#not intending to be shady! nothing happened that i’m commenting on except that i got this line in my current play through again lol

[lyriumlullaby-ao3]

an underrated line from Inquisition is one you get from Josie after ‘Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts’ if you tell her you felt out of place at the Winter Palace. She tells your Inquisitor that all sorts of serious conflicts have started over petty things like dropping the wrong spoon in Orlais, then says,

“Never underestimate the enmity of those for whom outrage is a sport.”

i dunno, i just feel like that… hits on… something relevant… can’t quite put my finger on it. no way to be sure. /s /lh

[jooonie]

Training

Eren Jaeger X Reader Smut

summary: it’s your first day of training to become a scout and someone asks for your help. (except you guys are older!)

Y/N POV

I tried to ignore the sun’s rays that were beating down harshly onto my face. Still, I stood at attention and tried my hardest not to move an inch as Commander Shadis loomed over me. I swallowed my nerves and kept my eyes looking forward all the while trying to slow my heart rate. I heard a soft ‘hmph’ come from the Commander as he shuffled to the next victim. I let go of the breath I was holding and heard a small voice next to me.

“You handled that a lot better than I would have.” The voice murmured. I didn’t dare steal a glance to see who was talking, but a small laugh almost forced its way out of my mouth. I ever so slightly moved my eyes to see where Shadis was before opening my mouth to reply.

“All you gotta do is breathe.” I whispered, trying to relieve the nerves of the mysterious person next to me. I heard them take in a deep breath before slowly letting it out. They proceeded to do this until the shuffling of the Commander was heard next to us once again. I quickly darted my eyes back to looking directly ahead, but made sure to listen closely to what was happening beside me.

“Why are you shaking, boy?” Commander Shadis asked the guy. I heard him take in another deep breath before letting it out slowly. I saw the Commander straighten his posture before walking away.

“Dismissed!” Shadis yelled, and all of the trainees scattered back to the main building. I plopped down onto the dirt and finally let my heart slow down. I heard someone sit down beside me. This time I peaked up to see a guy about my age with brown hair and beautiful green eyes. I couldn’t help the small smile that tugged on my features.

“Thanks for the tip. I was about to pass out when he came up to me.” He laughed. I watched his eyes crinkle up as he slightly leaned back. I couldn’t help but laugh with him.

“I’m Eren by the way.” He informed me once we were done with our laughing fit. I responded with my own name before taking in a deep breath and looking up at the sky. I heard the happy screams of our friends back at the training headquarters, causing Eren and I both to look back.

“Looks like they’re serving food now. Hungry?” I asked him. I watched his eyes switch between me and the building and couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“Nah I’d rather sit out here and look at the sky.” He mumbled, laying back into the dirt. I grimaced at the thought of getting dirt in my hair until I remembered that I’ve literally been covered in titan spit. I laughed quietly at my own remarks before laying down near Eren. A sigh escaped through my nose as my body relaxed on the hard ground.

“Beautiful.” Eren murmured. I grinned up at the sky before peaking at him. My eyes caught his and my face felt like it was on fire. That fire quickly died out as cold wind hit me out of nowhere. I shivered and unintentionally scooted closer to where Eren lay. Sadly, it was becoming way too cold for me. I didn’t want to leave Eren’s side but I felt as if I was going to freeze to death.

“We should get inside before titans come and eat us.” I joked, grabbing Eren’s hand and dragging him up off of the ground with me. He let out another laugh before we both ran inside. When we stepped through the doors, we noticed all of the lights were out and the dining room was cleaned up. I gave Eren a light smile before deciding to quietly drag him to my room. I looked around and noticed I had only one roommate, Sasha. She was fast asleep, and soon enough little snores started to emit from her body.

Was this a bad idea? Probably.

“Here. It’ll be warmer under the blankets.” I said, giving Eren a sideways glance in hopes he doesn’t run away. Instead, I could just see his cheeks glow a light pink as a small smile stretched across his features. I dragged Eren to the edge of the bed before sliding in, Eren following shortly after. I moved the blanket over both of our bodies before laying on my side to face him. I watched his chest rise and fall slowly, and it was so quiet I swore I could hear his heartbeat. Eventually, he flipped on his side too. Our noses centimeters apart.

“You’re really pretty.” Eren breathed out suddenly. His eyes grew wide as he dragged his hands down his face with a silent groan. I couldn’t help but laugh a little bit, feeling slightly embarrassed from the compliment.

“I definitely didn’t mean to say that out loud.” He continued. My smile was so big that my cheeks were starting to hurt. It took me a while, but I eventually felt one of Eren’s large hands on my hip. I unintentionally took my bottom lip in between my teeth. His thumb circled the skin that was showing from under my shirt, leaving a burning sensation in its place. Eren dragged his fingers across my abdomen, pushing them up under my shirt. I felt his hands drag across my bra before going back down across my stomach. He held eye contact with me the whole time, even as he wedged his fingertips into the waistband of my pants. I could tell that he was looking for permission, so I simply nodded my head yes.

I felt his fingers rub against my panties, feeling my folds through the fabric. I let out a soft moan, making sure to stay quiet. Eren pushed one of his fingers up, applying pressure right onto my clit. I pushed my hand against his chest as I instinctively squished my thighs together, bringing my knees closer to my body.

Suddenly Eren pulled his hand out of my pants, causing me to let out a defeated sigh. He brought his face closer to mine, our lips crashing in a heated passion. It didn’t last long as he pulled away, and seemingly started to get up. As I went to ask him where he was going, he had crawled under the blankets and towards the edge of the bed. It was until that very moment when I felt him push my legs apart that I finally understood. I felt hot kisses on my inner thighs through my jeans. I scrunched up the bed sheets with my hands, looking for something to grab ahold of.

Then, without a warning, my pants were basically ripped off of me, my panties following closely behind. I got to feel the hot kisses on my skin now, feeling fingers graze ever so softly across my core. That’s when I almost lost it, when I felt Eren’s warm tongue sliding up my folds. I slapped my hand over my mouth and looked over to still see Sasha’s sleeping figure in her bed. My thighs squeezed Eren’s head, to which he grabbed the underside and held them apart. This allowed him to reach even more of me, driving me insane.

Then, once again, the pleasure was ripped away from me. This caused me to become extremely frustrated. That was until I saw Eren’s goofy face peak up at me from under the blanket. I couldn’t help but snicker at his expression. He crawled up towards my face, giving me another heated kiss. This allowed me to taste myself on him, and for some reason it was extremely hot. Eren sat up, leaning on his knees. I raised an eyebrow at him as he unzipped his pants, pulling them down just enough to where he had access to his dick through his boxers. Suddenly feeling embarrassed, I looked away. I heard Eren ‘tsk’ at me before his fingers pinched my chin, bringing my eyes back up to his.

“Do you wanna do this?” He asked, green eyes sincere yet full of lust. I looked back down at his erection and decided that there was no way I could say no. So I gave him a nod, which put a smile on his face. He reached toward his dick, pulling it out of his boxers. He stroked himself lazily as I basically drooled over the sight of it.

“Oh. I don’t have a condom.” Eren commented. I pursed my lips together, still watching intently as he grabbed himself. I let a small sigh escape my nose before I laughed.

“Do your best then.” I replied, causing Eren to snort before crashing his lips back down on mine. I caught his bottom lip with my teeth, biting down hard enough to make him wince. He kissed his way down my neck, sucking and biting in random places. He unbuttoned my shirt, looking hungrily at my bra. Instead of unclipping it, he reached inside and grabbed one of my boobs, pulling it out and immediately kissing and sucking all over it. My hands found his hair, tugging hard as to keep my mind off of moaning. This caused Eren to groan lowly, making me even more wet.

He lined himself up with me, sliding his tip through my folds every once in a while before looking up at me with impatience. Once again, I gave him a nod. He waisted no time, pushing himself inside of me. I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed my head into the pillow. Once he was bottomed out, he stayed there allowing me to adjust. I could tell it was killing him, so I tried to get comfortable as soon as possible.

“O-okay. Go ahead.” I whispered, trying to hold back my moans. Eren started off slowly, pushing in and pulling out every now and then. Finally, it started to feel good. Like- really good. My fingernails dug into his back, definitely leaving red marks.

“Faster...” I groaned, a bit louder than I intended to. This seemed to fuel Eren as he sat up, holding both of my legs together on one of his shoulders. With my legs squished together, it made me feel every inch of Eren’s dick slipping in and out of my entrance. Judging from the noises escaping his throat, it felt good to him too.

“You better....h-hurry up. I don’t know how much longer I can hold it.” Eren barely managed to get out between breaths. I let out a strange mix of a moan and a breathy laugh at his words. Trying to speed myself up, I brought my own hand down to my folds. I peaked through hooded eyes to see Eren watching as I pleasured myself. He rolled his head back along his shoulders, softly groaning.

As I got closer to my climax, I rested my tongue on my bottom lip and breathed through my mouth. My eyebrows knit closely together with every thrust and my fingers worked my core quicker.

“Oh god Eren.” I mumbled, nothing slowing down. My walls started to clench around him before he suddenly pulled out, leaving me for only a second before his mouth connected to my core. Two fingers replaced where his dick once was, working me quickly. I was confused at first, but the pleasure was too much to handle as I grabbed his head and pushed him harder onto me.

Finally, I let go all around his fingers and on his face. He licked up my folds once more, causing my body to jolt at the sensitivity. When he pulled back, I gave him a strange look.

