

“HOOK?! You’re Captain Hook?” She wasn’t afraid of him, which seemed promising. Doesn’t mean she will love someone like you. Killian shoved away the taunting voice of his father and smiled at her as if she had said something particularly flattering. 

“Ah, so you have heard of me.”

She looked at him flatly, clearly not impressed with his antics. “Is this ship enchanted?” The abrupt question was a bit unexpected. Of course, the Jolly Roger was enchanted - to keep a course he set, to alert him of guests aboard his ship, to hide treasures from unwelcome eyes - but the enchantments were subtle and not something that should be so easily detected. 

He cocked an eyebrow to conceal his surprise. “I’m not giving secrets away to a lass who hasn’t given me her name.”

“Oh, so it is enchanted.” She looked around as if the spell work would reveal itself to her. She took a few deep breaths, frowned a bit, breathed in again, and turned back to look at him. “Emma Swan.” 

“Why are you sniffing my ship,” he hesitated before deciding with certainty, “Swan?” He smiled, the name fit her perfectly - and felt so right leaving his lips.

“Better question. Why would you use magic to make it smell so… incredible?” 

Killian scratched a spot behind his ear. What was the correct way to tell someone who woke up on a strange ship and wasn’t sure if you were another threat in the never-ending nightmare of Neverland or a possible ally that the scent they thought was part of a strange enchantment was a sign that they were in the presence of their mate? It seemed a lot to ask of anyone without adding that she had been Pan’s prisoner for some length of time before becoming the target of the most recent hunt. 

“The incredible smell of salt and fish?” Smee grumbled. A few of the crew laughed. Emma looked thoroughly confused. Killian wasn’t sure if her confusion was at his comment or at the sudden realisation that they had an audience for this little episode. 

Seeing as he’d completely forgotten his men still on the deck, he figured it was likely a bit of both. He did not want an audience for whatever was to follow.

“That’s enough from you, Mr Smee. There is a deck that needs to be swabbed.” Hook growled out. Grumbling, Smee stomped down the stairs to the main deck. The other crewmen fell into their own tasks and responsibilities understanding the example being made of the first mate. 

Emma watched all of this with a small frown on her face.

Once they were alone on the quarterdeck, she focused her piercing emerald gaze at Killian. “Do you think he really doesn’t smell that…?” 

Killian shook his head and answered softly, gently, “No, love, I don’t believe he smells anything but the sea.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him, “But…you, you smell it?” The words sounded as though she were begging him to confirm that she hadn’t taken leave of all of her senses. 

“Aye.” He confirmed with a small smile. 

Her eyes widened, panic flashing momentarily before several other emotions followed in quick succession. “Oh.”

Killian winced. “Aye.”

[statustemporary]

running home to your sweet nothings, chapter 2

STORY SUMMARY: His informality is refreshing; like water in a desert, Emma is parched and desperate for more.

“Take note, Princess, that I take no pleasure in pointing out the susceptibilities of your security or skills. It is my loyalty to you that wants you to remain safe.” There’s an earnestness to his voice and Emma feels her cheeks heat. His breath fans against her face in soft puffs as he speaks and the corner of his mouth lifts in a small smile.

“What have I done to earn such loyalty other than wear a crown?” she asks in an equally quiet voice. She’s breathless as she speaks but she yearns for his unfiltered response.

// or the four gifts of killian jones

RATING: M for Mature Audience (Implied sexual conduct, violence)

WORD COUNT: 9,002 words

TAGS: Alternative Universe, Enchanted Forest AU, Blacksmith!Killian, Violence, Implied Sexual Conduct

AO3

AUTHOR'S NOTE: had over 5k of this chapter sitting on my computer for well over a year. and have had 8k of chapter 3 for even longer than that (but who knows what of that will be kept).

anyway the first part of this chapter and the last part are my favorites, especially the first. the last part has been in my mind since i expanded this story beyond the prompt of gifts from killian lol. so yay for finally writing it! <3

having a lot of trouble staying inspired for ouat, especially over the last few months as i fundamentally disagree with some cast members stances. sorry not sorry for my inability to separate art from the artist. just trying to empty out my WIPs folder on my folder so i can fully move on. current WIPs will be finished. at some point.

anyway (x2) enjoy! sorry its been a year and a half lol

***

two and a half centuries ago.

late summer.

ella.

Her fingertips feel like fire.

Water crashes against the steep cliffs of Segovia and the freezing sea jumps up and nips at her exposed ankles. She pays no attention to the chill that travels her body or the way her sandy blonde hair whips in her face from the harsh winds. Instead, she keeps her eyes closed and hands held out in front of her.

Her magic gets weaker each time she uses it.

Magic had been thought to be extinct for years in Misthaven, the inhabitants losing it centuries back. The fairies retained their magic but even with their resources, could find no reasoning behind the loss for Misthaven’s people. Some of those in Misthaven believed that the Dark One was draining the land and its people of their magic for a dark curse but none had been cast. Others felt the magic was limited and once it was gone, there was no replenishing it.

And then Ella had been born as a product of True Love, and the first glance at pure magic in nearly three centuries. Her magic was respected by most and feared by others. When the Second Ogre War started a year ago, it became an expectation that she’d use her magic to help Misthaven succeed.

So she did. Her mother always told her to have courage and be kind, and what better way to live that to the fullest than doing all she could to protect the other citizens of Misthaven from a hostile takeover by the ogres?

Except… her magic is waning.

Like a wet cloth being hung to dry, she feels herself slowly losing her magic until there is close to none left. It is proving to be a problem on the battlefield as she doesn’t have the energy or the magic anymore to keep Misthaven from sending in soldiers.

