#look at the mixture of strength and command and intensity and understanding in his expression

[wildsaltair]

on my knees begging him to give me some commands and then immediately enforce them

[dyxtd21]

Shockwerther aesthetic moodboard!!

Shockwerther:

Shockwerther is a hulking, unyielding force among the Decepticorns, with a design that embodies strength and timelessness. His body is crafted from smooth, hardened caramel that gleams with a golden sheen, giving him an almost statuesque appearance. The edges of his caramel exterior are slightly darker, as if seared by intense heat, adding a sense of wear and durability. Embedded in his form are veins of glossy butterscotch, which occasionally glow faintly, especially when he’s agitated or powering up. His overall silhouette is blocky and imposing, with a solid, unbreakable presence that commands respect and a subtle fear. Unlike the more ornate designs of Starcream or the layered richness of Megatwix, Shockwerther’s look is simple yet undeniably intimidating, like a timeless candy no one dares to challenge.

Personality-wise, Shockwerther is as hard and unyielding as his caramelized exterior. He’s a figure of quiet authority, preferring action over words, and his deep, resonant voice carries an almost hypnotic quality that leaves an impression when he does speak. He doesn’t waste time with unnecessary embellishments—every movement, every decision, is deliberate and purposeful. Shockwerther sees himself as the immovable foundation of the Decepticorns, the unshakable rock upon which Megatwix’s leadership is built. While he’s entirely loyal to Megatwix, his loyalty isn’t born of blind obedience but of a shared belief in strength, order, and purpose. He respects Megatwix as a leader who values power and reliability over theatrics, and the two share a bond forged in mutual understanding.

Shockwerther’s interactions with Starcream are laced with a mixture of disdain and disinterest. To Shockwerther, Starcream is all sugar and no substance, a fragile confection that crumbles under pressure. While he finds Starcream’s schemes and antics tiresome, he rarely bothers to confront them directly, as he sees Starcream as more of a nuisance than an actual threat. On the rare occasions when Starcream pushes too far, Shockwerther will respond with an almost terrifying calmness, his deep voice cutting through the drama like a knife through molten caramel. A simple phrase like, “Enough of your sweetness, Starcream. It’s cloying,” is enough to silence the room and leave Starcream fuming but subdued.

With Soundwafer, Shockwerther shares a quiet but powerful respect. The two work well together, both valuing efficiency and order, though their approaches differ. While Soundwafer operates with precise calculations, Shockwerther relies on brute force and instinct, making them complementary in their roles within the Decepticorns. They don’t need to exchange many words to understand each other, often communicating through brief glances or subtle nods. Shockwerther appreciates Soundwafer’s cool demeanour, seeing it as a reflection of his own steady resolve.

Though Shockwerther rarely expresses personal sentiments, he harbors a protective instinct toward the Decepticorns as a whole, viewing himself as their silent guardian. This extends even to the more reckless or dramatic members of the group, though he would never admit it openly. His caramelized exterior symbolizes his hardened personality, but beneath it lies a core of molten butterscotch—a reminder that while he is unyielding on the surface, there’s a warmth and sense of duty driving his actions.

In battle, Shockwerther is a relentless force. His hardened caramel body can withstand extreme heat and pressure, and his butterscotch veins allow him to release bursts of molten energy in devastating waves. He moves slower than some of the others, but his deliberate pace only adds to his intimidating presence. Shockwerther is the Decepticorns’ tank, their anchor, and their enforcer, ensuring that anyone who dares challenge Megatwix’s reign is met with an unbreakable wall of caramelized might.

[south-of-heaven]

She made my baby cry || Becky Lynch x Reader x Seth Rollins

Summary: Becky goes off on Trish during a press conference in Saudi Arabia after that incident on RAW. Part two of My baby

The tension in the air was palpable as the press conference in Saudi Arabia commenced. The incident on RAW a few weeks back involving Trish Stratus and Becky Lynch had left a sour taste in everyone's mouths. The fiery exchange between the two had ignited a feud that was fueled by genuine anger and frustration.

As the conference started, Becky took the stage, her presence commanding attention. The fire in her eyes was unmistakable as she held the microphone in her hand. The room fell silent, anticipation hanging heavy in the air.

"The Man has come around to Jeddah!" Becky's voice cut through the silence, her Irish accent adding a distinctive edge to her words. She continued her monologue, explaining Trish's backstabbing tendencies before really starting to go off on her.

"But you know, I understand this business. I've lived and breathed it, fought and bled for it. My partners, Seth Freaking Rollins and Y/N Y/L/N both understand this business!"

Beside the stage, you and Seth watched, your little one, Roux, in your arms. Her wide eyes were fixated on her mom, the familiar voice capturing her attention.

"But my baby," Becky's voice wavered slightly, a hint of vulnerability breaking through her fierce exterior. "My baby doesn't understand this business, and she made my baby cry."

Becky's anger radiated as she continued, her emotions raw and unfiltered. "Trish Stratus, they call you the queen of the attitude era? Well, let me tell you something, Trish. I'm going to slap the attitude out of you tomorrow night."

The words hung in the air, a declaration of war from a mother who had fiercely protected her own. As Becky stepped down from the stage, the room erupted in murmurs and applause, the intensity of her words resonating with everyone present.

You and Seth made your way to her side as she walked offstage. The three of you formed a tight circle, arms wrapping around each other in a show of unity and support. Becky's fiery gaze softened as her eyes met yours, a mixture of determination and vulnerability in her expression.

"You were amazing up there," you whispered, your voice filled with pride and love.

Seth nodded in agreement, his hand resting on Becky's shoulder. "Yeah, you let it all out. You let the world know what kind of person she really is."

Becky's lips curved into a small smile, her shoulders relaxing under the weight of her emotions. With a deep breath, she let out a sigh, as if releasing the pent-up tension that had been building within her.

And then, her gaze shifted to Roux, your precious little one nestled in your arms. A look of pure adoration crossed Becky's face as she reached out, her arms eager to hold her baby girl. You passed Roux to her, their bond evident in the gentleness of the exchange.

As Becky held Roux close, her fierce determination softened into a tenderness that only a mother could offer. In that moment, surrounded by the people she loved most, Becky Lynch found solace and strength in the arms of her family.

[threegoldfish-a]

Just when Steven thought he was getting somewhere - that this man, Ben, actually enjoyed talking to him - he... backed away. Sure, the other was subtle about it, in one way at least, but he was also so very much over-the-top obvious that even good-soul Steven could see it, the sudden hesitation on the man's features as he told about being much more into the Victorian era as well as the Industrial Revolution.

Thing is, Steven could understand that - part of him does. And what Ben had just said - people these days thing we need superpowers or magic or something to change everything while forgetting how much normal individuals have changed everything - actually hits home for him too, the whole fact that everything seems to be explained with some kind of inhuman strength rather than very human skills.

"Y-yeah, you're right with that, though - I... I agree that we humans have managed to do a lot of things without any... stuff involved!" Swallowing, expression slipping into a mixture of concern and slight disappointment, perhaps, Steven watches Ben make his way through the hall, away from everything Egyptian, bringing distance between them. ---That now makes Steven feel sad, all of a sudden, and intensely self-conscious; Did he say something wrong? Oh god, it was him rambling, right? He'd slipped too far into his repertoire of knowledge and spilled too much at once, and now he has reached that point where listeners needed to come up with some sort of excuse to get away from him...

"---Not your fault, Steven. I don't understand this guy's behavior either." And Marc sounds sincere inside his mind. Yet Steven still clears his throat, lifts a hand as if wanting to ask the other to wait for a moment, but it stops half-way to hover awkwardly in front of his chest.

"I-I'm sorry, Mister... Ben, for uh --- I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable!" A nervous chuckle, with Steven pulling his hand back to curl it against the center of his chest. "S-sorry, sorry, my apologies, I sometimes get a bit... enthusiastic---"

"Steven. Stop. It's alright. He is behaving odd; Let's clock out for the day, go home and have something to eat. Watch a documentary?" Marc's voice indicates that he's now very much in 'keeping Steven calm'-mode, all soft and gentle yet stern in hopes to make the other move and pull through with it. Slightly commanding, but in a kind way - what Steven needs to hear, usually.

But Steven keeps wondering, takes a breath, and then finally glances to the side before he mutters under his breath.

"...Keep messing things up." It's directed at himself, quiet and almost a whisper... and it is also partially directed at Marc. "Trying, trying, and yet whatever I do---"

"Precioso." Firm, collected. "---Marc's right. Not your fault. You are doing well."

Steven shakes his head, then sighs, bringing a hand up to brush through his hair as he looks at the statue of Anubis, just to focus on something. A second pases, then his gaze flicks back over to the random man, apologetic, accompanied by a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

Yeah, perhaps Steven should stop for today. He'd already been on edge before, with his coworkers being idiots, him hopelessly worked from doing overtime a few days in a row, and then Khonshu's probably also waiting for them...

"...S-sorry again. Have a... ---have a good night."

Nodding, waving a very awkward hand at Ben now, Steven clears his throat and turns around... fiddling with his shirt. Distracting himself.

If Q was totally honest, he knew very little about Egyptian dieties. He knew that Marcus had gotten into Greek and Roman mythology recently because of some media based on The Odyssey, but the idea of getting to Steven talk about something new to them was intoxicating. Q was so often the smartest person in the room - since he only tended to be in a room if he was invited for expertise - that he loved listening to someone else's teachings.

Sure, he would never be able to apply this data to his work, but wasn't that part of learning to be more human?

"You never know - Steven might be a really good name for a God. From the Greek, I think? Something like Crown. Stephanos?" He was repeating comments Marcus was making, though why Marcus had this information, Q didn't actually know. "Marcus is from a god too - supposedly. From the Roman God Mars." Q paused, suddenly realising that Marcus was up to something instead of just happily sharing information.

He let out a slightly nervous laugh and decided to change the topic. "Time travel might be a way to tell, though I can't imagine the people with that technology would be too eager for us to use it to go on adventures." Q giggled, as though a man he had known for a handful of minutes would have any desire to do such a bizarre escapade.

He turned around to look at Steven and raised an eyebrow, playful. "Would you kick me out if I told you that my favourite part of the museum is actually the area on the Victorians and the Industrial Revolution?" He asked in as serious of a tone as he could manage.

"I work in pretty much everything tech-wise, so understanding the times of change... How humans keep finding new ways to change the world is interesting." Q backed away, out of the Egyptian exhibit of the museum. "People these days think we need superpowers or magic or something to change everything while forgetting how much 'normal' individuals have changed everything."

He glanced over his shoulder out of habit, more to make sure he didn't walk into anyone (despite there being nobody else there), and then smiled back at Steven. "I'll get out of your way. Thanks for listening to my nonsense." He was wary of what Marcus was up to, unwilling for this man to be some kind of target.

[kim-miri]

HALF(have a little fun) pt. vii

→ one | two | three | four | five | six

→ Sayomi Zoldyck is the eldest child and twin sister to Illumi, of the renowned Zoldyck family of assassins. At the age of ten she’s taken away to Meteor City by her mother, Kikyo Zoldyck, unbeknownst to the rest of the family, as well as newborn Killua, and left to fend for herself. This is the story of the long-lost Zoldyck and those she becomes acquainted with, all while she just wants to have a little fun.

» part seven / ?

» pairing: eventually - chrollo x oc x feat. hisoka

» warnings: swearing, blood/violence

» a/n: helloo~ this is my first write ever, and it’ll probably be a pretty long series. I’m also balancing school and a part-time job so forgive me for slow updates! If you’re reading this, thank you so much for showing interest and please leave comments below with your inputs!

» word count: 4,732

☾vii. part vii: start of something new

Waking up in a warm, quiet room 199 floors from the ground at Heaven’s Arena, Sayomi sat up in her bed, blinking the sleep from her eyes.

She had slept more soundly than she had in a while, between Meteor City and the watching eyes of the Mafia. 

But maybe it was the faint, earthy scent that Kite had left behind, or perhaps it was the fact that Sayomi was now free to live on her own in one of the most populated cities in the world. She decided it was the latter this time around.

A good night’s sleep had proved to resolve the conflicting thoughts in her head, as Sayomi settled that Kite was a good friend, and would never be anything more.

In this way, she was able to accept the reality that there had never been anything more than friendly interactions between them, and it would stay that way.

In all honesty, she needed a teacher if she was going to make a life out of fighting at Heaven’s Arena. And judging by the immense aura Kite had surrounding him even while he was resting, she knew he outclassed her in nen abilities.

As of now her nen acted as her last line of defense, still being rather inconsistent and hard to control. Though she had improved a great deal with her independent training in Meteor City, she still had a lot to learn about the potentials of her abilities. 

Stretching out her limbs and rising from bed, Sayomi got ready for the day ahead of her.

☾vii.

Kite and his student were waiting for Sayomi on the 60th floor, as Stick Dinner had his 60s match later today.

The three would train in the gym on this floor as they waited for Stick’s match to come around. It was rather empty because the 60th floor was merely a transitioning floor where contestants would come and go.

Kite started his two students off with a basic nen introduction, explaining the four major principles: Ten, Zetsu, Ren, and Hatsu. 

Sayomi had already learned all about nen and its history back when she was around 4 years old alongside Illumi. Kite was aware of this as well but needed to explain the basics to Stick.

A long lecture and one Water Divination Test later, and Stick was now educated of his nen abilities and excited to learn more.

They had now moved onto attempting to recognize Stick’s hatsu, which would become his own personal nen ability. 

Sayomi’s own hatsu was already established, being her hypnotic spell and corpse control. And because she had only truly used it while fighting for her life in Meteor City, she still had significant difficulties with using her power.

Kite was also aware of Sayomi’s hatsu from the days he’d used to visit Kukuroo Mountain. He remembered Sayomi demonstrating her power on weak intruders and aggressive animals, their deceased corpses moving like puppets at her command.

Though he’d never say it out loud, it was quite terrifying.

For this exact reason, Kite had apologetically said Sayomi should wait until she was free to use nen in the 200s battles to train her hatsu. It was just too dangerous to practice for the purpose of training.

Therefore, instead of practicing her hatsu like Stick, Sayomi was put to work training her ren. She would have to maintain it for an hour today, and Kite mentioned she would eventually progress to longer durations of time.

Sayomi’s ren was intense, she had to stay 10 feet away from anyone else to make sure she didn’t affect them. Her body was surrounded in a malicious, deep purple shroud of energy, contrasting with Kite’s pure white aura.

☾vii.

Half an hour had passed with Kite’s training, said man working with Stick to strengthen his hatsu while Sayomi stood concentrated on maintaining her ren.

As of now, she was still fine, just rather bored with the method of training.

She opted to watch the on-going fights on the monitor above her instead of staring at the wall in front of her. However, this proved to be even worse, as the contestants she watched were all terribly amateur. 

Sighing when she saw a contestant trip over his own feet on the monitor, she had caught Kite’s attention. “Not tired yet?”

Sayomi looked to Kite with a guilt-ridden expression. “Ah, not yet, but that’s not why I… nevermind. Sorry!”

Kite let out a rather short laugh at her frantic apology, walking just outside her ren aura to stand in front of her.

“No need to apologize. This exercise is meant to be a drag, it trains not only strengthening your nen, but also patience and putting mind over body. Looks like…  you have about 20 minutes left, keep it up!”

Sayomi smiled weakly at Kite’s attempt at encouragement. He was a blunt person by nature so to anyone else his words probably came across as sarcastic, but Sayomi recognized his sincerity. 

She thanked him with a short smile.

Around the 50 minute mark, Sayomi was finally breaking out a sweat, her arms and legs had actually been burning for a while now, but she’d been holding in any signs of weakness.

She was getting a little dizzy now, putting more force into her legs in order to stay upright and not swaying along with the room in front of her.

“Annnd time. Sayomi your hour’s up.”

