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#thank you so much for tagging me all you lovely people!!!
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Training Room Tension (Wolverine x f!Reader, smut)
Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!reader
Summary: Training is just another form of foreplay between you and Logan. That's why no one trains with you guys anymore. It's just awkward.
Tags/Warnings: 18+, smut with a hint of sappy love and security at the end, dirty talk, taunting, unprotected sex, biting, spanking, rough sex, Rest In Piece(s) to your undergarments hehe, takes place in the X-Mansion, reader is some type of invulnerable mutant like Logan.
Word count: 2400
Author's Note: First time writing in forever! Praise be to "Deadpool & Wolverine" for bringing back my love and lust for Hugh Jackman. Wolverine in particular is one of my first loves. Shout out to by Bitchachos for reassuring me this obsession was okay. Love you guys! Thanks for reading and thanks to @pagesofivy for the title suggestion! I'm picturing older, thicker Logan from the 70s cuz of that mirror scene iykyk. But also love these XMen gifs. Ah hell I can't pick a favorite. He has aged sooooo well.
Hope people enjoy this and please don't be afraid to let me know! Words of Affirmation is my love language. LOL
I made a wolverine sideblog too because I want to reblog everything Logan and D&W related hehe ----> @feral4wolverine
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The team rarely trains with you and Logan in the same room anymore. For a good reason too. Sure, in short exercises, they can manage you guys. You're both part of the team after all, but the longer training scenarios, they'll make do without. They just know their feral, indestructible teammates will do their part in the real world fights.
Because as much as Logan admires your strength and determination...he also cannot stand it. You're stubborn. You're defiant. You're a tease and he can't take it anymore.
“You’re slowing down, babe, and pulling your punches,” you tease, dodging his swing and sweeping his legs out from under him. He hits the ground with a loud thud. He rolls over, grabbing your ankle before you can get back up. He drags you along the mats as he stands. “Ah, nonono!” you laugh, your arms waving and trying to get a grip on the floor. You get your other foot under you and turn yourself over trying to kick or hook your leg around his neck to take him down.
It doesn’t work this time but at least he lets go of your foot. Back on even ground, you’re swapping blows, punches, and blocks. You curse almost as much as he grunts.
"Run that pretty little mouth one more time," he growls, his arms interlocked with yours as he blocks your attack again.
"Or what, old man?" You push back, breaking his hold, your skin is slick with sweat and it gives you an advantage over Logan…in more ways than one. You’re slippery and fast and his reaction time is slower as his gaze lingers on every inch of exposed, glistening skin.
He pounces and were he not already so close, you would have been able to dodge him. Your feet don't have a chance to gain traction though as you scramble to get away. He swiftly grabs you by the waist, tossing you over his shoulder.
The action is fast enough that it steals your breath away. You're kicking and protesting as he carries you out of the gym. All the tech and weaponry in the Danger Room have borne the brunt of Logan's claws too many times, so the two of you have been banished to the school's gymnasium. Logan takes two stairs at a time as he carries you off in the direction of your shared room. It’s far from the student’s quarters and the walls are soundproof from back when Logan’s nightmares were more frequent. They’re all but gone since you maneuvered yourself into his life.
(It’s technically still his room only, but he was never going to ask you to move in, so you’ve just started sneaking things in and leaving items behind until it was obvious. You know he’s noticed and cleared space for your abandoned items in his dresser, closet, and bathroom. He’s just too stubborn to admit defeat. And you’re happy to spare his ego and let him be the one to finally mention it.)
If anyone in the mansion hears your grumbling and cursing, they tune you out–already accustomed to you and Logan bickering. Your protests die in your throat as you take a sharp intake of air when he smacks your ass, his large hand definitely leaving a stinging mark. If it's not already red, he may spank you one or two more times...especially if you mouth off.
Once in his room, he tosses you onto his bed but you bounce back up and try to shove past him, a half-assed attempt to keep playing cat and mouse, to make him chase you some more. He hooks you around the waist and throws you back on the bed, this time bearing down on top of you. His body is strong, solid, and heavy with adamantium as he pins you down, his chest vibrating with a growl.
"No more talking."
"Oh baby, that's not how I fuck," you moan and hook one of your legs around his waist. One hand grabs his ass, giving you leverage to grind against him.
"Such a filthy mouth," he snarls, his teeth grazing your jaw before he nips at your ear. His facial hair scratches at your skin, raising goosebumps along your flesh. Your nipples tighten and ache, desperate for his mouth.
"You love it."
His chest vibrates with another deep growl just before he claims your mouth, your lips smashing together hard enough that your teeth make contact, and your lips get caught in the crossfire. There's a brief taste of iron but whomever it belongs to heals quickly, the sting relieved as his tongue delves into your mouth.
"Can't...stand it...anymore. Can't take it," he groans as he kisses you. He pulls away just to kiss and bite along your jaw, down the column of your throat.
"Poor thing, powerless to resist me?" you keen, your breath hitching as he bites your neck a little harder, his tongue soothing it a second later. You grind your hips, answering with your own moans, proud of yourself for getting a rise out of him. Your nails dig into his back, definitely tearing at his shirt. He pulls his head back and hisses as the sensation rides the border between pain and pleasure. He reaches for you, his hands shackling your wrists and pinning your arms by your head.
"Be a good girl for once and don't move," he commands you, releasing your hands so that he can take off his shirt and rip off his belt. He yanks your pants down, getting increasingly agitated as he struggles with the fabric. With your shirt, he pulls it up until it bunches around your wrists, effectively shackling you. As for your sports bra and underwear…
"Nonono!"
SNIKT!
"Sonuvabitch!" you curse as he cuts the fabric with one of his claws. He just chuckles. He's slowed down just for a moment to drag a single claw down the middle of your sports bra, along the line of your cleavage. Your breasts spill out as he cuts the straps next. Your breasts are bared to him and he lavishes them with the attention you crave. You no longer keep your hands above your head as you card your fingers through his thick hair, pulling on it as you arch your back and press your breasts further into his hands and mouth. He bites at your supple flesh as his fingers knead your nipples into aching peaks. A mewling whimper escapes your lips as you roll your hips against him some more but his jeans are still on.
"Are you gonna fuck me, or do I need to get myself off?" you challenge him while biting your bottom lip. His answer comes after he slides a hand down your body and rubs your pussy through your soaked underwear.
"Nobody makes you come but me, sweetheart," he says gruffly, his own arousal evident in his voice before he kisses you again, deeply, passionately, possessive. He steals your breath away and when he lets you up for air you gasp, your chest heaving as he's pinned your breasts between you. You love the feeling of his chest hair against your skin.
"Then prove it…Bub," you gasp, surprising yourself and giggling at the use of the nickname. He shakes his head with amusement, only slightly cringing at your joke.
The next thing you know, he's sitting up, unzipping his jeans and ripping your underwear off without the use of his claws. (You don't wear your nicer panties when sparring with Logan is on the schedule.) The sports bra, you'd thought you could save. His dick is straining against his boxer briefs but you hardly get a glimpse of his perfectly thick cock before he's pushing inside you.
Normally, you like it when he fingers you first. When he stretches you out with two or three fingers while he tongues and sucks on your clit. You lament the opportunity for beard burn on your inner thighs but you’ll make up for that some other time. For now you’re just as desperate for him, as he is for you.
"Mmm fuck," he growls as he bottoms out. "So fucking tight. So wet. Love the scent of you on my sheets." He hunches forward, burying his face in the curve of your neck. He bites and sucks a mark into your skin. It'll heal, but at least the two of you will know it was there. You rake your fingers through his hair, pulling on it, your nails scraping his scalp. You wrap your legs around his waist, locking your ankles in the small of his back.
"Yes, Logan, yes baby fuck me. Fuck me hard. Make me come," you urge him on, trying to roll your hips to match his rapid rhythm, but you can't keep up. The sensations are intense and overwhelming, until you've lost the strength in your arms and you just let yourself go. You submit to him in every way, allowing yourself to be used for his pleasure just as you know your pleasure is his. "Fuck, Logan, I'm so close…" you moan.
Your body is languid, liquid heat beneath him, your skin scorching hot no matter where he touches you. He drags his big hands down your body, starting at the base of your throat, over your heartbeat, kneading your breasts before sliding them down your stomach and grasping your hips. Changing pace to long, hard strokes, he rubs your clit with his thumb as he raises your hips off the bed. Your hips start bucking like you're trying to get away from the intensity of his thumb on your clit, but he keeps pulling you back to him, thrusting deeper as you two battle for release. You cry out, coming so hard your legs are shaking. You reach out to him and he extends one of his arms. Your fingers dig into his forearm as you hold on, feeling like you could fly off the bed, but Logan has you. He'll never let you go.
"Ohh, fuck," he groans, his mouth hanging open and his lips almost pulling back to bare his teeth like an animal. His eyes roll back as he nearly loses himself to the feeling of your orgasm, the pulsing sensation of your pussy squeezing him tight. You keep rolling your body, pushing and pulling with your grip on his arm,  drawing out your climax. His fingers dig into your hips. He finally bares his teeth, growling, his face twisting into a feral snarl. "Fuck, baby."
He pulls out suddenly and you cry, mourning the loss of being full. But then he flips you over, fast enough to elicit a startled giggle. His smug chuckle is lost as you end up face down on the bed. You're about to get up to your hands and knees when Logan slams back into you, going deeper from this position. You moan into his pillow, noting his own unique smell of leather, cigars, and pine. His hand holds onto your shoulder for leverage as he starts piston his hips at a rapid pace, fucking into you from behind, pressing you into the mattress.
“Don’t stop. Keep going,” you urge him on, knowing that the moment it’s too much for you, if you say stop, he will. “Oh my god, fu--I'm gonna come again," you whimper. He lets out a rugged laugh and spanks your ass...once, twice, and then rubbing your skin to soothe the red marks before he grabs your ass to help you push back and ride his dick.
"Yesss," he hisses, "Yeah sweetheart, let it go, come again. I've got you," he grunts, the words oddly sweet in contrast to the pounding you're getting.
Your next orgasm is matched by his. You can't see him behind you but you know what it looks like when Logan comes. You love the way his nose scrunches up, his head falls back and then rolls to the side like he's about to crack his neck. Then he shakes head like he's clearing his head from the fog of mind-blowing sex. His body shudders, all of his muscles are tense, flexed, rock hard. If you were on your back, you'd be kissing and nipping at his broad chest as you rake your nails down his abs. For now, you can take in the sight of him by straining to look over your shoulder. His thrusts stutter to a complete stop as he fills you up.
"Yes, baby…yes, feels so good," you pant, praising him. The corner of his mouth turns up in a proud smirk. He takes a few deep breaths and slides his hand up and down your spine. You fully sink into the mattress, boneless and spent, and he leans over you, propping most of his weight on his arms beside you.
Your breathing synchronizes as you lay there together. He peppers your shoulders with open mouth kisses and gently nips at the curve of your neck as you expose it.
"You like that, sweetheart?" he murmurs softly in your ear.
"Mmm, yes," you answer, "always." Your eyes are closed as you focus on the remnants of pleasure coursing through your body. You press your ass against him, earning yourself a few more lazy, taunting thrusts from him. He pulls out, his dick still hard and throbbing with a stamina unmatched by your own. You clench your legs shut, determined to keep his seed inside you, as you both love a messy round two. He rolls onto his side, taking you with him until you're on your back and looking up at him.
"You drive me crazy, baby girl," he grumbles…with obvious affection as he nuzzles you and then softly kisses you.
"You love it," you defend yourself playfully.
"Mmmhmm," he growls his agreement before kissing you again, one hand slowly exploring the planes of your body once more. He loves it when you play hard to get. He loves it when you talk back and antagonize him. He loves having a partner who keeps up with him and then still kicks his ass in training. He loves it when you challenge his lone wolf act. He loves it all, because it makes these moments happen--moments where two seemingly invincible people can come together and feel safe enough to love and be loved.
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It's been 2 years since I posted any fics... I hope ya'll liked this! Let me know!
p.s. made a wolverine specific sideblog: @feral4wolverine
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seresinhangmanjake · 22 hours
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The One I Want: Part 16
Jake Seresin x plus size!reader
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Summary: You're new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.
Warnings: a little smut
Words: 1500
The One I Want Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List
“I can’t tell you much,” Jake had told you, but you knew that. “We’re not a hundred percent in the clear, but it’s looking like four weeks, maybe five.”
“Beats fifteen,” you’d said, hearing a rewarding chuckle in return. 
You were thankful no one could witness the mess you were at that moment, your face-splitting grin heavily contrasting the puffiness of your eyes from tears. But that was just the beginning of weeks of inner turmoil. 
For forty-eight days, your stomach has swirled a storm that’s consistently had you on the edge of nausea, whether from anxiety regarding his safety or butterflies at the thought of Jake returning. You miss him, more than you thought yourself willing to, and regardless of what he told you, nothing guarantees he will walk through the door of your apartment. And if he doesn’t, you know exactly what will happen to you. You’ll crumble into unsalvageable pieces, and no one—not Millie, not Rooster, not anyone who has been kind to you over the last months—will be able to put you back together. 
And then what? Your only choice will be to leave. Start anew. Twelfth new place. Except this time, you’ll be more numb, less human, less operable on a daily basis. It’ll be like waking from a dream to a gray environment. You fear nature will lose its color, and you will lose your light once again.
It’s another week before your phone rings with a name other than Millie’s plastered across the screen. Unknown Number, but the first three digits are recognizable, matching those of the number Jake has been using to call you with. What you hear on the other end of the line, however, is not Jake, but instead, a gruff voice asking you to confirm your identity. 
“Yes,” you answer. “That’s me.”
The man clears his throat. “You are the emergency contact for Lieutenant Jake Seresin. We’d like you to come down to our medical facility as soon as possible,” he says before providing you directions.
You drop your phone, and then you’re running. Running to his truck, running from his truck to base, running through halls until you find someone willing to lead you to him. You’re so terrified, your arms jittery, legs barely functioning from the panic of Jake’s pending fate, so overwhelmed by nerves that when you finally do see him, it pisses you off. 
That man with the voice that imbued you with dread is on your shit list for life. Maybe next time, he could lead an emergency contact call with He’s fine or Don’t worry, because his implication was severe enough that you feared lost limbs or damaged brain functioning. But there Jake is, not in a coma or with some life-threatening injury, but sitting on the edge of a bed in a room with his back to you as a nurse seals a strip of medical tape across a small patch of shaved hair on the side of his head.  
When she’s done with her work, she smiles at Jake and nods at something he says before walking out of the room. She jumps at the unexpected figure lingering just outside the door, and then realization dawns. 
“Oh, you must be the girlfriend,” she says. “You’re welcome to go on in.”
So you do, cautiously easing into the room, hoping that when he turns, his face won’t be covered in slashes and bruises—a sight you’re not sure you can handle with strength and maturity. You’d love him all the same, but to see him in such pain would take you to your knees. But again, he’s fine. Beautiful as ever. Not a mark on him that you can see save for the one on the mend. 
Jake’s face brightens at the sight of you; he practically glows, and you’re shocked to discover yourself not running into his arms. You’re frozen for a moment as you take him in. It’s a quick moment—a brief second to recover—but then you’re stepping to him, your eyes watering, your bottom lip quivering, your fingers reaching up to brush over the stark white tape. You’re careful with your feathery touch, relieved to see that his injury is not so sensitive as to make him wince.
Jake’s arms wrap around your waist. His eyes do not break from your face. He’s patient as you scan him once more for visible injuries, verifying for your own sake.
“It’s just the one,” he tells you, his voice soft and only a few notes above a whisper. Your eyes snap to his. He lifts his hand to cup your cheek, thumb stroking your cheekbone. “Come here, beautiful.”