“Why’d you stop so soon?” I asked. He smirked and looked down at his thighs. My eyes followed his and I couldn’t help but cover my mouth with my hand to keep from laughing. He had his cum sticking to his legs and abdomen, it was pretty sexy to look at.

He laid down beside me, careful not to get his mess anywhere on the bed. He looked up at me and gave me one last kiss before opening his mouth to reply.

“Close one.”

[veinsandknuckles]

Long hard road, pt 2

So, this is a new part 2, making what used to be part 2 part 3. Makes total sense, right?

Vimes/f!Reader Slow burn AU where Vimes isn’t married. Will definitely become hard R down the line. Content warnings: none Read part 1 here, part 3 here One sunny day about two weeks after Stone’s arrival, you found him lurking in a shady corner of the courtyard, leaning against a crate with an amused expression on his face. Today you were shirking so you followed his gaze to see what he was seeing.

It was Conrad and one of the local boys, around thirteen or so, engaged in a mock battle with a stick each for a sword. They weren’t playing, either. Conrad stopped every other minute to give minute advice with an air of great authority. Stone nodded to you when you joined him. “He’s always fancied himself a bit of a strongman, I think,” you said by way of a greeting. Conrad did have endless stories about his adventures, and it was fun to keep track of the details he got wrong with each retelling. “He’s got the posture down, I’ll give him that.”  It really was the kind of form you’d see in an instructional engraving; shoulders drawn back, chin in the air and his free hand behind his back. The boy caught him a blow on the outside of the thigh and Conrad loudly discounted it as unsportsmanlike. It was hard to tell if the kid was actually holding on to his every word, or just playing along for the excuse to beat a grown man and get away with it.

“Could you do better?”

Stone looked over at you with a suspicious frown. Then he shook his head. “You can’t bait me that easily.”

You nodded to the sword at his side. He never left the inn without it, and as plain as it was, it couldn’t be because he worried about it going missing. “So, what, you just carry that thing to impress the ladies?”

“Good grief.” But he must be in a good mood because then he smiled with a faraway look in his eye. “You know, I did try that for a time in my youth. When things grew desperate.”

“Did it work?”

“Nope.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure where that idea came from in the first place.” Conrad had backed the kid up against a wall with the point of the stick at his chest and looked a little too pleased about his victory. “In my experience, any excited talk between women about a big sword and the like is usually intended as a humorous metaphor.”

“You give men too much credit if you think we can tell the difference.” Stone still smiled, but you knew his words were a little too true for comfort. It was interesting that he could join in with this kind of talk so easily as long as it remained impersonal.

When Conrad turned his back to return to his starting position, the kid whacked him with his full strength across the leg. Conrad howled and nearly lost his balance. You couldn’t help laughing and the two knights in training finally discovered their audience. The boy bolted, Conrad scowled and limped off towards the kitchen, throwing the stick to the ground as he went.

“Show’s over,” said Stone and stood up straight. “Suppose I’d better get my own exercise in while there’s some daylight left.”

“Want some company?”

He sighed with an expression that was half amused, half irritated. “Do I have a choice?”

Of course he did, but if you said so he’d feel obligated to turn you down. He had to be able to tell himself he was being befriended against his will. After all, if he really wanted to avoid you, you knew he was more than capable of being impolite enough to say so. “What do you think?”

“Fine. A short walk, then.” Stone gestured for you to choose a direction and you headed out through the gates with him beside you, falling quickly into his leisurely pace.

The thaw had gotten an early start this year and everyone was fooled by it into hoping it would last, despite years of experience to the contrary. Every winter it was the same way - half a week of mild, sunny weather and not even the born locals could help thinking that this time it might be different, this time spring might arrive a month before it was due. Perhaps it was just human nature to talk big about expecting the worst and getting suckered despite of it.

Stone seemed a wonderful exception to this rule. There didn’t seem to be a silence thick enough to tempt him into speaking of the weather. He walked beside you, occupied with his own thoughts, completely at his ease.

“How long do you think you’ll be staying with us, mr Stone?”

He snorted. “Not a moment longer than I have to.”

The road you followed clung to the side of the mountain and bordered on the other side to dense pine forest growing from almost vertical ground. The little buildings of the inn huddled together on one of the wider plateaus and marked the edge of real vegetation before the path continued up towards the pass. You had just reached a bend in the road, a perfect vantage point to take in the stunning view of the mountain range to the side and the valleys below. On such a clear day, you could see the wide river even from here, snaking through the landscape like a silver inlay.

“How is it possible to tire of all this?”

Stone raised his eyebrows and regarded it dispassionately. “It’s just nature.”

You laughed. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

“Since when are you so in love with the place? Thought you were bored to tears.”

“I’m not,” you conceded and tore yourself away from the view. “Just making the best of it.”

Stone took the lead now and followed the next trail leading in between the trees.

“Why not leave?”

“And go where? To do what?”

“I don’t know,” Stone shrugged. “You must want more than this, surely. You could settle down, start a family...” His ears caught up with his mouth and you saw him screw his eyes shut and shake his head.

Because of course the height of every woman’s ambition is a husband and children. You laughed and elbowed him in the side. “Mr Stone, are you offering to take me away from all of this?”

“Hah!” For once, he looked more amused than uncomfortable with the suggestion. “That’s me, walking model of fairy tale prince.”

“I’d say you’re more like the dangerous, good-for-nothing rogues that my mother should have warned me about. I’m sure you’ve left a few broken hearts in your wake.”

Stone snorted. “Right. You’ve really got me pegged.”

You bit your lip and kept watching him, but he was resolutely focused on the trail ahead. It didn’t seem like false modesty; he really did seem completely ignorant of his own charms. How could he not be, if he mistook every kind of flirtation for a joke?

Perhaps you weren’t his type. It happened. Not every man was ready to pounce on every opportunity that presented itself. Perhaps he didn’t want to pounce on anything in the first place.

But if that were the case, surely he would say so, instead of sarcastically playing along or pretending to misunderstand you. Whatever other obstacles may present themselves, the first and largest was that he wouldn’t believe you.

“Oh well,” you said. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“No, I suppose I can’t,” he said, as if wishing he could. “But I can judge you for having poor taste.”

That was exactly the kind of comment you could hardly interpret as anything other than encouragement for you to continue.

“Are you asking to be complimented?”

Stone half turned towards you with a look of startled dread. “Absolutely not.”

Exasperated, you rolled your eyes and decided to drop it for the time being. “Fine. You pick a subject, then.”

For a moment, it seemed as if Stone couldn’t pull himself back together. The silence was thick and uncomfortable and you could have sworn you saw him, out of the corner of your eye, looking at you with some earnestness.

“Do you... er. Have you lived here long?”

“A few years.” The poor man really was ready to scrape the bottom of the barrel, but you felt like you owed him a little help in steering back into safer waters. “You’re from Ankh-Morpork, aren’t you?”

The little path forked up ahead and Stone chose the path that looped around to the other side of the inn. He really had explored his surroundings. “I suppose that’s not much of a secret.”

“The accent is pretty strong.”

“Huh.” He sniffed. “Your Morporkian is, er... it’s very good.”

“Thank you.”

“Must be from reading all those books.” He’d seen you read once, but apparently that was enough to set you down as a confirmed book worm.

For a while, you walked together in silence and slowly his ruffled feathers seemed to settle down. It was beautiful out here, every shadow in the snow a rich blue, every dapple of sunshine glowing peach and gold as the afternoon wore on. Your footfalls made a pleasant, hypnotising creaking sound with each step you took.

Before you could think it through, you asked a question that had been weighing on you for some time. “Is it safe for you to be here?”

There was a pause. “...for me or for you?”

Oh gods. “Either, I suppose.”

Stone thought this through. He looked very weary.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I suppose we’ll find out.”

You tried to smile. “I guess I wasn’t too far off with the ‘dangerous rogue’ thing, then.”

“Well, you knew that already.”

“Yeah... next time you should have a backstory and name picked out before you introduce yourself.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” he replied drily.

Despite everything he’d said (and failed to say) and despite how incredibly intimidating he could be, it was impossible for you to view Stone as a threat. If he had tried to make himself likeable or if he’d tried harder to bullshit an excuse for being here in the first place, it would have been another thing altogether. He didn’t seem as if he wanted anyone to like him very much and that indifference was predictably irresistible.

He was just so... self-contained. He seemed perfectly content on his own and perfectly careless of his reputation. His attitude towards whatever danger he was in seemed to consist mostly of boredom, as if he was just waiting to get it over with and wasn’t all that invested in the outcome. In many ways, he was untouchable, and of course that only made you more desperate to try. It was also very difficult to believe he didn’t have to fight people off with a stick.

You should really know better. So far everything had gone his way, which meant he could afford to be a gentleman, but who knew what desperation could drive him to do? When his reality caught up with him, you might all be acceptable casualties - to him as well as to whoever, or whatever, was chasing him. Somehow, all these facts were trumped by a strong gut feeling in his favour and here you were, walking beside him feeling as safe as if you’d known him for years.

The inn was coming back into view. Stone was deep in thought, but when the climb to get back onto the road got a little steep, he scaled it ahead of you, turned and offered his hand to help pull you up.

It was big, rough and warm - you felt the heat of his skin even through your mittens - and yours seemed almost to disappear into his grip. With a slowly creeping flush you realised that your attraction to him had grown much quicker than you had intended it to. Soon, if he kept deflecting your advances, you might find yourself too shy to continue them or, if you were very careless, growing lovesick.