Without her magic, she has no way to protect Kit.

She feels a momentary surge of energy flow through her body as her magic weaves through the dirt and pebbles on the cliffside, feels it singing as it circles a collection of ferrum.

There’s not much left, she thinks to herself of both the rocks and her magic.

Her work is hasty and not as clean as she wishes it could be but she knows that time is against her now.

Ella pulls the ferrum rocks from their place in an alcove on the cliff and piles them on a flat area. The sea water is getting rougher and wets her hair, her dress beyond repair from how the elements have thrashed it about. She quiets her mind and focuses on her Kit, letting her magic flow through her for one of the last times.

Black hair with a curl to it she loved to run her fingers through. A big heart guarded behind a charming smile. Those piercing blue eyes that could keep her rooted to the spot. He had her heart from the moment they met on horseback and she never looked back.

Her hands are burning as she opens her eyes. The rocks have transformed from separate entities into pieces of armor. Lining the edges of each piece is a design born from their love.

Stags to symbolize their first meeting. Shoes to symbolize how they found one another. A vine to connect to the three symbols together, representing their partnership and bond.

The last of her magic flares under her fingertips and Ella picks up the chest plate, lifting it to her face.

“Please take care of my love,” she whispers, sealing her plea with a soft kiss and a spark.

A feeling of emptiness envelops her in an embrace and she fights to wrap her arms around herself to keep out the cold it brings. She doesn’t have time to wallow in the loss of something so intricate to who she is. To stand there and focus on the ache in her heart or the hollow feeling in her chest is precious time wasted when she could be helping.

Ella takes a deep breath and marches past the longing in her fingertips for something just out of reach and instead gathers the armor she’s crafted. She cannot afford to let her emotions take control at this moment. That can wait for her lonely bedchambers late in the night when no one can hear her cry. For now, she needs to see her Kit off.

*

five and twenty.

early winter.

somewhere in the enchanted forest.

emma.

The flying simians attack on their fifth day.

*

Leaving Misthaven comes with an ease that unsettles Emma. The tension coiling around her shoulders refuses to alleviate as the castle walls become mere specks when she looks behind herself. Her posture remains rigid, her fitted armor, a gift from Killian, digs into her forearms from how restricted she keeps her movements.

Horse riding has never been a favorite activity of Emma’s. Being taught to sit astride a giant beast in the few moments of freedom she had growing up always felt more uncomfortable than liberating. Forever the black sheep of her family, her parents and their friends would guide their horses with ease while her confidence remained shaky.

Years have passed since her first riding lessons and yet unease still sits in the pit of her stomach. However, this time she can’t tell if it’s from the animal being squeezed between her boney knees or the mission she’s assigned herself.

She knows Killian believes her actions to be dumb, reckless, and completely unnecessary, but this is for her people. She has to protect them.

Besides, she will not let him throw himself on a sword just to spare her the slight inconvenience and possible danger. He’s much too important to her for her to let him volunteer himself like he tried. And he should give her more credit – he did teach her how to defend herself after all.

Emma ducks her head when a branch gets in her path and nearly falls off of her horse when she tries to sit up again.

A roaring laugh escapes a knight from behind her and she knows immediately that it belongs to Will Scarlet.

The knights that are with her trot through the forest without a worry as they move through Misthaven’s trees. This is just another day for them, another assignment, another potential battle. They have seen the worst of the worst and it has not scared them away yet.

Her bravado has been a front and she’s sure at least some of the most experienced of the group could read through it. But her people need her and if she must fake the confidence of a seasoned general, then she will do so, no matter how inadequate she feels.

The last and only time she’d gone to battle had been against Regina. The Evil Queen had caught them all off-guard, able to sneak into Misthaven by piggybacking on the magic of a fairy, they learned months after the fact, and Emma was unprepared, her magic unruly and uncontrollable.

“She must have been weak,” Emma tried to reason as Blue stood by her bed, her parents sitting at the foot.

“You have powerful magic, Princess,” Blue explained. “Magic belonging to True Love. Most magic users access their power through intellect. For them, it is a learned skill. You are rare, Princess Emma. You were born with it and you access your magic through your emotions. Emotions have the ability to create incredible magic, especially light magic, the likes of which the realm has never seen before.” She watched the fairy’s eyes slide over to her parents. Never before had she felt like such a fraud.

“The magic I used wasn’t light. I was angry. I wanted her gone,” Emma choked out.

Blue shook her head. “Anger is easy. It is the most natural emotion there is. The magic you used was made from love, Princess Emma. Love is the most powerful magic of all.”

She pulled her blankets tighter around her body, dragged her knees to her chest.

It certainly didn’t feel like love. How can ending someone’s life come from love? How can allowing them to suffer and not feeling remorse for it come from love?

Emma felt empty. She mentally reached towards her magic to feel it straining to return her call. What had always been an overabundance in her life – a threat to herself and those she loved – was barely there.

“What happened to it?” she asked, eyes full of tears and her hand shaking as she held it out of the blanket. “My magic,” she continued, voice cracking. “It – it isn’t all there. What happened to it?”

She missed the looks of sympathies shared between the three adults in the room before they broke the news to her.

Too much magic. Exhausted it. Body needed to recover. Might not come back.

She wept.

At least now, as she rides towards an unknown foe, she finds comfort in the fact that she’s not unprepared.

The sword Killian made for her bounces against her upper thigh as the horse below her trots down the dirt pathways. Its’ comforting weight at her side keeps the lessons he taught her in her mind. Their sparing sessions have made her almost as good of a swordsman as he is and holding a sword no longer feels awkward. His work has made her feel like the sword is an extension of her hand.

It also, unsurprisingly, feels like home.