You melt when his lips gently touch yours, but the kiss doesn’t last long as innocent. There’s bites and sucking and giving and taking, and it’s perfect in its semi-sloppy neediness. Voices passing by the door is what breaks the two of you apart. Jake lightly groans before he chuckles and rests his forehead against yours. 
“I missed you,” he says. He places another quick peck on your lips. “I want to take you home.”
“Then take me home.”
“J-Jake!”
You feel his mouth curve against your core before he licks another stripe right through you, tongue like a heated blade slicing you in two halves, spreading you open and baring you inside and out. You’re completely gone—lost in the sole way you’re willing to be lost—as Jake tethers you to this earth. He’s the only one you trust to ground you while simultaneously letting your head float amongst the clouds. 
His arms curl around the thickness of your thighs, locking onto you and keeping your hips steady atop the mattress as he devours and tastes and sucks and licks some more.  
“Come on, beautiful,” he mumbles into your folds, just loud enough for you to hear through the rush of blood in your ears. “Let me have it.”
As if you could hold it back. 
Your whole body jerks and writhes as you sink into pleasure, back arching, head digging into the pillow. Jake reaches a hand up to intertwine your fingers and you squeeze them tightly while he continues to kiss folds and brush his nose against the overstimulated bud.
“There we go,” he coos until your body calms.
Jake crawls onto the bed, lips and tongue traveling up the soft flesh of your stomach, between the valley of your breasts, into the dip in your throat before he kisses you, demanding you taste everything you just gave him. 
Jake introduced you to your taste during those weeks before his deployment. His head lived between your legs. He showed you how to perch perfectly on his face, encouraging you through your concerns of suffocating him. He begged you to relax when he backed you up against the wall, slipped your pants off, knelt, and tossed your leg over his shoulder as he dove in. And after each success of making you crumble to pieces, he sealed his lips to yours and pushed his tongue into your mouth. 
You know your taste as well as you know his, and on the occasions he spills down your throat before he returns the favor, you get the satisfaction of the combination on your tongue—a mixture more intoxicating than an alcoholic binge. 
“I’m never going to want anything like I want you,” he says after he slips inside of you, the intensity of the love in his eyes penetrating your soul.
“Then it's good that I’m yours,” you whisper back.
Thrusts that were paced and steady and gentle falter. With your words comes a sharp rut of his hips—unexpected to you both—that hits hard, deep. Jake chokes on the air in his lungs, his eyes snapping shut as you cry out. 
“Fuck” hisses through the grit of his teeth. Then he finds his pace again. 
His head falls to your neck. Nibbles make you gasp, and the image of examining claiming bruises in the mirror first thing come morning causes your walls to clench around the veiny column moving in and out of you. Your fingers fist into his hair. Nails dig into the toned muscle of his ass. 
“I do love you, Jake,” you say. 
He stops completely, but you don’t question it. The fingers in his hair loosen and you lightly scrape your nails along his scalp, down to the base of his neck, then back up into blond locks. Turning your head, you stamp a tender kiss onto his temple. 
Jake doesn’t say a thing. He doesn’t look at you. His thick breaths burn the delicate skin just under your ear. When he begins to move, he’s slow, taking his time before he picks up, working to nudge that special spot inside of you that tightens a white-hot coil in your belly. 
“I love you so much, beautiful,” he whispers.
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lucysarah-c · 1 day
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After the last piece of art I posted, I realized that most people don’t know I draw and only follow me for my writing (which is perfectly fine, haha). So, I thought I’d put together a little collage of my favorite pieces I’ve done—some are commissions, and some aren’t, lol!
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And of course haha my well known comic:
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And some chibis 'cause why not:
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Thank you so much for your attention! 💖
If you'd like to be a sweetheart, please consider following me on Instagram, TikTok, and Pinterest.
I'm hoping to do a live drawing of Levi on TikTok, but I haven’t reached enough followers yet—haha! I think it could be a lot of fun, and we could all decide together what I should draw next. 💖
Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @anlian-aishang @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @s0meb0dy-0nce-t0ld-me @l3visthighs @littlerequiem @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @hannieslovebot @mariaace @ackrmntea @sixpennydame @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @saranootnoot @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @darkskywishes @searriously @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @ackermanswifee @braunsbabe @moonchild-angel @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @dressycobra7 @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @comidacorunda @mikabella7 @midnightwriter21
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suplicyy · 3 days
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heyy hope you’re gonna take this request, can you write something about canon kuroo confessing?
No time skip please. Like with a female reader which doesn’t act in love with him like the rest of the girls, she’s not pick me or stuff like this.
So Kuroo can do nothing but finally talk to her because he can’t stand the fact that she’s different from other girls.
I can’t really picture canon Kuroo confessing, that’s why I’m asking, I really like your writing!
Thank u so much
Notice me Please!!!
Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader
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— Summary: He has his eyes on you, but for some reason you don't look back.
— Tags/Genre: Fem!Reader | Fluff
— Warnings: None!
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Kuroo drums his fingers impatiently on his desk, and with one hand resting on his chin, he stares at your figure across the classroom. You seemed quite entertained listening to music, which he has no idea what it is, but that sight makes him feel something inside him.
Frustration. He admit that he can't stand seeing you like this, because you're never like that when he tries to talk to you, and that made him feel a kind of jealousy, even if it was for something inanimate.
Every time you talked to him, you seemed indifferent, almost as if you were uninterested. Damn, why don't you look at him with the same twinkle in your eye when you're listening to something on your stupid headphones?
It's been a while since Kuroo started to have strong feelings for you, your heart skips a beat every time you pass each other in the school hallways, with Kuroo always looking back when you pass by him. But he never revealed that to you of course.
And no matter how many bad jokes or flirtations he told you, how many little gifts he left in your locker or on your desk in secret and then hinted that he was the one who left them there, it seemed like you never cared about his desperate actions for your attention.
At first, he thought this was just the way you acted, that you were more shy and reserved. But then he noticed the giggles you had with your friends, how talkative you seemed to be around them.
Now he thinks the problem is with him, that maybe you hate his presence, or just don't care about him.
He is a relatively popular person at school. His volleyball team reached the Nationals, which gave great prominence to all the team members, especially him. So it's no surprise to hear girls gossiping about Kuroo in the hallways.
To tell the truth, he didn't care much about it, sometimes he would even tease Yaku for having more fans than him, but that was it.
The only person he craves attention from is you.
But he doesn't know if you feel the same way, or at least care about his existence.
So that's why today would be the day he would bring the whole truth to light. His only option now would be to confess to you. Maybe it was a last choice made out of desperation and doubt, but he can no longer bear your indifference towards him.
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Your club activities are over, so you can finally go home after a tiring day of boring classes and uninteresting people.
Now, you were walking towards the school exit, but you soon stopped when you saw a certain boy with a peculiar hairstyle standing at the gate, almost as if he was waiting for someone.
You figured he was waiting for Kenma to go home since they were best friends, so you didn't care much about it and continued walking to the exit.
"Hey, [Name]!"
A familiar voice calls you. And as you turn to the side, you see Kuroo walking towards you, waving at you.
"Let's go home together, shall we?" you look around, and then you look at him again, raising an eyebrow. "Aren't you going with Kenma?" "He said he needed to go somewhere else to buy a new game, something like that. And since I'm alone... I thought about going with you."
He gives you a smile that would make anyone fall in love immediately, but it never seemed to have any effect on you.
You looked at him with an enigmatic expression, almost as if you want to read him through his actions and words. "Um, sure." You say as you adjust your backpack hanging on your shoulder, soon starting to walk, with Kuroo by your side.
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Your house wasn't that far from the school, but in the situation you were in, it felt like an eternity had passed since you left the school gates and started walking.
Neither of you exchanged a single word, except for Kuroo who was humming some random song.
"Y'know..." he says after a moment, which made you direct your gaze to him, who was still staring at the path ahead.
"I once heard you listening to this song. You turn your music up so loud that anyone who passes by can hear it coming from your headphones." your expression changes to one of surprise.
"S-Seriously? I never realized that..." you laugh awkwardly, looking away to the floor.
"Yeah... but it's not because of music or headphones that I called you to walk with me." Kuroo stops walking unexpectedly, making you stop too.
Looking back, you notice his expression is more serious, almost as if he is a little nervous.
"Actually, there's something I wanted to talk to you."
His tone of voice seemed to have changed too, which left you confused, or even a little nervous, as much as you didn't want to admit it.
"I...like you, [Name]." As he uttered these words, it was almost as if a weight had been lifted from the boy's shoulders, his previously tense posture allowing himself the luxury of relaxing, even if for a brief moment.
However, the opposite seemed to manifest in you. Previously unconcerned about what this simple walk would offer you, it was almost as if your breath was suddenly caught in your throat. Your heart soon feels like it's leaving your body, hammering in your chest in a fast, nervous rhythm.
"Huh?" you say in disbelief at what you heard. Shock quickly turns to annoyance, his eyebrows furrowing in disbelief. "Look... don't think this kind of joke is funny, because you won't hear me laugh about it."
"Joke? Why would you think that?" Kuroo says this right after with a nasal laugh.
He walks closer to you, and you instinctively step back, until your back is in contact with a large tree that was close to the sidewalk. He stops right in front of you, and looks at you with a touch of doubt, almost as if he had heard something incredible.
"Why do you think I would make fun of something like that? You- my feelings for you... would never be a joke to me." he says with an affectionate tone, his eyes softening for a moment as he maintains eye contact with you.
"Maybe this could have been just a challenge your friends arranged for you, like in those cliché movies." your tone conveys sarcasm, but with a touch of bitterness "Or maybe some pretty girl rejected you, and is now looking for solace in anyone even remotely close to you..." "Or even-"
Your words are cut off as you feel Kuroo's lips land tenderly on your cheek. His hand reaches out to cup the other side of your face, and the other lands on the tree behind you, pinning you there.
"I like you, [Name]." he whispers in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "And I will tell you this until you can't prove otherwise."
Kuroo takes his hand off the tree and takes your hand, then looks at you seriously. "And I mean it."
You feel your cheeks heat up, but you quickly compose yourself, and a small smile appears on your face, but this time it's genuine.
"Hmm, so you want to win me over, huh?" you push yourself away from the tree, placing your free hand on his shoulder. Your sudden closeness makes Kuroo surprised, making him suddenly feel shy.
"Only words won't convince me... you better work hard for it, Tetsurou." you move away from him, and start opening your backpack, looking for your headphones.
You give a small wave to Kuroo, but without turning towards him, focusing only on the path in front of you.
Dumbfounded, Kuroo waves back, his cheeks dyed with pink in embarrassment.
"Thank you for accompanying me, but I can go on my own from here." You say as you fit your headphones onto your head, putting on a random playlist that you made in honor of your little crush, who is definitely not Kuroo Tetsurou (it is).
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— A/N: Uh........hi........I'm back.............
First of all, I want to apologize a thousand times to whoever sent me this request, I'm really sorry it took me SO LONG to post this. In addition to apologizing to everyone who follows me here, for not having given any sign of life for more than a month....😭
I really don't have a real excuse for doing this other than a total of 0 creativity and several hours of my life in hell (school), so I really needed to take this time for myself, until I felt more comfortable coming back here again.
I'm currently feeling quite creative artistically, mainly because I'm watching MHA again (which I'll probably bring here on my page) and also because I'm reading the Haikyuu manga. Plus, I passed pretty much every subject at school, so I don't have to worry so much about grades.
So...I'm officially back now!! I apologize again, and in compensation for this, I am already writing 3 more new things for you (2 are from MHA😜😜🤪); and I also won't open requests until I finish writing these, so stay tuned!!
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lailawinchesterr · 2 days
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—✧ you’re jensen ackles’ non-famous girlfriend
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liked by jensenackles and others
yourusername I think we got drunk
view comments…
urbsfusername think?
yourusername you live and you learn
unifriend what the actual fuck you met jensen ackles?
uniclassmate bro jensen fucking ackles just liked your post
yourusername has privated her account !
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liked by hilarieburton and others
yourusername thank you for a great night, hilarie (I tried getting jen to stay in the white but i could only do so much)
view comments…
jensenackles not my color
randomacc every color is your color
unifriend i can’t believe you know jensen ackles bro how did you even meet??
urbsfusername all white party? wowow
yourusername taking you instead next time, you probably won’t change into a flannel by the end of the night @/jensenackles
jensenackles it wasn’t a flannel🙄
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liked by jaredpadalecki and others
yourusername beach day with my fav people + @/urbsfusername
view comments…
jensenackles where did all of of these come from… had the best time honey❤️
yourusername we can thank her for that, she’s been taking pics of us the entire trip, but I’d say you did pretty well with the pic of me and her
urbsfusername best trip ever
yourusername tell me about it
randomacc what the fuck is happening!!! where are the gossip sites and why are they not giving us answers
unifriend you guys are so cute
yourusername thanks babe💋
otherbsf this is why you ditched this weekend🙄
yourusername would’ve asked you to come but you wouldn’t miss that party for a funeral
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liked by yourusername and others
jensenackles a sample of our beach day with @/jaredpadalecki and @/genpadalecki ❤️
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randomuser absolutely no fucking way jensen is seeing someone
jacklesfan we just lost our most prized possession what the hell
urbsfusername y’all are the sweetest!
—liked by jensenackles
jaredpadalecki best way to end season 12, glad to see you happy, brother
—liked by jensenackles
randomacc no cause wtf does ‘happy’ mean?? who is he dating bro
realjacklesfan jared’s married with kids, about time jensen got the happy ending he deserves.
usertwo we don’t know if they’re even that serious.
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liked by yourusername and others
jensenackles happy birthday to the most creative and fun person out there @/yourusername, i don’t know what my life would be like without you but i’m glad we get to spend what’s rest of it together, love you❤️
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randomacc bitch why did she actually turn out pretty ugh
yourusername no other way i’d rather spend my birthday, love you so much!
—liked by jensenackles
jaredpadalecki happy birthday @/yourusername, no one deserves a good day more than you
yourusername thanks jay, miss you guys a lot
jacklesfan we get to see her!!!! aaaaa! she’s so cute, you guys are so great together
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genuinely the most fun thing over ever done, let me know if u like it cause jared padalecki, you’re next! & if u wanna be tagged.
the usernames:
uni friend
uni classmate
jackles fan
real jackles fan
random account
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alieinthemorning · 1 day
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How’s It Hanging, Beautiful? [Ace Trappola]
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Content: Fluff, Established Relationship, Reader-Insert
Pronouns: None
Remaster of: “You’re so beautiful.” | Ace Trappola [400 Follower Event]
Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!
This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.
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Ace wouldn’t say that he wasn’t a morning person, but instead a deep sleeper. Usually, it’d take a lot to rouse him from sleep. However, there was one thing that could always get him up, no matter what. 
And that was the smell of Sunday morning breakfast. 
Saliva was pooled in his mouth before he even opened his eyes. He swallowed it as the rest of his body followed the lead of his taste buds. He stretched (carefully, he didn’t want to get a cramp), letting out a satisfying groan. Then he sat up, eyes finally opening to the dimly lit room. 
You were not there beside him or lingering in the room, but that made sense since you had to be the one cooking. What was odd was that Grim was nowhere to be found, but maybe today was his lucky day, and you’d give him some extras (when would he learn that he’d only get anything if he’d actually help). Shaking his head, he grabbed his phone, and headed for the bathroom. 
After fixing his rough bed head and rinsing his mouth out, Ace made his way downstairs to join you and Grim in the kitchen. You must have gotten up earlier than usual today because breakfast was almost done.
“Come on! Lemme just have a little—” Grim’s paw was reaching toward the bowl of strawberries, but you quickly swatted it. 
“Let it alone. Go take your seat.” You didn’t even bat an eye.
Grim huffed, hopped off the stool, and retreating to the dining room. 