Sayomi’s ren faded as she fell back to lean against the wall for support. 

Damn, I must be out of shape or something. 

Kite stepped over to where Sayomi stood trying to catch her breath. “Not as easy as you thought?”

She looked up with a sneer. “I’m just getting started, gimme a week and I’ll pass you up.”

Kite’s eyes were now filled with amusement. Having sent Stick off to standby for his match, he took a seat in front of Sayomi, motioning for her to do the same.

Sayomi sat cross-legged with her head resting against the wall, her eyes closed as she attempted to regenerate her aura.

“What’s your record anyway?”

Kite looked across at the exhausted girl. “About a day.”

“A DAY?!” Sayomi’s eyes flew open at Kite’s response, clearly having underestimated her instructor.

He only nodded in return, wishing to change the subject off of himself. “If I may ask... what exactly is the eldest daughter of the Zoldyck family doing at a place like Heaven’s Arena?”

There was the question. She was surprised he hadn’t asked her earlier.

To lie or not to lie… 

“My parents sent me here as a test of strength. I’m not allowed back until I reach the very top.” Sayomi lied through her teeth, not wanting to tell Kite about her banishment.

That should convince him.

“The very top? Ah, so they wish for you to become a floor master. I see... well with the right training, you can surely get to that point perhaps within a few years?” Kite looked at Sayomi expectantly.

A few years? What the hell even is a ‘floor master’? 

With a measly lie, Sayomi had screwed herself over. She had originally intended in making a few million jenny by cruising through the 100s and getting her own room. But with this whole floor master thing, she could already sense that her future at Heaven’s Arena would become much more complex.

The title does sound pretty cool though… maybe I’ll just go along with the flow for now.

“Right! Haha… they want me to become a floor master. So you think you’ll be able to help me get there?”

Kite looked deep in thought. Did I say something wrong? 

Meeting Sayomi’s eyes once again, he spoke. “On second thought Sayomi… I’ve made a promise to train Stick Dinner, and with the danger of your nen abilities, I don’t think I can do you any good as an instructor.”

She was about to take back her words and say becoming a floor master was unnecessary, but he cut her off.

“However, I just realized something that I should’ve thought of before. I’m not sure how you’d get along, but there is someone with more experience than me at Heaven’s Arena.”

Sayomi looked up, interested in his proposal.

Noticing her apparent interest, Kite continued, “I happen to owe him a favor as well, because I’ve been staying in his room on the 200th floor with Stick. He’s… a rather interesting person, and he finds enjoyment in fighting powerful individuals. But nevermind his personality, I think you would benefit greatly from his experience both with nen and Heaven’s Arena, more than I could ever do for you.”

Kite examined Sayomi’s expression, it seemed to be a mixture of uncertainty and curiosity.

“I’m not proposing you make a decision right away, as he’ll actually be absent for some time… but I recommend you consider it as a possibility.”

In her mind, Sayomi was unsure of what to think about this mysterious acquaintance of Kite, but in her heart and soul, there was an undeniable hunger for more power and more recognition. If she were to become a floor master, her name would surely spread throughout Yorknew City and perhaps even reach her parents. 

“When will he return?”

Kite smiled at her sign of interest in his offer. He knew she would be able to handle his colleague’s eccentric personality, and from there she would only have room to grow even stronger.

“To be honest, I’m not entirely sure. He’s a very spontaneous man, and the last time I saw him he mentioned traveling around the world to find his next rival.”

Sayomi thought about her current options. 

“I understand… training my nen would most likely require the death of victims, which you would never allow, but without improving my nen I would seemingly get destroyed in the 200s matches. Right?”

Kite took a moment to consider her words. “Yes, more or less.”

Sayomi nodded in return. “So then supposedly… this acquaintance of yours would be willing to train my nen even if it would mean others will die?”

“Precisely.” Kite grimaced at her blunt deduction of his words.

Sayomi threw her arms back, resting her hands behind her head. “Well alright then! Until this friend of yours gets back I guess I’ll just see how far I can get without using my nen.”

“Acquaintance. But yes, I suppose fighting without your nen until he gets back would be a good use of time.” 

☾vii.

Sayomi and Kite headed to the stands of the arena after wrapping up their conversation. Kite’s student was up for the next match, leaving the two childhood friends to watch amongst the crowd.

Stick’s match went smoothly, he had outsmarted his opponent by anticipating each of his attacks, and in the end all he had left was to tire him out enough to land the finishing blow.

He was now qualified to continue on to the 70s, while Sayomi’s fight would be the next day.

☾vii.

Kite stood leaning against the back wall of the 60th floor arena, his eyes focused on the light-footed girl currently playing around with her opponent in the ring. 

He felt almost a sense of pride, watching the little Zoldyck girl who had used to be too shy as to even raise her voice, now dancing around in the illuminated arena full of confidence.

She was taking her time with the unworthy opponent who stood across from her. Under normal circumstances, Kite would have been infuriated with Sayomi’s disrespectful actions, but this time it was much different.

Her opponent had spent the final minutes before their match catcalling and spilling other obscene words towards Sayomi. Kite had moved to step in between the two contestants, ready to punch the man’s teeth in, but Sayomi had given him a look so full of malice he knew to hold back.

She was waiting to absolutely ruin her opponent in the ring.

So when he saw Sayomi taking her sweet time and making a fool out of the man who’d previously disrespected her, Kite only smirked in satisfaction from a distance.

Sayomi you’ve been through a lot, haven’t you… all this anger and hatred coursing through your aura. 

In the arena, Sayomi brought a swift heel down on her opponent's hand. An attack that was worth no points but only for the purpose of causing pain.

Pain… who hurt you Sayomi? What ever happened to the girl who’d cried when she accidentally swatted a butterfly?

Kite experienced a flurry of conflicting emotions as he watched Sayomi torture and eventually knock down her opponent. 

He was worried about her emotional health, knowing for sure now that she had experienced something so tragic and crucial it’d turned her pure aura a 180 degree turn into bloodlust and malice.

However, he was glad to know one thing was for sure. 

She would definitely survive and benefit from his unstable colleague’s training, for now he realized they were so similar it was almost as if they were the same person. 

Or perhaps two halves of a whole.

☾vii.

1 year later

It was the weekend and Sayomi was currently on an off day in between fights.

In the year that had passed with her progressing through Heaven’s Arena, Sayomi was now a single fight away from the 200s.

Admiring the view from Kite’s old room on the 199th floor, she smiled to herself. 200s at last.

The truth was that Sayomi had a room of her own now, being well into the 100s. However she’d already been so accustomed to using Kite’s room that she’d convinced him into switching rooms with her.

Now that all three of them had rooms of their own, the borrowed room on the 200th floor was empty once again, waiting for the return of its owner.

Sayomi had just finished combat training with Kite and Stick, still unable to use her nen because of the possible consequences. 

As she gazed longer out the window in front of her, she started to see her reflection cast in the clear glass, and soon it was all she saw.

Who am I?

Staring back at her, the reflection she saw in the window was much different than she’d expected. Her violet eyes were dull, emotionless, and the passion that had once lit up her soul was now gone, replaced with a worn out ghost of who she used to be.

This was all it took to make Sayomi forget about all she had done to make it to where she was now. This, being her reminiscent thoughts about the family that had ditched her.

She may have declared to herself millions of times that she was indeed her own person now, but the lingering desire to be loved once again forced her start over every single time.

She needed someone to rely on, though she’d never admit it. It was her constant overthinking that she would only become a burden to those who cared about her that stopped her from seeking support in others. Her family had left her insecure and broken, desperate for someone else’s attention.

Let’s see… If Illumi and I are turning 19 this year, that means… Killua will be 9. 

9 years old, huh… 

I wonder if he still looks like me? God, if I were with him I think I’d spend every last jenny just to see that smile one more time.

...I hope you’re hanging in there Killua. 

Just wait a little bit longer, and I promise I’ll come save you.

Forgive me I just need more time to be able to face everyone again.

☾vii.

Watching the sunset over Yorknew City from his new room on the 199th floor, Kite was currently typing back a response to a rather unclear message he’d received from his traveling colleague.

No matter how many times he’d read it, he just couldn’t decipher the exact reason or message behind the text he had received. 

Staring at it with a skeptical expression, he read it once more:

Isn’t it quite amusing how fate plays out sometimes? 

I’ve arrived in the city and can’t wait to meet this student of yours, as it seems I’ve already partially met her without even realizing it. 

I can’t wait to start training with her. ♥️

Kite let out an exasperated sigh.

What does he mean by ‘I’ve already partially met her’? I swear he’s always so ambiguous with his words. 

Damn, what an exhausting guy.

☾vii.

Today was the day of Sayomi’s fight that would determine whether she’d advance into the 200s. That meant it was also the last day Sayomi would fight without her nen and weapons.

However, her day was about to get much more eventful than a promotion into the 200s. 

Kite’s acquaintance had arrived in the city the other day, and after a short visit to a friend, he would make it back to Heaven’s Arena later today to meet his new student.

Kite had no knowledge about this part, as all he was told was that he had arrived in the city.

Back in the 199th floor arena, Sayomi had arrived early, taking her time to stretch and enjoy the time left before her final fistfight.

Kite stood alongside Sayomi in the mostly empty waiting room, it would be his last day with his childhood friend, at least without an excuse to spend time with her.

Once she was in the 200s, Kite wouldn’t be able to do much for her, as he had his own student to manage.

He stared sympathetically at the little Zoldyck girl from his childhood. She had grown into a relentless fighter, leaving no time to enjoy living her life during her prime years.

All he could now was hope that his assumptions about his colleague were right, in that he would not only provide Sayomi with the right training, but also fun and other things kids of her age should be doing.

Sayomi finished her preparations well before the scheduled time of the fight, leaving the two with time to talk and reminisce about the old days.  

They’d also talked briefly about Sayomi’s new instructor. Kite explained how he’d finally arrived in the city the other day, coming back from seeking out the most powerful assassins and hunters to challenge in fights to the death.

Sayomi was delighted at this, getting a feeling that this mysterious instructor would put up a solid fight against her while they trained. “You said he was on the 200th floor, right? Has he not been able to defeat a floormaster yet?”

Kite raised his eyebrows at her question. “Ah… no, not yet. But I believe that’s because he’s constantly sidetracked with trying to find his ‘perfect rival’.” 

Sayomi bit the inside of her cheek, confused. “Hmm but if he’s back now… does that mean he found someone worthy on his trip?”

Kite nodded at this. “Yes, I believe so. It’s either he’s satisfied with the amount of people he’s massacred, or he’s found a formidable opponent he knows he can come back and fight at a later time.”

“I see… he sounds… rather interesting.” Sayomi was actually a bit excited, it’d been a while since she was to face someone of such a high reputation.

Beside her, Kite had taken notice of the slight change in Sayomi’s aura. It seems I predicted correctly, she’ll get along just fine.

☾vii.

“Our next fight decides who moves on to the 200th floor. We have Ichihiro versus Sayomi! At this time, choose your side and place your bets!”

Under the spotlights, Sayomi stood with her hands resting behind her head. Her eyes remained closed, she seemed to be taking the last minutes to relax.

“The bets are in! Looks like today’s match is in favor of Sayomi Zoldyck!”

Ichihiro let out a scoff, mocking his opponent who, in his eyes, seemed overconfident to the point where she didn’t even need to look at him. “Are you nice and relaxed over there, girl? I’ll tell you now you’re gonna regret facing me.”

Sayomi disregarded her opponent's words. In reality, she was worried, and anyone who could see her aura could notice this as well. 

Kite turned his head at Sayomi’s restlessness. What is she so tense for?

Sayomi tightened her grip around her other hand. Inside her head, she tried to calm the exhilaration that stemmed as a result of her final match without weapons. She couldn’t wait to finally stand on the 200th floor.

In other words, Sayomi wasn’t afraid, or intimidated by her opponent. She was worried for him.

God damn… if I don’t calm down I might accidentally kill the guy. 

The adrenaline rushing through her was threatening to spike over, which would cause her to lose control and flip her assassin switch on.

Relax, Sayomi.

“Fighters ready? Following the 100s rules there will be no time limit and fighters will fight until a TKO by 10 points or a KO.”

Sayomi opened her eyes, moving to stand upright as she stared at her opponent.

“The winner will move onto the 200th floor. Fight!”

Ichihiro held back from making the first move. He had reviewed Sayomi’s last fight and seen her strategy of using her opponent’s force against them. 

Sayomi raised an eyebrow at his lack of movement.

Not gonna move, huh? So you think you’re smart.

She took off with steps faster than the average eye could see.

I guess I’ll just have to come to you then.

With a flexible left leg, Sayomi lifted her heel above her opponent's head, slamming it straight into the side of the unexpecting man’s face with a roundhouse kick.

Ichihiro stumbled to the side gasping, spitting out blood from his now split gums.

He raised his head ready to curse out the teen, but all he saw was white.

Sayomi had met the man’s face with a solid left foot, sending him backwards onto the ground with a cry of pain.

Ichihiro was clutching his bloody face now, unable to recover in time for yet another left swing kick, this time to the side.

From far back against the wall, Kite watched with a surprised expression on his face.

She’s holding back quite a bit. Only using her left leg…

A few more solid kicks to the ribs and Sayomi halted her movements as if on command. Turning to the baffled referee, she asked, “TKO by 10 points right?”

“Ah, r-right.” 

Shaking out of his apparent shock at the one-sidedness of the match, the referee raised a flag. “Winner by TKO. Sayomi Zoldyck!”

The crowd cheered as they could now collect their money from the bets they’d made.

With a small wave to Kite at the back of the stands, Sayomi exited the arena with light steps.

She was proud of herself for restraining her bloodlust.

☾vii.

That night Sayomi treated Stick and Kite to dinner on Heaven’s Arena’s 200th floor diner. 

It was a congratulatory dinner, as Sayomi would now be moving on to training her nen, but it was also one of sentimental feelings. The group of three had become close friends within the year they’d spent together training at Heaven’s Arena.

So although no one addressed the fact that the group of three was to become a group of two after today, everyone shared a bit of the sorrow in their hearts as the evening soon came to an end.

The three parted ways around 9, Kite wishing the best to Sayomi on the 200th floor. It wasn’t like they’d never see each other again, they were only a floor apart after all.

However, without the excuse of training or a coincidental passing by, the childhood friends knew that they most likely wouldn’t be seeing each other for a while. 

☾vii.

Sayomi let out a heavy sigh as she walked alone down the hallway of doors to her room.

Releasing her hair from its taught ponytail, Sayomi ran a lazy hand down her face. 

Can a day get any longer? All I wanna do now is take a nice, warm shower… and then sleep in till noon.

Arriving in front of her door at last, Sayomi reached into her pockets for her room key. Sliding the key into the lock, she frowned when she found the door to be unlocked.

Strange… I don’t think I’ve ever forgotten to lock the door before. Maybe because I was too excited?

Sayomi shrugged, speculating she’d probably forgotten to lock the door out of the rush to get ready in the morning.

Swinging the door open without another thought, Sayomi moved to take a step further into her room when a cold chill ran down her spine.

What… is… this devilish aura?

She was on full alert now, awakening her own aura to try and ward off her intruder.

In the darkness of her room, she could make out a faint silhouette surrounded by the deep purple, murderous aura she’d felt earlier.

“Who… are you? What are you doing in my room?” Though she’d sworn her voice was steady, there was a hint of uncertainty as the intruder’s aura became more intense.

The intruder turned to face Sayomi in the darkness. “Hm? Ah, you’ve finally returned… I’ve been most awaiting your presence, Sayomi Zoldyck.”

The man took exaggeratingly slow steps towards her, and Sayomi noticed he walked almost completely on his toes. Almost like he was walking across a tightrope.

She squinted through the darkness, perplexed at the stranger knowing her name. Her mind screamed at her to fight, run, do something, but her feet remained frozen in place as the man’s figure slowly illuminated with the dim lights of the hallway.