Because with every remembrance of their sparing sessions, she recalls the feel of his lips against her mouth and his skin on hers. The way his raised eyebrow and smirk could make her heart race and how his presence made her feel like her magic was sparking back to life.

Her fingertips tingle and Emma glances down and imagines a faint glow surrounding them before the neigh of a horse breaks her reprieve.

Robin rides to her left while Will rides to her right, Lancelot and Little John scouting ahead with Dorothy following up behind. It is an odd group of knights that gathered at the barn to follow her along enemy lines but she trusts their abilities.

Robin, Lancelot, and Dorothy are the veterans of the group. The years of their training together totaling just shy of twice Emma’s age. Little John prefers to stay back, his tall stature a hindrance more often than not, but his abilities with a bow and arrow are lethal. Will is the youngest of the group, energetic like some of the pups on nearby farmlands and eager to prove himself worthy, though there’s an edge to his attitude that gives way to the wisdom learned on the streets he dragged himself from.

His sometimes-skittish behavior reminds her of what Killian must have been like as a boy before he and his brother happened upon Misthaven’s shores.

The trees are quiet for most of their ride. Branches and leaves sway in the wind, a soft rustling filling the silent air. Robin quickly established a system amongst the group – silence in the forest, ears searching for any sign of the enemy, and chatter allowed in the villages they pass. As they continue their journey, the villages become farther and farther between, silence becoming their most often companion.

The green of the forest brings a sense of comfort to Emma. They remind her of the color of her mother’s eyes and if she closes her own hard enough, she can imagine herself back at the castle, debating in the war room about next steps once Emma has news for her.

Her mother sends birds often. She realizes quickly that she must have her own system for ensuring one reaches her every few hours during the first two days. As much as this is her first big journey away from the castle, one her parents tried to talk her out of, this is also their first time being away from her. So she welcomes the birds and sends her own short messages back, confirming her safety and decreeing no news.

Longing burrows in her chest as by the third day, the birds only come twice. When the sun rises on the fourth, her mother’s accompanying note breaks the news she would only be able to send one bird a day.

Loneliness fights to take hold.

“There was once a family in Arendelle who had a tutor staying in their home,” Will starts as they near the outskirts of a village. Their travel companions groan and Emma bites back a smile. Propriety is hard to drop, even for this ragtag group, but Will sheds it fastest and most often. The earlier chastising from Robin fell on deaf ears as, to all of their mortification, Will told the dirtiest joke to ever grace Emma’s ears.

The snorting laugh he earned from his princess seemed to only spur the knight on further, as every village they arrived at brought forth another joke.

It eases her burdens, lessens the stress on her shoulders, and lets her forget the danger ahead, even if just for a moment.

“The tutor came so often that he felt himself at home and even had a turn with the housemaid, the nurse, and the mistress herself.” Emma’s gasp only brings a wolfish grin to Will’s face and she spots from the corner of her eye the death glare that Robin is sending his way. “When the master of the house discovered this, he summoned the young man to his private chamber and said, ‘I find it unmannerly of you, sir, that in taking your please of my entire household, you have made an exception of me.’”

Her roaring laugh echoes in the quiet village and she notices that even Lancelot, propriety in the flesh, cracks a grin.

“Where do you come up with this stuff?” she wonders.

“The gutter, undoubtedly,” Dorothy pipes up.

“I don’t visit you that often,” Will shoots back, his grin widening at the hard stare and white-knuckled grip of his comrade. “I learned meself such a grand knowledge like any growing lad did – eavesdropping at the tavern.”

Robin’s horse trots forward just slightly as the man leans over to catch a proper look at Will. “All of that eavesdropping and not a single manner picked up?”

“You give him too much credit!” Little John calls from the front.

“Oi! Just because I’m ordered not to kill you doesn’t mean I can’t.”

“Get a new line already, Scarlett!”

“Settle down, boys,” Dorothy says. “We’re getting close to the village center.”

Lancelot immediately adds, “Eyes out. Something’s not right.”

She registers the smell a few moments later and recoils in disgust.

Smoke. Wood. Flesh.

The distinct smell of burning flesh haunts her nightmares, lingers in the back of her throat as an aftertaste when her thoughts go astray. A quick succession of deep breaths keeps the urge to retch at bay. Still, she cannot will her horse to move.

“Princess Emma,” Robin calls softly, spotting and turning back to her. He lets the others go before them and she watches as they cover their noses and mouths with a cloth. It would be wise to do the same but her muscles won’t move. “Princess Emma,” Robin tries again. “Are you alright?”

“I – I’m fine,” she insists. He only nods and eyes her for a moment.

“Best cover up. You don’t want to be breathing in things like this.” He hands her a spare cloth and she ties it behind her head, mimicking Robin’s own movements. When she completes it, he gives her a nod and a smile, from what she can tell by his crinkling eyes. He gestures her forward but it takes a minute for her body to listen to her commands.

Their ride towards the nearby village settles a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. Images of Regina flash in her head no matter how hard she tries.

She spends the walk reliving Regina’s death. The way her skin melted under her gaze. The lack of guilt for what she’d done.

It terrifies her how clear everything still is for her.

Keeping her mind in the present is the hardest part so Emma tries to listen for any noises from around them.

The village is still a half hour away yet the entire forest is as if all signs of life have disappeared. No birds chirping – not even the ones that her mother has been sending after her to keep in touch. No crickets making music, no bees buzzing, not even the rustling of the tree branches.

Silence has never terrified her as much as this.

Ten minutes from the center of the village and they see another person for the first time. They struggle to walk and burns cover most of their body. Like in a trance, they ignore every offer of help coming from Emma and her companions. She moves to get off her horse when the person throws up, blood decorating the forest floor, before collapsing into the pool of their own fluids. The sight takes her breath away and she has to blink away the tears.