Ace didn’t bother with teasing him, and instead honed in on you. 
“Morning.” His arms wrapped around your waist. 
You turned in his arms, “Morning, sleeping beauty.” You pecked the underside of his chin. 
He returned your kiss with one on your forehead. “You coulda woke me up, you know…” 
“Yeah, but I like watching you drool.” 
Ace pulled back, “I do not drool.” 
You simply smiled as you picked up the plate of pancakes. “Time to set the the table.” 
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Sundays were lazy days, most of the time the three of you would just stay huddled up in bed all day after breakfast. Today was no different, except for Grim leaving to follow the sun (he was an expert sunbather, after all).  
Ace was a deep sleeper, but for some reason something pulled him from his sleep. And he was forever thankful for it. 
You were turned toward him (you were facing away from him when you fell asleep, you’re such a wild sleeper), mouth slightly open (no drool, damn it), lashing gently resting against dark circles. His thumb brushed against your lower lid. He should talk to Crowley about lessening your load. 
“How’s it hanging, beautiful?” 
Ace jolted, not expecting you to speak, let alone be awake. 
But then he smiled, “Not much, what’s going on with you, beautiful?”
“Just admiring you.”
“Crazy, me too.” 
You both laughed at yourselves,
and the beauty of your relationship.
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Happy Birthday, Ace!
And now that I've said that, time for a serious end note lol
Sooooooo on the 9/1/24, I had emergency gallbladder surgery! And now I'm having an emergency hysterectomy (Tomorrow lol)! Originally, my appointment was in November, but after another trip to the ER they finally realized that bleeding for 6 months straight actually isn't normal, and something should be done about it!
So, yeah, I'm gonna be out of commission (again)! Which, I've barely been posting anyway, but I've also been in excruciating pain for the past six months, sooo yeah!
I'll see yeah when I see y'all!
Ko-Fi | Masterlist
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louisupdates · 1 day
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krystlemakeup The photos from the last show of 2024. First of all, I have to say it’s been a pleasure be a part of the LT team and get to know an amazing bunch people. The crew, caterers, the band, support bands and family, girlfriends and wives, plus old and new faces that have joined along the way.
Oli who I’ve spent nearly every show with dancing, watching like it’s the first and being told to be quiet like naughty kids- legend!
The glam squad- cringe saying that - you know I love you guys.
You are all super talented and have so much passion for your job, it really is truly inspiring (too many of you to tag).
I’ve laughed a lot and probably equally cried a lot but this experience has been one of a kind. I went fully into it with my heart, massive suitcases and scissors in hand in hand.
Thank you for having me onboard Louis. We are all lucky to have the opportunity to travel, see what goes behind the scenes and be part of a music production so big.
You not only make the experience special to us all but everyone who sees the shows.
Here’s to the next success of LT3!
Only wished I took more photos for when I’ve completely lost my marbles and for it to never end :)
• Krystle Gohel posting about Louis Tomlinson at SUPERBLOOM FESTIVAL [8.9.2024], on 23.9.2024
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coquitokisses · 2 days
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Heyy! Idk if you ever wrote something like this and if you don’t want to it’s fine but I had been obsessed with this idea of Steve dating a Taylor swift level of famous artist. And like they were keeping their relationship private from everyone until some paparazzi caught them together somewhere and the internet goes crazy with “miss americana and the america's golden boy” (iykyk)
Miss Americana and America's Golden Boy | Steve Rogers
Pairings: Steve Rogers x singer!female reader
Warnings/Tags: fluff, fluff and fluff lol
Word count: 568 (kinda short lol)
Summary: Reader and Steve have been dating for a few months now but for obvious reasons, they made the relationship public just yet because of their jobs. But those plans go to hell when some paparazzis get pictures of you and Steve.
A/n: hiii love! First of all, thank you so much for sending this and second, sorry I took so long to answer it, I had no idea how or what to write lmao but I finally took the time to think about something and just do it! I’m still not very convinced, but I think it’s kinda cute so here it is! (hope I was able to bring your idea to life lol <3 )
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« The internet goes crazy after seeing pictures of Y/N Y/L/N with none other than Captain America walking out of a cafe! »
« America’s golden boy, Steve Rogers, spotted leaving a coffee shop in New York with the singer Y/N Y/L/N yesterday morning. »
« Captain America is no longer single and neither is our beloved Y/N Y/L/N! Both have been spotted walking out of a coffee shop in New York holding hands! »
“You’re fucking joking.” You stared at your phone shocked, you just wanted to scream
“You need to calm down.” Steve said
“Calm down?!” You turned to look at him “We’re everywhere! Everyone is talking about us!”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Are you aware of this? We’re two very recognized persons, do you know what people are gonna be saying?” You sat on the bed feeling very overwhelmed
Now on every event and everywhere you go the questions that everyone’s gonna be asking are about your relationship with Mr. Captain America.
“You have a lot of fans, they’re just gonna hate me.” You sighed
“Says the girl who’s been in the eye of fame for a decade.” He tilted his head slightly “If they’re gonna hate someone, is probably gonna be me.”
“Are you kidding? You’re America’s hero! Everybody loves you, babe.”
“And you’re one of the most listened and talented artists in the world, people love you too.” He said sitting next to you “And besides, I think it was time to tell the world, everyone at the compound was starting to get suspicious.”
You couldn’t help but laugh a little because you knew that it was true, he has told you millions of times how Bucky or Natasha, even Tony, were questioning him about where he was at or why he always sneaked out and came back late at night.
“Yeah, it was probably time.” You looked at him and he just gave you a sweet little smile that made you feel a little better
You really couldn’t believe that you were dating the Captain America, it was absolutely crazy to even think about it. And he also couldn’t believe that he was dating you. One of the most recognized singers in the whole world.
You met at one of Tony’s parties about a year ago and you had such a blast that night that you exchanged numbers and started talking. Obviously you both wanted to keep the relationship private because of your jobs. Of course you were planning on making it public, but just, not now and not like this.
“It’s just that it was nice to have you all to myself.” You say with a shrug
He smiled. “You still have me all to yourself.”
“But now the world knows and it’s not gonna be the same.” You pouted
“Yeah, I know, honey.” He put your hair behind your ear
“Are you sure you still want to date a singer? The fans can be a little crazy about who I date.. sorry about that.”
He chuckled. “Yes, I’m very sure.” He nodded
“Ready to start answering questions about us everywhere you go?”
“Are you?” He cocked an eyebrow at you
You nodded. “Yeah, I’m so ready to brag about being Mr. America’s girlfriend.” You replied and he smiled
“So let’s do this, miss America.” He grabbed your hand and deposited a soft kiss on it
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masterlist
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malarkgirlypop · 2 days
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MEDIC! Part 41 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)
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It's been a year since I started this story. I posted last year on my birthday and I do the same again today. I want to thank everyone who has stuck with me while I write this, all your love and support is greatly appreciated, I love you all so much. So here's a birthday present from me. Thank you all again!
Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, not hate to anyone involved.
Tag list: @imusicaddict, @b00ks1ut, @mstiemountainhop, @awaterfalls, @lovememadly92, @lucyfromtheoldhouse, @blueberry-ovaries, @next-autopsy, @saintmalosunsets, @anaso12 anyone else please let me know.
I rubbed my eyes, blinking hard and then staring at the shimmer that mocked me. After everything that had happened, now it was back. 
It glimmered in the sunlight. The oil slick transparent film didn’t move as I approached it. It was just as I had remembered. I stopped a metre away, too scared I would be sucked in if I walked any closer. The whole time my heart never stilled, it thumped in my ears as I glared at the film. 
“Really you’re back after all this time?” I chastised the insentient object. 
“Fuck you!” I screamed, I was far enough away from the base that no one would hear me. I picked up handfuls of stones and hurled them at the shimmer. 
“Why did you do this to me? I didn’t ask for this!” My voice cracked as I yelled. 
“I never asked for any of this! You brought me here, why are you back?” Tears slipped down my cheeks. 
I didn’t know what I expected, that someone would magically pop out from inside the portal and explain to me why on earth it was me that was taken. That they would say it’s fine if you want to stay, this is just an offer, or, if you do not come back through the shimmer life as you know it would cease to exist. 
But no, no one was here to answer my question. It was only the shimmer that sat perfectly still as I screamed at it, as I launched stones and debris its way. It didn’t cry out and ask me to stop, only mocked me with its silence.   
“I hate you!” I screamed before I turned on my heel and sprinted away from the provoking portal. 
—------------------------------
I sat on the floor packing and unpacking my bag for hours. Each time I packed the bag an overwhelming panic took hold of my chest and only eased when I took everything out of my medic bag. 
“What are you doing?” I heard from behind me. I swivelled around in panic. 
Don stood in the entrance, his brows knitted together in concern. 
“How long have you been standing there?” I asked, swallowing the lump in my throat. 
“Long enough to know you’re leaving. Why?” He started forward to where I sat criss-cross on the floor.
“Where are you going?” Don demanded when I didn’t answer. 
“It’s back.” I uttered, not knowing what else to say. 
“What’s back?” He stood looking down at me. 
“The shimmer.” My voice was so quiet as I told him the truth. I watched his face fall and then his eyes flicked over my belongings that were scattered in front of me. 
“You’re leaving.” It was a realisation that fell from his lips. “You can’t!” 
“Don please don’t make this harder than it already is.” I begged, feeling tears spring to my eyes. It was hard enough to make this decision myself but for Don to beg me to stay was going to make it impossible. 
“Why are you leaving?” Don genuinely asked. 
“Because I have to!” 
“Said who? The shimmer police?” His tone was serious. 
“No. But why would it show up again if I was supposed to stay?” I was out of answers for him, I was just as confused as him about this. My heart was torn, I wanted to stay but I didn’t know the cost of that decision. 
“What if I don’t leave and then everyone dies ‘cause I fucked it all up?” I let him into the thoughts that had been racing through my mind even before the shimmer had shown up again. 
“If I stay and the world falls apart because of me and people die. I could never forgive myself.” I didn’t need to be the cause of anymore death, and if that meant giving up the one thing that made me happy then it was a sacrifice I would have to make. 
“You know what I would do?” He asked joining me on the floor and taking my hands in his. “I would say fuck everyone else and choose you.” 
“That’s easy for you to say you're not the one with this decision. I can’t say fuck everyone, that’s not me!” Don nodded he knew it wasn’t in my nature to put myself first. 
“Why are you making this decision based on other people?” Don’s thumb rubbed absentmindedly over the back of my hand. 
“Are you running because of what happened?” His eyes flicked up to meet mine. 
I shook my head, my mouth twisting at the thought of what had happened only last night. The scars were still fresh, literally. 
“No, I am doing what’s right, and that means I can’t stay, even though I want to!” I was already at my wits end without the appearance of the shimmer. Tears fell down my cheeks. 
“Be selfish, for once in your life Em! Choose you!” Don pleaded, his hands tightly wrapped around mine as if I would disappear in a blink of an eye. 
“I can’t!” I yelled, rising to my feet and pacing back and forward across the small room. 
But Don continued, standing up as well to grab me as I passed by him. His hands firmly gripped on my shoulders. Don shook me as he spoke, as if trying to shake his words into me. 
“Because other people would choose themselves, in your position they would choose to stay, not because of the greater good, but because they wanted to.” He was right, a lot of people would choose the outcome that would better accommodate them. But when have I ever put myself first? 
“You deserve to be happy.” I wanted to be happy, after everything I had been through in life all I wished for was to be happy.
“I can’t be the cause of other people’s deaths.” I couldn’t have that weight on my shoulders, I couldn’t live my life knowing other people suffered for me. It just didn’t seem fair. 
“Fuck everyone else Em. If you staying meant the world was going to end tomorrow, you know what I would choose, you I would choose you, because I love you.” 
“That’s not fair Don!” 
“I would die for you. I would choose my demise to spend one more day with you.” I choked back my sobs. 
“So I would die for you, but you wouldn't die for me?” Don questioned. I understood why he was wandering. From his point of view I seemed to care about everyone else more than him. 
“No, I am. If I go, I’m dying. I don’t think I could ever be happy again. But if that meant that you got to have a long and prosperous life, then I would die a million times over for you. And going home and living my life will be that.” 
“Then live for me!” Don bargained. “What are you going back to there anyway, you have a family here!” 
“Doesn’t mean I belong.” 
“Emily, ever since you have arrived all you have done is belong. You fit right in, you were meant to be here. The shimmer brought you here for a reason, fate itself!” Don was right I may have been brought back to this time for a reason, but then it could've been random all the same.    
“But what if it was only for a moment, only for a short while. What if I stay and everything falls apart because of me?” The lingering doom haunted me.  
“There are so many what ifs, but what ifs don't answer your question. Where would you rather be?” Don gazed down at me with his intense brown eyes. 
“Don’t make me answer Don, this is already so hard.” I hiccuped, I shook my head as I pushed away from him, turning my back on the man I loved.  
“Which would you pick if there were no consequences?” His voice strained as emotions flooded through his soft tone.  
“Here.” I whispered, still not facing him.  
“So stay, there are no consequences, you can’t think of the what ifs that will only haunt you. If you go back and regret your decision, don’t you think that will tear you apart?” Don rounded me so he stood in front of me again, his hand finding the underside of my chin and tilting it up to look into his eyes. They shimmered with unshed tears. 
“Yeah but what if I stay and the world ends and everyone I love dies! That would be even worse.” I emphasised my point over and over again, but still he fought against me.  
“It wouldn’t matter if we were together!”
It would be an agree to disagree.  
“I hate to break it to you Em, but everyone you love will die eventually. You can either be here for it or not.” 
“The difference is I don’t want to be the cause.” I stood my ground. I would not be the reason for the world turning to fire and ash. 
“I can’t face that. It will fucking kill me.” I would become a shell of myself if that was to happen. There would be no one for him to love anyway.  
“So I can’t talk you out of it? After all this time you are going to choose everyone else over me?” Don’s hurt radiated down his body, his hand fell away from my face as he took a step back. 
“Please Don don’t say it like that.” I begged stepping forward into his space but he kept his distance.  
“It’s fine you have made your decision, I clearly can’t stop you. Even though I hate you right now, just know that I love you and I hope that haunts you till the day you die!” Don’s bitter tone was harsh as he stomped out of the room.  
“Don!” I called after him as I chased him down. “I can’t leave with you hating me. If you love me you will let me go. You will respect my choice.” 
He only looked down at me, anger and pain etched into his features. 
“I will let you process this, while I say my goodbyes.” I kissed him gently on the cheek before turning to head back inside to pack my bag for the final time. 
—---------------------------------------
I took a shaky breath before entering the mess hall. The men noticed my arrival waving me over to the table. I kept my own emotions at bay as they all smiled at me. This would be the last time I saw their faces. 
“Hey boys!” I cooed to the men. They all stood from their seats as I rounded the table. 
“Em, are you alright?” Lieb asked me as I sat beside him. I resisted the urge to reach up and brush my fingers through his hair. 
“I’m ok.” I uttered softly. 
A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. I leant into him, my hands coming around his bicep as I lent my head against his shoulder. 
“Em?” Lieb asked, craning his head to look down at me. “Why do you look like you have bad news?” 
“Because I do.” A sombre tone fell over the table. I straightened myself from my position and stood. 
“They have ordered me back home. Due to the events of last night, they don’t feel I am fit to continue my service.” I broke my lie to the men. Their faces fell as a groan of protest rippled through the group of my fellow Easy men. 
“It’s ok Em, we’ll see you when we get back home.” Babe chirped as he grinned at me. 
I could feel my heart ripping in my chest. He wouldn’t see me again. None of them would. 
“Yeah!” My voice cracked as sadness seeped into my tone. I quickly righted the mistake. “We will all have a big party when you guys get home.” Lieb reached up, taking my hand in his, giving me a reassuring squeeze. 