The man was considerably tall, though he was also wearing heels, an interesting feat. His brilliant red hair was styled as if he’d been caught in a windstorm, framing an all too pale face with distinct face paint decorating either cheek: a star on the left and a teardrop on the right.

In a way, he was handsome.

This crossed Sayomi’s mind as well, however she’d mentally slapped herself as she was brought back into the reality of the situation. 

“How do you know my name?” Sayomi was on guard, ready to either attack or run on a moment’s notice.

The man only laughed, his pale lips turning upwards in a wide smile as he looked Sayomi over from head to toe.

“Oh darling, you mean you haven’t caught on to the situation yet?”

A step closer and the man’s full frame was now in front of Sayomi to see in all his glory. Broad shoulders, chiseled, toned biceps, a tiny waist, and proportions to die for.

Get a grip, he just broke into your room.

In her flustered state, both from confusion and the rather attractive man towering over her, Sayomi suddenly felt as though she’d forgotten how to speak.

Her mouth opened and closed without sound, concentrated entirely on the man in front of her.

Sayomi’s frazzled state seemed to add on to man’s already overflowing confidence as he let out another brief laugh before crossing his arms. 

“It seems as though Kite has yet to tell you anything about my arrival.” He frowned before continuing, “Well, I suppose you’ll find out all about me in no time, I’m your new trainer after all.”

Sayomi eyes widened at his words. Of course, Kite said he was arriving soon, I totally forgot!

“Ah… well in that case… nice to meet you?”

Her new trainer smirked at her hesitation. “I have to say, I didn’t expect you to be so visually appealing, darling. It seems Kite decided to keep your beauty from me for as long as he could, that sly bastard.”

Sayomi felt her face heat up in a mad blush. No one had ever called her such things, as she was accustomed to words like vicious or murderous. 

Sayomi failed to get the words out of her mouth once again, effectively fazed by the man’s comments.

Said man ran a slender hand through his hair, laughing once again at his undeniable effect on the young assassin.

Reaching out ever so slowly, he grazed his knuckles over the left side of Sayomi’s face, who in turn became even further flustered at the sudden skinship. 

“You, my dear, are going to be quite the pleasure to work with.”

☾vii.

a/n: guess who? 

taglist open:))

[odelschwanky]

You Should’ve Told Me (Kensei Muguruma x Female Reader)

Word Count: 3335

You sneezed.

"What're you doing out here, (y/n)? You're all wet! You could catch a cold you know. You should know that."

The rain, which you had sat in, had stopped not too long ago and the chilly air decided to hang around for a while. The lake shimmered a golden peach, reflecting the sunset on your tear-streaked face. You look up with sad eyes at your Captain.

Kensei's face displayed a mixture of surprise and sympathy. You could tell he didn't know what to do. All he ever did was make fun of you, and you had to take it with a straight face, of course.  He must not have thought you had emotions at all. Seeing you cry was probably an uncomfortable sight for him.

He sat down next to you on the stone bench, his sleeveless uniform exposing his bare arms, which radiated warmth to you through your shihakusho. His slender grey eyes peered out at the lake, a placeholder for where his true concerns lie.

"C'mon. Why are you crying?" He grumbles this almost angrily. This made you recede into your shell more, afraid that he might criticize you again, which he did very often.

You use the sleeve of your uniform to hurriedly wipe your face. My captain can't see me like this!

"It's nothing, Taichou."

The relationship you and your Captain had was strict. He acted so intense and so serious, and while you tried your best to be the same way around him, it was difficult. You were emotional, sensitive, and still a young officer. Being 3rd seat wasn't anything to sniff at, and you were seasoned in that respect. For your age, however, Kensei Muguruma had taken some getting used to.

As your captain, he did a mix of parenting, teasing, scolding, bullying. He treated you more like a kid than a subordinate. He yelled at you for every little thing you did wrong, and even some of the things you did right. Still, after all that, you could see through the harsh words and reprimands, see that he was trying to teach and improve his subordinate.  The words weren't meant to hurt. They still did.

"No, it's something. Tell me. The quicker you tell me, the quicker I can take care of it, and the quicker you can wipe that stupid look off his face."

You looked at your superior dejectedly. He really didn't know. This time, he was the problem.

He had gotten on to you for a recent mission. He was upset that you didn't call for backup against the Hollows in the Rukon District. When he read the briefing, he freaked! Conveniently, the news was that you had some trouble and were minorly injured trying to protect your team.

When you got back, he didn't hold back on the barrage of reprove. He called you into his office to shout at you, naming you a 'selfish, irresponsible, fool that didn't see the silliness of her actions'. You got the job done and succeded in making sure everyone was safe so you didn't understand what the problem was. You thought about it for a long while, noticing that he didn't make any sense. He called you selfish for protecting your team. He called you irresponsible for taking responsibility. You were yelled at, but you didn't even know why.

That whole debacle days ago, but it was something about this time that really broke your heart. It might have had something to do with how much you'd come to care for him. All you wanted to do was impress him and be a good, reliable officer to him. You admired him, looked up to him. All you wanted him to do was appreciate you. Every time he yelled at you though, it made you feel like you were getting farther and farther away from that.

"I told you, I'm fine... Please do not worry."

Kensei shook his head in frustration, slamming his hands on his legs. You flinch. "As your captain, I'm ordering you to tell me!" His loud, fierce voice was nothing new.

"You... you hurt my feelings."

Kensei's face changes into something that looks a lot like astonishment, an expression that was new for him. "What?"

You cast your eyes down at your hands, which were clasped in your lap. You repeated what you had said. "You hurt my feelings..."

Kensei narrowed his eyes into slits and stood up, towering over you. You could see the beginnings of the signature tattoo on his stomach, the vibrant black ink gleaming on every ridge of his rippling midsection.

"Is this about the mission?"

You nod slowly, avoiding his gaze. He was intimidating enough already, but the tall, muscular Captain loomed over you, sending you back into submission. He always had a way of doing that, even without trying.

"Are you serious? You can't possibly be upset about that! You're never upset! You-"

"I am upset. I just don't show it." You say this quietly, shoulders slumped and head low.

You decided this was a good enough time to come clean as any. You decided to tell him just how long you've been feeling this way.

"Captain, I just need to-"

He interrupted you before you could say anything more. "You shouldn't let something like me scolding you make you miserable. You shouldn't take it personally. You know how I can be..." His words didn't seem to mean anything at all.

"Will you just listen to me for two seconds!" You had jumped off the bench, away from Kensei, and turned to face him erratically. He went completely silent.

You had just yelled at your Captain. This is the first time you've ever talked back to him. You've never done anything like that before. The twist and drop in your stomach were irrevocable. What had you done? You prayed he wouldn't come back with something stronger. You knew you couldn't take it. You were at your breaking point. He didn't say anything though. Now that you had his attention, you let your emotions spill out uncontrollably.

"I can never seem to do anything right with you! It's either you treat me like a problematic child or you review me as an inadequate subordinate! You shout at me and insult me, call me names all the time! You constantly ridicule, or belittle, or- or criticize me! Maybe I'm not good enough for you or something! You tell me not to take it personally, but it's very, very personal when I feel like you hate me! You're absolutely awful!"

You blubbered his transgressions in a frantic list. Your tears were bubbling in your eyes and rolling down your cheeks, and quite embarrassingly your nose was beginning to run. You couldn't stop sobbing. All of your pent up anger, frustration, and feelings of worthlessness came erupting out of you all at once. You coughed and sputtered, out of breath.

"I don't want to be your third seat anymore!"

What you said was impulsive, yeah, you knew that. You didn't mean it really, but the stress Kensei had put you under for months, it was beginning to be too much. You didn't want to leave him, he was your everything for all intents and purposes...but you didn't know how much you could take.

"I don't hate you."

Kensei did something unexpected.

He grabbed you with ease and pulled you into his arms. You continued to bawl, but he was there to comfort you. You buried your face into his robe, which had the same soothing musk smell of your Taichou. You breathed it deeply with each sniffle between your cries. His large, strong arms tightened around you, making your stomach flutter. He rested his chin on your head, fully encasing you in his safety.

"You're acting like a child," he spat.

"Why do you treat me this way?" You begged him to tell you, gripping his clothes in your fingers while you wept. It was irrational now, the way you were behaving. You just wanted compassion.

"I think it would make you angry to know," Kensei says, petting your hair awkwardly.

"It's made me angry this whole time when I didn't know," you whisper sadly. All your words were muffled by his warm clothes. You couldn't bear to let him see your ugly face, so you kept it hidden in his chest. Kensei stayed silent, making you scared of what he was going to tell you.

"As your third seat, I'm ordering you to tell me," you mocked his command from earlier. It wasn't very authoritative or convincing. You had no energy, no strength left. You were completely defeated. He took a deep breath and held you tighter. He scoffed at your feeble attempt to have some backbone. You both knew you didn't really have any... if today was any indication.

"I'm hard on you because you're great, and there's so much potential in you. When I see an opportunity to tell you something so you can improve, I tell you. I know I'm a tough Captain, but I didn't know it was making you feel this bad."

You didn't understand. "Why would that make me angry?" You asked. He squished your cheeks harshly between his large fingers and made you look up at him. Everything was blurry from the tears.

He took the corner of his haori and used it to wipe your eyes. His hands were clumsy on you, good-naturedly rubbing away the wetness from your red cheeks. He wiped your nose too, heavy-handedly ridding you of the snot from your dramatic meltdown. You stared at him while he did this, examining his bashful, embarrassed scowl. Even now, he was a little rough around the edges. He was trying his best.

You sneezed, sniffling once more. Your nose twitched a little. This made him turn a rosy color and quickly turn away. You wish he didn't. The two of you out of the embrace, side by side again. "I'm not done, idiot."

It took him a while to gather himself, and he still couldn't meet your eyes.

"I lost my mind over that mission... I just kept imagining the possibility of you getting hurt any worse than you were. I was angry you didn't call for help, angry that you didn't call for my help. You did it all on your own instead of calling me to help you. I just wanted you to understand that it's my job to protect you." He sighed and glanced at your thoughtful face. "I need to protect you."

Protect me, you repeated in your mind. The way he said it, his simple choice of words... was desperate. You knew your Captain was always there to protect his squad. Right now though, he was talking about you. You wanted your Captain to protect you, but you wanted to show him you could do it by yourself. You thought if you could prove to him you could, then maybe he would approve of you.

"I can do things on my own, Taichou. I'm not a little girl." Sure you were young, but you were a woman still. You weren't too much younger than him. He needed to consider that.

He nodded solemnly, his glower softening into a contemplative expression. "You can do things on your own and you've shown me that. But you're still able to rely on someone... especially me, your Captain."

You wanted to ask him if he meant relying on Captain Muguruma, or on Kensei. Those were two totally different things. Recognition from either of them would suit you fine since it was more than you've ever had. Deep within you though, there was a craving for what lay underneath the white haori. You wanted the sensual side of Kensei that didn't have anything to do with the Gotei 13, or Squad 9. You wanted a version of him that only existed for you. A Kensei that nobody else could have. You knew that was impossible though, and you had already set into your mind that your childish fantasy was unachievable.

"I do rely on you, Taichou. It's just hard to sometimes when you're always poking fun at me, or deprecating me... It hurts. Especially from you," you admit, faintly. His was the opinion that meant the most to you. There was plenty of gossip that went around the Seireitei, and it troubled you as much as the next person. However, whatever Captain Muguruma thought of you had double the weight. So when he acted like he didn't think very much of you at all, it hurt twice as much.

"I hurt you," he gruffed in disapproval, shaking his head. The rasp in his voice was deep. He raked a hand through his snowy hair, only for a few strands to fall back into his face. You were both looking at the shimmering water, which became more energetic with the twilight while the sun went down. "It wasn't my intention..." He muttered this, shoulders drooping. He looked a lot like you right then. Disheartened, heavy.

It was sick, you realized, still having this silly pash with your Captain that has been mistreating you for so long. He was your superior, and also a total jerk. The fact you could disregard those two, very important, things and still have feelings for him was absurd.  You tried to convince yourself that is was a stupid, meaningless crush for a long time. You knew it was more than that, though. It was more than just a brief infatuation, because if it wasn't, why had you devoted yourself to him? Why did you put up with him so meekly? Why were you still around?

You stayed silent, wondering if that was all. You wanted to go back to your quarters and sort this out with yourself, sleep for a long time, and pretend this never happened. Something was telling you he still wasn't finished, and he looked like he was mustering up the courage to say something else.

"I had no idea, y' know, you were touchy." He paused. "If I had, I would've treated you differently..."

It didn't seem like an apology to you, but you sat and listened because you wanted to hear him out. It was a while before he said anything else. The way he had started to speak was choppy like he was wringing the words out of himself every time. Your Captain was a prideful man, so these confessions were out of character for him.

The wind had started to pick up and you had begun to hold back shivers. Still, you waited.

"The teasing, and the rest of that bullshit," he rubbed the back of his neck. "It's no excuse, but I don't know how else to show how I feel."

How do you feel?  You wanted to ask him. You just looked at him though. You wanted him to tell you, on his own volition. You didn't want to coax anything out of him. He yanked you to face him, rather aggressively, his hands on your shoulders.  "Don't you understand what I've been trying to say?" He questioned you apoplectically like you were supposed to have put the pieces together by now.

You shook your head as he let his hands skim down the shoulders of your kimono. This whole conversation was just one big mixed signal. He was still calling you stupid names, but he wiped your tears. He was apologizing and explaining everything to you, but he still sounded harsh and sore. What exactly was he trying to say? "No. You're just confusing me," you tell him. You looked deeply into his eyes. He was entranced for a moment, lost in your large irises, still glimmering from your tears. His face was so soft, so gentle in that moment, pulling at your heartstrings. His lips parted just slightly. You could see the moisture on them. The soft, purple dusk outside made you see his vulnerability.

"I love you, damn it," he mutters quickly, resuming his severe tone because of his embarrassment. His hand was on his face, massaging the bridges of his nose. You could tell it took a lot for him to say that. By this time, his face was a deep claret, and you could feel his heat. "I'm not good with my words or my feelings, so I just ignore it all. I didn't want to give in, and all this time I've just been shoving you away. You're my third seat! Those stupid feelings were getting in the way of work because every time I looked at you... I can't explain the feeling." He reasons with you, all flustered and fast. You put your hand on him to urge him to just stop talking. You wanted to enjoy this moment with Your Captain. With Kensei.

"I just love you. " He finishes.

Tears welled up again in your eyes, happy ones this time. You smile up at him. "Taichou," you whisper endearingly. This seems to send him to a different place. The way he looked at you right then was special. This moment was special.

"Stop crying."

He smashed his lips against yours in a lusty, sloppy kiss. Your eyes were wide in surprise, but you quickly closed them to enjoy your Captain's touch. Since he had hugged you the first time, his hands had rarely left you, traveling to different parts of your body: your shoulders, hair, face. This time they were on your back, fingers splayed out to steady you against his body. He pressed you into him, firmly. The embrace made emotion well up in you excessively. You were shocked, happy, confused, relieved. Kensei didn't hate you. He loved you. He loves me, you thought.

His smooth, wet lips had no trouble gliding over yours. You had no trouble keeping up. Your bodies seemed to be in rhythm, breathing, beating as one. His tongue was quickly entangled with yours, and you couldn't begin to explain the sensation. You throbbed everywhere. It was aggressive, intense, stubborn. Everything about Kensei was this way, and now you could finally feel that this part of him was too. It was different though. There was no more uncertainty. It was better.

His spiritual pressure had gone haywire, and you could feel the hair on your arms stand up from his passion. His grip on you loosened, and his hands sunk down to your waist. He fretted with your obi, but ultimately let it be. His hands so close to your bare skin sent an aching sensation to your core.