“Stay close,” Lancelot warns as they reach the settlement.

Stragglers stumble their way down the streets of the village. Their clothing disheveled and singed in spots, thatched roofs gone from most of the buildings and some still burn as they enter. It looks as if a storm of wind and fire rolled through and the village has yet to recover.

Something large sails overhead, a bird looking much different than she’d ever seen before. Its cawing sounds are unlike anything she’s heard before and it sends a chill down her spine. Four days on the road and an unsettling feeling returns to the center of her chest. She works hard to calm her panicking heart and instead places her trust in the guards around her.

“Let’s find a place to settle for the night,” Robin says, eyes darting to the sky.

They discuss quickly and quietly where the best place would be and settle on an abandoned stable nearby. A river runs behind it and even that doesn’t make a sound.

The stable doesn’t seem to have been damaged by storms like so many homes have been in the village, meaning something else drove the family away. Her only guess is the nearby enemy encampments, but this feels like something more.

Almost like there’s magic waiting for her across the river but what little there is in her can’t reach far enough to grab it and understand what is happening.

Instead, they pair up and ensure that everyone has someone looking out for them. Emma’s never felt so vulnerable until she had to empty her bladder as Dorothy remained vigilant on all that surrounds them. Someone could come up behind them at any moment and her sword was lying on the ground at her feet, swallowed by her riding trousers.

She quickly finds comfort in pulling her dagger from her boot and holding it in her hand as she goes.

Most of the villagers don’t even spare them a second glance as they move about. There’s a haunted look in their eyes that makes Emma roll her shoulders in an attempt to ease the brewing tension. Odd shapes keep flying between the treetops casting unfamiliar shadows on the ground. The animals never come close enough to identify but Emma still feels their eyes glaring into the back of her head.

The group finishes the necessary tasks quickly before retreating back to the stables come nightfall.

The horses stomp restlessly as they settle in during the late evening. The hair on the back of her neck stands up at their unease and the feeling spreads throughout their group. Wailing – the heart-wrenching, sore throat, dry heaving kind – echoes from different corners of the village and grief hangs heavy in the air.

“We won’t stay for more than a night,” Lancelot says. “One guard at all times. No one leaves this stable tonight. Is that understood?” A round of nods comes from the group and the knight assigns shifts.

“What about me?” Emma asks.

“With all due respect, Princess, I cannot afford to have you on guard. Rest. Your work is tomorrow.”

His decision is hard to swallow but Emma nods anyway. It wouldn’t do good to throw a tantrum among the people whose job is to protect her. She will let it slide for tonight, her stomach twisting in uncomfortably fast motions. But tomorrow she will take part.

It takes a great effort to not stomp and grumble on her way to her sleeping spot but apparently it still isn’t good enough as it gets a laugh from Robin. He lounges against one of the closed stable doors, a picture of ease with his legs stretched in front of him and his ankles crossed.

She halfheartedly glares at the man before she attempts to fluff the hay. It’s certainly a far cry from a palace pillow but it’ll have to do.

“Is everything alright, Princess Emma?” he asks. They are the only two at their end of the stables, the others working over a strategy near the entrance.

“I had hoped for better accommodations,” she answers after a moment, teasing smile on her lips. He grins quick even as her attention drifts to the huddle once again.

“Apologies, Your Highness. Next time we will find the stable with silk sheets and a feathered bed.”

Instead of continuing in a light banter, she keeps her focus on Lancelot. “You know I am capable with a sword,” she says, her tone questioning.

“Of course, Princess,” Robin answers. His lips quirk up as if entertained.

“Then I should be on watch as well. You all need as much rest as possible for us to continue our journey tomorrow.”

“While I have no doubts in your abilities, it is best for you to rest tonight.”

“I am not that tired.”

Almost immediately after the words leave her mouth, she fights back a yawn and fails. Robin grins at the attempt. He watches her for a moment before a somber expression graces his features. “You are not underestimated, please know that,” he starts. “But we have no clue what attacked the village. Your safety is our top priority and it will make all of our lives easier if you accept that as well.”

His words serve as a necessary reminder that everyone with her is risking their own lives for her mission. They are trailing the edges of enemy territory, an enemy that gets more terrifying the more they discover, and are hoping to sneak to the site for materials unnoticed. It’s a monumental task, one with no guarantee of return, and she bites hard on her tongue to repress the urge wanting to say she can do it on her own.

She’s felt like she’s been on her own for so long, trapped in her golden cage dressed as a palace. Forced to be her own friend and entertain herself, teach herself things her parents were too scared of, coping with her situation all alone.

She was on her own against Regina, her parents powerless to stop her. She was alone when she woke up in the infirmary months later and without an idea of what happened.

Always so alone, always so lonely.

Then Killian inserted himself into her life for one night and flipped everything on its head. Immediately they fell into the role of partners with a common task, working together silently, clicking right away. For the first time in her life, loneliness was not her only companion.

The time after he disappeared allowed that numbing loneliness to creep its way back into her life only to be banished once again at his return.

She loves her people and would do anything for them but in truth… He is who she is doing all of this for. He is who she will return home to.

Robin’s face holds a far-off look and Emma’s heart clenches at the familiarity of it.

“Do you have anyone you’d like to write a message to? I can have one of my mother’s birds deliver it…” she offers, hesitant and uncomfortable. As much as they have found a banter within the group over their days of travel, Emma still doesn’t know the knights guarding her on her mission. They are familiar faces, ones she’s seen throughout the palace over the years, but Killian is the natural extrovert, learning about everyone he meets. She barely remembers any of their last names but she’s sure he could recall every story they’ve ever told him.