“But I’m going to miss all of you-” I had to pause to take a shaky breath before continuing. I laughed as the men looked up at me with concern on their faces. 
“I’m ok, just sad that I won’t be able to see you guys for a while.” My other hand was taken by Bull. The man who had saved me right at the beginning of this mess. 
“I want to come and give each one of you a hug goodbye. And then I’ll be off!” Complaints and offeres to were raised by the Easy men.  
“Don said he wanted to have me all to himself before I left, so you all have to do as he wishes!” Malarkey hadn’t agreed to anything yet, but I couldn’t have the men sending me off through the portal. 
The men thankfully agreed to my terms. 
I went around the table taking each man into my arms. Tightly squeezing them one last time. 
Lipton pulled me into his embrace as he whispered into my ear. “Be safe, Em.” I pulled back and his hands cupped my cheeks, brushing away the tears that slipped down them. 
Perco grinned widely at me as I stood blubbering in front of him. “Hey, don’t cry! I’ll make you eggs anytime, and we won’t even have to get it from the source.” His arms wrapped around me rocking me side to side in a boisterous manner. 
Martin hugged me like the dad I never had, pressing a soft kiss to my hair. 
Luz opened his arms, tears glimmering in his own eyes. “Don’t cry George or you’ll make me cry more!” 
“Who’s gonna laugh at my jokes?” His voice broke as he tried to be funny. I didn’t answer his question, only holding him closer. 
Webster and Tab both gave me kisses to the cheeks, wishing me safely on my journey. 
“Thank you for fixing me up Gene.” A bittersweet smile formed on his lips as he pulled me close. 
“Thank you for being the best medic Em. I didn’t tell you enough but I think you make a wonderful nurse.” I buried my face into his shoulder as his hand stroked down my back. 
Babe and I didn’t utter a word to each other, he only crushed me to his chest. We both quietly cried into each other's shoulders.
I pulled back, using my palm to wipe his face clean. “You’ll see me again Em.” He promised as I nodded tearfully.  
Bull enveloped me into his arms like I was a small child who had curled into his lap. He pressed kisses to the top of my head. I listened to his thick twang as he spoke, “I’ll miss you little lady. Don’t be a stranger.” 
Finally it was Lieb left. Only once in my life had I seen the man cry, but here he was looking up at me with tears in his eyes. 
“Can’t believe you’re going.” He said as he rocked us back and forward. “What am I gonna do without you?” 
“You’ll be fine Lieb.” I pulled back so I could memorise his face. He shook his head and took me into his embrace once again. 
I waved goodbye to them all as I left the mess facility. I still had to find the rest of the officers. 
I found Nix and Winters first. “Em are you doing alright?” Dick took in my appearance, my blotchy cheeks and bloodshot eyes. 
“I came to take up your offer. I would like to leave.” The men looked shocked, glancing from me to each other. 
“When would you like to leave?” Nix asked. 
“As soon as possible.” 
The men again looked even more flabbergasted. 
“We have one at 1300hrs, a jeep can take you to the port and then you ship back home.” Dick reported, checking his watch. It was 1130am, I had a couple hours before my departure. 
“Is that soon enough for you?” Dick’s eyes flicked up from his wrist. 
I nodded. “Thank you both for all that you have done for me. Richard, thank you for taking me in, and trusting me. Lew, thank you for caring for me and keeping me safe.” 
“You guys don’t know how much you mean to me. I never really had a male figure in my life. The love and support you have shown me in this small amount of time we have known each other, will fill up the rest of my lifetime and even after my death.” The men looked even more confused than before. 
“Emily you’re only going home, we will see you again I’m sure.” Dick surged forward to bring me into his arms. His hand smoothed down my curls soothingly.  
“I hope so.” I whispered into his jacket, latching my hands around his waist. 
Pulling back I found Nix now at our side, I went from one man to the other. I flung my arms around Lew's neck as he nuzzled into me.
“Gonna miss ya kid.” Nix said softly into my hair. I could hear the thickness of emotion in his voice, as if he somehow knew that this was inevitably the end. 
I finally stepped back from the embrace, sniffing and wiping away my tears that seemed endless. 
“I don’t mean to be forward, but I love you both, so very dearly.” Both the men chuckled. 
“We love you too Em.” Dick’s charming smile appeared on his lips. 
“I’ve already said goodbye to all of the men, but there is just one more person I need to see.” 
Dick nodded pointing back over his shoulder, “Should be somewhere in the office.” 
I gave a thank you before scurrying off to find the said man. 
My fist knocked on the wooden frame of the door that stood open. Speirs sat at his desk with his head down filing through papers. 
“Come in.” Ron called without glancing to see who it was. 
“Sir.” I started, but the sound of my voice caused the man to look up. 
“Em!” He smiled at me. “What’s the occasion?” 
Ron set aside the task he was working on to give me his full attention. 
“I came to say goodbye. I’m leaving in a few hours, I’m gonna go home. I think it’s my time.” 
Speirs sighed but smiled still. “I can’t say I’m surprised. You need the rest, after-” He paused, having to look away as he continued to speak. “After everything you’ve been through.”
“We’ll miss you. But I’m glad you won’t be coming to the Pacific, it’s not something you should be exposed to.” 
I hummed in agreement. “Yeah, I think I just need to go home and relax. And don’t worry about giving me your treasures, I’ve got it all sorted out.” His brow pinched. 
“It’s a gift.” Ron assured me. 
“And I thank you for the kindness, but it isn’t necessary anymore.” I held my ground, there would be no one for him to send it to. I would rather he keep it. 
“Oh, so you’re going, going.” Ron corrected. 
“I’m sorry?” I asked, confused by his comment. 
“You think I didn’t notice?” Speirs peered up at me, confusion lined my face. 
“What?” My heart drummed in my ears. 
“I’m a smart man, Emily. I have done my research on you. I have done my research on everyone. But you stood out. No records, nothing. I have been watching you, I notice things.” The more he spoke the more confused I became. 
“You aren’t from here. I don’t know why or how, but I know you weren’t born during this time. And you’ve made the decision to go home.” Speirs stood from his chair and rounded the desk to stand in front of me. 
“You’ve come to say goodbye for good. Haven’t you?” He bent down slightly so that he was looking me in the eyes. 
I was speechless, all I could do was nod. 
“How? How did you even come to that conclusion?” 
“It doesn’t matter. It never mattered. But for some reason I assumed you would stay.” Speirs’ arms drew me in. 
“What does Don think?” He asked as I laid my head on his chest. 
“He hates me for it.” I admitted sourly. 
“I’m sure he’ll come round.” Speirs reassured me as he cradled my face to his heart. 
“I wanted you to walk me down the aisle.” My thoughts surged from my mouth before I could hold them back. I had thought about it when I was planning to stay. If I was to be wed to Don, Ron was the one I wanted to give me away. 
“Good. No one else would be allowed but me.” Speirs chuckled.  
My laughs turned into sobs as I clutched him closer. “Am I making a huge mistake?” 
“You are doing what you think is best Em, and I trust you.” He pulled me back to look down at me. “Follow your heart.” 
“Thank you for everything-” 
“You don’t need to give me a big speech Em. I know how you feel about me and you know how I feel about you. Let’s just have this moment.” 
I think I spent two hours with Ron. Most of it I spent sobbing, but to have those last few hours together before I left filled me with so much joy it hurt. 
I tried to find Don, but he was nowhere to be seen and it was getting closer to when I would have to be out of sight. 
Sobbing, I walked back to where I had found the shimmer. I walked faster before my selfishness got the best of me and I turned and walked the other way.     
“Stop!” Don called from behind me. 
“Don!” I pleaded, if he was here to stop me he was wasting his breath. 
“I thought about it. And you’re right. If you love something, let it go. I hope you do the same Em. I want you to live a happy life, and even though I hate the idea, find someone who will make you happy. I will think about you everyday, you will forever be in my heart."
"I wanted to do a lot of things with you Em. I wanted to marry you and take you home to meet my family who would love you so much, by the way. I wanted you to be the mother of my kids, and the grandmother to their kids and hell even a great grandmother! I wanted to get old with you and live a quiet life, just me and you, sitting on the porch drinking ice tea."
"And we would argue and bicker, but only because we loved each other so much. You will forever be the love of my life, even if I can’t have you. You will be in my dreams every night, until the day I die. And when I die, I hope to find you again in every lifetime, if only just to know you. And even when you’re gone I will look for you in every woman I pass on the street and in the stores."
"You will have my heart now and forever. I love you so much, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me.” His speech was broken by his cries, but it was the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me. 
“I love you Don. I wish I could choose to stay. I wish all those things could come true. You have captured my heart and I fear I will never love the same again. I will never love someone as deeply and as fiercely as I love you. I will never forget your laugh, the way you smile at me, the way you kiss me."
"You have seared yourself into my soul and I will carry you with me through every lifetime. I believe you are my one true love, and I will never find someone who makes me as happy as you do. Don’t think of this as goodbye, but see you again. I will find you, even if it’s only in my dreams. Thank you for coming.” I sobbed as he kissed my cheeks, then my lips. 
The most tender goodbye kiss. One that left me breathless for more but broken hearted at the same time. We stayed wrapped in each other's arms, head pressed together as our breaths mingled. 
I kissed him for the last time. “I love you.” I whispered softly. 
I turned and walked towards the shimmer. I stood in front of the portal as it shone in the sunlight. I didn’t look back, I couldn’t, it would stop me. 
Taking one last breath I stepped forward into the shimmer, before everything went black.
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syoddeye · 2 days
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I love your writing and literally read your blog like the morning paper. But the brainrot has been rotting and I can’t stop thinking about going on a date with Price and he talks about his three dogs back home and you think it’s so sweet that he loves his pets so much…then he takes you home for the first time and you realize why he complained about how difficult they were to train.
“Meet Gaz, Soap, and Ghost. Why d’you have that look on your face, love?”
jasdhlgjkahg 🧡 thank you, that is so kind. i hope i'm like the funny funny section and not family circus. apologies i don't have the brainspace for a full thing, but—
imagine you meet because he stops to compliment your dog. you're quite obsessed with your little pet. maybe you ramble on about their training and keeping. he mentions he has three of his own.
"wow! you've got your hands full, huh?"
"you could say that."
before you know it, twenty minutes pass and you're typing your number into his archaic non-smartphone. he calls that evening and asks you out for a drink. he seems nice, and he loves dogs, so what's the harm? you've been single for so long.
john's great. better than great, really. a gentleman. intelligent. funny. employed. it's become your custom to exchange little updates on your dogs whenever you meet. he doesn't have pictures to show you (explains he's a little paranoid due to his work. jokes about being an 'endangered species' with his 'dumb' phone.) but he assures you're they're smart, gorgeous, and good with people. really emphasizes that last bit.
"they're for protection and huntin'. took a bit of trainin' in those early years, but now they warm up quick those i deem friendly."
"would that include me?"
"care to find out?"
you suppose it's time to visit his place for once. he picks you up and spends the drive chatting about what he's making for dinner. he mentions that his 'boys' have already eaten, but tend to get underfoot. would you mind playing with them while he cooks? of course! sounds fun.
his property's beautiful. you notice lots of trees and a large fenced area as he takes you up the drive. the dogs must be spoiled with all that room to roam.
it isn't until you step inside, hear a television, and count the shoes in the entryway that a feeling of wrongness sweeps over you. however, john's arm hooks around your waist, and he herds you further inside. he doesn't allow your doubt to keep you at the door.
you want to believe he leaves the television on for the dogs. that he perhaps owns several pairs of shoes…in varying sizes.
but when you round a corner into a living space and see three men draped comfortably on a couch, the realization hits like a pail of cold water. it's the way their heads turn in unison. their slow pan from you to john. the glint of the id tags on their collars.
"meet gaz, soap, and ghost. why d'you have that look on your face, love?"
john chuckles, slips his hand down to squeeze your ass, then pats it playfully. He says he'll start dinner and that he's very thankful you're here to keep them preoccupied.
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dharmasharks · 2 days
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I read so many neat fics this summer thanks to the @ficreadingchallenge and managed to black out my bingo card! Not only did I finally get to stories that had been languishing in my TBR for literal years, but I discovered tons of delightful fics in genres I wouldn't have sought out otherwise.
Thank you mods for organizing this, I’m already itching to do it again. Bingo card below the cut, plus my unhinged ramblings about the 24 fics I got to read. (Mostly Stucky, but also a smattering of Sambucky, MattFoggy, a Winterhawk, a Captive Prince, and a Catwin.) 
WIP: on the shore of the wild world by verger_de_pommiers
MCU | Steve x Bucky | M | 19k | Civil War AU
In which a fierce little Steve shelters wounded union soldier Bucky in his remote cabin. Gorgeous prose, immersive historical detail, and tender protectiveness. I lucked into finding this as it was posting (it’s now complete!) and felt like the author had been reading my dream fic journal because it ticked so many of my very specific boxes!
No powers AU: Broken But Mending by Lissadiane
MCU | Bucky x Clint | M | 15k | Modern AU
Bucky is a recovering war vet who starts rebuilding his life one instagram post, coffee, and plant at a time with some motivation from Clint Barton’s weekly sex advice column. Spoiler: the advice isn’t so much about sex as it is about trying again, and accepting that we’re all scared and scarred and worthy of love anyway. Read this on a day where your heart needs a big hug of happiness. 
Secret relationship: Don't Ask by AnnaFugazzi
MCU | Steve x Bucky | M | 21k | WW2 
I’ve seen this fic recced a lot for wartime stucky but was admittedly apprehensive because it’s canon-compliant and we all know where that train gets off, ya know? This is not a lighthearted premise either: Steve and Bucky get outed and because they’re a propaganda machine, the Howlies are ordered to keep their relationship a secret, despite their intense discomfort—all told in a devastatingly effective outsider perspective from Gabe. I appreciate that the author didn’t shy away from depicting unflattering (and hard to read!) period-typical attitudes, including those Gabe and Morita would have faced in the service.
Newest fic in the tag of your choice: Cabin Fever by missbeizy
MCU | Steve x Bucky | E | 5k | Cabin PWP
Missbeizy never fails to deliver on beautifully written stucky smut that caters to my tastes, so when I got that notification you better believe I jumped on it stat. Even in their shorter fics, they always build up a lovely setting and tension, which makes the eventual hot, hot sexy times feel even sexier. (All their stucky fics are *chefs kiss* — Foothold and Number of Years are my favorites.)
Mission fic: (With eyes shut) it's you I'm thinking of by Yavannie
MCU | Sam x Bucky | E | 3k | Partners with Benefits
Gosh only knows I enjoy a dynamic where it’s easier for two closed-off people to communicate physically than to actually talk! About their feelings! Good stuff!
Found family: Only the Good Die Young by ZenaidaMacroura / @zenaidamacrouras1
MCU | Steve x Bucky | M | 23K | Shrunkyclunks
There’s banter both awkward and charming, sweet sweet crushing, and a whole cast of wonderful characters who care so much (even when it’s hard). I love the dynamics between everyone in paramedic!Bucky’s crew and the way they look out for each other.
Pets: no years of silence in the shadow of regret by Ginny_Potter / @hipsterdiva
MCU | Steve x Bucky | G | 9k | De-serumed Steve
I don’t usually have the strength for post-EG fic, but look at me now, I read three this summer! Here, Steve is irrevocably changed by everything he’s endured, and he suffers for it in the most perfectly Steve-ish way: very, very quietly. Such a satisfying balance of grief and hope as Bucky tries to bridge the distance Steve’s put between them (and his acquired pet, The Dog) in order to protect himself from the possibility of loss. 