“Thank you,” you said as you stepped onto the road and he immediately let go. You worried that you might have sounded a little too breathless and sincere.

“Course.” Stone cleared his throat and walked briskly towards the stables. “And, er. Thank you for the company. Although,” and he shot you a glance, “it shouldn’t become a habit. Seems all people do round here is gossip.”

“Of course.” You couldn’t deny it even if you wanted to, but it was very sweet of him to care about your reputation. “We wouldn’t want anyone to think you were a loose man.”

The shadow of the house crossed your path and Stone immediately seemed more at ease when he stepped into it. You could sense that he wanted to be alone with his thoughts now and so you forced a little smile and waved him off. A curt nod, and then he slunk in among the buildings, off to do whatever mysterious things usually filled his time.

[illusionlockarchive]

pazam: a mess, truly a mess

so i usually dont do these kind of posts, i guess you could say its a call out of some sort? but i never liked that word, i prefer rather to just compile sources on WHY people would believe that a certain person is not truly as nice and understanding as they seem. consider this more of a psa post, detailing on whats going on with pazam on the sfm community, why so many people are against them.

So, a while back, tumblr user jymble made a post on the main tag stating that pazam was transphobic. they linked back to this post, which contains screenshots of pazam in a group chat stating that they do not feel comfortable with the idea of trans people. now, this did happen 9 months ago, true. however, for the record, pazam is already an adult, 24 years old, so they should have some tact. and as further and more recent events will show, they actually havent changed that much at all, at least not as they claim.

the screenshots should be in the post, but here is a transcript

[Screenshot one]

Pazam:

What????? Why?????

I literally HAVE NOT been doing ANYTHING malicious to them

And if it did I apologized

Yes I do have discomfort about them but I keep it to myself

Why are you doing this????

[End screenshot one]

‘Them’ here refers to trans people in general. Notice the defensive and victimizing stance they almost immediately take upon being confronted about their feelings on trans people.

[Screenshot two]

elliott:

of COURSE you dont

sammaku:

Like specifically

Elliott hush

Pazam:

This whole concept of transness and changing your gender physically

I hate to say it again but it weirds me out and it makes me question my own gender which flings me into anxiety, depression, and obsession

sammaku:

Its fine to not understand but are you willing to learn about it

Pazam:

I don’t want to talk about this anymore

sammaku:

That depression anxiety and obsession just comes with gender issues

(the rest of the text is cut off)

[End Screenshot two]

notice once summaku asks them if they would at least be willing to learn about it, pazam immediately deflects it by saying they dont want to talk about it anymore.

[Screenshot three]

Pazam:

Seriously??? That’s all it takes????

Wow I’m a moron

I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused to you

@.aziraphale @.elliott @.sammaku

I just don’t get this stuff period

And I’ve gotten into trouble with this stuff before

I’ll probably never understand it for the rest of my life but I’ll try to be more tactful around y’all

Especially since you’re all young

And I’m like an adult

[End screenshot three]

While at first this would seem like they had finally learned their lesson and apologized, the things they add on after the @s become quickly worrying. Not only do they admit to ‘have gotten into trouble with this stuff before’, meaning they have probably shown their transphobia in other places and been called out, but they also stand firmly on the fact that they will never understand it or ‘get’ it.

And of course, as jymble points out, the implication that the people they were talking to were only acting like that because they were young.

A while after this post was made, Pazam had posted an apology, and went onto contact jymble asking for the post with the evidence of their transphobic to be taken down. The reason? They were afraid people would see it and think they were still transphobic and not give them a chance.

In this more recent post, you can see the conversation play out between Pazam and jymbles. Long story short, Pazam feels that it’s unfair that that post is still up after they apologized, and jymble of course said they would rather not take it down, people deserve to know what they did and take their own conclusions, even if that involves avoiding them. How does Pazam respond? By flat out deleting the apology post. I’d love to show the apology post to give you both sides of the story but I cannot anymore, because Pazam in a very bizarre move just deleted it because they got mad a trans blogger wouldn’t take down their post with proof.

Here’s the transcript of the screenshots:

[Begin Conversation]

rebloggidy (Pazam’s personal):

I’m by no means transphobia-free after learning what I’ve done but at least I know my actions and am making an effort to be a better person towards trans people.

rebloggidy:

Hi again. So I hate to be that person but would it be ok if you took down that post about the transphobia claims? I know it took me 9 months to apologize but if people only see your side of the story and not realize the post I saw they’ll take it out of context and still think I’m transphobic. Do you understand?

jymble:

... i already told you im not taking down the post.

[jymble sends a screenshot of her own message in a previous conversation, the screenshot reads as follows:

however, i dont think im taking the post down, nor am i entirely comfortable with you interacting with me either. people deserve to know how you acted with this stuff, until youre really and truly *better* with it instead of just trying, and i was a direct target of it]

jymble:

you oughright told me "im by no means transphobia-free", word for word sorry, but i told you before. im not taking the post down.

rebloggidy:

I remember that. But what I'm trying to say to you is that if people who read it out of context will immediately think I'm still transphobic without the other side of it (my comment)

And I don't want people to think that in the future

jymble:

if people make assumptions without looking at the entire situation, thats on them

i am not deleting the post and thats final. people have a right to know what youve done, and they have a right to be uncomfortable

rebloggidy:

I'm ready to take down my post because frankly, I'm sick and tired of having to justifiy something that I did 9 months ago, and that people grow and learn even not 100% during that time and I'm ready to move on.

I'm still into smile for me and feel free to make a blacklist of my name so anybody who rbs my work on your dash can have it hidden or something.

Take care.

[End conversation]

a lot to unpack here, but perhaps most notable is when jymble simply stands her ground and tells pazam she wont take down the post, pazam straight up decides, without being told to or anything, that they should take down their apology. later on, they made a post stating why they deleted the post, and saying they had ‘been forced to’.

I also would love to link it here, but as of now of writing this, like, not even an hour or so after I had seen that post, it got deleted. The only memory I have of it is a conversation I had with my boyfriend about Pazam, in which I copypasted a fragment from that post that read:

“ So for those wondering where the apology post went, I was forced to delete it. I wanted to archive it in some way so I could pull it up for reference, but there was no way I could. Also I didn’t really want to see it every time on my blog because quite honestly it’s upsetting to look at.”

There are some lies and twisting of truths here. Pazam wasn’t forced to delete it, they decided they should do it as a way to somehow get back at jymble. And the excuse that it was upsetting for them to look at is just inexcusable, what matters most, letting people know of what youve done and that youre sorry, or just never addressing the situation?

But, well, I’m just hoping you’ll take my word for it. As you see, Pazam has officially deleted ANY traces of acknowledging this situation on their blog.

This worries me. If Pazam is truly as concerned that they will be seen as transphobic as they claim, why are they deleting anything that could give them a chance of showing their own side of the story?

Now, that is the end, for now, of Pazam’s history with transphobia. However! It is not the end for some other very shady things.

Namely, Pazam has consistently whitewashed characters from Smile For Me, specially Kamal, and when called out on it, simply deletes the asks.

Want to know how I know this?

I sent them an ask myself. I had come across this picture of Boris and Kamal:

And I knew that this wasn’t right. I can understand using light colors and doing watercolor, but if they can make Boris’ hair brown and vivid enough, why not Kamal? He looks like another character completely, or like he’s deathly sick! 

So I sent them an anonymous ask, perhaps a bit exhasperated, true, and my wording could be better. It went something like: “i am begging you to draw kamal with darker skin”.

I waited, checked. But nothing came of it. They never answered it.

Pazam flat out ignored when they were told they had drawn a canonically brown man with skin way too light. Not even a lone text post saying ‘hey anon, i dont agree with you’ or ‘hey anon im sorry it wont happen again’. Nothing. No word, no opinion.

And with this situation going on with them evading responsibility, I can’t say I’m fully surprised.

And, yet another thing. People had expressed concern over the fact they had drawn their Flower Kid, who is 17, in very intimate and close positions with Dr. Habit. It included nuzzling faces, cuddling in bed together, wearing his coat...

And they did hear the claims this time. As of now, their Flower Kid is 24, according to them.

Except... They do not look 24. At. All.

this is a 12 year old. at best. short body, stubby legs, big head. those are all attributes of a very young character, usually children. like, legitimately, thats how childrens anatomy is in real life. the younger the person, the bigger their head is in proportion to their body.

We have already had an adult trying to justify drawing their flower kid who barely looked like an adult if at all in intimate situations with Habit. Let’s not let it slide by again.

And yes, I’m aware Pazam claims that those pictures were not supposed to be interpreted as romantic, ‘only platonic fluff’ and that they intend to keep it that way, but I have talked to my boyfriend who is a survivor and he said it very well could be a case of someone just trying to cover their tracks.

BUT, all that being said, maybe this one particular instance could be just us being wary. Still, it does not diminish all that they have done, specially ignoring the whitewashing claims.

What you are going to do with this information, I do not know. Maybe you don’t care and will keep reblogging their content. Maybe you’re disgusted by them. But I’m just here to give you the facts. Personally though, I’m not willing to give them much of a chance after the way they’ve behaved. They are 24 years old, three years older than me, and I think I could do a better job of handling a situation like this, frankly.

[mwritesink]

A mumble mumble of thoughts about Fire Emblem Three Houses

Right. So I’ve completed all four routes of three houses and I have thoughts. 

I mean, big thought is that I love the game considering that I went right back in and started another play through of Blue Lions. and sooner or later I’ll pick back up my written let’s play but not right now because I’m over extended as it is and playing three houses has been both a solace from my own over extension and a perpetuator of it. 