He'd make a wonderful leader. His courage, strength, bravery, sense of justice… Killian is everything a people should hope their leader to be and yet he still deems himself unworthy for some reason. Despite that, they cannot deny themselves the connection that stretches between them. She closes her eyes and hears his voice in her ear about how they make quite the team. It becomes all she can focus on and she feels a warmth fill her body, the outside world sounding softer, more far away. The sensations stay with her when she opens her eyes again and even when she manages to let a yawn slip.

Robin has a soft look on his face as their eyes meet. “Thank you,” he says. “I’ll scribe something in the morning so you’ll have it ready.”

She nods her head and settles in, back against the bale of hay. The armor, a gift from Killian a few years ago, digs into her arms and waist. She shifts unable to find a comfortable lounging position and stifles another yawn to Robin’s amusement.

“What?” she huffs.

“Nothing, nothing…” he trails off with an amused smile. “You just remind me of my son. Roland.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, he’s also quite stubborn to sleep.” He pauses. “He’s five.”

A roll of her eyes earns another chuckle from his direction but Emma concedes and lays her head down.

Sleep finds her in a light sort of way, dangling on the edge of consciousness and never letting her slip deep enough to dream. It is the sleep of someone on alert.

The creaking of the stable door is quiet for the most part but the sound still dances in Emma’s ears. She awakens, eyes blinking slowly as she tries to adjust to the darkness of the stable. Little John’s tall figure fills the only light coming into the stables from the gap in the door and Emma barely realizes, based on the shift rotation, that it’s the middle of the night.

“Whatsthematter?” Her words slur together as sleep circles the borders of her consciousness. A soft rain patters against the wood roof and she can hear the soft stomps of footsteps in mud.

“Someone’s in trouble,” Little John says in a quiet urgence. He keeps turning his head to look out the door and Emma struggles to sit up with her armor on.

“I’ll help,” she manages to say but before she can get up, Little John is outside, the stable door slamming shut behind him. The sound reverberates around the enclosed structure, immediately waking the other knights. They rush to a standing position and bombard her with questions that she doesn’t have answers to. Her mind runs blank and she only relays the short sentences they exchanged.

Robin picks up his crossbow from beside his sleeping area and slings it over his shoulder.

“You are not going after him,” Lancelot says, stepping into Robin’s path.

“Little John is like a brother to me! I’m not leaving him alone out there!”

“And going out after him, in this weather and in a town as dangerous as this, will weaken all of us.” Lancelot breathes out heavily, glancing at the stoic expression on Dorothy’s face and the crestfallen look on Will’s. “We will search at dawn. We will be able to track his footprints in the mud then. For now, rest.”

Robin stands still in a stare-off with Lancelot. Though neither one moves, their eyes dart around, a silent conversation amongst comrades, until Robin steps back in defeat and practically throws his crossbow to the ground. Will moves forward in a quick motion and brings Robin to a far corner of the stables, whispering quiet reassurances to the older gentleman.

“We’re going to find him, alright?” Will says in a whisper that just barely makes Emma’s ear.

“Come on,” Dorothy says from her other side and Emma jumps. “Get back to sleep.”

“But –”

“No buts. Sleep is the best thing you can do right now. Got it?”

Emma nods, sighing heavily. Her eyes watch the different knights amongst her. The ability to read lips is not one that she possesses but she still tries, to no avail. Her questions go unanswered as they talk to each other and not her, and exhaustion tugs at the back of her mind again.

So she lays her head on a bale of hay and clutches her dagger under the folds of her riding outfit with one ear out for the slightest noise.

The next morning, the group sets out to look for Little John. A search that very quickly becomes useless. Little John’s tracks stop five feet from the stable with no indication of where else he could have gone.

Dorothy growls in frustration. “It doesn’t make any sense. There’s nowhere he could’ve gone. His tracks stop right here. Nothing more.”

Robin mumbles to himself while he alternates his glare between Lancelot and the ground. Emma’s heart feels for the Black knight. Leadership means making the tough decisions and she knows from the look of apprehension on his face that his next plan will not be a popular one.

Expectedly, there is a fight about pausing their search to continue forward with the mission. Lancelot stands his ground though and within a few hours, they’re back on their trek, horses trotting through the forest grounds. Everyone does double duty with their eyes scanning the ground for any clues of Little John’s whereabouts with no success.

Will slows his horse to come beside Emma by the late afternoon. “How are you holding up?” he asks.

Her mind has been elsewhere the entire ride. Killian occupies most of her thoughts, a centering focus that keeps her from losing herself in despair. The way he raises a single eyebrow at her to tease, taunt, and flirt. The feeling of his arms around her waist. How he loves to use the rough skin of his stump to tickle her side. His eyes, bluer than any ocean she’d seen with depths of untold stories he’s yet to share with her.

She focuses on what will happen when she gets home. He’ll no doubt want to reprimand her for kissing a commoner in front of the guards, regardless of the fact the commoner was him, and she’ll try to ignore his pushes to talk.

But then Emma remembers how one of those guards is now missing and her “when she gets home” turns into an “if she gets home”.

If she still had her magic, she could’ve found Little John by now. She could have magicked herself to the cliffs of Segovia and home within a day. No one would have disappeared. Her kingdom wouldn’t be closing in on a nearly six-decade war with more losses than stars in the sky and already stretched incredibly thin. Killian wouldn’t have been inspired to sign up and he’d still have his hand.