Mythical creature AU: all this and heaven too by spinawren
Captive Prince | Laurent x Damen | M | 15k | Selkie AU
I may never get over how perfect a Lighthouse keeper / selkie AU is for these characters. There’s Laurent, whose sense of self-preservation is so integral to his sense of self that giving love feels like giving a part of himself away—because it means giving up your armor. And Damon: unwaveringly devoted, who knows that love isn’t taken, it’s a choice you both keep making. I want to live in the lush world of this fic forever. 
Oldest fic in the fandom: Genie In A Bottle bykupcake_goddess
Dead Boy Detectives | Cat King x Edwin | E | 2K | Missing Scene
Edwin was hot for that hot cat guy and they should have kissed about it. Fanfic is great.
Fake dating: The Constellation of Touch by what_alchemy
Daredevil | Matt x Foggy | E | 19k | Pretend Relationship
What’s juicier than fake dating your best friend? Fake dating your best friend while actually going through a messy (law partnership) divorce! Featuring: wonderful Nelson family dynamics, a singular bed, and the intimacy of getting to know the person you thought you knew best all over again. I’ve read a lot of gorgeous depictions of the way Matt experiences the world, but these might be some of my favorites. 
Author’s oldest fic: the wrote and the writ by stewyonmolly
MCU | Steve x Bucky | G | 10k | everybody lives, nobody gets serumed
You know when you read the first paragraph of a fic and go, “yes ha ha ha YES,” like a sicko, but what you’re really sick over is the author’s style? That’s how I feel about this fic. I would eat the dialogue if I could! While it includes one of my favorite soft premises (everyone home safe in post-war Brooklyn, the end), Bucky doesn’t come back unscathed. But Steve���and this is a wonderful, wonderful Steve–never dances around Bucky’s amputation and Bucky never coddles him back.
Parallel universe: Except it Abide in the Vine by spitandvinegar
MCU | Steve x Bucky x Sam | M | 27k | Multiverse Shenanigans 
If you’re afraid of the summary just know that there is a place for every Steve and every Steve in its place, which is with a Bucky (and/or a Sam)!!! And by golly are there a lot of Buckys to love in this one, including a scrappy 616!bucky with the most pockets and everyone’s favorite cannibal, Sweetpea. There are plenty of melty exchanges (and breathtaking art!) but my favorite multiverse moments are always when a WS!bucky gets to see a small Steve again. I could read it a million times and it would never be enough. 
Free space: When I Put Away Childish Things by hansbekhart
MCU | Steve x Bucky | M | 14k | Prewar
One of the most vivid and immersive prewar settings I’ve had the pleasure of reading, which is saying something, because I have read a [redacted] quantity of prewar stucky. The narrative structure is so powerful and effective, even if you already know what we’re building toward. The author also has my new favorite take on Bucky’s enlistment status, which felt nicely refreshing (and this is a 10 year old fic!) given the otherwise ubiquitous fanon.
Space AU: We'll meet again in Brooklyn by Gfawkes / @gfawkesphoenixchokingonashes
MCU | Steve x Bucky | E | 33k | Scifi AU
Amazing dystopian premise and world building featuring the bravest small nurse Steve and a devoted and self-sacrificing soldier Bucky. They’re both so loyal to each other but also to their separate friends and teammates.
Werewolf AU: you touch me within and so i (know i could be human once again) by notcaycepollard
MCU | Sam x Bucky | E | 12k | werewolf!bucky
In this canon-adjacent-verse, Bucky is freed from Hydra’s clutches, but they turned him into a (very soft and sweet) werewolf who just needs to be cuddled and petted and maybe bossed around a little bit. Sam is understandably beside himself…and also up to the task. 
Vampire AU: the blood is the life by obsessivereader
MCU | Steve x Bucky | M | 3K | vampire!bucky
When Bucky keeps sneaking off to bite a lot of strange young men, Steve’s biggest concern is, “Why not me????” I love the trope that the super soldier healing factor makes them great vampire companions.
Short fic: give up on trying to save us by returnsandreturns
Daredevil | Matt x Foggy | E | <1000 | Hate Sex
They’re rival lawyers, they banter, they are not going to have sex with each other again except that oh no, yes they are! What’s not to love!?
Slow burn: Steve Rogers, PA by sparkagrace / @sparkagrace
MCU | Steve x Bucky | T | WIP | Hunkyclinks
Hopefully you all are reading this one already because it’s a freakin delight all around. The premise is incredible and very funny, but there is also action and wound tending and my favorite thing ever, which is Steve and Bucky always managing to know each other better than anyone.
Holiday fic: Teshuva by JHSC
MCU | Steve x Bucky | T | 6K | Recovering Bucky
I could not find it in me to read a holiday (lbr: Christmas) fic over the summer, but ‘tis the season for atonement, y’all! That’s right, Yom Kippur is upon us, and this was a really lovely read on Bucky coming to terms with his memories, his relationship to his mother, and what it means to seek forgiveness. 
Medieval AU: The Tale of the Silver-Armed Knight by BeaArthurPendragon
MCU | Steve x Bucky | E | 5K | medieval AU
I had never come across a medieval fic in my journeys before, so this was a fun scavenger hunt. I managed to stumble my way into some sexy, sexy treasure by way of smithy!Steve measuring knight!Bucky for a special suit of armor. Amazing historical detail including—and I am very serious—D/S dynamics that felt so period appropriate. 
Video edit: Evidence by @bromcommie / vivelarevolution
MCU | Bucky Barnes
Why are you reading this rec list (or whatever this is) when you could be watching and reblogging this fucking edit! Are you watching it yet? Are you??? OP’s perfectly matched dialogue, parallels, and transitions will destroy you and you WILL thank them for it. (Thank you, Max.) The build up from the quiet of Bucky’s therapy session to the blurred violence between Bucky, the Soldier, and everyone he’s been in between is beautifully gutting.
Inspired by another fanwork: [Podfic] If They Haven't Learned Your Name by quietnight
MCU | Steve x Bucky | M | Post-CATWS
I’m far from the first to praise quietnight’s incredible voicework and podfic production, but holy heck, I’ll do it anyway. I have a hard time getting into audiobooks, and have never had a problem feeling fully immersed in their works. Silentwalrus’s story deserves all the praise it gets, too. A lovely balance of humor and heart, action and character work. 
Fluff: Invisible Ink by ctimene
Daredevil | Matt x Foggy | E | 16K | Tattoo Parlor AU
Hard to write a rec that isn’t just keysmashing and squealing sounds but OKAY FINE I’ll try. This ‘verse manages to parallel canon in ways that are both delightful and heart twisting, with all of Foggy’s heart, kindness, and snark translated to tattooing instead of lawyering. And they were still avocados! And also: sexy. Really, extremely sexy.
Time travel: Some legends are told by chaosmanor, rufferto
MCU | Steve x Bucky | E | 26K | Neolithic Wanderings 
In which Steve will go to any length to find Bucky, including 4 thousand years into the past (while wearing a very short tunic). I absolutely devoured this and was beside myself with delight over its uniqueness and all around nerdery—so many amazing and specific historical details.
Domestic: t'aimer sur les bords du lac by burning_brighter / @burnin-brighter
MCU | Steve x Bucky | M | 17k | Post-EG
Lovely and soft wish fulfillment: put those boys in a cabin until they can get the rest they deserve…and also talk about their feelings! I loved how careful they were with each other until they slowly found their footing again.
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nyzfiles · 2 days
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Hey! I just found your blog and have read the works you’ve put out so far(they’re really good!). Could I please request a fic with IVE’s Yujin?
Where her and reader have been dating for a while now but lately reader has been rejecting Yujins advances whenever she tried initiating sex with her which, of course, Yujin respected. But, when she was on social media and saw the comments under your posts she realized why. (Which was because of the hate you were receiving about your body). When Yujin found out she decided to gently bring it up with you which resulted in you breaking down. Alright, to get to the point Yujin shows how in love with your body and how perfect she thinks it is by making love to you and kissing every inch of your skin(especially your stomach). Thank you!(sorry, I couldn’t think of how to make my explanation shorter)
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a/n : hi anon! thank you so much for the request, i love this idea and body worshipping is top tier!
warnings - smut (minors and men dni!) sorta angst?
tags - soft dom!yujin x sub!fem reader, reader is very insecure, body worshipping, nipple stimulation, cunnilingus (reader receiving), fingering, yujin is just VERY in love with reader !!
word count - 1.3k
you and yujin have been dating for close to 8 months now. she's been the most attentive, loyal, and affectionate girlfriend you could ask for. in the beginning of your guys' relationship you had an amazing sex life, yujin is very much a giver and you get to benefit from that.
recently, you've been starting to reject her advances whenever she tries to be intimate with you and it's left her confused and quite honestly a bit hurt. of course she would never pressure you into anything but she can't help but wonder what's changed.
about two days ago she was scrolling through her instagram when she came across your most recent post and hearted it. out of curiosity she went to the comments and was heartbroken by what she saw. a bunch of people who claimed to be her fans were body-shaming you and leaving horrible comments.
she closed the app, deciding she would bring it up with you once she figured out how to do it gently. it all made sense now why you had stopped wanting to be intimate with her, she never imagined people would be making you feel so horrible about yourself.
now, she watches you sitting on the other end of the couch, a sad expression on your face as you scroll through your phone. "is everything alright?" she asks, concern evident in her voice. you just nod, giving her a small smile before looking back down at your phone. she sighs, placing her hand on your leg and caressing it gently. "baby...what's going on? things haven't been normal for months." she says, worry plaguing her mind.
you look back up at her, tears stinging your eyes as your lip quivers. "i've just been feeling really down about myself..." you whimper, your voice breaking as you try to confide in your girlfriend. she looks at you with sympathy, pulling you into her arms as you break down and start crying.
she kisses the top of your head, whispering softly to you as she strokes your hair. "baby, those people don't mean anything to us. i love you, and i love your body. you're so beautiful." she reassures you, tilting your chin up to place a soft kiss on your lips. "promise me you'll block anybody who makes you feel like this." she whispers against your hair, still holding you close.
you nod, starting to relax in her arms as your tears stop. "this is why you haven't wanted to have sex with me, isn't it?" she sighs softly, looking down at you. you nod, feeling a little embarrassed as you admit it to her. "i didn't want you to have to look at me and realize that all these people are right." you sniffle, wiping away the rest of your tears.
she shakes her head, cupping your face in her hands and kissing you again. "they're not right. you are beautiful, hot, sexy, stunning, and everything else in between. i am lucky to have you." she confesses, trying to show you how serious she is. you nod slowly, wrapping your arms around her. "let me show you how beautiful i think you are..." she mutters, hands cupping your ass as you sit in her lap.
you look up at her apprehensively, chewing on your lip before nodding your head. "okay..." you agree, giving yourself to her. she smiles, threading her fingers through your hair before kissing you slowly. she picks you up, hands gripping your thighs as she carries you into your guys' shared bedroom without breaking the kiss.
she gently lays you against the bed, hovering over you as her lips trail down your neck. "i can't believe how beautiful you are. how did i get so lucky?" she mumbles against your skin, hands moving to the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head. you blush, arms going to cover your stomach before she stops you. "don't. i want to see every inch of you tonight." she says, moving your hands and kissing the palms on each of them.
you watch as she undoes the clasp on your bra, throwing it on the floor beside the bed. she cups your tits, flicking her tongue over your hard nipple. you gasp softly, playing with her hair as she sucks, licks, and bites your nipples, switching between them. your moans spur her on and she kisses down to your stomach, her lips lingering there.
her mouth kisses every inch of your stomach, dampness pooling in your panties. "so fucking stunning." she whispers, gripping your waist as she kisses above the waistline of your panties. your eyes sting with tears as she worships your stomach, kissing every stretch mark and praising you.
she slowly peels your panties off, groaning softly when she sees your cunt glistening. "so pretty and wet for me." she smiles, fingers teasing your folds. you whine, your cunt clenching as her finger disregards the spot you need her the most. "please..." you mutter, heart pounding as you watch her. she leans in, placing your legs on her shoulders before running her tongue through your folds. you let out a long moan, hand tangling in her hair as she flicks her tongue over your sensitive clit.
she hums against you, the taste of you making her own arousal grow. she grips your thighs tighter, sucking on your clit and swirling her tongue around it. you throw your head back in pleasure, toes curling as your arousal leaks out of you. "feels so good..." you whimper, grinding your cunt against her tongue. she chuckles softly, slowly easing her tongue inside of your tight cunt.
you gasp, stomach tightening as she curls her tongue inside of you. your nails are practically digging into her scalp as she tongue fucks you and rubs her nose against your clit. the knot in your stomach gets tighter and you cry out her name as your thighs squeeze her head and your cum coats her tongue.
she swallows every last drop, pulling back and licking her lips as she looks at you. "tastes so sweet." she smiles, kissing her way up to your body until she reaches your lips. you laugh tiredly, wrapping your arms around her to bring her closer to you. "you're so pretty." she sighs happily, two fingers slowly rubbing your clit. you blush, bucking your hips slightly as she takes them and parts your folds.
she gently pushes her fingers inside you, making you moan and grip her biceps. her thumb rubs your clit while her fingers fuck you, her mouth leaving dark purple hickeys along your collarbone. "y...yujin..." you gasp, breath hitching as she curls her fingers against your g-spot. she smirks against the spot on your neck she was sucking on, thumb pressing harder against your clit.
you start to ride her fingers, eagerly chasing your second orgasm of the night while she leaves love bites all over your neck, collarbone, and tits. your nails dig into her biceps as she pumps her fingers deeper and moves her thumb faster, making your eyes roll back. the familiar feeling of your stomach tightening washes over you and your legs shake as your orgasm washes over you.
she slowly fucks you through your high, slipping her fingers out and licking them clean. she lays down on the bed beside you, pulling you into her arms as she kisses you sweetly. "i love you so much, you know that?" she smiles, forehead resting against yours. you nod, snuggling yourself closer to her. "i love you too." you mutter, letting her hold you as you drift off to sleep.
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tozettastone · 1 day
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Hm, let me reword; are there characters from the series you love to write but have a comparatively different level of interest in how they're actually portrayed in the source material? I.e. the akatuski who were both introduced and killed early tend to be more of an echo of a character than something that reads as a person
Oh yeah, I see! Thank you for rephrasing this. Okay.
Well, characters like Kakuzu and Hidan (and actually a lot of the cast) are very flat¹ characters in canon. They are also very often flat characters in fanfiction, even when they are major characters — Kakuzu is the money guy, Hidan is the religion weirdo (often referred to as "the miser" and "the zealot," haha) and rarely is this expanded upon.
I write a bit about characters who are like this, and one of the things I like about it is the process of extrapolating a rounder character from the few characteristics of a one-dimensional villain, without just losing all of their villainy. They should still be bad guys. I like to write bad guys.
But, it's also hard for a character to be only a terrible horrible villain when you think a bit more about what they're like in their interpersonal relationships, what they care about, what their preferences are, and just... in regular situations. That's why my Kakuzu and Hidan tags on this blog (...and my kakuhida and hidakaku tags, too, which are interchangeable but somehow never consistent) are full of random comments about this kind of characterisation exercise.
I usually do this extrapolation by looking at characters' attitudes and behaviours in canon, inferring their motives, and then thinking about how those motives might be expanded on so they can be expressed in the broader setting! I have mixed success — sometimes people don't like my characterisation and, much more importantly, sometimes I look back on my characterisation and don't like it either (as one of my recent Deidara posts attests 💀).
In that vein, sometimes I do make villain characters like these seem a lot nicer than they are in canon, just by virtue of writing scenes where they, like, have to have a normal conversation...? But if you're trying to take a flat canon character and reverse engineer it into a rounder one, you have to kinda accept that they will be less, like, unalloyed one-note violence and evil, I guess. Like, at some point they are just going to have to eat lunch without having a little massacre first.
So... That's the comments I have about that process.