Anyway

This is not meant to be a well thought out essay, it’s just my thoughts and not really going in for debate because that way only lies me being depressed. 

I like all the routes, each has their strengths and weaknesses and I find the writing overall, while not galaxy brained good, is pretty damned good, and it does an interesting turn with making sure that no route gives you the full picture of the world of Fodlan. You have to play the entire game to scratch the surface of the truth, and even then players still have to cobble together what the facts actually are. The only characters that have all the cards are Rhea and the Agarthans. Rhea keeps hers fairly close to the chest, letting out one or two if there is no other choice, but the Agarthans have more cards than Rhea and are willing to play the ones that enhance their worldview.  

yes there are flaws in the writing and it isn’t as tight as one might hope for being able to tie up it’s loose ends and keep the plot as internally consistent as it would need for having, essentially, four AUs stacked on top of each other. The weaknesses of the writing fall largely on the plot and it’s treatment of who exactly are the antagonists and the motivations therein. 

I really like Edelgard, and I really like Rhea. However, the writing does a disservice to both of them. for the first half of the game, Rhea is set up to be a smiling antagonist. You have Jeralt being openly suspicious of her, you have Seteth questioning her decisions and being summarily shot down without answers, you have a noted instance of the church executing a person for an incident unrealted to the church and without trial (yes mitigating circumstances that are only found out through supports), you have the Lonato incident where raising an army (of civilians by all implications) merits the death of both him and the civilians (yes he intended to use that army to attack the central church and yes there is definitely an argument that she only marshals the church as a reaction to a threat). Nothing in the School Phase is set up to have a player trust Rhea at first blush. But in the second half, when she’s not there, the writing does an about face to say that no, really, you should have been trusting her the whole time. Except in Crimson Flower where she becomes the spiritual/end game antagonist. 

Yes I know she has her reasons for being shady and keeping her secrets close and the truth of the world closer, but it doesn’t change the about face re: trust the game gives her. 

Now for Edelgard. Edelgard is in a tough place writing wise. One the one hand, she’s the Big Red Emperor/physical antagonist on Silver Snow and Verdant Wind, and both the spiritual and physical antagonist in Azure Moon. On the other, she’s the protagonist of her own route, the face of the game’s advertising, and the speaker of the game’s theme. I believe the writing really did her dirty. They try to pull her in too many directions at the same time, so her motivations, tactics, and ideals all get thrown into a cocktail shaker that never pours out the same drink twice. It then becomes very easy for fans to take their selected drink and run with it, while not considering the other drinks made, or what all those drinks together might make. It doesn’t help that, of the three lords, Edelgard’s development as a character, and the impacts of her rule, are most impacted by the presence and absence of other people at her side. (Ex. If Petra dies, there is no independence for Brigid. Ex. the changes rendered by Byleth being present or absent) 

(Though… does that mean if you don’t recruit Petra in non Black Eagles Runs Brigid becomes a vassal state of united Fodlan no matter what?)

 Moving on. 

There are some interesting culture clash that happens in the writing where assumptions have been made by the writers that don’t translate to non-Japanese audiences. I commented a couple times to my friends that I found it weird that the students you don’t teach call you “professor” or “teach”, and that it was probably evidence of the fact that the player might have changed Byleth’s name. This comment was generally accepted until my GF reminded me that the Japanese high schools work by having the teachers go around to all classes even if they’re also in charge of homeroom for a particular class. For all it’s western trappings and influences, the Officer’s Academy is very much a Japanese highschool, down to the differences in how the named students personalize their uniforms across gender lines. However, the game itself fails to get this across, as it only shows Byleth teaching their chosen house and interacting with students outside their house only on weekends. This then is also how Edelgard comes off as being very weirdly attached to Byelth when Byleth chooses one of the other houses. But if Byleth is teaching all classes and is just special homeroom teacher for one of them, then it makes more sense. 

In any case, cultural assumptions aside, the school phase and training options were one of the things that I went into the game with the most trepidation about, but after playing it’s one of the more fun aspects to plot and plan what classes I’m going to give people and how to get there. The New Game+ features are also turning into a boon for my idea of Bolt Axe Annette as a Gremory (just need to get her to Gremory… and get a Bolt Axe for her). I don’t think I would like the training aspect if they did it again in a future fire emblem game, but as a one off “here’s a feature specifically for Fire Emblem Three Houses” it works. 

I mentioned Byleth earlier, and I gotta say, of the character writing, which on the whole is fairly strong, their writing is one that sits the least well with me. My assumptions for this is that it had to do with the fact that Byleth is an avatar character, with a limited amount of customization, especially compared to Robin and Corrin, so they made up for it by writing as much of a blank slate character as possible so the player could superimpose a personality of their choosing.  It makes sense in game play, giving the plot mandated dye job, but it feels weird to have such a pivotal character who cannot express their own opinions in a meaningful way. I wish Byleth was a fully fleshed out character rather than a player stand in, and it would make the growth we are told they go through more impactful and meaningful. Potentially the writing wouldn’t need to change much, aside from Byleth being able to make definitive statements about anything without being interrupted, and letting Byleth fight for their point of view instead of it being dismissed out of hand by other characters. 

Also, can you imagine the hilarity of comedic straight man Dedue educating Comedic straight person Byleth on the basics of gardening, because as a mercenary Byleth would have never had the time? Can you imaging support conversations where you can really tackle what being raised a mercenary with no context of what the Church of Seiros is? 

And so I roll into my last point: Missed opportunities. 

For as much as I like large swaths of the writing, I feel like there’s been a lot of missed opportunities that could have been expanded on but weren’t, and so there’s a lot of what if’s that float about. As an example, I don’t particularly like Raphael, but that’s because I wish his supports did more than revolve around “Raphael eats and because he’s eating doesn’t hear what people are saying to him, and this results in friendship”. There is a lot that you can do with a big cheerful guy who’s in it to protect his sister and his friends that is more than a gimmick, and for Raphael in particular, I think it would do a lot for him to have more writing like how he got in his paralogue with Ignatz, where he can see an issue, knows there’s an issue, but decides to handle it in his own way, even if that way is one the player and his friends might disagree with so he can keep on being the big cheerful guy. 

There are more examples from that, and missed connections, and places where a Support that only goes up to B could have been strengthened with a potential A support. 

In the end, I love this game, I don’t mind replaying it over and over again, cause each time I’ve noticed something different and been able to try something new which alters my playstyle (trying to get Wyvern Master Dedue! Wish me luck in overcoming that red arrow next to flying). And I’ll likely go back to it for years to come.

[so-shiny-so-chrome]

Witness: KirkyPet

Creator name (AO3): KirkyPet 

Creator name (Tumblr): kirkypet 

Link to creator works: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KirkyPet/works

Q: Why the Mad Max Fandom?

A: I was actually quite fixated on Fury Road after watching it on DVD. I didn’t expect to particularly like it - I’d never seen the previous Mad Max movies (I finally have!) - but I was transfixed. And I didn’t particularly ship Furiosa and Max until the haemothorax/transfusion scene (although then I very much did). There were just so many layers of detail and backstory there waiting to be explored, because so little was actually said or explained. It’s like a neutron star of fic-fodder. And I didn’t discover ao3 til summer 2016 so I spent a full year wandering around like a lost soul. So, yeah. Quite a huge deal for me really.

Q: What do you think are some defining aspects of your work? Do you have a style? Recurrent themes?

A: Music. Minor characters looking on and commenting on the protagonists (big fan of Thomas Hardy’s more comedic efforts, where this happens a lot). Reasonably happy endings.

Q: Which of your works was the most fun to create? The most difficult? Which is your most popular? Most successful? Your favourite overall?

A: Maybe the small town modern AU (Ordinary People), because it was a nice change from the Wasteland setting. I’m not very Wasteland-minded at all. But the Bladerunner AU (Do Androids Dream etc) and the new Firefly AU are lots of fun because the two sets of movie worlds mesh together way better than I’d expected. 

The most difficult? - My Wasteland headcanon stuff. It’s too fluffy and not remotely violent which doesn’t really ring true. I’m very aware that my Furiosa is hardly ever violent, or my Max particularly mad. But that’s the great thing about fanfiction - the infinite versions of characters and scenarios. Surprisingly the Blues Brothers AU is quite tricky. I can’t quite make Jake Blues and Furiosa the same person. But it’s an excuse to listen to great tunes. And Jessie will make a comeback in that one though (she’s not dead, I should make that clear). 

On the old kudos-to-hits ratio, the Firefly AU is taking off surprisingly well, but it’s quite smut-focused so that might well account for it ;) early days yet. Bladerunner AU is doing well for a multi-chapter. Up Around The Bend (an oldie, the escape from the Citadel) is hanging in there. 

Most successful? I’m happy enough with all of them, except maybe I Kissed A Girl. Please don’t read that. Favourite overall - It’s a toss-up between Ordinary People (a chance to explore my headcanon in a modern small town setting) and the Bladerunner AU (it makes me weep). 

Q: How do you like your wasteland? Gritty? Hopeful? Campy? Soft? Why?

A: Hopeful and silly and everyone has access to a record player somehow. This is why I stick to writing AUs these days. But I’ll happily read all of the above!!! And entirely intend to!

Q: Walk us through your creative process from idea to finished product. What's your prefered environment for creating? How do you get through rough patches?