"You... should always tell me... if I hurt you," he groaned between gasps against your lips. He resumed kissing hungrily, smooching your red mouth loudly, repeatedly. "You should have told me." His breath was warm, rolling off his lips. His tone was still angry somehow. His eyebrows were furrowed with regret and his hands were turning your body inside out with desire.

You panted, breathless from his kiss, and looked up at Kensei, getting lost in the heat of his steel gaze. His irises were like molten metal turning your blood white-hot with want.

"You should've told me too."

He holds you close like a precious item, nestling your face into his shoulder. You sniff, just to smell him, just to have that ingrained in your mind. You were cold now since the nighttime had fully arrived. Kensei could feel you shivering.

"I told you that you were gonna catch cold."

"I want to stay with you." You didn't want to leave him. You wanted to feel him by you, to make up for all the times you cried. He kissed you on the temple and rubbed your shoulder.

"Then let's go home."

He rose from the seat and grabbed your hand to help you up. He draped his haori around your shoulder to keep you warm while you walked. You knew your Captain was going to take good care of you now.

[readingfanfction]

Chapter 12: Broken

idk what to say, here ya go :)

Winter melted away to spring, a little blue cat spoke his first word ‘aye’, and a dragon and his mate hosted his cousin and the blue haired fae almost every day as the girls felt they were so close to breaking the spell that trapped the celestial wizard. Lucy’s powers had grown quickly to the point where her mate wished to test his strength against her, this leading to Levy having a theory on a key to breaking a barrier.

“The spell is focused entirely on you Lu.” Levy explained one day, her head buried deep in books and her notes. “They never would have imagined a princess learning wizard magic, so the spell never included the fact that you could ever wield magic of your own.” Natsu looked to his cousin for an explanation, the iron dragon only shrugging as his chest swelled with pride at his mate.

“I’m the key?” Lucy asked understanding every word the fae said. With a nod from her friend Lucy walked over to the open window, Natsu quick to follow her his eyes watching for anything that could harm his woman.

Pressing her palms against the familiar surface of the magic barrier Lucy closed her eyes and concentrated, skin glowing with a warm golden color emanating out of her lifting everyone of her hairs up she began to float in place with her palms remaining in place. The power of the stars coursed through her veins, leaving white hot patterns of their constellations upon her skin, the entire tower and even the tree outside began to shake and vibrate.

Watching with wide and amazed eyes, the dragons and fae staired in awe at the amount of raw magic power this human girl was giving off where almost a year ago she had none. This was simply unheard of, for any human to gain so much power so quickly but then again, she was the first female to even try as it was forbidden among her people for her to even try. Outside the birds took to the sky while above Lucy’s hands those words that tormented her for so long began to hum, sparks of energy retaliating against her attack. Natsu reached out to block the black lightning from touching his mate.

“Natsu, don’t—” Levy was cut off by a sudden tremble that ripped through the tower, knocking the fae and iron dragon to the floor. With a grunt Natsu was flung through the tower, breaking the table and a hole in the opposite wall on his way out of the tower, landing on the ground outside with a pained groaned. Lucy’s magic mixed with the magic of the barrier sparking off his skin, now he really wanted to test his strength against his mate.

Lucy stayed in place as the tower shook as if it were in an earthquake, her eyes open now and looking at nothing as they were consumed with a mixture of gold and black light. Natsu flew up and crouched on the landing platform to stair directly into her strange eyes, something telling him that his mate was in trouble, every cell in his body screaming out for him to protect her. No, she’s got this, she’s strong. He told himself whispering words of encouragement to her, this was her battle. The vibrations increased, growing more and more intense, fearing for his mate Gajeel grabbed onto Levy and jumped out the window careful not to get to close to the girl. With Happy flying next to them, the three watched the fire dragon coax his mate through her task.

A scream ripped through her throat, short and high in pitch leaving it feeling raw and dry. Lucy pushed her magic into the barrier with every bit of strength she had, so much magic proving to difficult and even painful to control. But her anger and frustration at being trapped for so long drove her further, sounding far away Natsu’s voice gave her the courage she needed to demand control of so much magical power. As the scream died in her throat, the sound of glass breaking filled her world and she fell forward into Natsu’s waiting arms.

No one said a word, Lucy’s hands were outside the limits of the tower for the first time since she got there. Tears burning at the back of her eyes Lucy locked her gaze on the stunned expression Natsu wore on his face, but only for a moment. Gathering her in his arms Natsu shot off into the sky, holding her tightly in his half form, bellows of laughter heard from them both as they ascended higher and higher. Miles above the ground below her, Lucy held no fear or felt the cold of the altitude. Flying in loops Natsu would drop her, let her free fall through the sky, and catch her again. The sunlight on her skin, the wind in her hair, and the smile that split her face as she laughed with him, Natsu couldn’t get enough.

Gajeel, Levy, and Happy joined them in the air as they flew around Natsu’s territory. Each time Natsu released her to fall through the sky, Lucy would spread her arms open wide and embrace the feeling before her faithful dragon caught her. She was full of too much happiness and bliss to feel the fear of what would happen if he missed just once, she also knew he would never let her down anyways.

Now that she was no longer trapped in the tower, Lucy moved in with Natsu into his cave. It turned out not to be the dark and damp place she imagined it to be. Fires burned along the walls and obeyed his every command, growing brighter or dimmer at just a thought from their king. He had taken the initiative months ago to lay carpets along the floor for his love to walk through the cave barefoot if she so desired, the only places that didn’t have carpet he had melted the stone until it was smooth and comfortable to walk on. Instead of just one large cave, it had many tunnels that lead to different caverns that served different purposes, each one dug out by the dragon’s massive claws and expertly melted to keep the structure sound.

Excited to show Lucy their new home, Natsu carried her in his arms in his half form and flew through the caves talking about how he made each one and it was perfect for it’s intended purpose. A hot spring like bathing room, his many treasure rooms, a library he made for her, the food storage, the kitchen, bathroom, the main cave that was big enough for him to play fight in, and lastly their bedroom. Walking around the bedroom Lucy teared up, no wonder he continued to go out ‘hunting’ during the winter when she knew that there was nothing for him to hunt, he had been collecting and preparing their home for the day she would be free.

“Natsu,” she gasped as she turned to face him, tears forming at the corners of her eyes, “thank you.”

[searchingwardrobes]

Desdichado: 16/16

Look what’s FINALLY here! The conclusion to this Ivanhoe inspired fic! I sincerely apologize for the long wait on this, but I hope the happy ending makes up for it.

Historical note: Mystic nuns were a real thing in the Middle Ages, and they really did have visions, trances, prophecies, etc. Exorcisms, demons, selling one’s soul to Satan, etc, were also common ideas that people kind of took for granted as truth back then as opposed to the skeptical attitude of today.

Summary: Killian is an honorable knight who has pledged his heart to Lady Aurora. Emma is a woman of no title rumored to be a witch. Need I say more? (And yes, I have used a different summary almost every time I have posted an update!)

Rating: M, but only for some icky attitudes about women from the Middle Ages, no sexy times (sorry)

Words: a little over 4,000 in this chapter

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  Killian directed his horse away from the rest of his company, heading down the hill and through some trees as he slowed the animal. By the time they reached the shade of the lake, his mount was walking slowly. Killian dismounted smoothly, then reached up to help Emma down. His hands lingered at her waist once her feet touched the ground, and Emma’s pulse quickened at the tender smile upon his face. She reached up tentatively to brush the sweaty locks from his brow, then her fingers traced down his face, worrying over the bruises and cuts there.

Even as he winced, he gave her a charming, rakish smile. “Are you going to tend my wounds again?”

She smiled shyly, dropping her arms to her side. “It seems pointless to,” she quipped, “given how you refuse to stop acting the hero.”

His face grew serious and intense as he yanked off his gloves. He cupped her face, his thumbs brushing at her cheeks. “Are you hurt?”

“Nothing but a few splinters and rope burns, “ she replied, forcing a casual air to her voice.

His brow furrowed with concern, and he lifted her hands to study them. Seeing the angry red welts on her wrists, he bent to kiss them tenderly. She shivered at the feel of his lips against her skin.

“Sir Killian,” she reprimanded, “I don’t believe your affections are appropriate.”

The last thing she wanted to do was pull away from him, but she did so, turning her back on him to stare out at the water. She heard Killian behind her release a heavy sigh. Then he grunted as he removed his armor. She heard it clatter as it hit the grass. Then she heard his footsteps come closer, and his hands rested upon her shoulders. She tensed at the contact.

“Aurora and Sir Phillip are to wed in a fortnight,” he told her softly.

Emma whirled around, her eyes wide. “I . . . I’m sorry.”

He smiled gently, his expression soft. “Don’t be. Aurora couldn’t have explained it better. She and I shared a bond of childhood affection, and in some ways, we’ll always love one another, but we aren’t children anymore.”

Emma held her breath, waiting for him to continue.

“Aurora spent time with Sir Philip, and . . . they fell in love.” He swiped at his lower lip with his tongue, and Emma watched him swallow nervously. “And I . . . I fell in love with you, Emma.”

Had she heard him correctly? “Y-you did?”

“Aye.”

Emma reached out and pressed both palms to his chest. She drew closer, her eyes slipping closed as he wrapped his arms around her. She leaned into him, pressing her cheek against his shoulder blade and curling herself into his embrace.

“I fell in love with you, too.”

She whispered it so softly, she wasn’t sure he had heard, but then his hand slid up her back, his fingers dug into her hair, and his lips ghosted across her forehead.

“I can scarcely believe you love me back,” he told her hoarsely.

Emma pulled back so she could see his eyes. She cupped his face in her hands, the face that was bruised and bloodied to defend and rescue her.

“Believe it,” she told him with a quirk of her lips. Then she threaded her fingers through his sweaty hair and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek.

“Emma,” he groaned, as he nuzzled his nose into her neck. It seemed to take all his strength for him to step away from her. “Before we promise one another anything, there is something you must know.”

Emma frowned, the blood draining from her face. This was it. This was when he informed her that since she had no dowry to speak of, and no inheritance, they would be penniless. She clenched her hands together at her waist steeling herself for him to admit that, despite his love for her, he could never marry her. The words that actually left his lips shocked her to the core.

“Emma, you are the lost princess.”

She blinked several times, and Killian studied her patiently, cautiously.

“I - I don’t understand.”

“I don’t know the whole story myself, and it is one for your family to tell you at any rate. What I do know is that you were sent to Lady Regina for your protection.”

“Protection from what?”

“From whom - Prince James.”

Emma’s gaze fell to the grass at her feet as she shook her head. “That makes no sense. What would he care about a girl, and the youngest born at that?”

“As I said, I do not know the whole story. They said you drowned in the bath while still a babe, and even David believed it was so until the Queen told him the truth right before he left for the Crusades.”

As he spoke, Emma sat numbly upon a log by the water. She, a princess? It was too much to take in. And yet . . .

“I remember her, my mother,” she said softly.

Killian sat next to her and gently took her hand.

“Just vague images, but her smile was gentle and her eyes were kind.”

“I have met Queen Ruth, and that sounds like her.”

Emma gazed out at the water, but her vision was long ago and far away.

“She kissed my cheek and I grasped at the necklace she wore - an emerald necklace.”

“Yes!” Killian said, squeezing her hand. “That necklace has been passed down in the family for the last hundred years.”

She looked into his bright blue eyes, and her lips trembled. “But I’m . . . not proper enough for royalty.”

“Oh Emma,” he breathed, pressing his forehead to hers, “they have never stopped loving you. They are overjoyed to have you back. Not as a princess, but as their daughter and sister.”

Emma wrapped her arms around his neck and sank into his embrace. She drew strength from his words, his faith in her, and his unwavering support. His fingers ran through her hair, and she never in her life had such an overwhelming desire to kiss someone. He pulled back, cupping her face in his hands, his eyes intense.

“This is why I know I must give you space and time to think.”

Emma’s brow furrowed at his words. He cast his glance to the waters of the lake, his hands falling away from her cheeks.

“I was scarcely good enough for a lady. God knows I’m unworthy of a princess.”

He swiftly rose, and Emma was left speechless. Before he reached his horse, however, Emma was on her feet and hurrying after him.

“Sir Killian,” she called in a commanding tone. When he turned to face her, she tilted her chin and arched her brow in the most regal manner she could muster. “You are a knight pledged in service to the royal family, are you not?”

He tilted his head at her. “Aye, your highness.” His lips twitched as if he were fighting back a smile.

“And I can therefore give you orders?”

He sauntered closer, his blue eyes bright and sparkling with amusement. “You may.”

“Then I order you to kiss me.”

Emma’s cheeks burned red at her boldness, but she stood her ground. Killian came close, their chests almost touching, a half smile complimenting his arched brow. He leaned close, his nose brushing hers, and when he spoke, his breath caressed her lips.

“As you wish, princess.”

His hands came up to gently cradle her face and tilt her lips up to his. Her heart hammered so loud, she wondered if he could hear it. She was 18, and a young woman who until this moment had no title, no prospects. She had never been courted by anyone, and the only attention she had received from men was the type to flee from. Thus, she had never been kissed and feared disappointing the man before her. Fleeing this moment, however, was the furthest thing from her mind. Never had she wanted something so badly while simultaneously feeling such terror.

Killian pressed his lips to hers with a mixture of tenderness and fervor. His thumbs rubbed circles on the apples of her cheeks as his lips moved over hers. He tilted his head and pulled her flush against him, one arm wrapping around her waist and his other hand cupping the back of her head. Emma threaded her own fingers through his hair. His tongue swiped at the seam of her lips, and she opened for him. Were her feet still on the ground? She explored his mouth with her tongue, shocked at her own boldness, and her heart soared to hear the groan in the back of his throat which turned into a strangled sound as Killian broke the kiss. Emma was slightly embarrassed when she chased his lips before stopping herself, brushing her nose with his instead.

“That was -” she said with ragged breath.

“- earth shaking?” Killian asked, his lips curling into a smile as he pressed his forehead to hers.

“The earth?” Emma laughed. “I don’t think my feet are touching the ground.”

His answering chuckle was warm, vibrating against her breast as he pulled her close, tucking her head beneath his chin.

“I love you, Emma,” he whispered against her hair.

“I love you, too,” she answered, pressing her lips against his collarbone.

“Marry me?” he asked as he trailed kisses along her jaw.

“I guess that means I was satisfactory at kissing?”

He pulled back, blinking rapidly at her odd reply. She gave him a half shrug, biting at her lower lip.

“It was my first kiss,” she clarified shyly. Now her face was bright red.

Killian threw his head back and laughed in the most joyous way. Then he grabbed her, lifting her off her feet. Emma squealed as her arms tightened around his neck.

“More than satisfactory,” he told her with a grin.

Her reply was to kiss him again. She hoped he knew that meant her answer was yes.

*************************************************************

Emma’s hands couldn’t stop shaking. On the other side of the heavy oak doors were her mother and brother. Queen Mother Ruth and King David - her family! Simply having a family was enough to take in, but to discover that her family was royalty? It was almost more than she could process.

“They will love you,” Killian assured her, wrapping his arm around her waist, and nuzzling his words against her right ear.

“Sir Killian is right that they will love you,” Regina assured from her left, stilling the nervous flutter of Emma’s hands with her own. Regina leaned forward and cast a scathing look towards Killian. “However, he is absolutely wrong to be so free in his affections with you in public. “

Killian arched one brow, his eyes sparkling. “I see. So I should get her alone in order to properly lavish her with such affections.” He grinned as his gaze caught Emma’s, giving her a saucy wink. Regina huffed in irritation.

“Come now, Regina,” Emma teased, “didn’t I just catch Robin Hood lavishing you with improper affections in public?”

Regina tilted her chin regally, her lips pressed in a firm line. “That’s different. Robin and I are of a more mature age, and he is already a father.”