I think there are a lot of characters like this in Naruto because a lot of the broad cast can have pretty flat characters. I feel this way about everyone from Orochimaru to Tobirama to Hidan, hahaha. So I wouldn't necessarily single anyone out. I guess the least flat characters I write about would include characters like Sakura, who exhibit a more complex mix of personality traits, motives, desires, preferences, feelings, etc., in canon.
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One footnote:
1. A quick comment on flatness vs roundness, for anyone who hasn't heard those terms used like this before. Characters, settings, "plot" events, and so on, are all elements of a story. A character is the element that delivers the impression of a "person" to the reader/viewer. They are usually successful to a greater or lesser degree.
One way of thinking about characters is that they can fall on a spectrum between "flat" and "round." When one calls a character "flat," it means that they don't have the depth of personality that makes them very good at being a "person." They are usually one-note and simple. "Round," characters, by contrast, are usually a bit deeper. They usually have complex motives and desires and give a more complete impression of personhood to the audience.
This doesn't mean flat characters are bad characters, it just means that they serve a purpose that doesn't require lingering over the complex mix of characteristics that depicting personhood might otherwise require.
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hollyethecurious · 2 days
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CS AU: Once Upon A Grimm (2/?)
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Summary: The world was far more complex than most people realized. Humans went about their lives, completely ignorant of the fact that there was a world of fairytales existing right alongside them. Well, not really fairytales. Not in the Disney sense, anyway. Many, like the Grimm brothers, had woven the truth into their stories, but the creatures they wrote about were even more nightmarish than their macabre and monstrous depictions. Creatures known as wesen. Supernatural, other-worldly beings who have always lived among humans and have always been hunted by those who had come to be known as Grimms. A struggle of secrecy, balance, and power among these species has existed since the beginning of time. This is a story of a man with his own struggle. The internal struggle of being a human, a wesen, and a Grimm, and the external forces that seek to eradicate one or all of his natures, especially those he tries to keep hidden. Fortunately, Killian Jones is not alone in his struggles nor his secrets. His personal savior, Emma Swan, has secrets and struggles of her own.
A/N: This fic is inspired by and will borrow from the NBC show Grimm. I confess I did not watch Grimm when it first aired, but absolutely fell in love with the show during a binge fest years later. If you have not seen the show, no worries! My beta - who has not seen the show either - assures me that it is not necessary. If you have seen the show, then I hope you’ll forgive the huge creative license I am taking with the material. This is not a strict Grimm retelling with Once characters. This is my own spin on the lore and cannon of both shows.
Sorry I am so late with this update. I underestimated how demanding real life was gonna be now that we are back in full swing with school. I'll do my best to stay on track going forward!
I cannot express how much I have enjoyed being a part of the @cssns all these years. Thank you to the mods who have kept it going year after year. We've had a terrific run! Huge shout out to @kmomof4 for always being my cheerleader and for her exceptional beta skills. A HUGE thank you and many fangirl squeals to my artist @eastwesthomeisbest for the amazing job she did on the cover art that accompanies this fic. Please go show her some love!
FYI: Because the show took cues from the Grimm brothers’ works, much of the vocabulary associated with the supernatural creatures was based on German or German coded language. For words like wesen and woge (which will be explained in the text) the w is pronounced with a v sound on the show. I’ll be using terminology from the show and more common creature names interchangeably within the fic.
Rated E (eventually) / Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!  / Prologue
Chapter One
Two and Half Years Later…
“What have we got?”
Killian approached the scene with his partner, Robin. Their mate and uniformed officer, Will, brought them up to speed, keeping his voice low as the men conversed on the walkway that led to the grand house towering before them.
“Grace Hatter. Eight years old. Never made it to school this morning,” Will informed them, reading over his notes. “Father says she left the house at a quarter to eight like usual. An hour later he got the call from the school telling him she was absent.”
“Do we know if he’s clean?” Killian asked, assessing the distraught man who was being questioned by other officers.
“No,” Will replied. “Dad’s name is Jefferson Hatter. We're looking into him.”
“Mom?”
“Deceased.”
“Okay. Thanks, mate. We’ll go have a talk with him.”
Killian and Robin continued up the walkway. When the father caught sight of them, he rushed down the front steps to meet them halfway.
“Are you the detectives?”
“Yes, sir,” Robin responded. “Detectives Locksley and Jones. Can you tell us more about your daughter? When you last her? What she was wearing?”
“Yeah, um…” The man took a moment to try and compose himself. His hand shook as he brought it up to run down his face. A shuddering breath filled his lungs and a sob caught in the back of his throat. “She uh, she left here about 7:45. She’s wearing purple leggings and an oversized, purple top that has a white rabbit on the front of it. She also had on a red hoodie and her backpack is pink and purple with her name on it.”
“Does she often walk by herself to school?”
The man, Jefferson, nodded, tears welling in his eyes. “Ever since the beginning of the school year. She wanted… She wanted to be a big girl this year.” He took out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the freshly fallen tears drops from his face. “I was reluctant, but the school isn’t far and normally she walks with another little girl and her brother down the block.”
“But not today?” Killian inquired.
“No,” Jefferson answered. “Ava and her brother are both out sick this week. Grace walked alone yesterday, so I didn’t see an issue with her walking alone again today.” His face reddened, the tears now cascading down his cheeks as he pleaded, “Please. You have to find my little girl, please!”
“We’re going to do everything we can,” Robin promised him, digging a card from his pocket. “An officer is going to stay with you as we canvas the neighborhood, but if you think of anything else, give us a call.”
“Th-Thank you, detectives,” Jefferson said, taking the card then following one of the officers back to the house.
“So, what do you think?” Robin said under his breath as they turned back towards the street and surveyed their surroundings.
“If he’s involved then he’s an excellent actor,” Killian replied. “I think it more likely she was grabbed on her way to school. The question is… where?”
The street was lined with houses on one side, facing a wooded park area. The little girl would have made her way to the end of the block then turned to go around the woods. The school was located on the other side, about seven blocks away.
“We’ve spoken with all the neighbors who are home along the route she would have taken,” Will said, joining the detectives. “No one saw anything.”
“Maybe she didn’t take the usual route,” Killian said, jutting his chin towards the woods. “Maybe she took a shortcut.”
“Dad was very specific about the route,” Will told him. “He said Grace wasn’t allowed to cut through the woods.”
“Yeah, and we all know you did everything you were told when you were a kid,” Robin quipped, slapping Will on the back before heading towards the woods.
The three of them followed the worn path, carved out of the foliage by those who had used the woods as a shortcut over the years. Although focused on the task before him, Killian could not help but acknowledge how fortunate he was to do this job with his two best mates at his side.
It had been a series of unfortunate events that had led them here. Two and half years ago, he and Robin had been uniformed officers at different precincts and Will, after washing out of the academy years before, owned a local bar. After being attacked and having his life, once again, turned upside down, Killian had spiraled a bit. Neglectful of his duty and spending too much time at Will’s bar had made him a less than stellar candidate for detective, despite his high scores on the exam. However, everything changed once more the night Will’s bar went up in flames.
Though it had been deemed arson, they still weren’t sure how it had happened. The explosion and fire claimed the lives of more than a dozen officers and detectives from both Storybrooke and Glowerhaven. In the aftermath, personnel had been reshuffled, reassigned, and reevaluated, giving Killian a second chance at a detective slot and transferring Robin to the Storybrooke precinct. Will, determined to bring the perpetrator to justice, had reapplied to the academy and finished top of his class before being assigned to the Storybrooke PD.
Although the arson case had gone cold, Killian and Robin, with an assist from their favorite uniformed patrolman, had managed to garner the highest number of closed cases of any rookie or veteran detectives within the city or its outlying suburbs. Robin often joked that the reason the three of them were so good at this job was because in another life they would have been criminals themselves - and therefore knew how their perps thought - dubbing themselves the pirate, the bandit, and the thief.
Of course, he had no idea that Killian possessed abilities beyond those of a normal human detective which gave him an advantage. Abilities he was currently applying in the hopes of bringing this little girl home safely.
When the trail forked, the trio branched off in separate directions. Once out of sight from his mates, Killian crouched down and closed his eyes, homing in on the sounds around him as he inhaled deeply. Over the years he’d made peace with his wolf side. It wasn’t always easy to keep the wesen reined in, or explain away how he’d been able to accomplish some of the things his supernatural abilities allowed him to do, but as time went on he found ways to balance his human and wesen side.
Not able to pick up anything out of the ordinary, Killian resumed his search further up the path. A moment later, Robin’s voice called out.
“I’ve got something!”
Killian rushed towards Robin’s voice, arriving alongside an out of breath Will. Both men were too focused on the pink and purple backpack laying among the ferns to notice Killian’s lack of exertion.
“Grace Hatter.” Will read the name where it had been monogrammed in bright pink, confirming it belonged to their missing girl. “She must have been grabbed somewhere in this area.”
“Careful where you step,” Killian reminded them. “Will, call it in and inform the others that we have a crime scene in Wonderland Woods Park across from the victim’s house.”
Will stepped away to radio it in, leaving the detectives to peruse the area.
“Killian, we got boot prints here. They look fresh.”
Killian noted the direction of the prints and commented, “He took her this way.” Setting off down the path, he shouted over his shoulder, “Stay with Will until CSU arrives. I’ll see where the prints lead.”
Once out of sight, Killian crouched down again and took in a deep breath. The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention and a primal growl rumbled in the center of his chest. He could tell the scent was wesen, although he wasn’t sure what species. There was something vaguely familiar about it, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on why.
Never before, since his transition, had he ever wished for the moon to be in its full cycle. If it were, then his sense of smell would be stronger. He’d be able to discern the little girl’s scent better, as well as her abductor’s, and he’d be able to tell which direction the two had gone once they’d reached the road on the other side of the woods.
Cursing under his breath, Killian made his way back to Robin and Will. The Crime Scene Unit had already arrived and the area was being cordoned off so they could work making casts of the boot prints. Killian eyed Grace’s backpack as it was being bagged and tagged so it could be processed for fingerprints. He wished he’d gotten a chance to scent it, but the K-9 unit was already seeing to the task.
“There isn’t much more we can do here,” Robin told him. “Will and the other officers will follow up on the neighbors they didn’t get a chance to speak with earlier. Maybe one of their security cameras will have caught them coming out of the park.”
“Aye,” Killian said with a resigned sigh.
Clapping Killian on the back, Robin suggested, “Let’s go get some lunch. By the time we’re done, more evidence will have been collected and processed, then we can focus on whatever they found.”
“I suppose I could eat,” Killian relented. Robin was right. There was nothing more they could do that the other officers didn’t already have handled. They’d need their strength and their wits about them for the long afternoon and evening ahead. “Where did you have in mind?”
“How about Aesop’s?”
Killian cocked a brow his partner’s way. “Aesop’s? A bit swanky for lunch isn’t it?”
Robin shrugged. “I hear they have a great burger menu.”
“Mhmm,” Killian hummed. Something in Robin’s demeanor had him dubious as to whether that was the real reason. “I suppose we could check it out,” he replied with a shrug of his own, followed by a wolfish grin. “So long as you’re buying.”
~/~
“So that’s the real reason you wanted to come here,” Killian ribbed in a sing-song tone. “The lovely and elusive Miss Mills.”
Robin’s cheeks flamed pink behind the bun of his burger as he took as long as he possibly could to bite off then chew a mouthful.
“You know this constitutes stalking, right? Why not just ask her out?”
Robin swallowed and chased the bite with a sip of water, once again taking his time running his napkin over his mouth before placing it back in his lap.
“You’re hopeless,” Killian exasperated, getting up from his seat. He shot a wink over his shoulder to his mortified partner as he approached the nearby table, teeming with lawyers in their power suits. “Miss Mills?” he said in a feigned tone of surprise.
“Detective Jones,” she said in a friendly yet reserved greeting. “Funny running into you here?”
“Aye,” he said. “The lunch burger menu was recommended to Robin and me, so we thought we’d give it a go.” He gestured back towards the table Robin was metaphorically trying to hide beneath. Miss Mills - Regina - gave him a wave which he awkwardly reciprocated. “I won’t keep you,” Killian continued. “I was on my way to the facilities when I spotted you and just wanted to say hello. Enjoy your lunch.”
“Thank you, detective. A pleasure seeing you,” she replied, though her attention was not set on him but rather still subtly fixated on his partner.
When Killian exited the lavatory hall on his way back to the table, he slowed his steps and his lips twitched up in a smile. Robin and Regina were standing at the table conversing as the prosecutor’s colleagues were filing past, on their way out the door. Regina slipped Robin her card, her painted lip caught between her teeth, and he accepted it with a full, bright smile. Killian chuckled to himself, eager to take the mickey out of his friend, when something in Regina’s countenance shifted.
She’d turned towards the door, prepared to follow her colleagues, when her entire body went rigid. Something rippled through her expression and Killian was taken aback by what he saw.
She woged.
Regina Mills was… a hexenbeist?
No. He had to be seeing things. She couldn’t have woged. If she had, the entire restaurant would be in an uproar, especially Robin. There’s no way anyone would have missed the gruesome sight of a hexenbeist revealing her true form. Unless…
No. That wasn’t a possibility either. The full moon wasn’t in cycle yet, so there was no way he could have witnessed a demi-woge. Could he?
Regina’s features returned to normal, but her posture was still stiff and on guard. He followed her eyes to try and determine what had prompted such a response and was stunned to see another woged hexenbeist casually standing by the hostess stand. She had flaming red hair and was dressed in a tight, green dress. When her human face presented itself once more, she wore a smug, slightly challenging smirk.
Finally collecting herself, Regina marched past the woman without a word or backward glance, but the red-haired witch watched her all the way out the door and down the block.
“Did you see that?”
Robin’s question shook Killian from his shock, but a fresh, confused panic spiked within him. “See what?”
“The text,” Robin said, lifting his phone for Killian to see. “We’ve got a body.”
“A body?” Killian parroted, attempting to get his racing heart under control while processing what his partner said.
He didn’t see it, then. Didn’t see them change. Then why did I?
“Not Grace Hatter?” Killian’s heart dropped a little as his mind finally caught up.
“No,” Robin assured him. “Not the missing girl, but the captain wants us to take point on this one, too.” He beckoned Killian to follow him through the tables towards the exit. “I’ve already settled the bill. Will’s waiting for us at the scene.”
Before heading out the door, Killian scanned the restaurant for the red-headed hexenbeist, but saw no sign of her. He tried to shake off the unnerving feeling her and Regina’s woge had elicited in him. The mystery of why he had been able to see it at all would have to wait. He had more pressing issues to concern himself with.
~/~
“Are you sure this is even a homicide?” Killian heard Will ask under his breath. “Looks more like an animal attack?”
For the second time that day, Killian’s hackles rose. The scene before him was familiar. Too familiar. He could remember, as though it were yesterday, making the same inquiry to the detectives working a similar scene. A scene that had led to Killian being attacked and transformed. A scene that had been declared an animal attack after the DNA had come back as inconclusive. A scene where no other evidence had been left behind except…
“We got a boot print!”
Killian’s entire body reacted in a ripple of goose bumps and a sharp inhale confirmed the truth as a familiar scent penetrated his sinuses.
It’s him! He’s back. The blutbad who attacked me. The blutbad who made me. He’s back and he’s killed again. He’s killed again and… HE’S TAKEN GRACE HATTER!
“Oi! Kill, er… detective. You alright?”
“You look as though you’ve seen a ghost, mate.”
Killian’s Apple apple bobbed painfully. “We need to go see the Captain. Now.”
It was a quick ride back to the precinct, though Killian’s silent stewing had probably made it feel longer to his partner. Robin knew him well enough to not pepper him with questions when he was like this, allowing him space to get his thoughts together. It didn’t mean his mate didn’t side-eye him with furtive glances the entire way back to the station, though.