Anger races through her blood and she feels her body grow warm, cheeks get hot under her fury. It all leads back to Regina. Living off of revenge against a child who was manipulated when she thought she was helping… the pain of her refusal to see the truth – see that Regina’s mother was to blame and not young Snow – led to more death and destruction than any of them thought possible. The Ogre Wars hadn’t harmed them this deeply. It’s all Regina’s fault.

Her thoughts stop in a sudden beat as Emma gasps, dropping the reins of her horse. Her hands feel hot to the touch, almost like they’re burned. Flexing her fingers does little to ease the pain and she ignores the way her hands start to shake.

She must have been subconsciously wringing the reins too hard to cause such a sensation.

Will rushes to grab the fallen reins. “Princess?” he pushes. “Are you okay?”

She clears her throat and clenches one hand in a fist while the other takes back the leather straps.

Is she okay? Absolutely not. The weight of her mission is starting to bear down on her shoulders. Little John’s disappearance has thrown her off and she already feels herself slipping away from reality. But she won’t tell Will that. Instead, she pivots the conversation and meets his eyes in a firm stare.

“I promise that I will get you all home safe. Got it?”

He hisses in disappointment. “That’s not an answer to my question.”

Emma huffs. “How are you doing?”

“I asked you first.”

“You’re not serious…”

“Deadly,” he deadpans only to wince and Emma’s sure his mind has gone to the same place as hers – Little John.

So she whispers, fiercely and filled with determination, “I promise.”

*

They stop in the middle of the forest in the late afternoon. Tension fills the air with every moment of silence until it becomes suffocating but no one does anything to break it for a long time. Little John’s disappearance weighs heavily on them all but their mission is, as much as Emma hates to say it, more important. If Killian is right and the minerals have been replenished since its last harvest a few hundred years ago, it could save hundreds if not thousands of their people. It could put this senseless war to an end once and for all.

They just needed to survive until then.

Lancelot sets his orders that this will be their camp for the night with two guards on the lookout at all times. The risk of riding in the dark after what happened to Little John has them on edge. They wanted to look their enemy in the eyes as they extinguished the life behind it.

Everyone in their group has killed before. It was a cruel casualty of war. But Emma could never relish in the suffering to come from such a death. Regina’s last minutes play on a constant repeat behind her eyelids and she cannot imagine adding anyone else to that scene.

Hunting occupies half of the group’s late afternoon hours while the other half sets up their tents. It is a tricky endeavor, as Lancelot’s orders are to establish one large makeshift tent for everyone. Safety, he had reassured her earlier.

By the time Will and Dorothy return with a number of small game hanging between each of them, a fire is being stoked in the middle of the tent and sleep schedules have been arranged. Dinner is a quiet affair with a heavy tension hanging over their heads like a storm cloud. An empty space sits between Robin and Will where Little John would have sat.

Their silent meal is broken when Robin clears his throat.

“I would like to still scribe that letter, if it’s alright,” he directs to Emma, his gaze leaving the burning fire only after he has finished speaking.

“Of course,” she answers softly. Swallowing, she looks around the group. “Does anyone else have anything they’d like to write home?” For a moment, she feels as if she’s requesting their departing words to be left for family. For what other reason would they need to write home only days after leaving?

“I reckon I have a few things I need to receive an update on,” Will says. He leans forward on the log beside her and spreads his legs apart so his knee can nudge hers in a gentle show of support. “I have a few bets I need to collect on.”

Dorothy rises to the bait even if her words sound the slightest forced. “I think you mean debts to pay.”

“I beg your pardon,” he huffs. “I am an excellent gambler.”

“Is that why your bets have paid for Ruby’s new wardrobe?” Dorothy smirks and continues, raising her sword in front of her as she examines it in the firelight. “I believe this came from a wager settled last month.”

“Oi! Ruby is a cheat and you know it!”

“I’ll be sure to mention that in my letter to her.”

The group gains volume as their teasing returns slowly. Emma’s eyes dart across the bonfire to Robin and she sends a nod of thanks. Little John’s fate still hangs heavy in the air but for a moment, they have a reprieve.

Before the fire dies down, the group settles near to write their letters.

“Who will you be writing to?” Dorothy asks Emma as she grabs her own parchment.

Lancelot grins and looks up for a moment. “Killian, of course.” Her mouth drops open in surprise at the normally quiet leader speaking up with such a taunting line. Mind focused on her own words, she half listens as Dorothy details what she plans to say to Ruby and how Lancelot is best dictating his letter to Guinevere.

Will smirks as he looks to Emma from the corner of his eye. “I’m writing to my Anastasia,” he says proudly, though his voice is low. Dorothy and Lancelot handed her their letters before taking the first watch and Will doesn’t want to disturb Robin’s heavy concentration. “I’m going to marry her when I get back.”

“You’re engaged?!”

“Oi! Don’t sound so surprised! I’m quite the catch, ya know.” Will’s grin only widens.

“Not surprised, just offended I was not invited to the wedding.”

“Well,” her companion drags out. He scratches behind his ear in a nervous tick, a movement that has her heart yearning for Killian. “We’re not engaged yet. I still have to ask her.” He clears his throat and straightens his back. “But I will, the moment we return. Well, after I ask her father.”

Emma smiles softly as she watches Will’s lovesick expression. “You truly love her,” she says, more to herself than to him. Still, Will gives her a small smile and a nod.

She feels a rush of warmth in her stomach as she listens to Will’s words of love for Anastasia, her mind wandering to Killian once again. She misses him terribly and wishes he could be beside her but she knows the best place for him is back home, preparing for their return.

Well, some of their returns.

When the scratch of Will’s quill comes to an end, Emma chances a glance at Robin before asking quietly. “Little John… did he have anyone back home?”

A sharp inhale. “Little John kept personal things to himself, mostly,” Will says regretfully. His gaze casts a burden across the fire. “I’m not the best person to ask.”