Emma glanced over at Killian, and they both laughed as Regina’s face turned crimson. Before Emma could give her guardian another retort, the doors before them opened, and the heralds announced her presence. Emma’s heart beat fast and her knees wobbled. She would have to go in by herself. It was royal protocol: Princess Emma alone had been summoned. Just before releasing her hands, Regina leaned near Emma’s ear.

“I hope you know that, despite everything, you were like a daughter to me.”

Emma turned and held Regina in a quick embrace. “I know,” she whispered back.

Regina took a step back, offering Emma a small smile. Emma then turned to Killian, who immediately pressed her knuckles to his lips.

“You are a brilliant, amazing woman, Emma. You need be nothing but yourself.”

Despite the open doors exposing her to the throne room, Emma leaned forward and brushed a kiss to his cheek. His smile in response filled her with more confidence than his words, and she stepped through the doors buoyed by both. She stepped further into the room, her hands twisting in front of her, her steps hesitant. The queen, on the other hand, wasn’t hesitant at all.

“Emma!” she cried as she rose from her chair. Emma was surprised to see not a dais with thrones set above the floor, but an ornate sitting room with brocade chairs in front of an enormous fireplace. The Queen Mother and the King had been sitting casually before the fire until she entered. Now Queen Ruth flew across the stone floor, her arms outstretched. King David followed behind her, a gentle smile upon his face. The heralds stood by the door she had just entered, and guards flanked the walls, but other than that, the royals were simply enjoying a simple evening as family.

And Emma, it seemed, was being welcomed with open arms. Ruth pulled her close, tears sliding down her cheeks and falling upon Emma’s shoulder. The woman was petite and smaller than Emma, her body bowed by tragedy and loss. Emma’s arms went around her loosely, unsure how to respond. The King wrapped his arms around them both, his hand coming up to cup the back of Emma’s head. She tried to relax into the familial embrace, but she remained rather stiff. All she’d ever had was Regina, who wasn’t particularly free with affection.

They released her, and Queen Ruth regarded her with a watery gaze. “You look so much like your father,” she told Emma quietly.

Behind her, King David laughed, “I thought you always said James and I favored father.”

The queen tipped her head, her gaze still on Emma, unfazed by her son’s teasing. “That you do, and I see the resemblance in your sister as well. There’s no chance of denying that the two of you are siblings.”

Emma swallowed nervously. “I - I’m sorry about Prince James, your majesties.” Perhaps it was a partial lie, but the villainous man was still the queen’s son and the king’s brother.

And hers. He was Emma’s brother, too.

Queen Ruth pressed her eyes shut and shook her head slowly. “James was lost to me many years ago. Perhaps if I had not turned a blind eye, our family would not have splintered apart.”

“None of that, mother,” the king chastised, “and as for you, dear sister, you can dispense with the royal titles. I am merely David, and this is your mother.”

He squeezed the older women in an affectionate side hug, and the queen chuckled. “Oh David, you are much too charming. Let the girl adjust before we insist upon familial monikers. Although,” she added, turning to Emma, “your majesty is completely unnecessary. You may call me Ruth until you feel more comfortable with mother.”

“Thank you,” Emma whispered, her nerves still lingering despite the warm welcome.

“Come, sit,” Ruth insisted as she tugged Emma’s hand, leading her to a chair by the hearth. “I imagine you have many questions.”

“Aye, I do,” Emma admitted as she took her seat. “Sir Killian said that my brother James tried to harm me, but that makes no sense. I am a girl and the last born at that. What threat could I possibly be to him? And wasn’t he but twelve at the time of my birth?”

Ruth’s face became pinched and her color paled. “All of that is true, my dear, but James was never . . . right. Something was always a bit off. His father and I became so concerned, we even had the priest come and do an exorcism. We feared he had been overtaken by a demon.”

“It was no demon, mother,” David spoke up from the chair beside Emma, “it was his own selfish desires and twisted obsessions.”

“I know that now,” Ruth sighed, crushing a silk handkerchief in her hands agitatedly. “The first sign that something was wrong with James came when he and David were still in the cradle. Most twins take comfort in the presence of the other, and prefer to be together, so the boys shared a cradle, but as soon as he was big enough and strong enough, James would regularly push David out. We had to separate them.”

“And David was born first?” Emma asked.

“Yes,” Ruth said with a nod, “the royal midwife tied a red string around David’s ankle when he came out first, and we kept that red string there until the boys were of an age that I could tell them apart easily. Their personalities were polar opposites, but so were their countenances. It was hard to believe they were twins, despite what the eyes could see.”

“It didn’t end with pushing me out of the crib,” David added, leaning forward, “I had several accidents through the years, all of them at James’s hand. Spooked horses, tumbles from foot bridges, that sort of thing. James always feigned innocence, of course.”

“And God help me, I wanted to believe him,” Ruth said, her voice trembling.

David reached out to still her shaking hands, “You loved him unconditionally. Who can fault you for that? I loved him too, you know. None of this has been easy.”

“The worst came when the boys were ten,” Ruth continued, bravely looking Emma in the eye. “I witnessed it myself - James pushed David from the castle’s highest parapet. Thank God I followed them up there. David grabbed onto a pennant, and I reached him in time to pull him up. I’ll never forget the look on James’s face as I held David in my arms, both of us trembling. I asked him why he would do such a thing. Coldly, he told me the throne would be his, even if he had to sell his soul to do it. We sent David away the very next day to train as a knight under Sir Eric in Glowerhaven.”

“I wasn’t there when you were born two years later, Emma,” David apologized, “if I had, maybe I could have protected you -”

“You were just a boy,” Emma cut him off with a raised hand, then she turned back to Ruth. “What happened when I was born?”

“Well, first of all,” Ruth said, leaning forward to grasp Emma’s hand, “you were a miracle. For years, I had been unable to conceive again. There was a mystic nun who visited the castle right before I discovered that I was with child. She prophesied that I would give birth to a daughter and that you would be the key to stopping the evil intents of my middle son. She pointed to James and said that his soul had belonged to Satan since infancy. Until you arrived, Emma, I confess most of us laughed off her words. Surely James wasn’t evil, he was just . . . “

Ruth could no longer speak. She pressed her handkerchief to her mouth and choked out a strangled half-sob. Once she had composed herself, she straightened and looked at Emma sadly.

“One night, your nursemaid, Johanna, had just finished with your bath and left you in your cradle to fetch your clothes. When she returned, she saw James dashing out. Thank God she returned as quickly as she did. James had dropped you back into the tub. She is the one who took you to Regina. When she told your father and I what had transpired, we felt it best that James believe he was successful. We announced to the kingdom that you drowned in the bath. Johanna even left the castle, allowing everyone to believe she was at fault.”

Ruth’s composure finally broke fully, and she covered her face with both hands. Emma rose and dropped to her knees at her mother’s feet.

“Please don’t cry,” she soothed.

“I missed everything,” she sobbed, “your first steps, your first words. Giving you up was the hardest thing I ever had to do.”

“You wanted me to have my best chance,” Emma told her softly, “and you did. . . mother.”

Ruth lifted her tear stained face to meet Emma’s gaze. A single tear escaped from Emma’s own eyes and slid slowly down her cheek. Ruth reached out to cup her daughter’s face and wipe the tear away. Emma leaned against her then, allowing the queen to envelop her in a mother’s embrace. This time, Emma relaxed into it, relishing the love that poured off this woman.

“If only your father were still here to see you,” Ruth whispered against Emma’s hair.

Truly, Emma wished that too. She wished for many things: that James had been content with his place in life and not torn the family apart, that he wasn’t currently locked in the dungeon awaiting the gallows, that her mother had been there for all the special moments in Emma’s life. Yet none of them could change the past. She felt David’s arms go around them both, and somehow she knew that a page had turned in the story of her life. Never had the future seemed so full of possibilities.

Or happy endings.

“Now,” David said, releasing them both as their tears turned to laughter, “what is all this about my best friend proposing marriage to my sister?”

***************************************************************

The rushes upon the floor were sprinkled with the sweetest smelling herbs, laughter rang along the banqueting tables, and the bride and groom were both flushed with love and desire. Emma grinned broadly as she joined the revelers in calling for the groom to claim yet another kiss from his bride. Sir Phillip eagerly leaned over and pressed his lips to Lady Aurora’s. The moment he did so, the couple clearly forgot where they were, lost in one another completely until the merry maker’s cheers turned to hoots. The pair pulled apart, their flushed faces a deeper red than before.

“I can hardly wait for that to be us, darling,” a husky voice whispered in Emma’s ear.

A shiver ran along Emma’s spine as she turned towards her fiance who was sitting scandalously close. A smile curled Emma’s lips.

“It will be in only five days. Tis not so long, my handsome knight.”

“On the contrary,” Killian retorted, his blue eyes darkening with desire, “it is far too long, my fair princess.”

“That’s just Emma to you, my love,” she replied, cupping his face in her hands.

Killian grinned and brushed a chaste kiss to her lips. “May I have a dance with my bride-to-be?”

“You may,” Emma answered, resting her hand in the crook of his arm as he helped her

rise from her seat.

Some would have said it was the wine, others the warm room or even the movement of the dance, but Emma knew it was the man who held her causing the blush upon her fair cheeks. She could have spun upon the rushes with him for hours, but duty called, and she had to leave Killian alone for a few moments. Her family needed to pay their respects to the happy couple.

Emma still wasn’t used to the formality as she curtsied low next to Queen Ruth, David bowing on the queen’s other side. First her mother and then Emma kissed the bride’s gloved hand. Yet before Emma could walk away, Aurora clasped her hand more tightly and pressed something into Emma’s palm. It was a garnet ring on the end of a pewter chain. Rather plain for Lady Aurora’s station, truth be told.

“This rightfully belongs to you,” Aurora told her, “now that you own the heart of the man it belongs to.”

Aurora inclined her head, and Emma followed the lady’s gaze to where Killian stood against the wall, handsome as usual in his formal tunic and leather breeches.

“He told me it was his brother’s,” Aurora explained, “so I know how much it means to him.”

“But he gave it to you,” Emma argued.

Aurora smiled gently. “Along with his heart, when he was still a lad. Yet as a man, he gave his heart to you, Emma.”

Emma nodded, clutching the simple piece of jewelry to her breast. It may not have been the finest jewels, but they meant more to Emma than the pearls and diamonds studding the tiara atop her head.

“Thank you,” she whispered, “and you feel no ill will towards me?”

Aurora shook her head, then turned her gaze upon Sir Phillip. She pulled her husband close, and the man came eagerly, resting his forehead against hers.

“All is as it should be,” Aurora said, her eyes never leaving Phillip’s.

Emma curtsied once more, then hurried across the floor to her knight. When she reached him, she flung herself, in a very un-princesslike manner, into Killian’s arms. She pressed kisses to both of his cheeks as he laughed.

“Whatever is this about?” he asked, still holding her feet up off the floor. “Though I’m hardly complaining.”

“All is as it should be,” she told him simply. And though it was improper, especially for a princess, Emma kissed her knight for all to see.

[wilderwestking]

Wings of Fire Chapter 4 Read on AO3|FF

Summary:  Plagued by dragons, Berk offers a sacrifice. Astrid swears she will end the feared Dragon Master’s life, but when the Dragon Master’s war becomes her own, Astrid must figure out whose side she’s really on.

Rating: M

This chapter is a little longer and little less action-packed, but I hope you all enjoy it! 

Chapter 1|Previous Chapter

With Hiccup’s limitations on her exploration, Astrid had grown incredibly bored with her surroundings.

In her alcove, she kept track of days passed by carving lines into the wall. Counting ten, crooked lines scrawled into the rock, she felt so much like  Brynhild that she grew angry at the memory of Ruffnut being chosen to play her in a Snoggletog pageant from years ago.

Unlike Brynhild, though, Astrid had done nothing to deserve banishment to this hidden world. Unlike Brynhild, she had done nothing to fail her chief. Astrid had followed every order, killed every dragon that crossed her path, and thrown herself in harm's way a thousand times to protect the people of Berk. Yet, she had been banished to this plane, in the same manner, Brynhild had been banished to Midgard

After being chased from the forest, Astrid stuck near the safety of her cave, trapped in a metaphorical ring of fire by the ever-watchful dragons of Hiccup’s retinue.

Hiccup himself, hadn’t crossed her path in days, although the sound of his hammer had kept her awake all hours of the night.

Making himself scarce, Astrid only saw the man when he delivered meals to her prison.

                                                           xXx

Gods, Astrid was bored.

Wherever she went, dragons followed. They had grown more cautious of her since the day in the forest. When she explored the crystal meadows, they were there, mother dragons tucking their hatchlings under their wings and hissing at her as she passed. When she explored the tunnels or the hot springs, the dragons were there, watching from the shadows. Every step, every breath, they reported back to their master.

Astrid had contemplated another escape attempt. However, without wings, the only option she had seemed to be the forest opening that she had been banned from approaching. It wasn’t an impossible option, but every time she drew too close to boundary lines, a dragon would swoop down and chase her back to the main cave, teeth and claws at her back.

                                                          xXx

Two nights after Astrid had been chased away from the forest, Hiccup had brought her daily rations to the cave. Setting the wrapped parcel on the ground, he caught Astrid’s eye.

“You can just hand it to me, you know,” Astrid said, leaning against the wall and staring down at him.

Tensions high from her attempted murder, Hiccup stood up, regaining the high ground. “I didn’t see you.”

She nudged the wrapped fish with her foot. “This isn’t sustainable.”

“No? Why not?”

“Because I’m sick of fish. You can’t keep feeding me fish.”

Every meal for the past two weeks had been fish.

Any fat that Astrid had back on Berk had been lost from the low-calorie diet. To keep weight on her bones, she had resorted to intensive strength training to ensure her muscles didn’t atrophy from lack of use or proper nutrients. If she were to escape, she would need to be strong.

There had to be something besides fish on the island. A stray chicken. A boar. Anything but dragon-fire-roasted chicken. Astrid refused to believe that Hiccup had gone the past five years with only fish to eat—although it would explain why he was so skinny.

“There has to be something else to eat.”

“There isn’t.”

“I don’t believe that. What do you eat?”

“Fish.”

“For every meal?”

“No, but I haven’t exactly had time to visit a port for supplies.” Hiccup said, tone growing shorter with each word.

“Well, I don’t want fish.”

“Then starve?” He offered, raising an eyebrow at her.

Astrid huffed, angry and child-like. Crossing her arms over her chest, she glared at him. The sight only made Hiccup laugh.

“Look, Astrid. It’s there. It’s food. Take it or leave it, but I can’t make you eat.”

“Why can’t you just drop me off in a village?” Astrid asked. “I could get something real to eat. And it’s clear that you don’t want me here.”

“It’s too dangerous,” Hiccup said as though it were obvious. “I know you, Astrid. You wouldn’t stay in whatever village or market I dropped you in. You would immediately sail back to Berk, gather every warrior, and lead them here to an untimely death.”

Astrid snorted. “You think you could take on all of Berk? Sure, you have dragons, but we’ve been killing dragons for hundreds of years.”

“There are things here you don’t understand.” He warned.

Astrid was reminded of the eerie way the forest of dragons had froze the other day. Brushing it off, she bit back at him. “Dragons. That’s what’s here. Dragons and a dragon-loving fool.”

Hiccup didn’t press the conversation, but Astrid did. Taking a step toward Hiccup, she puffed up her chest.

“I can’t just stay here for the rest of my life.”

“No, you can’t.” Hiccup agreed.

“Well, then what are you going to do?”

Hiccup shrugged, “If you keep refusing to eat, I won’t have to do anything.”

Astrid seethed, but when Hiccup was out of sight, she scooped up the roasted cod. After all, as a warrior needed to keep her strength up.