“Captain Gold, do you have a minute?” Killian asked at the open doorway of their captain’s office.
“For my two best detectives? Of course,” Captain Gold said, gesturing them forward. “How’s the investigation going into the missing girl? Or is this about the body we found? A jogger who was a student at the local university?”
“Actually,” Killian hedged, still unsure how he was going to convince his captain and his partner of what he knew to be fact. “It may be about both.”
“Go on.”
Killian and Robin took a seat in front of the captain’s desk. Leaning forward, Killian began to fill them in on what he’d pieced together.
“A little over two years ago, there was a hiker who was attacked in a similar fashion to how we found the jogger today.”
“I remember,” Gold said, nodding his head. “That was ruled an animal attack, wasn’t it?”
“Aye,” Killian said. “The DNA was inconclusive, but that wasn’t the only evidence left at the scene.” Flicking his eyes towards Robin, he said, “There was a boot print. Just like the one at the scene today. And that’s not all…” Sitting back, Killian wiped his hand down his face and let go a heavy breath. “The same day the hiker was attacked and killed, a little girl went missing in Glowerhaven.” Robin’s eyes widened and Killian knew he didn’t need reminding, but the Captain still needed to know. “I know because Robin helped work that case and we were mates back then.” Setting his attention back on his captain, Killian continued. “Look. I’m not saying all these cases are connected, but we did find boot prints where we suspect Grace Hatter was abducted, and it all feels a little suspect to just be coincidence.”
Captain Gold tented his fingers in front of him, and his eyes narrowed at Killian. “I’m inclined to agree,” he said, after a few agonizing seconds. “It’s all too coincidental to not look into.” His eyes shifted to Robin. “Locksley, reach out to Glowerhaven and see if you can get a copy of the missing girls file from two years ago. Check it for any similarities to the Grace Hatter case. Jones,” he continued, focusing his attention back on Killian. “Follow-up on the boot print. See if the one from the hiker’s scene matches the jogger’s, then compare it to the ones we found at the abduction site.” With a dismissing nod, he added, “Keep me informed.”
“Yes, Captain,” the two detectives replied on their way out of Gold’s office.
“How did you put all of that together?” Robin asked. “Remembering that girl from more than two years ago who went missing the same day a hiker was mauled? I don’t think I would have put that together.”
“I don’t know,” Killian deflected. “Something about that night just… stuck with me, I guess.”
“Well, good pick up,” Robin said, clapping him on the back. “I’m gonna call GPD, then head over to collect those files. Check in later?”
“Aye,” Killian told him. “Later.”
It took Killian less time to confirm the boot prints were a match at all three scenes than it did for Robin to make it back with the files. Although it proved the crimes may be connected, the boots that matched the prints were a very common brand. It would be nearly impossible to find their suspect that way. Frustrated, Killian shot off a text to Robin and Will, letting them know he was gonna go out for some air.
There had to be a way of finding this monster.
Not that he hadn’t already tried. He’d gone back to the scene of the hiker’s mauling time and time again in search of any clues, hoping to discover the identity of the killer and the wesen who had turned him. Once the case had been cleared from homicide, investigators believing a wolf or mountain lion had caused the grizzly death, there had been little Killian could do inside the law. He’d been too preoccupied with the changes he was facing as a newly made wesen to pursue the blutbad on his own, and too worried about what his brother’s reaction might have been if he’d turned the case over to a Grimm. A Grimm who might have been able to detect such changes in his little brother.
Now, he couldn’t help but feel as though the jogger’s death and the missing girl were his fault. He should have told Liam about the rogue blutbad or gone after it himself.
He wouldn’t make the same mistake this time.
Digging his phone from his pocket, Killian dialed his brother’s number and held his breath as the call rang.
This is Liam Jones. I’m not available to take your call. Leave me a message.
“Liam. It’s Killian. Call me back. I’ve got a situation here that might require your expertise.”
Typical.
Killian’s phone vibrated in his hand. He glanced at the screen, expecting it to be Liam returning the call. Instead, the caller ID displayed Will’s name. Killian knew he’d been pouring over videos collected from neighborhood cameras, and he was eager to hear if he’d found anything that might help them locate the missing girl.
“Will? What you got?”
“Not much,” Will confessed over the phone. “I’ve checked all the cameras we collected from Tweedle Drive, the street the perp would have exited the woods from, and there’s nothing out of the ordinary.”
“Nothing?” Killian asked, defeated. “From the whole street?”
“Well, there’s a bit we don’t have footage of, but none of the videos show any car, truck, or van he may have used to move the girl. The only vehicle on the street at that time was the mail truck.”
“The mail truck?” Killian repeated, an idea coming to him. “Do me a favor. Find out who was working that route today and whether the postal service issues a certain type of boot for their employees' uniforms.”
“You think it was the postman?”
“It’s the only lead we’ve got,” he told Will. “If nothing else, the postal worker may have seen something. We should track them down as a potential witness.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
“Text me the name when you’ve got it.”
“Will do.”
A renewed rush of hope filled Killian as he made his way back to the precinct, but it was hindered by a fresh realization.
If the postal worker did turn out to be their suspect, then he wouldn’t be going up against their usual perp. He’d be going up against a wesen. A blutbad. And not just any blutbad… his sire. The one who had turned him. Would he know? Even without the full moon bringing out his wesen characteristics, would his sire be able to tell what he was?
Killian stopped short of the station door and did an about face. He needed to better prepare himself for this confrontation, and there was only one person who would be able to help him do so.
Searching his contacts as he made his way to his vehicle, he prayed this call would not go to voicemail.
His prayer was answered.
“Hello?”
“Swan. It’s me. I need your help.”
~/~
The fingers of her left hand drummed against the counter as the nails on her right were being assaulted by her teeth. Normally, Emma Swan would not allow a situation to unnerve her this way. Of course, it wasn’t the situation, not really, it was the man involved in the situation. The man who only came in once a month to pick up his wolfsbane tonic and share polite pleasantries with her or her brother, who assisted her at the shop. The man who had agreed to keep things between them strictly professional after the one time thing incident that had occurred early on in their association. The man who had kept to that promise… until now.
He wasn’t coming here for his tonic - the full moon was still over a week away. He wasn’t coming here for tea, or spices, or herbal remedies, or anything within the purview of her business. No. He was coming here because he needed help on a case. He was coming here because he had nowhere else to turn. He was coming here because he needed… her.
Although they had managed to keep one another at arm’s length these past two years, it hadn’t been that way at first. The month following his attack and introduction into the wesen world, they had texted and chatted numerous times, having built a rapport by the time of the next full moon.
A rapport that simmered with attraction and temptation.
Fortunately, they had both understood the seriousness underlying his stay with her during that first full moon. Setting aside the obvious chemistry between them, they focused instead on the alchemy of finding the right balance of wolfsbane. Everything had gone as expected… until it hadn’t.
“Emma, sweetie,” Granny said in her admonishing tone. “Are you trying to drive us both mad with your fidgeting?”
“Sorry, Granny,” Emma mumbled, removing her nail from her teeth and flattening both hands on the counter.
The elderly woman’s soft, weathered hand covered hers and she gave it a light, comforting squeeze. “What’s got you all riled up? You said he was a regular customer.” Her eyes narrowed and her head tilted to the side. “Is it because he’s a lycanthrope?” Patting Emma’s hand she assured, “I may not look it, but I can still hold my own. If he gets unruly, then--”
“No, it’s not like that,” Emma said, cutting the woman off in a rush, not wishing her to get the wrong impression. “Detective Jones is much more disciplined than lycanthropes are believed to be. He’s… he’s a good man.”
“Then why on earth are you worked up in such a state?” Granny inquired. “I can practically smell the anxiety and tension wafting off of you.”
Emma chewed her bottom lip, then silently cursed herself. Get a grip, Emma. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she straightened her posture and schooled her features. “It’s nothing.”
Granny let out a dubious hum. “Try again,” she said. “If you want me to help a lycanthrope - and a detective to boot - that has you all tied up in knots then you’re gonna have to give me a reason.”
Emma released a heavy sigh. She knew Granny was right. The woman was going out on a limb for her, the least she could do was give her the truth.
Given that she expected the detective to arrive at any moment, Emma quickly told Granny about her and Killian’s first meeting, and the subsequent month that had followed.
“Sounds like the two of you became fast friends,” Granny remarked, though Emma thought she could detect something slightly off in the woman’s tone. “What happened?”
Glancing at the door, Emma wasn’t sure if she was irritated or relieved that he hadn’t arrived yet. She’d never told anyone what had happened.
“He came to stay with me for the full moon, as planned,” she began.
“Here?” Granny asked, knowing the proprietor lived above her shop.
“Yes,” Emma confirmed. “In my spare room. I wanted us to be close to the workshop so I could make adjustments on the fly.”
“What do you mean?”
Swallowing, Emma told Granny about the experiments they did, testing the effectiveness of the wolfsbane. “Things like, provoking his temper and trying to elicit responses that were more primal,” she hedged, with half a shrug of her shoulder, “to see how well he could keep control under such stimuli.”
“And?” Granny prompted. “How did he do?”
“He did great,” Emma said, then winced slightly as she added, “Until August showed up.”
A knowing huff left Granny. “Yeah. I’d imagine the presence of another male might have set him off a bit. Did your brother come away unscathed?”
“Barely,” Emma replied. “Killian didn’t know who August was and when he saw him hugging me he… woged.”
“As in… fully?”
“Yeah.”
“That must have been intense for all of you.”
“It was,” Emma sighed. “I had to use magic to diffuse the situation, but once cooler heads prevailed and I was able to introduce the two of them, I thought things were resolved.”
“Until?”
Emma’s mind flashed back to the morning after he’d woged and tried to attack August. The morning after the final full moon.
“So… you made it through your first full moon.”
“Aye. Thanks to you, love.”
“No need to thank me,” she told him. “I should be thanking you.”
“For?”
“For not ripping out my idiot brother’s throat,” she said in a tone mixed with amusement and annoyance. “I told him not to come here this weekend, but does he listen?”
Killian hummed, a sultry, toe-curling sound, and sauntered forward. “Perhaps gratitude is in order then?” he murmured, tapping his lips suggestively with a raised brow and challenging smirk.
“Yeah,” she said, a little breathlessly. “That’s what the thank you was for.”
Another sinful sound echoed past his lips as he pressed further into her personal space. “Is that all your brother’s life is worth to you?”
“Please,” she scoffed with an eye roll, trying, and failing, to get her heart rate under control, knowing full well he could probably hear its erratic beat. “You couldn’t handle it.”
The corner of his lips lifted in a feral and taunting manner. “Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.”
The crack of the t against his tongue reverberated through her, and without thought she grabbed the lapels of his jacket, fusing her mouth to his. It took him the briefest of seconds to respond, inhaling deeply before thoroughly devouring her.
It was hot. It was primal. It was all-consuming.
“That was…”
It was a big fucking mistake.
“A one time thing,” she murmured, pulling back from his chasing lips. “We… we can’t do this. I… I can’t do this.”
Releasing him, she took several steps back, unable to meet his eye or look upon his confused expression.
“Swan,” he panted, both of them still working to catch their breath. “Have I… Have I done something? I know attacking your brother was bad form. Please don’t think I’m unaware of the seriousness of that--”
“No, it’s… it’s not that,” she said. “I know you didn’t really have control over--”
“Then what?” he asked. “What’s changed?”
Crossing her arms over her chest, Emma rocked back on her heels and said, “I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to… I mean… this is all new to you and the last thing we both need is to complicate an already complex situation. I think it would be best if we… kept things professional between us.”
She braced herself for his response, expecting him to be angry. Expecting him to accuse her of leading him on, or taking advantage of him while he was vulnerable. She hadn’t expected him to run a hand through his hair while letting go a heavy sigh before agreeing with her.
“Aye,” he said, softly. “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps now is not the best time to…” Flicking his too blue gaze up to hers, he gave her an earnest smile. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me, Swan. I think I’ll be able to manage on my own now, thanks to you.”
“You’ll still need the tonic each month,” she reminded him with a slight edge of panic in her voice. She didn’t mean for their association to end altogether. “And you can still call or text me if you have questions about--”
“Thank you,” he interjected, cutting her off before she could continue with her offer. “I’ll swing in for the tonic in a month’s time. I’ll be sure to let you know if there are any issues regarding the treatment.” Reaching up, he pawed at a patch of skin behind his ear. “I, uh… I should go. I have a shift in an hour.”
“Right,” she said, letting him pass so he could collect his things from where he’d set them by the door. “See you next month?”
“Aye, Swan,” he said over his shoulder as he exited the shop. “See you then.”
“Only… I didn’t see him then,” she told Granny. “I chickened out and left the order with August.”
“Are you telling me,” Granny chastised, “that you haven’t seen that young man since--”
“No!” Emma replied, indignantly. “Of course I’ve seen him. We just… it’s been…” Another heavy sigh expelled out of her lungs. “After our… shared moment, I did avoid him for a bit and I know he struggled to cope with his transition, which made me feel worse about how we left things, but then there was this fire at his friend’s bar, and he made detective, and I don’t know… something about him changed. Things were less weird when he came in and we managed to carve out this nice, albeit superficial, relationship and yet--”
“The feelings are still there?”
Emma laughed a rather hysterical sounding laugh. “Uh, no. No feelings. I mean, obviously I care about him, as a person, but my current demeanor has nothing to do with feelings.”
“Oh? What does it have to do with, then?”
Emma didn’t get a chance to answer the woman’s smug question. The bell over the door chimed and the two women's heads snapped in its direction. In walked Killian Jones, as handsome and alluring as ever.
“Swan,” he greeted with a reverential nod. “Thank you for seeing me.”
“Of course,” she managed to choke out, her mouth having gone dry. Clearing her throat, she gestured towards Granny and introduced, “This is, uh, Granny Lucas. She runs the new B&B and diner up the street. I thought she might be able to help. Granny, this is Detective Jones.”
“Please,” he said, taking Granny’s hand and offering it a polite shake. “Killian will do.”
“A pleasure to meet you, detective,” Granny said, obviously sizing him up. “You’re not at all what I expected.”
“Meaning?”
Her gaze still assessing him, Granny quipped, “Most lycanthropes have me wanting to rip out their throats within seconds of meeting them, but you… you’re different.”
Killian’s brows shot up and his eyes flicked to Emma even as he continued to address Granny. “It seems you have me at a disadvantage,” he said a little too calmly. “You know about me, yet I have no idea why Swan brought you in on--”
“Granny’s a blutbad,” Emma blurted out, causing his brows to raise even higher as his head snapped back to the elderly woman. “I thought, seeing as you said your case had something to do with a blutbad, and that you needed more information about them, that you’d like to have your questions answered by someone who--”
“Not just any blutbad,” he said, cutting her off in a tone laced with menace and anger. “The blutbad.”
Emma gasped. “The one who turned you?”
“Aye.” His gaze turned dark and his features hardened. “He’s back and he’s killed again. He’s even taken a little girl captive.”
“That’s terrible,” Emma said, keeping herself from reaching out to offer him a hand of comfort. “When did you--”
“Today,” he told her, catching both women up on the case of the little girl and the jogger and how he’d connected them to the cases from over two years ago.
“We found matching boot prints at the crime scenes, but I also detected his scent at each location. I knew there was something familiar about it, but didn’t put it together until I smelled it mixed with the jogger’s blood. It brought back the olfactory memory of that night,” he said, momentarily getting lost in thought until he shook his head and added, “Of course… I can’t enter that into evidence. Fortunately, we have a lead, but I am wary of confronting him without knowing more.”
“More?” Granny said, her countenance a bit stand-offish and very imposing. “Like what?”