A: Watch a film, browse tumblr, listen to music, get an idea. Have a good think about it, think about it some more, find a starting point, write it down, go from there. Maybe stick a draft on tumblr if I’m not sure if it’s going to fly. Write it anyway. 

For OCs, figure out what someone looks like. That’s weirdly essential for me. Zal (Furiosa’s Dad) is Ed Harris, Young Val (Furiosa and Max’s grownup daughter) is Alicia Vikander and Toots (rescued-kid-turned-Wasteland-son-in-law) is Didier Drogba (bit of a blast from the past but hey). I was getting nowhere with Blues Mothers Jessie until I recast her as Sofia Boutella (because if Max is getting a generational update, she needs one too). And Firefly AU’s Mister Jobassa is Jakob Oftebro. All very pretty people, but what are you gonna do? But they’re only these people in MY head - they can be whoever the reader wants them to be. Oh, and Pin from Ordinary People was 100% an actual real tour guide I met on holiday once. 

Preferred environment? Usually while half asleep in bed, or walking, or In the gym, or watching tv - world building seems to be something that happens away from the keyboard. Writing itself is exclusively on my phone so can and does happen anywhere at all. Rough patches are usually caused by guilt that I’m not spending enough time on the day job :P

Q: What (if any) music do you listen to for help getting those creative juices flowing?

A: I listen to music all the time anyway, mainly upbeat pre-90s tunes. Disco, funk, ska, motown, anything like that. And it always find its way into the writing. Sometimes artificially (where I’m on a song-lyrics-as-title theme - it took ages for some of the Wasteland fics) but most times it can help shape the story in a BIG way. I can’t listen to certain songs now without reliving a chapter or a whole fic - Dionne Warwick’s Do You Know The Way To San José is Bladerunner!Furiosa’s Green Place song, and Ash’s Angel Interceptor is StarTrek!Max’s flying music - it’s noisy enough but also speaks to me about a longing to not be alone in the universe. Concrete and Clay is smalltown!Max’s bittersweet lament for Jessie and Twistin’ The Night Away is the final party scene in Cheedo’s update of The Rivals. Some fics wouldn’t have been written at all if it wasn’t for a particular song. The Black Keys’ Heavy Soul was my original Wasteland Furiosa/Max ship theme back in 2015, before I’d even heard of ao3 - that’s the closest I’ve come to a song fic. Caleb was only Caleb because of a line in Symarip’s Skinhead Moonstomp, and I was so desperate to write a fic with Leo Sayer’s You Make Me Feel Like Dancing In it that it was the final excuse for a whole modern mirrorverse to my Wasteland headcanon series. Bet you’re sorry you asked now. But I’ll have to go and put together a Kirkyverse OST list.

Q: What is your biggest challenge as a creator?

A: To put the damn thing down and walk away. To not assume it’s awful if I don’t get a kudos in the first thirty hits. Thumb cramp from phone-typing.

Q: How have you grown as a creator through your participation in the Mad Max Fandom? How has your work changed? Have you learned anything about yourself?

A: I didn’t write at all before the Mad Max fandom. Apart from a ghost story when I was about seven (it did win a prize tbh) and a truly god awful Stephen King rip-off when I was fourteen (which makes me nauseous from embarrassment when I think of it). So a fair bit, it’d probably be fair to say. It would be impossible not to, you know, from zero :) My work has changed from spinoffs of inspirational fics (thanks Squid!) to ‘well, I suppose I’ve got a head canon, let’s see if I can make this work’ to ‘goddammit I’ll finish this if it kills me’. Then I missed my exit on the Roundabout of Fic Endings and had to go round again in a modern AU mirror verse. Now it’s all movie mashups, which is lots of fun and probably never-ending. During which time I have learned that crossovers are my favourite to write. And that writing fanfic is probably not a temporary fad :)

Q: Which character do you relate to the most, and how does that affect your approach to that character? Is someone else your favourite to portray? How has your understanding of these characters grown through portraying them?

A: I don’t really have a favourite tbh. They’re all their own people and do their own thing. Writing them is very dependent on their environment, and it’s often surprising how they behave and where they end up. It feels a bit like they’re on Whose Line Is It Anyway?

Q: Do you ever self-insert, even accidentally?

A: Hah yes. The first one was Zephyr the annoying visitor in Witches and Ogres. Young Val’s social awkwardness in As was very much on loan from me. 

Q: Do you have any favourite relationships to portray? What interests you about them?Furiosa and Max are pretty much always there - sometimes it’s probably platonic, and sometimes there’s a third person involved (nothing posted yet but but but). It depends on the fic.

Q: Do you prefer to create in one defined chronology or do your works stand alone? Why or why not?

A: One big long chronology for the headcanon series (childhood to old age), then a whole bunch of little universes for everything else.

Q: To break or not to break canon? Why?

A: Not to break, as much as I can. But it depends.

Q: Share some headcanons.

A: Furiosa was never actually a wife - she was captured but dodged the whole Vault experience. Max is the original Max, of Jessie and Sprog fame. Toecutter was Joe’s younger self - he scooted around on motorbikes and raised hell before deciding to settle down and take the Citadel. AU Toast and Dag are twins (from a shady mob family). Furiosa’s Dad is a friendly Wasteland bandit. 

Q: If you work with OCs walk us through your process for creating them. Who are some of your favourites?

A: They’re supplementary characters who make the plots fit together, and sources of conflict or humour (usually both). I think I like Ordinary People’s Alexa and Mallory best. Although the Irish War Boy crew in Beyond the Pale were fun to write. Ace’s trio of love interests (Brick, Big Dave and Caleb/Pin) are a consistent theme. Sometimes I steal characters from other sources (stand up Christopher Brookmyre) when it’s convenient.

Q: What sparks your many wonderful AUs?

A: Movies, tv, gifs, tumblr prompts and general chitchat (thankyou btw!!!)

Q: A lot of your fics are light-hearted and hopeful, which is great to see for the apocalyptic Mad Max world. Your thoughts on that? What is it about the characters that inspires you to reframe them?

A: I just really like comedy and am committed to winkling it into every fictional scenario whether it’s appropriate or not. Glad people don’t hate it!

Q: Who are some works by other creators inside and outside of the fandom that have influenced your work?

A: Well, it was Squid’s ( @sacrificethemtothesquid )Length and Breadth of Fury Road that got me out of the starting blocks! Christopher Brookmyre’s The Sacred Art of Stealing was a big influence on my headcanon series, as was a particular Coronation Street storyline from some years back :) 

Q: Tell us about a current WIP or planned project.

A: Blues Brothers AU series (Sweet Home Chicago) -Wasteland Star Trek First Contact AU (Angel Interceptor) -Firefly AU (Our Mister Jobassa) -His Dark Materials AU (unnamed as yet, just brewing in my head, hope it just stays there for the meantime) -Will combine all the headcanon works into one long fic sometime. That’s everything from Witches and Ogres through to Ordinary People. Probably be called ‘All the Things that I’ve Done’ (basically the two lives of Furiosa: Wasteland and mirrorverse).

Thank you @kirkypet

[dragonwitchgaming]

Across Space and Time- Chapter 3

remember if you enjoy, like and comment. Please do not copyright as I own this series. I do NOT however own Attack on Titan itself. Enjoy!

 2780 words

GENRE: angst, slight humor

PAIRING: none

WARNING: mentions of possible death

Masterlist

         “I understand… however,” I paused gaging how my next comment might be taken. “If I’m to be a soldier, and I die on the field, what are you going to do about it?  

     The room went silent. The only sound was the chirping of a bird outside. Depending on his answer this would make or break the deal. This moment was going to change my life forever. Would I be a soldier in a fight I knew nothing about, or would I try to find my way myself.

   “Are you asking for compensation? Extra pay? Cause’ that’s not happening brat.” Levi growled.

   “I wasn’t speaking to you. And for your information no, I don’t want extra pay. What the hell would I do with it anyway?” I sighed. “No, what I want is to know what exactly you, Erwin Smith; Commander of the Survey Corps, intend to do if I die before I am able to find my way back home?”

   “I…” he paused seeming to think extremely hard on his next words. “I can’t do much. Going back for your body may very well be impossible. Although I will continue to look for your home; or a way to get back to it, and give my condolences to your mother personally.” Erwin said officially.

   Nodding and offering a small smile I held out my hand to solidify the deal. I was willing to except that answer. I didn’t want my mother to worry whether or not I was okay. She deserved an answer, dead or not.

   “Very well. Erwin Smith you have a deal. I’ll become a soldier for the Survey Corps. In return you will help me find my home, even if it’s in a whole other world.” I met his ocean blue eyes and wondered what horrors they had seen to make them look at me so sadly.

   Taking my tiny hand in his, he shook my hand firmly. “Although I’ll have to warn you, I don’t plan on sleeping in a cell the whole time I’m here.” I half joked. He chuckled softly but otherwise said nothing else. I let go of his hand after that. Such a shame, he has comfortable hands, having his hand on mine reminded me of when my father held my hand.

   “I do however have one remaining question.” I said firmly. I moved to sit back in the chair, crossing my legs.

   “That is?” Levi spoke coldly. He really did hate me didn’t he? His eyes cold, holding the same luster as polished steel.

   “I probably should have asked this first seeing as it’s important but it’s whatever now… what exactly are you fighting against?” my tone was neutral despite the anxiety making a home in my chest, and crawling up my throat.