                                                          xXx

Bathing had become an eagerly anticipated part of Astrid’s daily routine. On Berk, it was customary to bathe once a week. But here, in the dragons’ caves, Astrid was constantly finding herself filthy. Sleeping on the floor would do that to a person, she supposed.

It also helped to pass the time. Without a village’s worth of chores to be done, Astrid spent many days consumed by boredom. Exercising and exploring could only stimulate her for so long. Too prideful to ask Hiccup for something to entertain herself with, she had taken to bathing to pass the long hours. The water at her favorite hot spring was always pleasantly warm and it was one of the few ways to escape Hiccup and his dragons’ eyes.

Turning the corner and heading down the tunnel that led to her favorite hot spring, Astrid was shocked to find the hulking shape of Hiccup’s Night Fury curled around the rim. Its saddle was placed off to the side, and for the first time, Astrid was able to study the dragon’s missing tailfin. She had noticed the red, artificial tailfin the night of her sacrifice, but she hadn’t given much thought to how Hiccup controlled it. Now, seeing the bundle of wires, leather, and canvas, Astrid realized the man had crafted an intricate pedal system for the beast.

Beyond its form, the goose-honking of Hiccup’s voice could be heard. Listening in on his conversation, Astrid frowned. He sounded frustrated, but the quick mix of Norse and Draconic was too much her to follow.

The Night Fury gave a quick bark, signaling he knew of her presence. Hiccup’s conversation came to a stall.

Looking over its back at her and lifting its tail, Hiccup’s skinny form was revealed. Blushing, he watched her watching him. Skin pink from the heat of the water, Hiccup’s scars and burns stood out against his freckled chest. Little cuts and burns dotted his torso, but Astrid’s focus was on the dark scar that ran from his right armpit to his left hipbone. Carving just under his breastbone and across his stomach, Astrid was surprised that whatever had gotten ahold of him hadn’t killed him.

If only.

Hiccup waded to the edge of the spring, obscuring his body in an act of modesty. “You bathed yesterday.”

“I did… I bathe every day.”

“That’s a bit excessive, don’t you think?” Hiccup folded his arms on the rim of the hot spring, the freckles along his shoulders dancing with the movement.

She shot him a look. “Unlike you, I don’t have a bed of furs to sleep in. I sleep in the dirt.”

His expression softened, “You could have asked for a blanket or two.”

“Would you have given me one?”

“If you asked nicely, yeah.” Hiccup rested his chin on his crossed arms. He shuffled awkwardly in the water, watching her with a mixture of caution and embarrassment. At his side, his dragon turned away from Astrid, choosing to chew on Hiccup’s prosthetic leg with its gummy mouth.

The pair stood in awkward silence, neither knowing what to say to the other. Hiccup looked tense, like a snake ready to strike or a dragon ready to flee.

Astrid supposed it was fair, their previous encounters hadn’t been friendly to say the least.

The Night Fury broke the tension by warbling.

Assuming it to be a question, Astrid watched as Hiccup’s face turned even redder and he splashed water at his dragon. Drawing back, trying to wipe the water away like a giant cat, the Night Fury grumbled.

Astrid leaned back on her heels, “How did you learn to speak with them?”

“It’s just another language,” Hiccup said shrugging. “Spend enough time around them and you’ll pick it up too.”

She wrinkled her nose at that. She couldn’t imagine speaking the devil’s tongue. She wouldn’t want to. It was practically treason.

Catching her expression, Hiccup frowned. “I’m sure you’ve already begun to notice different tones. Dragons sound different if they’re happy or angry or scared. Just like people.” His voice was relaxed, and Astrid could hear hints of encouragement in his tone.

“Dragons aren’t people.” She said, cutting him off. “I won’t ever be fluent in their tongue.”

“Well, yeah…But I’m not exactly fluent either.”

That took Astrid by surprise. She had seen Hiccup hold entire conversations with his Night Fury. She had seen the Dragon Master lead raids without speaking a word of Norse. Even on the night of her sacrifice, he had spoken in Draconic to the Terrible Terror.

“You’re not?”

“No, not at all. So much of their language is expressed through body language. Leg jokes aside, I’m missing a lot of the required limbs. Without a tail or wings or movable ears, I sound like a drunken hatchling.”

The Night Fury laughed in that eerie too-human-yet-draconic way that sent chills up Astrid’s spine.

“But you command them. I’ve heard you do it.”

“First off, I don’t command anyone. The dragons listen because they respect me. I gave them my trust, so they gave me theirs. Secondly, actions and feelings are easy to express. It’s the complex ideas that get lost in translation.”

Hiccup’s hands reached out, grabbing his Night Fury’s head. Holding the dragon by his gums, he swayed the head from side to side. “But you understand me all right. Don’t ya, bud? Don’t ya?”

The Night Fury, teeth retracted, thumped its tail excitedly and licked Hiccup’s torso. Hiccup drew back, groaning. “Come on, bud! You know that doesn’t wash out! And I just bathed!”

Astrid wanted to turn around and leave, but she couldn’t make herself move.

Hiccup dunked his body under water, trying to rid himself of the dragon saliva. Then, resurfacing, Hiccup looked around the tiny space, before settling on Astrid again. He looked as surprised as she was that she was still there.

Looking for something to say, Hiccup patted the rim of the hot spring. “The water is full of iron.”

Tilting her head, she peered at him and the odd, red-colored water. “And?”

“And that’s why it’s red. You’re always watching it. I, well, I thought you would be curious.” He shrugged his shoulders and the room grew tense with silence again. After a few moments of awkward staring, Hiccup coughed into his hand. “Can you, uh, can you turn around?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t stab you in the back with your own weapon. I just want to get out. Is that okay?”

Realizing the meaning behind his words, Astrid flushed bright pink. Beneath the water, hidden only by her angle of sight, Hiccup was completely naked. She had caught him in a moment of vulnerability, and if not for the Night Fury, Astrid could have easily incapacitated the one-legged man. As it was, though, she could do nothing but look away, ears burning.

Spinning on her heels, Astrid turned away and focused her eyes on the wall in front of her. From the hot spring, she heard the splash of Hiccup pulling himself from the water, his Night Fury grumbling as more water sloshed onto the rocks. Hearing the rustle of fabric, Astrid could picture him pulling on his clothes, likely using his Night Fury for balance.

She heard the click of his prosthetic attaching. The dragon’s saddle was next, but Astrid didn’t risk turning around.

Putting a soggy hand on her shoulder, Hiccup grinned. “Hot spring’s all yours. Don’t drown in it.”

“Nice of you to care,” She said, shrugging his hand off.

“Of course, I care. I wouldn’t want your body to contaminate the water.”

He deserved the punch to his arm, but Astrid did not deserve the tail swipe from Toothless.

                                                           xXx

That evening, when Hiccup left her nightly meal at the mouth of her cave, Astrid was determined to starve him out. Sick of fish and sicker of the island, Astrid would refuse to eat until he took her to a village. Staring down at the fish, her mouth watered at the idea of sitting in an inn or mead hall and enjoying a bowl of hot stew.

As the cod cooled, the smell filled the cave and attracted hungry dragons. One by one, they would creep to the edge of her den. Sniffing at the fish, their large eyes would stare at the temptation, but ultimately, after seeing Astrid, left the fish alone. Except for the two-legged, wingless dragon that liked to spy on Astrid while she bathed. Bolder than its flock-mates, the dragon entered her cave without hesitation, eyeing the fish hungrily.

Emerald green and deep red scales shimmered as the dragon danced around the fish. At the end of the dragon’s tail, a large stinger protruded.

The dragon sniffed at the fish, nose nudging at the wrappings.

“Go away,” Astrid chided, waving the dragon away with her arms. She had no intention to eat the fish, but she needed it to stay where it was so Hiccup could see that she wasn’t eating it.

The dragon tilted its oblong head at her, nostrils opening and closing rapidly as it took in her scent. Then, hissing at her, it grabbed the fish in its tiny claws and dashed away with surprising speed.

“Hey!” Astrid called after it, “Bring that back! It’s mine!”

At her call, the dragon stopped several yards away. Looking back at her, it blinked its yellow eyes.

Astrid rushed from the cave, hoping to steal back her dinner, but the dragon stayed just out of her reach. Circling, it growled in its throat.

Ignoring the warning, Astrid lunged forward, hoping to grapple the fish from its arms. At half her size, the dragon shouldn’t have stood a chance.

But the dragon was quick, almost as quick as the Night Fury. Striking out, its tail bit into Astrid’s side.

Feeling a sharp pain, her veins were filled with ice. Crippling. Freezing. Paralyzing. Every muscle constricted.

She tried to cry out, but her throat wouldn’t respond. Terror struck her, taunts of “Frozen Finn Hofferson” burning in her memory. She wasn’t supposed to freeze up when facing a dragon. She was fearless. A Hofferson!

Unable to control her balance, she toppled over face landing in the dirt. Above her, the dragon sniffed at her hair and clothes, a mocking chortle in its throat. Then, settling down at her side like a scaly bird, it tucked into her dinner.

                                                           xXx

“Now, what have you done Quickclaw?” She heard Hiccup ask from somewhere beyond her line of sight. The dragon had nestled closer to her. Resting its large in the curve of her side, Astrid could feel the gentle rise and fall of its chest. It lifted its head to look at Hiccup.

His shadow fell over her, giving her the image of him resting his hands on his hips. He was peering down at the dragon accusingly, like a mother who had caught their toddler playing with something they shouldn’t.

Astrid tried to call out to him, but everything was ice.

Then, properly noticing her predicament, Hiccup laughed. The noise filled the entirety of the cavern, drowning out the constant draconic background noise. Watching his shadow, Astrid could see him double over, arms wrapping around his middle.

Catching his breath, Hiccup straightened up. Releasing a long sigh, he wiped a tear from his eye.

“Quickclaw’s a Speedstinger.” He supplied, allowing the dragon to nuzzle his hand. “His venom will wear off in a few hours. You’ll just have to stick it out.”

He sat down in front her, pulling a leather-bound sketchbook from his satchel. Together, they sat in silence for hours. Although she couldn’t move, Hiccup had done her the favor of sitting in her line of sight. Sketching in his book, he paid her no mind.

Charcoal scratching against the paper, Hiccup drew until he seemed content with the work.  Turning the book to face Astrid, he revealed a likeness of her curled up with the Speedstinger. Unable to scream at him, she hoped her eyes did her anger justice.

Hiccup laughed again. “It really is funny.”

…

“We don’t get bards here very often. I have to have something to entertain myself with! Lighten up, Hofferson. Quickclaw’s harmless.”

Astrid wanted to cuss, to strangle the dragon nestled in her side and throttle the dragon lover who refused to help her.

Unable to move, she stewed in her anger, plotting revenge.

Her thoughts of sweet and justified revenge were prematurely interrupted by Hiccup jumping to his feet frantically. Rushing to step over Astrid, he shouted as a panicked Stormcutter landed near her, its four wings blowing dirt over her body and its giant feet shaking the ground with its stomps. Quickclaw darted away, frightened by the sudden intrusion.

From the corner of her eyes, she could see Hiccup reaching out a hand to calm the dragon. Dark blue with turquoise etchings, the owl-like dragon screeched in fear. Stroking the dragon’s head, Hiccup responded in slow, calming Draconic.

As fast as it had arrived, it was picking itself from the ground and disappearing.

Hiccup seemed unconcerned with Astrid. Even though she was on the ground, dirt from the dragon’s departure in her eyes and nose, he paid her no mind.

Stepping over her form and cupping his hands around his mouth, he screeched, loud and draconic. Sounding so much like his Night Fury, Astrid was astounded that a human could make such a noise.

His Night Fury was at his side in an instant, Hiccup swinging into the saddle. Then, they were gone, leaving Astrid confused and alone and frozen.

                                                      xXx

Waking the next morning, stiff, but in the comfort of her den, Astrid could see no sight of Hiccup. The only indicator that he had returned to the dragon sanctuary after the previous day’s frantic departure, being the wrapped rations package at the mouth of the cave. Starving from a day without food, Astrid ripped into the parcel to find a generous portion of dried yak, cheese, and bread.

[overlordofthelollipopguild]

Life Just Got Complicated - Chapter 1

So this is my first attempt at a CS modern AU. 

The gist of it. Emma and Killian meet, have sex, and become roommates. Easy enough right? Well, just wait until the baby comes along.

Be kind, this is my first time writing CS smut. Don’t expect more though lol. The smut in chapter one is plot relevant and the ret of the story is likely T rated. So enjoy. 

Link to ff.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12482512/1/

Chapter 1: Lonely Hearts

Her rum appeared before her, and Emma wasted no time in taking a hefty sip. She definitely needed it. Her usual drink of choice was rum and coke, but after the bomb her roommate and best friend Ruby had dropped on her today, Emma needed a stronger drink.

All of her life Emma had been abandoned. Why should Ruby be any different? After two years of living together, and worming her way into Emma’s life and defenses, Ruby decided to move in with her girlfriend of ten months, Belle.

It wasn’t that Emma wasn’t happy for them. They were her only friends, the only friends she allowed herself to have, and Emma was honestly happy for them and happy that they were happy. But after twenty-four years of being abandoned by everyone who ever mattered to her, Emma couldn’t stop the ugly feelings of self-loathing and worthlessness that creeped up. Ruby was literally moving a few blocks away, and she promised Emma that nothing would change, but too much would change. Ruby and Belle would be together and happy, and yeah, maybe they wouldn’t forget about Emma, but Emma herself would still be alone.

She really should’ve known better. She was always meant to be alone.

Taking another sip, she paid no mind to the man who slipped onto the stool next to her, who also ordered rum.

When his rum arrived, the man turned to Emma, holding up his glass. “To lonely hearts.”

Emma turned to look at him, breathing sharply when her eyes connected to the bluest eyes she had ever seen. Deeper and fuller than the sea, those blue eyes spoke of loneliness and longing, but more than that, Emma saw something of herself reflected in his eyes.

Inwardly shaking herself, her gaze drifted from his eyes to his face. High cheekbones that were tinted with red, hidden under a mixture of dark brown and ginger scruff, with a scar slashed across the right cheek just barely discernible in this lighting, a dimple peeking out thanks to his smirk. His jaw was angular, but not sharply so, a softness in place instead. His black hair was tousled in a way that Emma couldn’t tell if he did it on purpose or if it was natural.

He was mesmerizingly handsome, and it sent a flare of heat through Emma as she took him in.

Usually pretty eyes and a handsome face wouldn’t have affected her, or if it did, she’d never show it, but she was feeling a little abandoned tonight, or else she would’ve ignored the heat, made a snappy comment and brushed him off. As it was…she didn’t. “What makes you think my heart is lonely?”

“You’re at a bar by yourself at five in the evening on a Tuesday, and you’re drinking that rum like it’s the first drink you’ve seen in years.” Truth be told, Killian could understand why. Even with all his friends and his brother back in Storybrooke, he knew what it was like to be alone. Though his self-imposed exile from Storybrooke these past five years hadn’t helped matters. The only person he even spoke to anymore was an old high school friend who was dating his roommate.

“Maybe I’m just enjoying a nice rum.” She gestured to his glass. “I suppose that’s why you’re here at five on a Tuesday?”

Killian chuckled. “Ah yes. Well then, if your heart isn’t lonely, what shall we toast to?”

Emma chewed at her bottom lip. This guy was friendly in a way most hot guys weren’t as if he really did want to sit here and chat. A feeling of recklessness began to uncoil in her gut. “We could sit here and make idle chit chat, pretend that we’re trying to get to know each other, laugh and flirt, and then head to your place to fuck.” Emma rattled off. “Or we could cut the bull and just go straight to the prize.”

She surprised him, this attractive enigma who had fire in her green eyes.

Killian downed his rum. What the hell? It had been over a year since his last one night stand and the only two friends that he had had been pushing him to get out more and socialize. They probably meant that he needed more friends and a girlfriend, but he wasn’t ready for that. “If you think you can handle it.”