Robin keeps to himself as he starts, scratches out, and then restarts his letter to Roland. Emma wonders how close they were to the missing knight. Did they grow up together? Are their families close? Emma bids goodnight to Will before she stands from her log and walks around the fire to Robin.

“Are you telling him to be asleep by sunset?” she asks with a small lift of her lips.

Robin huffs, glancing up briefly. “If only that were enough to get him to bed on time.”

“You should tell him it is by orders of the princess.” The grin their share is fleeting but it offers a momentary reprieve from the day’s events.

“You may sit if you’d like, Princess Emma.”

Sitting presents a challenge each time she attempts it due to the soreness of her muscles. Horse riding and trekking like they have been is far from her usual activities. She leans awkwardly to the side before nearly tipping over completely as her bottom situates itself on the log. Her eyes gaze into the dwindling flames before her while Robin scrawls his name and folds the letter.

He holds the parchment out to her with a sad smile. “Little John was married once,” he says. Her fingers gingerly take the letter from his and she feels the weight of his words, her shoulders dropping beneath it. “She was a beautiful woman. Long dark hair and a smile that spelled trouble. She bewitched him from the first moment.” Robin laughs. “They had a son as well.”

Her companion’s smile drops and at that, so does Emma’s stomach. For she sees the turn of events before her eyes in the pause Robin takes. She sees the grief coloring his face and the regret that fills his eyes.

“Little John was helping me save my wife Marian when his village was attacked. He returned to an empty home.” Robin turns his gaze towards the fire and she witnesses the way his frame shrinks in on itself. “He lost his family while helping me save mine. Never once did he blame me. By all accounts, he should have. Instead, he stayed at my side and helped me raise Roland after I lost Marian.”

His breath shudders as he shakes his shoulders, a quiet sniffle as tears become harder to keep at bay. “We are the only family he has left, Princess Emma. And I will find him.”

His eyes meet hers in steely determination and Emma nearly promises him the same as she did Will. But the darkness of the night is creeping in on her fear and she worries this will be a promise she cannot keep. So she nods and sits and thinks. For the first time in a long time, she prays to any gods that are listening, to the same gods that saved Killian and brought him to her life.

*

“Three and twenty and not a suitor to show for it,” Emma mimics in a low-pitched voice. She crawls across the bed wearing only Killian’s discarded shirt and plops to a sit beside him.

Killian barely looks up from where he scribbles in his notebook, his back against the headboard and his head tilted low. “Who had said this again?”

“Grumpy.”

She crosses her arms in a huff as Killian doesn’t even attempt to hide his amusement. “Perhaps you do not have any suitors because they do not wish to sit through your terrible impersonations.”

Her next attempt at his own accent makes her tongue feel too big for her mouth and her words to be more garbled than coherent. His laughter has her fighting a smile and she only contains so much self-restraint so instead she leans over and hides her smile with his mouth.

Their lips barely separate when she whispers conspiratorially, “Or perhaps they found out the princess has been kidnapped by a pirate captain who spends his free time ravishing her in his cabin.”

“Arggg,” Killian attempts with a curled lip and narrowed eyes. He lifts his left hand and crooks his finger to look like a hook and Emma giggles wildly.

Being with him makes her feel lighter. He makes her happy.

Emma watches the port every day now that the Jewel and her captain have found a home at these docks. She attends the meetings he has with her parents to give updates on the sea front and they exchange nods as their departing promises. A sturdy rope ladder, a commission by Killian from another port, is frequently pulled from beneath her bed and draped outside her window. Apparently her string of sheets caused him too much worry. She merely rolled her eyes at the admission.

His cabin is warm and welcoming. Blankets litter not only his bed but also the window seat on the back wall facing the ocean. Pillows from their land and far away shores pile on every surface. Some map or another is typically spread across his table while the books on any available flat surface change every few weeks.

The sun streams in as a comforting orange glow each evening and wakes her with the palest yellow light in the early morns. The weight of his arm over her stomach acts as a comforting shield from her fears, both past and present.

White wooden walls of cabin feel more like home than the gray stone of the castle.

Or perhaps it is just simply him.

The reminders of his presence are spread throughout his cabin where they are absent in her lonely bed in the tower. His smell lingers on his pillows and clothes while her room suffocates her in gifted perfumes. The small, lumpy captain’s bed adheres to the curves of her body when she drowns in her large, feathered mattress.

Stresses of their ongoing war melt away when she hides under his bedcovers and has his grin to marvel at. There’s warmth in her chest and a spark at her fingertips when they’re together and she swears sometimes that being with him, loving him, is magic.

They share another kiss, brief but soft and all-consuming, before Killian sighs.

“You’re set to meet with your father at half past,” he says regretfully.

She rolls her eyes with a groan and slides off the bed. “Perhaps I do not actually have to go.”

“Perhaps you should like my head on a stake then?”

The urge to roll her eyes again at his dramatics is strong but she refrains. “My father has no interest in executing his right-hand man.”

“That’s simply because he does not know,” Killian starts. He rises to his knees and inches closer to the side of the bed where she stands. Her shirt half unbuttoned, his fingers finish the job as he presses light kisses trailing from her chest to her stomach. “That my meetings with the princess are of a more personal matter.”

The scruff of his facial hair slides against a particularly ticklish spot on her ribs and she squirms away with a giggle, nearly tripping over her sword and dagger as they clang together in a soft sound.

“I do enjoy these meetings,” she grins wickedly. “I learn so much.”

A shriek leaves her throat as Killian clambers out of bed to grab her but Emma evades his pursuit. She quickly gathers her pile of clothes and weaponry. Another soft ding fills the room.