   “Beasts known as titans. They are human eating monsters that resemble humans but lack morals, a conscience, and any decency as they run around nude. The normal ones are anywhere from 9 to 49 feet sometimes even larger. Abnormal titans are still a mystery to us. The largest one we’ve ever seen topped out at 196 feet. We erected walls to keep them out and the Survey Corps job is to kill the damn things. The Garrison guards the walls and the Military Police patrols the inner most wall’s cities. You’ll learn more in training.” Erwin explained. By the end I swear my jaw hit the floor.

   “Wait so your telling me not only are there these things called titans, but that there are more than one of these walls?” I was blown away. There was no way I was in my own world! Titans? Giant walls? No way in hell!

   “Yes, there are three. Wall Rose is the one you’re behind now; the second wall. The first wall, Wall Maria, was breached a few years ago and is now titan territory. The inner mort wall is wall Sina. That is where the king lives.” Erwin explained.

   “Ya I don’t think I’m even remotely in the same world.” I shook my head in disbelief. If I’m not on my own planet then where the hell was I?

   “What do you mean? Have you never heard of titan’s before?” Levi’s voice seemed to have an undecipherable undertone. He shifted his weight to his right leg and wore a look of slight confusion.

   “They never existed. Not only that; but the only monarchy I’ve heard was England’s queen Elizabeth. And three huge walls?! ” I was in a state of shock. I was in another world and I was reeling with questions. Why am I here? How did I get here? How was I going to get home? Did my mom know I was missing?

   Getting over the shock Erwin seemed to notice my slightly panicked state. “Don’t worry Aurora, we’ll find a way to get you home. You got her somehow, there has to be a way back right? I promised you my help, I’m not going back on my word now.” His words were meant to be comforting but were also very true.      

……

   I spent the next couple hours going over all kinds of things with Erwin and Levi. Going over the finer details of our deal. I had agreed to Erwin appointing Levi as my guard dog, or as he put it, my supervisor. I only agreed because it was something neither male would back down on. Saying that it was for the safety of both parties involved.

   They introduced me to the Section Commander who I swear wanted to dissect me the second she found out I was from another world. Her name was Hanji Zoe, she stood 5 foot 5 inches, with red brown hair and brown eyes. She wore the uniform of the Survey Corps with a pair of rectangle shaped goggles. Holding an air of childlike enthusiasm as she pranced around me, hands folded behind her back, like I was the prize of the sentry. Levi only seemed to get more irritated as she rambled on and on, clenching his teeth together in attempt to not tell her to shut up. I could only laugh to myself and think ‘you and me both buddie’.

   “I’ll be taking you to the Training Corps headquarters you will be training under Keith Shadis. He’s a grumpy old man now, but he used to be the Commander of the Survey Corps. Commander Erwin took the job after him.” She went on and on as we walked the halls. Her voice was exceedingly irritating as she had a loud, high pitched voice. When we got to the stables I don’t think she even noticed.

   “Section Commander were at the stables.” I snapped loudly as my anger reached its peak. The woman had not stopped talking the entire fifteen minutes it took to get here. Cutting me off every time I spoke up. If Levi had to deal with this constantly I didn’t blame him for being a grumpy old man all the time.

   “Oh! We are!” she seemed unaffected by my sharp tone and skipped off excitedly to retrieve her own horse.

   “I won't survive another day if I have to deal with her regularly.” I muttered angrily. Levi seemingly amused by my anger only grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the stable.

   “You will be riding with me. And just so we’re clear… one wrong move and I will kill you on sight. I don’t care if you’re from another world or not.” The threat in his voice was meaning.

   “Not a problem.” I said flippantly. I was growing used to his cold tone. I had no doubt he would follow through with his threat but I had no intention of trying anything so I wasn’t concerned.

   I glanced at the tack lined up next to the stall gates. The looked to be an English style saddle. “Their different than the ones I’m used to.” I muttered to myself, brushing my hand along the seat of the hard leather.

   “What’s that supposed to mean.” He asked somewhat coldly.  

   “Nothing, I’ve just never used this type of saddle before. I’m used to western style saddles. Using an English saddle is relatively uncommon where I’m from, or at least not as common as it is in other parts of the world.” I said thoughtfully. He nodded hesitantly.

   “So you’re from the west?” he asked. I looked him in the eyes. I nodded and glanced over at the black as night horse, making a quick check of the gender before confirming it was a girl.

   “Is she yours?” I asked as Levi entered the stall and started taking her up.

   “Yes.” he said simply and stroked the horse’s snout gently. The sight was so heartwarming I almost cooed.

   Once the horse was tacked up Levi lead the horse out of its stall and took it outside. “This will be interesting.” I muttered, and I got up on the horse with a little help from the Corporal, who swung himself up after me. The saddle was not quite what I was used to but getting used to it wouldn’t be that hard.

   “So is this New York you’re from a country side?” he asked me gripping the bridles rains. I wrapped my arms around his waist in an effort to not fall off, his muscles tensing at the contact.  

   “No, it’s actually a densely populated city. I learned to ride horses because my grandmother owns a couple.” I answered. The horse beneath us was almost perfectly still. “I only wish my horse was this well behaved.” I sighed. It was then that Hanji came out of the stable on a chestnut horse.

   “Ready?” she asked me. I nodded silently. Levi kicked the horse into a full gallop, Hanji shortly behind us, the Survey Corp headquarters vanishing from sight as we rushed deeper into the dense trees.

……

   Despite how much he might have hated me Levi did enjoy the tea I made for him while he worked on paperwork. I spent most of my time training in his makeshift office with him and helped him with paperwork with the occasional Hanji popping in to ask me a ton of questions about my world.

   Quickly, I took notice of Levi unhealthy obsession with cleaning due to his constant complaining about dirty floors and windows. I had to chuckle to myself when soldiers would come into his office after Levi had a bad day and would be ordered to clean. I had grown surprisingly close to the man in the countless hours spent with him, I think it had something to do with the tea honestly. He acted almost like a father and that was somewhat comforting, although it could be slightly annoying at times.  

   “You really should go easier on them ya’ know.” I joked during breakfast. It was my forth morning at the training for headquarters and things were going relatively well. Levi drinking a milk tea I had brewed for him only a few minutes ago. He only ignored my statement a glared around the room at the other cadets who happily ate and talked with friends.

   “Glaring like that will give you premature wrinkles.” I laughed. He rolled his eyes and took a big gulp of the still hot tea, burning his tongue I'm sure.

   “Breakfast is over. Go.” He barked at me. I chuckled and got out of my seat heading outside to roll call.

   Once the other cadets had shown up we stood in alphabetical order. Not far from me was the current girl being yelled at by the instructor Mr. Shadis. Her name was Annie Leonhart and just before her was a small blond girl named Krista Lenz. When he got to me it took everything I had to not shrink back from his rancid breath. He was less than a foot from my face and was degrading me every way possible. 

   I had expected Levi to be here watching this but actually seeing him pissed me off. Here I was getting screamed at and he just stood their smirking at my discomfort. 

   “Are you listening cadet Lyte!?” his shouting was giving me a migraine. 

   “It’s impossible not to listen to you Sir. Your voice is obnoxiously loud.” I growled at the man. His already wrinkled forehead creased even more as his brows furrowed in rage. 

   “What did you say cadet?! You got balls?!” His voice made my head throb. 

   “No sir I’m a girl, I don’t have balls. Maybe you should go back to school and learn basic human anatomy.” I hissed. The cadets within hearing shot of my comment started whispering and staring at me in shock. Paybacks a bitch asshole. Levi seemed to be further amused by the instructor’s seemingly endless rage. The other cadets quietly chuckling to themselves effectively humiliating the man further.

   “Fifty laps, NOW!” I shrugged and started running. Worth it. 

……..

  Training was a bitch today, the laps weren’t that bad but hand to hand combat kicked my ass. Levi had met me on my way back from the classes I had to take. They taught almost nothing but two things, how the ODM gear worked; or as it was also referred to as 3D maneuvering gear, and those god forsaken things called titans.

   “How did your first official day go?” Levi chuckled.

   “I want to kill that Shadis guy.” I muttered darkly. “His breath was foul has he ever heard of a tooth brush?! Not only that but he’s rude as all get out! And he worked me like a dog, he was the one being an asshole, he had it coming!” I shouted my frustrations to the older man. Levi smirked in amusement but otherwise remained silent as we entered the cafeteria.

   The cafeteria was rowdy as ever with the new cadets further frustrating me. The food was stale and dry as peer usual and as an end result making me drink even more.

   “Try not to go through all our water previsions before the end of week.” Levi said sarcastically.

   “You know I’m having a hard time trying to figure out if you’re just messing with me or if you’re actually serious.” I grumbled stuffing another piece of hard bread into my mouth.

   “It’s both really.” He shrugged with a cold expression. I shook my head and continued to eat.

   “So you always talk to shitty glasses about your world. Tell me a few things.” Levi asked quietly.

   “Well for one my world is far more technologically advanced. The militaries of my world have access to weapons that can level entire cities in a single blow called nukes, long range explosives called missiles. The three branches, if you remember from when we first met, are the Air Force, the Marines, and the Navy. Marines are what’s unpleasantly known as the ground fodder, the Navy is the guys on or in the ocean, and finally the Air Force has… how do I explain this… flying machines that can deliver destructive blows; their primary job is dropping nukes or firing missiles.

   Our world has gone through two devastating wars involving the whole world. The biggest problem we’ve ever had to deal with was the consequences of our own actions. We don’t have titans, never have.” I explained. The more I went on the more intrigued he seemed to become.