“Trust me, buddy, you won’t be able to handle it.” Emma finished off her rum and stood. “Last chance?”

The man had a smirk that was sexy enough to melt any woman, or man for that matter, that looked his way. And boy, did Emma melt.

“You’ll not be rid of me that easily, love.”


She was certain that she was on fire as the man from the bar pressed her back into the door of his apartment, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses along her throat, eliciting moans from her that none of her one night stands before had been able to draw from her. Then again, it had been about five months since the last time she had had sex with anyone, and that experience had been subpar.

His hands were sliding underneath the hem of her blouse as his mouth travelled lower. The hand she had in his hair clenched and she pulled, earning a throaty moan from him. Emma smirked. So he liked it a little rough, did he? She pulled at his hair a little harder this time, and he ground against her, his moan muffled against her chest, where he had been kissing her.

“Fuck.” He panted, nipping his way back up to her neck.

“That is what we’re trying to do.” Emma teased.

Killian chuckled at her quick response. He really did like this woman, and he wished that she would give her name, or allow him to give her his, but he got the sense that he shouldn’t push her.

He managed to pry his lips from the sensitive spot on her neck that had her flushed and panting, only to press them against her own delectable ones. God above, she was a damn good kisser, opening up for him, allowing him to take and giving just as much back. He wondered if this was what Heaven was like.

With much reluctance, Emma pulled away from the kiss, but kept her lips close. “Bedroom.” She commanded.

He lifted her up without hesitation, forcing Emma to wrap her arms tightly around his neck, and locking her legs around his waist. Normally, she hated when guys attempted this little show of strength, because they usually dropped her or pulled something, which killed the mood, but this guy held her up and carried her with ease as if she wasn’t all that heavy at all. To her surprise, he successfully navigated his apartment and opened the door without struggle.

Killian slowly let her drop to her feet so that every inch of their bodies felt each other. The woman let out an impressed sigh as her hands pulled his shirt from his pants.

“You need less clothes.” Her sultry tone made him harden.

“So do you.” He practically growled as one of his hands teased along the column of buttons on her blouse.

“Don’t tear it.” She warned him.

Killian smirked, and bent forward, licking a stripe along her throat. “I’ll be very gentle with them.” He promised, though he sounded like pure sin.

She was confused as to why his mouth was going lower instead of back to her lips where it belonged, Emma watched as he started to undo her buttons with his teeth. She was even more stunned that it actually worked, but his tongue, lips, and teeth against her skin soon made her forget that.

He looked up at her from his kneeling position, preening at her flushed body and uneven pants, and their eyes met.

Emma bit her lip hard as he undid her jeans with his teeth.

With her boots and jeans off, Killian gently pushed her back onto the bed.

“Your turn.” Emma grabbed at the hem of his shirt and pulled it over him, tossing it carelessly away. Her hands snaked under the waistband of his jeans, finding the ridge of his erection beneath his boxers.

Emma swallowed at the intense expression on his face. God, no one had ever looked at her like that before. A sense of urgency overtook her as she finished stripping him, leaving him bare to her, his thick cock straining despite it’s newfound freedom. Fuck her, he was larger than average and certainly bigger than most guys she fucked.

As she reached for his cock, Killian dodged her. “Ah, ah. Not yet, love.”

“I’m not your love.” She huffed.

“It’s either that or your name.” He offered.

She groaned. “Fine, love it is. Will you fuck me, now?”

Killian smirked. “Now, where’s the fun in that.” He lowered his head to to her chest, sucking a lace clad breast into his mouth.

Emma arched into him. “Shit.”

As he suckled one breast, one hand began kneading at her other breast, while the other teased along her hip toying with the hem of her lace panties. He had her writhing underneath him, and for once, Emma was enjoying not being on top.

When he switched his mouth to her other breast, and switched hands, he changed it up, his right hand being bolder, pushed her panties down, and found her sensitive clit.

If she was of sound mind, Emma would’ve been embarrassed by the inhuman moan that escaped her as the man fingered her clit.

His thumb pressed up against her as his fingers travelled to her soaking core. “Fuck, you’re so fucking wet.”

Emma helplessly arched into him again as he began to pump one finger inside of her. “Well, don’t stop now.” She panted.

At her words, he added a second finger and began to thrust them into her faster, while his lips worked their way back up to her neck.

Her eyes rolled back at the sensations she was being subjected to. Fuck, this man knew his way around a woman’s body, that was for damn sure. Emma had never been so turned on in her life. Hell, he made her want to throw out her one and done rule if every time was this good. “Ah.” Emma gasped as he added a third finger, thrusting them in faster and harder. “Fuck!” Her eyes rolled back as her orgasm hit her full force.

Killian hissed with pleasure as her nails dug into his back, his fingers slowing down and helping her ride out her orgasm. He looked up from where he was marking the top of her breast to watch her. He swallowed as he took in the sheer, unabashed pleasure in her face, enjoying the flush that covered her face and spread down to her chest. She looked as absolutely wrecked as he felt. Slowly, he kissed his way down her body.

Opening her eyes, Emma watched as he went lower. “What are you doing?” She asked breathlessly, though her voice was more husky from pleasure than anything else.

“What does it look like?” He teased as he fully removed her panties.

“You don’t have to.” Emma blushed. Most guys never liked to eat her out, and the ones she convinced to do it failed spectacularly.

Killian chuckled. “On the contrary, I’d love to.”

“Really, you don’t, oh.” Emma gasped, hands clenching the sheets as he licked between her folds.

“Believe me, love.” He nipped at her clit causing her to press further into him. “I really want to.”

With her clit in his mouth, Emma felt her pleasure ramping up again. Jesus, he had a talented mouth. “Oh God.”

He moved his hands to her hips to keep them pressed into the mattress as he tongue pleasured her entering her heat and tasting her sweetness with abandon, her gasps and moans motivating him to work her faster.

“Ah, fuck, faster.” She pleaded.

Killian was helpless to comply, his own need for her around his cock nearly too much for him to bear as he ground his hips into the mattress to give him some relief until she was ready for him.

It shocked her how quickly her second orgasm hit her, though not nearly as much as the fact that she actually had orgasmed twice now, and the man hadn’t even put his cock to good use yet.

He didn’t wait for her to come down this time, pushing himself up over her, kissing her before she could catch her breath.

Emma’s hands flew from the sheets to him as he kissed her, pulling him closer to her. Her bra was off before she realized what his hands had been doing, and then he pulled back to open his nightstand, irritating her until she realized he was searching for a condom.

Killian gripped the foil package and looked down at her with a cheeky grin. “You up for it, love?” With a seductive smile that had Killian’s heart thundering, she took the package from him and slyly ripped it open with her teeth. He watched entranced as she took the condom out, smirking at him as her free hand trailed down his chest to his strained erection before wrapping her hand around it. Killian’s eyes closed as a deep moan left him.

Emma liked that noise a lot, pumping his hot, thick cock a few times, just to get him to moan again.

“Fuck, love.” He growled, his hands gripping at her hips hard. “I’m not going to last if you keep that up.” A sultry smile was her answer as her other hand moved to his cock and rolled the condom over him.

Her legs wrapped around him, pressing his length to her soaked heat. “I’m sure you can handle it.”

It was that moment that Killian knew this woman would be the death of him. He pulled back and lined himself up with her entrance, slowly pushing inside of her. Killian’s eyes rolled back, his teeth biting his lip, as her walls surrounded him. 

Emma gripped him tightly to her as she adjusted to his size that seemed to stretch her to her limit. “Fuck.” She groaned into his neck.

Killian stopped once he was fully inside of her to give her a moment. “All right there?”

Emma nodded.

Taking that as a go-ahead, Killian began to move, unhurried, wanting this to last.

The slow pace was killing Emma, it was too close to something Emma didn’t want to acknowledge and she was too on edge, needing this new fire he started up to be sated. “Faster.” She urged, her feet dropping to the mattress to anchor her. “Faster.”

Killian heeded her plea, bracing himself against the mattress as he hovered over her, thrusting into her faster, letting out a choked groan as she grabbed onto his ass.

When he hit her g-spot, Emma couldn’t quell the passionate moans that left her as her toes curled into the sheets. “That’s it.” She gasped, desperately pulling him closer. “Right there.”

He let out a growl of pleasure as he increased their pace. They were both close, he could feel it, and as much as he wanted this ecstasy to last, he wanted to watch her come. Bracing himself on one arm, his fingers found her sensitive bud again, rubbing against it.

“Oh God.” Emma cried out as he worked her up again. She felt another orgasm mounting in her gut as they moved together. Not one to be outdone, Emma danced her fingers along his skin until she reached his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze.

His movements stuttered, a throaty groan escaping him. “That’s not fair.”

“It’s completely fair.” She breathed as she caressed his balls heightening his pleasure.

Killian’s hips moved on their own accord as he was too far gone with pleasure and too consumed by a need to fulfill hers. He moved faster and faster, her moans spurring him on. “That’s it, love. Come for me.”

Her mind went blank as her climax hit her, seeing white behind her eyes, hearing an inhuman moan ripped from her throat. Her whole body shook as her walls clamped around him.

He buried his face in her neck as he thrusted into her, reaching his own climax. As they both came back to themselves, Killian pushed himself off of her, plopping into the mattress with little grace.

An amused huff left Emma.

Killian snuck an arm underneath her, pulling her to him.

He was kissing her before Emma could ask what he was doing. It felt good to be in his arms, having been utterly satisfied and feeling completely boneless, him kissing her like they had all of the time in the world. That, of course, caused Emma to panic. She wasn’t the girl who stayed long enough to end up in a man’s arms and enjoy the afterglow of sex. It was wham, bam, thank you Sam, and she was gone. The mere fact that it felt different with him should send her running for the hills and she didn’t even know his name. She reluctantly pulled away from his kiss. “I should go.”

Killian felt a stab of loss at her words. He wasn’t ready for her to leave yet. They needed more time. “You could stay.” He offered.

“I really shouldn’t.” Emma protested, but she made no move to leave his arms. She hoped that it was because her body physically couldn’t move at the moment, and not due to the feelings this man was stirring inside of her.

“Just long enough to get feeling back in your legs.” He suggested.

A wave of exhaustion hit her then. Three orgasms and very vigorous sex seemed to take a lot out of her. Biting back a yawn, she closed her eyes. “Five minutes.”

Killian responded with a sleepy chuckled.

They were both asleep in seconds.

It wasn’t the nightmare so much as the feeling of being suffocated that had Emma shooting up in bed, gasping for air. Her pants soon turned into a sob as she remembered the images of her dream; of florescent lights stinging her eyes while her baby boy cried, the cold feeling of handcuffs being placed around her wrists as her heart shattered, metal bars slamming every night before lights out….it was too much.

Warm hands wrapped around her shoulders. “Shh, love.” She was pulled back into his arms. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

As her cries subsided, Emma stiffened as he comforted her. She didn’t let people get close to her, especially not men. Not since that bastard that broke her heart and her ability to trust. She couldn’t do feelings; not when this man felt safe and kissed her forehead like she was something precious that could be loved. The need to bolt only grew, but Emma sensed that he wouldn’t let her leave so easily, not when she was in this state. She hated to admit it too, but she was reluctant to leave him.

With their bodies pressed together like this, she could feel him already half hard from sleep, and that sparked an idea. Sex was something that she could control and handle, and something that might make him forget about comforting her.

Killian started when her lips pressed forcefully against his as she pushed him back onto the bed. Her kiss was rough and demanding, leaving him no choice but to open up for her. He groaned when her hand wrapped around his half hard dick, moving her hand up and down to bring him to full hardness. The change in her only concerned him, so he pried his lips from her. “Love, wait.”

“Shh.” Emma kissed him again, not wanting to see the worry in his eyes, unwilling to let him show his concern. She didn’t need someone who felt for her; she just needed a good lay, and he was it.

He felt a sense of powerlessness as she kissed him into oblivion, one of her hands stroked his sensitive cock, while her other hand drifted to his balls teasing them. His hips buck up to her, a need for her growing.

Emma positioned herself over him, rubbing her wet folds against his hard dick, earning a guttural moan from him. It was heady to have this power of him, to have him watching her through half closed eyes, a look of pure desire on his face. Their eyes met as she sunk down on his cock, both moaning as she slowly took him inside of her.

Killian grabbed her hips tightly, anchoring himself to her. She was much tighter this time around, squeezing him to the point he worried he’d come right then and there like a school boy. He breathed through his nose as he looked up at her, waiting for her lead.

Emma’s eyes were closed as she adjusted to him as he felt much bigger like this, and it felt so good. Opening her eyes, she looked down at him, seeing that he was waiting for her. He was letting her lead. Bracing her hands against his chest, Emma leisurely began to move, sliding herself up and down his thick length, biting her lip as her belly tightened.

His breath caught as he watched her ride him unhurriedly, her eyes full of desire as she watched him, her bottom lip caught seductively between her teeth. He braced his feet against the mattress, matching her pace, unwilling to go faster, wanting to draw this out as long as possible. She was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen, and he wanted to have this moment forever.

They moved together, slowly building up their pleasure, and suddenly it was too much for Emma. They were supposed to be fucking, not doing whatever this was, not feeling so connected to each other. Desperate to break this spell they were under, Emma move her hips faster, needing to end this and break their connection.

Something spooked her, Killian could see that, but he didn’t want her to fear whatever was happening between them. He hadn’t felt like this in years, and even then, it hadn’t been as intense as this. Killian grasped her hips, slowing her, before pulling her to him, turning them onto their sides.

Emma was startled by this new position, but she didn’t stop him as he lifted her leg over his, moving himself so that he was half hovering over her, thrusting into her without hurry. She couldn’t maneuver as well the way he had them situated, and just as she was about to protest, he angled his thrusts just right, hitting her g-spot. His lips caressed hers lightly, almost as if he was asking permission to kiss her. Emma kissed him back, their mouths moving as languidly as their bodies were, their pleasure slowly increasing. Her hands caressed his neck as they kissed, moving down to his soft chest hair, scratching lightly against his muscles.

They broke apart when the need to breathe became too much, but their foreheads remained pressed together. They breathed each other in as they reached their peak together, her walls shuddering around him as he spilled inside of her.

As they came down from their love making, Emma began to panic, hating the feelings he stirred. The feeling of being safe and wanted, the need to be loved, the possibility of more than just a one night stand. She needed to get out of here and get far away from him.

Killian was startled when she roughly pushed him off of her.

Her legs felt like jelly as she pushed herself up, eyes scanning the dark room for her clothes. A light came on behind her and she heard the sheets rustle. Ignoring him, she grabbed her jeans, pulling them on quickly, foregoing the search for her panties. Anything to get her out of her as soon as possible.

Killian pushed himself off of the bed, cautious of her frantic movements as she jerked on her bra and blouse. He wasn’t sure what to say to hear, but he knew he didn’t want her to leave. “Love, wait…”

“No.” Emma bent down to grab her boots leaving the room. She didn’t want to wait already feeling that she was risking a lot. What was she thinking staying as long as she did? She fucking fell asleep in his arms. She never let that happen before, and why did she feel this way for a one night stand who’s name she didn’t even know?

He followed her into the main room of the apartment, grabbing her arm before she reached the door. “Please wait.” He pleaded. When she turned to look at him, her eyes were wild with panic, and it made his heart ache that she was so scared of what had transpired between them.

“Let me go.” Emma hated how small her voice sounded.

Killian wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and hold her, but he complied with her wish, letting go of her arm.

She was out the door before he could blink, leaving him feeling more hollow and alone than he had felt in years.

Her apartment was dark and silent when she returned, and Emma hoped that meant Ruby was at Belle’s or that she was asleep. She couldn’t deal with a confrontation now. Not when all she wanted to do was curl up in her bed and cry.