Laughing, she says, “I really must go.” Sorting her clothes is easy enough, even with the soft dings coming from the pile. She quickly dresses. Hands cover her own as she attaches her sword to her belt, her brow furrowing as sounds continue to emanate from where it’s sheathed.

That’s never happened before.

Lips press against her neck and Emma leans back against Killian, closing her eyes briefly before another sound of metal on metal disrupts the peace of the cabin. Her eyes fly open.

*

Emma awakes with a gasp in the middle of the night as a swordfight takes place around her.

Fire long gone, the moon serves as the only lighting in the clearing. The metal of her knights’ swords glitter dangerously under the stars and Emma only barely catches glimpses of what they are fighting.

Simians, it seems. Simians that can jump and… hover overhead and away from swipes of a sword.

Flying simians.

She scrambles from her place of rest against a log and reaches for the sword at her side. At full height, she holds her weapon in front of her and examines the scene.

The simians are large beasts. Ugly and with teeth sharp enough to kill, their wings flap overhead, dragging dirt and ash from their resting site into their faces. Their claws swish through the air in severe strikes, attempting to harm or disarm, she cannot tell. She assumes both. For the moment, their group seems to be holding their own.

A screech comes from behind her and Emma ducks just in time for a simian to fly towards her head. She pops up in a flash and her sword strikes true at her attacker, a wing sliced clean off. The simian cries in anger as it tries to control its flight before falling to the ground. From there, it makes its way towards her on its paws and bares its teeth threateningly. Her sword arches through the air only for another simian to come from above and reach for her sword with its claws.

“Get out of the way!” Dorothy yells and blocks the flying simian from Emma’s side. The grounded simian sees the moment of opportunity, hunches back on its legs, and pounces right at Emma.

Instinct takes over and before Emma even realizes it, her sword is in front of her and the simian impales itself.

Her eyes widen in horror. Regina’s skin melting off her face haunted Emma’s dream. The way her dark eyes turned completely black as life left them. The gurgling as blood overflowed her insides and leaked from the corners of her lips.

Emma feels like she is back in the tower as the simian garbles over blood, its wailing fading moment by moment. Red stains its teeth and its wing flaps haphazardly behind it before it stills. She stares for a moment at unseeing eyes before the simian’s head drops forward and its wing slackens.

Nausea threatens to take over her senses and guilt churns low in her gut but a humanly grunt from behind her snaps her back into action. She quickly but gently lowers her sword and shakes the simian off of the blade. She doesn’t even wait for the thump of its body hitting the ground before Emma turns to help.

The world stops momentarily as she realizes she may be too late.

The simian Dorothy directed away from her now easily evades the knight’s strong sword strokes, flying above her before making quick strikes at her head and back. Dorothy yells, one hand reaching for her head as a simian darts back with a wad of her hair in its mouth, skin from her scalp hanging from one end. She isn’t fast enough to defend herself as the simian barely takes a moment before darting back down again, claws poised and sinking quickly into her back, knocking her forward in the same breath its mouth comes down on her neck.

Lancelot struggles against two simians, his armor dented and breaking off of his body with each attack. His sword makes a wide arch in the air, too wide to correct before the simians come down on him, biting each of his arms as their claws dig into his thighs. He throws his head back as he yells, knees buckling under the pain.

Robin clutches his side, blood seeping into his shirt as he swings his sword with his non-dominant hand. It’s awkward and lacking strength and the simian he’s been fighting takes the chance to strike again.

She sees it the moment before she can move and her stomach turns when she realizes she’s not fast enough. Her throat catches in her throat as the simian’s jaw bears down on his shoulder and Robin cries out in agony.

“Get her out of here!” Lancelot manages through gritted teeth.

The world moves in slow motion as her head turns towards him before she feels her arm jerked in a different direction. A loud rush pulses through her ears and black dots her vision. She immediately resists the force on her body and pulls her arm back towards her.

“Move, damn it!” It takes a moment but the pained voice yelling at her voice belongs to Will. She stares at the blood dripping down his temple as he pulls her shocked body away from the scene as quickly and discretely as possible.

A single simian attempts to follow but is thwarted by Will’s swordsmanship. He moves like around the woods like he walks on air, the ease in which he maneuvers reminds of her Killian’s lithe form. The simian dodges strikes and Emma watches helplessly, her sword barely held by her fingertips as she presses her back against a nearby tree. She wishes the simian would be like the one she defeated at camp. She wishes that it would become too confident and turn into a target easy to disarm. If Killian were here, he wouldn’t need her wishing.

Will’s feet dance across the leaves of the forest floor as he eyes the simian. One moment, two moments, then he makes a decisive slice. Will makes quick work of one of its wings before impaling it, exactly as she’d done at camp.

He stares at the simian for a brief moment, eyebrows furrowed in thought, before he turns towards Emma and grabs her bicep to pull her along. “Let’s go.”

“But,” she starts, head turning back towards camp where more simians fly under the moonlight. It’s hard to see anything else in the darkness. “But what about them? We can’t just leave them.”

“You are the priority, Princess,” Will says, high on alert. “You were their priority. Getting you away, safely, will mean they’ve done their job well.”

“I won’t let them die for me,” she protests even as her feet follow his.

Will jerks them to a stop, his eyes red and narrowed in anger. “And what good would their death do if you get yourself killed as well?”

“They might not be dead.”

“We all will be if you return.” Grief blankets her body in a cold embrace and her mouth drops open though no words come out. Will sighs, eyes looking around for danger, before stepping closer. “Don’t let them die in vain. Let’s go.”

Emma follows at his side numbly and, she realizes with a shiver, death follows her.