   “Big cities normally have to start building up to save room rather than keep building out and wasting farm land. For example New York is a huge city and had to build up. This gave rise to the buildings known as sky scrapers. These buildings can easily be hundreds of floors depending on the city.” I continued. However the bigger the city… the higher the crime rate…” Flashbacks of my father’s murder flashed behind my eyes.

   “I see.” He noticed my change of mood and did not press the subject.

   During my talk I hadn’t noticed the room clearing out, people heading to bed because of how late it was.

   “You should head to your dorm room and get some sleep.” Levi said nodding his head towards the door.

   “I think I will.” I agreed and got up out of my seat and handing my plate to the poor souls in charge of dishes tonight.

   “Oh and Lyte!” I turned to the raven. “Don’t stay up to late!” I stood stunned at the corporal’s words. Had he known about me going to the roof to think late at night?  

   “What are you, my dad?” I joked. As I turned away I could’ve sworn I seen a small smile grace his lips before I left the room.

[wistfulcynic]

The Final Chapter, Raised With the Fume of Sighs

Summary: Killian Jones is madly in love with the woman across the hall, but Emma Swan wants nothing to do with him and his playboy ways. Until one stormy night when she dares to let him in and nothing is ever the same again.

Graphic Art by @rouhn

Available On: AO3

Rated: M for sexytimes

Catch Up: Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 Ch6 Ch7 Ch8 Ch9 Ch10

A/N: So here it is, the final instalment of my first multi-chapter fic! I have always wanted to try my hand at writing the sort of thing I personally like to read, and it's been great fun not only to do that but also to discover that what I like to read is what so many of you like to read as well. Thank you again to everyone who has read, commented, kudos-ed, liked, and reblogged, I am honoured and inspired by it all, and already looking forward to getting stuck in to the next story.

@wellhellotragic @teamhook @rouhn @kmomof4 @resident-of-storybrooke

Chapter 11:

~3 1/2 years ago…

Killian stumbled into his new apartment and flopped on the sofa with a groan, flinging his arm across his face. He felt hideous, hung over in body and soul. The past few weeks had been nightmarish, a blur of bars and women and bad decisions that were meant to distract him but never truly did. No amount of rum or sex could fix the ruin of his life but he had no other tools at his disposal, no real idea of how to dispel his pain and guilt at Liam’s death and his shame at the end of his naval career. 

There was one small bright spot, he reminded himself. Despite the ignominious way he’d departed from Oxford, Killian found that after the better part of a decade away he was not opposed to easing back into academia. At least it would give him something to do besides drink and fuck. He’d been lucky to find the opening for an adjunct professor at Columbia, lucky that they were willing to sponsor a visa for him, give him the chance to start fresh somewhere new, somewhere he could earn his place. It was a real opportunity, one he desperately wanted not to fuck up. Which meant he had to pull himself together, Killian thought, his first class was tomorrow and he needed to be prepared for it, needed to plan, needed to be focused. He groaned again, cradling his aching head. He needed a cup of tea. 

Dragging himself off the sofa, he went to the kitchen and put the kettle on, then pulled open the refrigerator door. 

“Fuck.” He’d forgotten to buy milk. “Fuck, fuck, bloody buggering damnation, now what?” He really didn’t want to walk all the way to the shop in his condition, but tea without milk was unthinkable. Perhaps there was a kindly neighbour in the building who might spare a drop, he thought. Unlikely, but he supposed it was worth a try. 

Taking a moment to splash cold water on his face and run damp fingers through his hair, and put on some clothes that didn’t smell like alcohol and sadness, he went across the hall and knocked on the door directly opposite his own. 

It opened, and Killian’s world tilted sharply on its axis, shifting everything around him, altering the course of his life forever. The woman standing before him was a vision, sunlight shining through her pale gold hair, green eyes wide in the most beautiful face he’d ever seen. She looked like an angel, like a fairy tale princess, like— like someone who could never be within the reach of the likes of him. He stood, stunned, struggling for breath and for sanity, aware he was staring but unable to tear his eyes away. 

Say something, gobshite

Desperately, he groped for his charm, the one thing he could always rely on to get him through difficult situations. It came to his aid, as it always did, and he produced a dazzling smile. 

“Hello,” he said, “I’m Killian Jones, I just moved in across the hall. I was wondering if I might borrow a drop of milk.” 

For the briefest moment their eyes met and something flashed between them, a recognition, like calling to like, a profound sense of home. Then it was gone, so abruptly he thought he’d imagined it, and her expression slammed shut followed quickly by her door. 

“No,” she said, punctuating the flat declaration with the click of her lock. 

He stood outside her door for what could have been seconds or hours for all the notice he took of the passage of time. After… however long it was, he turned away and headed for the elevator. Suddenly, he felt up to walking to the shop. The air and the exercise might clear his head. 

He felt different, he realised, somehow… brighter. The pain and the guilt and the shame were still there, the sense of unworthiness, the general despair. And yet he couldn’t help feeling that in a world where a woman like that could exist and could live across the hall from him there might also be a place for hope. Hope that maybe he could pull through, that he could make things better, be better. Hope that he could discover what had made her slam the door in his face, in his face, for fuck’s sake —he paused for a moment to examine the reflection of it in a shop window; somewhat worse for wear perhaps, but still devilishly handsome. What had she seen in it that no one else did? She was intriguing, and she was bloody gorgeous, and against all probability it seemed she had relit a spark of vitality in him that he thought had died with Liam. For the first time since his brother’s death, Killian found himself feeling that there might be a chance for him yet. 

*.    *.    *.

Present day…

Killian burst into the apartment with such exuberance that the door nearly leapt off its hinges. “Swan!” he called, striding into the living room where Emma was on the sofa reading a textbook, and pulling his laptop out of his bag, “You’ve got to see this!” 

He opened the computer and presented it to her with a flourish. On the desktop was the home page of the New York Times. 

Green Enterprises Executive Charged With Misappropriation, declared the headline. Neal Cassidy, son-in-law to CEO Peter Green, has been charged with misappropriating company funds, he is being remanded in custody as prosecutors convene a grand jury. 

Emma’s jaw dropped, then she snorted. “I knew he was involved in something shady,” she said, “He couldn’t not be, it’s just who he is.” 

“Well it looks like seeing you again put the fear of the gods into him, love,” said Killian, not even trying to keep the glee out of his voice. “It seems that he had been doing a decent job of hiding his activities, but the day after the fundraiser his pattern changed and he got sloppy. He was trying to cover his tracks, but the bloody idiot only managed to draw attention to himself. He might as well have stood under a big sign that read ‘Criminal Activity Here.’” He grinned at her in satisfaction. “There’s no way Peter Green will let him get away with thievery, that man values loyalty above all else. Tamara has already initiated divorce proceedings. He’ll be persona non grata in every financial centre in the world, even if he avoids jail, which is unlikely given the power and influence of the people he crossed.” He set the laptop aside and pulled Emma into his arms. “I’d still like to punch his arsehole face, but I have to say, as comeuppances go, this one is pretty bloody satisfactory.” 

She remained silent, and he pulled back to look at her. “What are you thinking, love?”

She frowned slightly.“I’m thinking that I should be glad he’s finally got what’s coming to him,” she replied. “But I kinda don’t care. I meant it when I said I’m free from him. If he goes to jail that’ll be justice done, but it’s nothing to me beyond that.”

“You are far too good, my darling,” he said, raising an eyebrow, his grin tinged with malice.  “I intend to revel in his downfall.” 

She laughed and kissed his cheek, then slipped from his arms, sliding to the end of the sofa. He could tell that she had something to say, and needed space to prepare her words. 

“Killian,” she seemed suddenly nervous. “Do you know what today is?”

He did. “Er… Wednesday?” he said teasingly, but she was focused inward and failed to pick up on his tone. 

“Yes, but it’s something else too, kind of an anniversary. I mean, not really but just something you might remember, and—”

He decided to stop teasing, and took her hands in his. “One year ago today was the first night we spent together. Of course I remember, love, how could I not? I’ll never forget kissing you for the first time after years of dreaming about it, it was like all my Christmases had come at once. And as for what came after… well, it will forever remain one of the most extraordinary experiences of my life.” 

She flushed with pleasure at his words and at her own memories, but her expression remained troubled. “I’m so sorry for running away from you the next morning—”

“Darling, you have nothing to apologise for—”

“No, please, let me say this. I never told you why I ran.” 

He opened his mouth, but she shushed him and carried on. 

“I know you think it was because my past with Neal made me scared of getting close to people so I just automatically pushed everyone away, and that’s partly true. But if it had only been that I wouldn’t have run, just kicked you out before you’d even gone to sleep, or at least I would have done that if it had been anyone but you. I’d never fallen asleep with a man before except Neal, and when I woke up that morning, for a minute I didn’t remember what had happened, I only knew that I felt warm and content and— and loved, for the first time in my life. I felt like I belonged with you and I wanted to stay there with you forever, and I’d never felt any of those things before, not ever, not even with Neal. What I felt was stronger than anything I’d felt in my life and I barely even knew you, and that’s what scared me. I ran not because you were the same as the other men I’d been with, it was because you were so different. I just… wanted you to know that.” 

Killian was stunned. Although he knew now that Emma had never hated him as he’d once believed she did, he’d had no idea that she’d felt such a strong connection to him so early on, that the irresistible pull he’d always felt towards her had never been one-sided. He suddenly remembered their first meeting, the brief eye contact, the overwhelming sense of having found the missing piece of himself, quickly dispelled in the face of her blunt rejection. 