He was just a one night stand, but she felt like leaving him left a hole in her heart, and she didn’t know why. It was just sex. Really, really amazing sex. The best she had ever had. There was no reason that she should feel this need to get attached to him.

Maybe it wasn’t him. The sex was great, but maybe it was her loneliness that sought out attachment. Ruby was moving out after all, and it had made Emma feel alone and broken all over again. Maybe her feelings over that being on the surface was why she was latching on to this man who was there when she needed it.

She stripped off her clothes as soon as she entered her bedroom, and climbed underneath her duvet, aching with regret over leaving, and wishing that she had let him tell her his name at the very least. God, she was just too damn sensitive right now.

It had to be tied to Ruby’s moving out and not to the man himself.

He’d forever be a nameless one night stand.

It was for the best. She couldn’t get attached. As Neal had proved, she was a broken, unlovable woman, who didn’t deserve love or people who cared about her. Ruby moving out only backed that up.

She was meant to be alone.

For the first time in years, Emma cried herself to sleep.

[hellobluemeetsgreen-blog]

las’hark - MY NEW STORY ON AO3

I had a found a post on Tumblr on writing prompts for Supernatural and decide to apply it (with some changes) to Star Trek for a story. This story can also be found on AO3. by clicking HERE.    

Summary:   If there is one greater force in our lives that compels us to action, then it is love.

Chapter 1 The Eyes are the Window to the Soul Personal Log of James T. Kirk

Refrain from lengthy eye contact

Don’t think at length about his eyes. Don’t look into them for a very long time either. In fact, if you look into his eyes too long, look away as soon as you notice. Don’t compare them to chocolate, the soft fur of a teddy bear or any well-known attractive soft brown things.

+       +       +

It did not matter how long they had been working together, the best command team in the fleet and Jim felt there was still so much to learn about Spock.The first thing he noticed about the Vulcan was before the hearing as Jim requested to see the person who made such as claim on the cadet’s “cheating” the Kobayashi Maru was his eyes.

They were unlike a Vulcan, not hardened but soft and expressive yet dark and mysterious. It was if they were piercing the very soul of James T. Kirk. While at a distance Spock’s eyes seem dark and distant, Jim knew them to be on the contrary as soft and inviting. Eyes that clearly held intelligence but Jim knew they were more: eyes capable of love, capable of many emotions and incredibly sensitive for a half Vulcan. When Jim viewed those eyes again at the loss of Amanda Grayson, as Spock stood on the transporter pad. Jim felt the sadness and emptiness of those eyes with the loss of a mother Spock still needed whether he knew it or not.

Jim surmise the woman probably had seen in her son’s eyes all that her human legacy had given to Spock even if the young man displayed it or not. It was a comfort knowing her son held her eyes which displayed everything, his thoughts and feelings of sentiment. Spock had her eyes and Jim thought him even more beautiful because of it.

When in the heat of anger bent on harming Jim on the bridge of the Enterprise after returning from Delta Vega, he felt the intensity of those milk chocolate eyes as they looked into his.  It was as if no one else was on the bridge but just Spock and him.

Jim felt guilty pushing Spock well past the brink of being emotionally compromised. He felt even more ashamed it was the first moment of close contact between both men, How he wished it was some other moment which brought Jim’s emotions for the man to the forefront.

Now years later, Jim is still affected by those eyes. Sitting in the command chair, Jim looks down to his P.A.D.D.  where he views reports from the various departments.  It is a chore as Jim comes across countless errors and wonders if anyone ever took a grammar in primary school and then he sees it.  Spock’s report is punctual having never been sent in late, concise and to the point as always.

“Well Mr. Spock….” As Jim turns to thank his first officer who is seated at the science officer station, chocolate brown meet Bombay Sapphire blue.  Jim is speechless as tries to look away however the intensity of the pull is too strong and he can’t help but feel drawn to them. “Is there something you wish to convey Captain?” Feeling the swirling chasm of emotions on the edge of bursting, Jim attempts to swallow them down. “Think man, Think” “Mr. Spock has anyone ever informed you that you have brown eyes like chocolate, even like a teddy bear?” Jim whispers to himself however with Vulcan hearing Spock is able to detect it.

“Your report was satisfactory.” Jim offers instead.

Spock nods, aware he could ask the captain to clarify but refrains from doing so.  Humans have odd ways of communicating by offering what some consider impersonal so easily but have just as much difficulty conveying emotions as Vulcans.

Nyota was not one who held back such emotion when they were involved. She displayed her feelings out in the open as one would wear clothing for all to see. It was not a simple task for one such as Spock. Having heard there are individuals who bring out such emotion in others, Spock quickly thinks of the Captain. No other can bring Spock’s emotions to the surface like the Captain as a volcano on Nibiru. The volcanoes came about because the gravitational pull of the gas giants caused the core of the other planet to super heat. Spock knew he felt the human’s gravitational pull bringing about his own emotions he thought long since had been disciplined after hours of deep meditation. The Captain was able to unravel Spock in ways no one had. The Vulcan teaching of Surak never encountered James T. Kirk and if Surak had, Spock wondered what his forefather would have done? In that Volcano, Spock thought of the only one person and it was not Nyota… it was Jim. His thoughts were of those bright blue eyes filled with wonder, with imagination and life to go on without him. The Vulcan felt empty at such a thought.When the Captain saved his life, Spock tried to rationalize why would this man do so and found no logic to it. He did not understand why the Captain broke protocol in exposing the ship to the natives and in doing so went against the Prime Directive. It was not until the Captain saved the ship and crew from Khan, Jim risking his life life again but this time making the ultimate sacrifice knowing there was no coming back. As Spock runs toward the corridors leading to Warp Core in Engineering, he knows.. he feels something is wrong. Seeing Lt. Commander Scott’s face confirms it. Spock looks upon the compartment where Jim slowly crawls into. Kneeling Spock views the man he has befriended, the man he admired.   All that is heard is Jim’s erratic breathing no doubt brought on by radiation poisoning his body taking away what little life is left in the young man. Bombay Sapphire eyes once bright now shown dimly lit,  half open showing the weariness of his condition. Spock has never seen the human so frail. “How’s our ship?” Jim whispers. “Out of danger.” Spock replies. “Good..” Jim breathes out heavily. “You saved the crew” Spock confesses. “You used what he wanted against him.” Taking in what breath he can Jim adds, “That’s a nice move.” Spock leans in closer his voice breaking, “It is what you would have done.” Jim’s eyelids briefly close then open glazing into chocolate brown. “This is what you would have done.. it is only logical.” They are separated by glass but it does not separate the mixture of emotions felt between both men.  Pleading eyes into Spock and he cannot help be but be drawn into them. Why had he not seen it sooner? Why did he not acted on the man’s pull toward him? Jim looks like a frightened child more than a man as his face displays the fear inside. “I’m scared Spock.. help me not be.” Spock cannot hold back the tears which begin to form in his eyes. He never cried for the loss of his mother but now in this moment when faced losing the one person he feels a connection to,  the floodgates of emotion break through the rugged exterior of the half Vulcan. Never mind the Vulcan way, the teachings he has been taught to suppress them for Spock cannot…will not find logic in this. Waiting for his answer and when Spock remains transfixed on the scene before him Jim speaks again.“How do chose not to feel?” Spock shakes his head, eyes cast down in disbelief that he cannot stop the tears from falling, he is losing Jim. His voice cracking further, “I do not know.” Spock looks to Jim with a heavy heart breaking in his side at the thought this bright light of a man will cease.  “Right now I am failing…” Jim struggles as he tries to tell Spock,  “I want you to know why I wouldn't let you die… why I came back for you.” “Because you are my friend.” As Spock’s word left his lips, Jim begins to weaken further and each breathe is more difficult than the last. With what strength he has left. Jim raises his left hand and places his palm against the glass panel…fingers spread apart as the Vulcan would on occasion to wish the other long life and prosperity but Spock feels this is more than that.

Spock lifts his left hand and places his palm against his. Even though separated by glass, it does not separate the mixture of emotions felt between both men.

The movement feels as though it can last forever and then…a peacefulness is seen in Jim’s face. He is unafraid as he faces the unknown once again perhaps for the last time.  His eyes move toward Spock, holding on to him. Spock is transfixed unable to move though his heart is breaking.

With his last breath Jim’s lip curls in a small smile as if to let Spock know it is alright even though Spock knows it isn't. They say the eyes are the window to the soul and if that is so, Spock is gladdened to know he has felt the soul of Jim touch his life.

Jim’s hand falls away from the glass panel and Spock knows the once bright light that is James T. Kirk is no more, he feels more alone than he ever has in his life.

After reflecting on that day years ago,  Spock decides he will never look away from Jim’s eyes again. He will never turn away or shield his eyes away from the sun…his las’hark

.

[bansheesgrimoire]

Yule cont. pt4

To wit, the symbolic laurel meaning deals with:

Glory

Victory

Nobility

Immortality

Intellectual superiority

Second Sight (the gift of prophecy)

Recognition (renown) of High Achievement

Long-term Vision (“big picture” understandings)

Without a doubt, this is just a sampling of the shining qualities I see in my friend Laura.

The name meaning of Laura is kicked off primarily from the ancient Latin word laurus which means triumph/success/victory. The Latin moniker for the laurel plant is laurus nobilis, which accentuates the theme of high honor as nobilis is a term meaning nobility/regal status.

So what’s the big deal about the laurel plant?

We can look to Greco-Roman mythology for insights where Apollo was interminably and hopelessly in love with Daphne. And, in spite of his endless wooing, Daphne would have none of Apollo’s advances (in part, due to Cupid’s “reverse-action” arrow shot at Daphne which made her loathe Apollo).

Daphne’s dad, Peneus, observed Apollo’s unmerciless pursuit of his daughter and how it made her so weary. Being the kind-hearted father he was, he decided to offer Daphne a break from Apollo’s over-exuberance by transforming her into a laurel tree.

Seeing this, Apollo proclaimed the laurel tree forever sacred, forever a plant of divine status. And this, is where we see our ancient forebears creating wreaths of laurel leaves – the symbol of crowning glory and achievement as rewarded to the winners of those who have undergone Olympic challenges.

The laurel acknowledges higher accomplishment of the soul – and did so way before it was recruited as a sign of physical prowess as we see in ancient Olympic games.

Laurel leaves were used to adorn people with distinctly precious and uncommon insights. Furthermore, the mark of the laurel could only be worn by those who used their higher knowledge and spirituality to serve the public in beneficial ways.

And so, only the best, the most cunning and most noble in heart and deed were given the honor of wearing the laurel. Supreme priests, priestesses, prophets, poets, heroes and royalty would be adorned with laurel – but only if they commanded their gifts of intellect and willpower in honorable ways.

These chosen few tacitly lived by the old adage “with great power comes great responsibility” – they gave of their insight selflessly because it was their responsibility to do so – and upon these noble souls where the mantle of laurel shall rest.

I particularly love ancient Chinese views of the laurel meaning. In Chinese myth, the laurel plant is associated with the moon, and so shares its themes of femininity, intuitive power and immortality.

Within the moon lives the Jade Rabbit (interestingly, Chinese symbolism of jade is very auspicious and deals with fortune, luck, wealth and status). The Jade Rabbit is a very clever herbalist and is always busy with mortar and pestle, grinding up sacred mixtures to supply the elixir of immortality to those who are worthy of it. Laurel is said to be one of the secret ingredients used by this ancient rabbit chemist.

This may come from Chinese legend claiming one of the eight Immortals lived in the laurel bush. Hé Qióng, the Sacred Virgin and one of the eight Immortals picked laurel leaves and supplied them to the Jade Rabbit – this act is profound in symbolism – it speaks of tenderness, cooperation, feminine power, tradition and abiding by the infinite quality of both Time and Nature.

These are just some thoughts about laurel meaning, as well as the laurel’s ties to the name Laura.

As you can see from this short entry, symbolic laurel meaning is rife with import, and those who bear its name (in whole, or in part) will share these incredibly vibrant flavors in deed and personality.

••••••••••

The circle is a key feature of the wreath that expresses big stuff like: Inclusion, Unity, Wholeness, Infinity, Focus and a litany of other profound meanings. In cosmology, circles are a symbolic representation of our luminaries, the sun and moon. Circles also represent time, and the cycles of the seasons. Casting a circle in spiritual practices suggests protecting that which is enclosed. There's oodles more to contemplate about the circle. Check the full article of symbolic circle meaning here.

So what does this mean for the wreath? At its prime root, the wreath embodies the noble circle-concepts of protection, unity and balance. These concepts morph depending upon the purpose of the wreath. Specifically, wreath meaning is enhanced according to the materials with which it's made, and its function.

In order to truly appreciate the oft overlooked meaning of the wreath, I've set out a few insights about different kinds and their symbolic bearing. The idea here is to expose the rich, deep substance dwelling beneath the simplicity of the wreath. It's my hope this article prompts you to look upon every wreath with fresh perspective and renewed delight.

Meaning of Christmas Wreaths and Winter Wreaths:

These wreaths are commonly made from the lovely stuff of evergreens, like: Holly, pine, pinecones, fir, cedar, etc. Evergreens pack a powerful wallop of symbolism. They represent renewal, rebirth, everlasting life, memory and hope. Why? It all started with our observant and spiritually savvy ancestors. Way before the dawn of the industrial age, cell phones and computers - our descendants didn't have much else to do but observe how Nature worked. Early civilizations such as Native Americans, Celts and Norse noticed how evergreens kept their vim and vigor - whereas deciduous trees seemed to 'lose their life' (turning color and dropping their leaves). Early man's way of thinking was extraordinarily symbolic. They considered the constancy of life evident in evergreens and applied it to their own life experience. Specifically, the evergreen is a symbol of ongoing vitality - even in the dormant winter months. Hence, wreaths were made of evergreen material as a reminder that life is constant - even when it seems withdrawn.

If you're donning a winter wreath on your door, or making one - here are a few symbolic tips for the materials used and the meaning of Christmas wreaths:

Holly: This is the king of the dark half of the year (winter). It's resilient and lends cheer to an otherwise stark landscape. Holly is symbolic of protection, victory and good luck. Find out more about Holly Symbolism here.

Pine and Pinecones: In China, pines are symbolic of long life and prosperity. In North America, the pine is a symbol for good health and protection. The pinecone is symbolic of enhanced psychic vision and flowering awareness. Find out more about Pine Symbolism (Christmas Tree) here. Also check out Pinecone Meanings here.

Fir: The fir shares much of the same symbolism as the pine, with a few additions. Ancient Celts assessed this sturdy tree and deemed it worthy of noble traits like: Strength, friendship, connection, memory and immortality. Find out more about Fir Symbolism here.

Not only was its girth tremendous, its height was towering. Some ash trees are known to soar over 200 feet tall. Such incredible growth owes credit to a fantastic root system.

It's mass, height, and deeply imbedded roots were all metaphors for the spiritually minded Celts (and us too). The ash speaks to us of growth, expansion, and higher perspective. If we think symbolically as the ancient Celts were apt to do, we can liken our own soul-growth with that of the ash. With greater (higher) attainment, the more we need to stay grounded (well rooted).

This concept falls right in line with the mystic message of the ash. Indeed, certain druid accounts indicate the realm between earth and sky were connected or held together by the mighty ash.

Although it is associated with the element of air, the ash is also akin to the fire element for its amazing burning qualities. The wood of the ash burns with intense heat, even when green. This surfaced ideas of resurrection and renewal for the Celts.

The ash was commonly used for protective rituals because it was believed that helpful energies were contained within its great body. Specifically, the ash was thought to be the guardian of children, and was often used as a healing agent for childhood illnesses.

Its association with children may come from creation myths within Celtic lore. In some accounts the ash was considered the cradle of life, so too was it considered a gentle giant and a protector of youth.