“Love,” he said slowly, “Do you remember when we first met, there was, well for me anyway there was a moment…” 

She nodded, looking slightly ashamed. “I remember,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You felt like home. You always have. That’s what scared me most of all.” 

Killian reached into his jeans pocket and withdrew a small, blue velvet box, caressing it gently with his thumb. It was old, the nap of the velvet worn thin on the edges. Inside it lay his most prized possession. 

“Emma,” he began, holding the box up where she could see it, not missing her slight intake of breath. “This was my mother’s. It’s the only thing I have left of her, the one thing Liam was able to save. My father sold all her other valuables, but this Liam took and hid from him, knowing what a treasure it was. My mother was given it by her grandmother who had also inherited it from her grandmother, going back I don’t even know how far. When Liam died and it came into my possession, I could never have imagined letting go of it, of the one thing that ties me to the mother I can barely remember. I do remember it on her finger, though, and I— I would like nothing more than to see it on yours.” He slid off the sofa and knelt before her, and opened the box. Emma gasped. “I know it’s not a traditional ring but we’re not exactly traditional people, and we’ve certainly not had a traditional courtship. This ring is a symbol of love and family to me, and I love you more than I am able to express, and I want you to be my family. You saved me from the darkness I was mired in when we met, pulled me into the light and into a life so marvellous I could never have envisioned it. I want to be with you every day until I draw my last breath and depart this Earth forever. And so, Emma Swan, will you marry me?”

He looked up at her face. Tears glistened in her eyes, dropping onto her cheeks as she tried to blink them away. She began to nod, swallowing hard, trying to force words through the constriction in her throat. “Yes!” she croaked, “Yes, Killian, yes, yes, yes!” Taking his face between her hands, she slid off the couch to kneel as he was kneeling, and began to kiss him, holding him tightly to her. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her back until they were both breathless and laughing and he pulled away to take her hand and put the ring on her finger. 

“It’s so beautiful,” she breathed. 

“Like its new owner,” he replied with a brilliant smile, “It’s a wild pearl, small but flawless, much like you. Our family legend says that it came from somewhere in the South Sea Islands, what is now called Polynesia, brought back to England by an ancestor who had been a ship’s captain, some said a pirate.”

“Hah,” she said, “I always knew you had some pirate in you.”  

He chuckled. “The stones at the side are Bohemian garnets, added when the pearl was laid in this setting, probably sometime in the late nineteenth century. The ring itself is Welsh gold.”

“Killian, I— I’ll treasure it. I love you so much. I—” Overwhelmed, she kissed him again, wrapping her arms around his neck and toppling him backwards onto the carpet. When she broke the kiss he looked at her quizzically. 

“I love this carpet,” she said, stroking it. “I have since I first saw it, when I went to your place to stop you from leaving, to tell you I loved you. Every time I look at it I think about that day and how I almost lost you, and how I never want to be apart from you again. I want you to make love to me on it now.” 

He growled approvingly deep in his throat and kissed her deeply as he rolled her over onto her back, slipping his leg between hers and running his hand up her side, under her shirt, snapping open her bra and cupping her breast in his hand, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger until she moaned into his mouth. As he teased her breast she managed to unbutton his shirt and push it insistently off his shoulders. “Get this off,” she demanded, breaking the kiss and giving his shoulders a shove. Reluctantly he released her breast to sit up and pull off the shirt as she turned her attention to his jeans, undoing them in record time and reaching inside to grasp his cock. Now it was his turn to moan, looking down to see her hand adorned with his mother’s ring wrapped around him, stroking his heated flesh. He wondered if it was wrong that he found that insanely erotic. Nudging her off him briefly so he could divest her of her shirt and bra, he leaned down and latched his mouth onto her nipple, nipping it and bathing it with his tongue as she took him in hand again and he slid his own hand between her legs, blessing the stretchy leggings she wore. He stroked her clit with his thumb and slipped two fingers inside her, and her hand on his cock faltered under the onslaught of sensation from his touch. She revelled in it for a moment, riding his hand with small thrusts of her hips, then she pushed him away. “I want to come on your cock,” she panted, and yanked his jeans down over his hips then shimmied out of her leggings as he kicked the jeans away. She pulled him down to her, spreading her thighs wide as he positioned himself between them. 

“Don’t be gentle,” she commanded, “If I don’t have rug burns on my ass when we’re done, I’ll want to know why.” 

“It’ll be because this rug is made of silk,” he purred in her ear. Her laugh ended on a moan as he thrust inside her, heeding her proscription on gentleness, pounding himself into her as he lifted one of her legs under the knee and draped it over his shoulder, angling his hips to hit her in just the right spot. 

“Oh, that’s perfect,” she gasped, lying back and letting him fuck her for several long minutes, her hands flexing in the nap of the carpet before she ran them up her own body and took her breasts in a firm grip, pinching and rolling her nipples as he loved to do. He groaned at the sight of her touching herself, and her eyes flew to his. The combination of intense love and almost feral lust in his expression sent her flying over the edge and she came hard. He fucked her through it, letting her little gasping moans and the feel of her quivering around him drive his pleasure higher. Just as he was about to come she shoved him off her and onto his back. He snarled, and she laughed. “Patience,” she purred, straddling and sinking down onto him in one smooth move. She took his hands in hers, lacing their fingers together above his head, leaning down to give his mouth access to her breasts as she began to ride him. He took her nipple into his mouth again, more roughly this time, sucking it hard between his teeth and dragging his tongue across the compressed tip. Soon she was breathing in short, desperate gasps and she came again within minutes, letting go of his hands and collapsing against his chest. He grabbed her hips and lifted them, slamming them down to meet his as he thrust up into her, again and again, desperate beyond control, until he exploded into an orgasm so strong it was almost painful. 

They lay silent and entwined until their breathing steadied and the sweat dried from their bodies. “Gods, that was magnificent,” said Emma, finally, rolling off him and snuggling against his side, her head on his chest. “We’re sweating all over your silk rug,” she remarked. 

“I don’t care,” he murmured, still coming down from his high, too blissful to give much of a damn about such details. 

She traced random patterns in his chest hair with her fingertips. “Do you think we’ll still have sex like this once we’re married?” she asked, and he felt a stupid grin split his face at her casual use of the m-word. “You don’t think we’ll ever end up just doing lights-out missionary three times a year, do you?”

Killian had a sudden vision of himself and Emma, wrinkled and grey, making each other scream in ecstasy on the floor of a living room he didn’t recognise, in a house they had yet to buy. “No,” he said decidedly. “I do not believe that fate will ever befall us.” 

He could feel her hair brush across his chin as she nodded and her cheek flex against his chest as she smiled. “Good,” she said. 

 *.    *.    *.

~3 1/2 years later…

The wind whipped around Killian, ruffling through his hair and tossing up the collar of his shirt as he manoeuvred his boat out of the mouth of the Hudson and pointed her towards the open sea. It had taken far longer than he’d anticipated to get her ready for this voyage. A year or so’s hard work, he’d once figured, and she’d be set to go. That had been nearly four years ago, since which time life had consistently got in the way of his plans for repair and restoration of his beloved vessel. Yet Killian had no regrets, for the life that had thrown a wrench in his plans was far too good for him to wish it to be in any way different. 

The bright sound of laughter reached his ears and he turned to see Emma standing at the boat’s railing, the tiny blonde source of the gleeful noise perched on her hip. His heart swelled at the sight of them, as it always did. His wife and daughter, the two great loves of his life, his cherished Emma and his darling Hope, who was the symbol of her namesake for him in every imaginable way. Even after three years of marriage, even after Hope’s first birthday celebrated just the week before, Killian sometimes struggled to comprehend that the life he was living was truly his. A tenured professor, a husband, a father, what had he done to deserve to call himself any of those things, a dark voice at the back of his mind still sometimes needled him. Impostor syndrome, Emma called it. 

She had completed her MSW with flying colours and had been working full time at the women’s shelter for over two years. Like him, she still sometimes had doubts about her worthiness for such a role, had days when she felt useless and like nothing she did made a difference, but those days were growing increasingly rare. Emma had really come into her own over the past few years, her confidence in herself and her abilities growing by leaps and bounds as she let go of all the insecurities that had held her back in the past. Killian was absurdly proud of her. 

He needed to follow her example, he thought, to forgive himself for the mistakes of his past and accept that he had earned his life, that he was a far better man than he’d been seven years ago, that Emma and Hope loved him and he made them happy. He was working on it. 

He smiled as Emma came over to him, still laughing with Hope. The little girl held out her arms, the blue eyes she’d inherited from him sparkling merrily. “Daddy,” she said. He took her from her mother, balancing her on his hip with one arm while with the other he continued to steer. “Well, darling,” he said, nuzzling his nose into her blonde curls and breathing in her sweet baby smell, “What do you make of the boat? I hope you like her, as she bears your name.” 

Emma humphed. “I still think we should have called her the Jolly Roger.” 

“Swan—”

“In honour of your pirate heritage, Killian!”

“My very likely apocryphal pirate heritage!” 

“Still.” 

He shook his head in largely feigned exasperation and she grinned, stepping in close and wrapping her arms around her husband and daughter, stroking Hope’s hair and resting her chin on Killian’s shoulder. He turned his head to press a kiss on her cheek. 

And so the Swan-Jones family set out together for an adventure at sea, aboard the Lady Hope. 

-------

Sorry not sorry to anyone who thinks engagement rings should be diamond solitaires; I personally dislike diamonds and also think that sentimental softie Killian would want to give Emma something more meaningful.