“Like,” Killian hedged, wetting his lips and taking a moment to assess Granny as she had him. “Whether I’ll be able to know him by scent even if he isn’t woged. Typically, I can’t detect wesen by scent whilst they’re in their human form or see them demi-woge unless it's the full moon, so I can only assume he was in full woge when he abducted the girl and attacked the jogger.”
Granny remained stoic and stone-faced, still unsure whether she should trust the gemacht wesen in front of her.
“Look,” Killian said with a tone of authority Emma imagined he employed often in his line of work. “I know there’s a code among wesen. This desire to look after one's own kind. But this guy is a killer. He’s killed two people that we know of and may, even now, be holding a little girl captive, so please. Help me find him. Help me find her.”
The reminder of the little girl softened Granny’s features. “If he’s done what you say he has, then he’s putting us all at risk.” Quickly, she flicked her gaze to Emma then back to him, conceding, “You’re right. There is a code among wesen, but it only extends so far. It sounds to me like this blutbad has gone feral, and his behavior is only going to escalate the longer he’s allowed to run wild.”
“Then… you’ll help me?”
Her posture relaxed further and she stepped up to the counter, bringing her closer to both Killian and Emma. Nodding, she said, “Yes, I’ll help you.”
A relieved breath fell from Emma’s lips and she took Granny’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “Thank you, Granny.”
Granny patted her hand then straightened her shoulders, getting down to business. “Now, I’m no expert on lycanthropes, but unless he fully woges, I don’t think you’ll be able to tell whether your suspect is the blutbad you’re looking for. If he is feral, then it wouldn’t take too much to provoke a response, but you’d have to be ready. Once he woges… he’ll be out for blood.”
Emma saw a shudder pass over the detective and she wondered if he was remembering his own experience with an uncontrolled woge.
“What about the girl?” Killian asked. “What motive would he have for taking her?”
Granny pursed her lips together then hesitantly replied. “If he’s feral, and attacked someone before, then he’s likely gotten a taste for human blood.” Killian and Emma both grimaced, sickened by the notion. “I’d wager he attacked and fed on that jogger first. Probably lost control. He knows he’ll be good for another week until the urge takes hold again, but by then it’ll be the full moon and it’ll be risky for him to be out and about. He probably took the girl in preparation of making a meal of her later. Taking her now gives him time to fatten her up.”
Emma thought she might be sick, and while she could see the shared disgust in Killian’s face, she also saw rage.
Granny caught his eye and imparted, “Having her will make him even more territorial and dangerous. So you’ll need to be ready for anything.”
“Will he, uh…” Killian began, haltingly. “Will he be able to discern who I am? What I am?”
“No,” Granny said, shaking her head. “I only made that quip about lycanthropes because Emma had already told me what you are… and I wanted to see how you’d react. You ought to know by now that wesen can only sense you during the full moon.”
“Aye, but he isn’t just any wesen,” Killian countered. “He’s my maker. Are you sure that won’t have an effect?”
“I don’t see why it would.”
Killian’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, a reluctant question seemed to pause at the tip of his tongue.
“So there won’t be any… connection between us, then? No weird side effort of my turning that would make me sympathetic towards him or beholden in some way?”
Granny scoffed and cocked an amused brow at him. “Such sire bonds only exist in fiction.”
Killian’s head fell in relief and Emma could now detect how much tension he must have been carrying over that worry.
“Gemacht sometimes latch on to those who aid and guide them through their transition, and many times that is the wesen who turned them, so if you were to have bonded onto someone it would have been the person who was there for you at the beginning of and during your first change.”
Killian’s head snapped up, his eyes locking onto Emma’s. Her heart stuttered, then began pounding in her chest while her breath remained trapped in her lungs.
Granny’s gaze volleyed between the two of them, her heading tilting to one side as she quipped, “I suppose that explains the pent up tension I’ve been sensing between you two.” A warm smile lifted the corners of her mouth in response to their awkward reaction to the call out, and she assured them, “Don’t worry. The bond was temporary. I dare say enough time has passed that it would be gone altogether.” Her no nonsense demeanor returned as she focused her attention solely back on Killian and asked, “Anything else?”
Unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth, Killian cleared his throat and said, “Just one last thing… Do you know who this blutbad might be?”
“Afraid not,” Granny told him with obvious regret in not being able to provide him a name. “I only relocated to Storybrooke a few months ago, and I find it best to avoid my kind as much as possible.” Her eyes fell down to the counter and on a bit of a grumble she added, “Bad things happen when we get into a pack. Especially when we see red.”
Killian’s eyes went wide.
“What?” Emma asked. “What is it?”
Killian locked eyes with her once more. “The little girl. Grace. She was last seen wearing a red hoodie. And the jogger and hiker both had on red jackets when their remains were found.”
“So, red provokes him?” Emma said, shaking her head in confusion. “But you weren’t wearing red when he attacked you. You were in uniform.”
“Which,” Granny interjected, “along with your natural demeanor of dominance and authority, he would have seen as a threat.”
“Which means he’ll likely view me as a threat when I confront him.”
“Most likely,” Granny warned. She glanced at the clock on the wall, and Emma knew she needed to get going so she could get back to the diner before the evening rush. “My advice,” she said, rounding the counter on her way out. “When you do confront him, do it alone. You don’t want him to feel trapped or backed into a corner, and if things go badly…”
“Aye,” Killian agreed. “I don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”
Extending her hand, Granny offered him a sincere expression as he accepted the gesture. “Take care of yourself, Detective. I hope you can bring him to justice, but if not… bring him down any way you can.”
With that, she said a quick goodbye to Emma then exited the shop.
“Tough old bird,” Killian said in her wake, causing Emma to huff out an amused breath.
“Yeah. Granny is… something else.”
“Terrifying, I believe is the word you’re looking for,” he quipped with a light chuckle.
The two shared a laugh then stood awkwardly regarding one another for a long moment before Killian cleared his throat and said, “Um… thank you, Swan. I truly appreciate your help. I didn’t know who else to--”
“It was nothing,” Emma blurted out, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I mean… I was happy you called and that I could…”
Her words fell away and a wash of something akin to embarrassment or bashfulness swept over her. Her face was hot and her palms were starting to get slick.
You're being ridiculous, Emma. You’re not a silly school girl unsure of what to say to her crush. In fact… you don’t have a crush. This isn’t a crush. This is--
Killian’s phone chimed with a notification. Pulling it from his pocket, he checked the text and his grip tightened to the point that Emma feared he’d crack the screen.
“Killian? What is it?”
Slowly, Killian’s eyes lifted and met hers. The look that swirled in those blue depths made her breath hitch.
“We found him, Swan.” His voice was low, almost a growl, and it made the hair on the back of her neck stand in a way that caused her to shiver.
“Who is he?” she asked in a whisper, only vaguely aware that she was rounding the counter to move towards him.
His eyes never left hers and once she was standing before him, they flickered between her own as he answered. “His name is Quinn Adair. His address puts him outside of the city. Out in the woods.”
Emma swallowed hard as an eruption of worry filled her chest. “Are you… You’re not going to go after him now are you?”
“I have to, Swan,” he insisted. “He has Grace, remember? I have to get to her before he…”
Emma nodded, knowing that time was of the essence for that poor girl who was probably terrified out of her mind.
“Just… be careful?” she said, wetting her lips, which caused his gaze to drop down briefly. “And, um… Call me later so I know how it… so I know the girl is okay… and you.”
“Aye,” he said, pocketing his phone. “I will. I promise.”
She expected him to rush out after that, but he continued to stand there. Conflicted.
“Swan, I know this isn’t the time, but… what Granny said earlier. About us. About the bond that might have been created between us. Was that… Was that the reason you pulled away? Did you suspect?”
“Killian, I…” Emma didn’t know what to say. It would certainly be a plausible reason to give him. One that was safer than the truth.
It would be a lie, though.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said, waving off the question and sparing her from having to answer. “As Granny said, whatever was going on between us at the time, it’s likely run its course, so…”
“So?”
Stepping forward, Killian grabbed her hand and lightly held it in his. A rush of goosebumps swept up her arm when his thumb brushed over her knuckles.
“So… Maybe when this case is solved and things go back to relative normalcy, we could… try again?”
“Try again?” Emma parroted. A contradictory cocktail of hope, elation, dread, and panic collided within her as her good sense warred with her wants and desires.
“As friends, I mean,” he clarified, and in tamping down her own disappointment she missed the tone of it in his voice. “We had the start of something I was beginning to cherish and I miss…”
“Me, too,” she told him, turning her hand in his so she could give it a squeeze. Maybe it was reckless. She’d avoided close relationships all her life for a reason, and yet… “I’d love to start again. As friends.”
His smile took her breath away, but it was quickly schooled so he could focus on the dangerous task that lay before him.
“Do you want me to come with you?” she asked, filled with concern about him facing his maker alone. “I know Granny said not to make him feel trapped or backed into a corner, but I doubt he’d see me as a threat. And I doubt he’d be expecting a witch.”
His lip curled up on one side. “As much as I would love to see him go up against your magic, I won’t put you in harm's way like that.” When she opened her mouth to argue, he quickly added, “Besides. I need to try and do this by the book. I’m a cop before anything else.”
“I get that,” Emma relented, begrudgingly. “But I’m going to keep my phone close by in case you get in over your head and change your mind.”
“In over my head?” he said in feigned offense. “I’ll have you know, love,” he murmured in a low timber, edging a bit closer to her. “If there is one thing I’m good at… it’s surviving.”
“Mhmm,” Emma hummed, meeting his taunting expression of challenge with one of her own. “Well, I’m going to insist that you stop by afterward in order to prove that to me.”
He smiled down at her, another message alerting from his phone, indicating it was past time for him to go.
“As you wish.”
Chapter Two - Coming Soon!
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The Quicksilver Princess Chapter 6
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Series summary: A fantasy AU in which Dean is part of a long line of warriors who protect the kingdom. What happens when his rescue of the little princess with the quicksilver eyes gets him a possible future bride?
Series Warnings: Nothing major. Show typical violence. Fantasy violence. Smut. Angst. Fluff. Each chapter will have its own specific warnings. So, watch for those.
Chapter Warnings: None really. A bit of magical violence. A kiss. Some angst.
Pairings: Dean Winchester x OFC (Melissande)
Word Count: 7,907
A/N: First of all - I'm so sorry for the length of this chapter. There was a lot to get through. 😁🫣 Secondly, I'm so unbelievably happy that I FINALLY got to give this story an ending! I've loved writing it, but fantasy is tough! Lol! But I'm happy and proud of the story as a whole, so I sure hope you enjoy this final chapter. And to those of you who've read the story and encouraged me to continue, thank you so much for your patience.
I know OFC's aren't most people's favourites, but I encourage you to give the story a shot, and I hope you enjoy it. ❤️
Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists
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Melissande strained against the chains that held her immobile on the cold, stone table, even though she knew her struggles were pointless. She wasn’t nearly strong enough to break the iron binding her.
Layo’ita began to gather things from around the room, filling the pockets of the long black cloak she wore over her royal finery. She wore no elaborate headdress or hairstyle now, instead the wide hood of the cloak kept her face slightly in shadow. 
She gathered plants and herbs, potions, many colorful crystals, and a small silver dagger, preparing everything, and going about her evil plan while she spoke.
“You have no idea how patient I’ve had to be, how meticulous with every detail.” She looked back to where Yasa stood slumped weakly against the wall. Melissande was terrified by his increased pallor. He raised his head slightly to watch Layo’ita as she continued.
“It would have been much easier if you weren’t such a nosy, troublesome thing.” She said to Yasa, her tone annoyed. “I hadn’t planned on duplicating you until this one turned eighteen.” 
She waved dismissively towards Melissande. “But you just had to galavant off to your beloved Winchesters and try to outsmart me.”
Her smile was shadowed. “I took care of them without much trouble. But their meddling forced me to enact my plan much earlier than I’d wanted. It takes a lot of power and strength to hold on to a Duplicate, to make them seem natural and believable. I certainly wasn’t planning on having to keep it up for a dozen years!” 
She huffed out a breath, clearly feeling put upon. “The difficulty with a Duplicate is that they give a sense, after a while at least, that something isn’t quite right. The smell begins to cause doubt and there can be no contact because of their cold skin. So, on top of everything else I had to take care of, I had to work at changing your reputation, sending out whispers that your brush with assassination had made you afraid and nervous to be around people.” 
Sha laughed lightly. “No one seemed to miss the real you very much, or push to see you. Fooling people got easier as your reputation as kind of a recluse spread.”
She shook her head. “I’ve tried so often to fix the issues with the Duplicates, but I simply couldn’t manage it. It is very frustrating.” She claimed in an annoyed tone. “But it’s why I knew early on that I needed to make you to say goodbye to your visits with this brat and whore wife number four. If you’d kept visiting, they’d have known you too well and recognized the differences very quickly.”
Layo’ita pushed back her hood to reveal another ghoulish grin. “So, I convinced you that my heart was broken, made you believe I actually cared where you spent your nights or how many bastards you fathered.” 
She snickered and looked at Melissande. “It was surprisingly easy to convince him to walk away from you and Hera. Hardly more than a few tears.”
Yasa shook his head. “That’s not true.” He said weakly, looking at Melissande. “It’s not true, poppet. I was just trying to do the right thing.” His body sagged further down the wall. “I’m sorry.”
Melissande shook her head. “I know, Papa, I know. It’s alright, we’re together now; that’s all that matters.”
Layo’ita cackled. “Oh, yes, yes! Together again - but not for long.”
Yasa’s breathing was short and slightly labored, as though standing for so long had sapped him of what little strength he had. His voice was thin, but it held a note of steel as he spoke again.
“Layo, I don’t understand. Where does this hate for me come from? We were friends once, weren’t we? I always tried to afford you the respect and care you deserved. Is this simply because I couldn’t love you? The heart pays little attention to anything but its own tune, you must know that. I did everything I could to honor my duty to you and our son.”
Layo’ita scoffed as she began to chop up some of the plants, along with what looked to Melissande to be a human tongue, tossing them all into a large, gold bowl.
“I couldn’t have cared less whether you loved me or didn’t.” 
Melissande heard a flicker of something in the First Queen’s voice that told her that she did care, much more than she admitted.
“I don’t hate you." She continued. "In fact, I don’t care about you at all, except that you’re in my way. I’ve always known I was born for something great, that the old gods fashioned me for power. But instead, my whole life was simply about learning to be your wife, a mother to future kings who would rule. But never me.”
She stopped chopping and set down the knife, walking closer to Yasa. “I didn’t want you to honor me as the ‘First Queen’ and I never wanted to be your ‘True Wife’.”
Layo’ita shook her head. “My whole life I was taught to stand beside power.” Her voice dipped low. “But I knew I was born to wield it.”
She looked over to Melissande. “But it wasn’t until this bouncing baby brat came into the world that I finally realized just how to make that power mine.”
She went to the small fireplace set into the southern wall and tossed some more of the plants onto the flames. They gave off an acrid scent that made Melissande’s eyes water a little. The Queen stirred them into the low burning flames, watching the plants burn up.
“I didn’t know what she was right away, but I knew she’d be special. I’d heard the legends of course of other Coll family members and ancestors who’d had the quicksilver eyes, but she was the first one in a very long time. And I just knew something like that had to come from magic. So, I began digging into the history of the family.” She paused to look back at Yasa with a smile. “Your aunt would have been proud at how well I learned my lessons from her.”
She shrugged. “It didn’t take long for me to realize you were descended from fairies, and that’s when I knew how to rid myself of you, and take on the power of the crown all for myself.”
Yasa attempted a laugh that came out as a cough. “Come on Layo, you don’t actually believe that nonsense, do you? Do we look like fairies? It’s just an old, silly legend, made up by one of my ancestors, no doubt, to try and make the Coll family seem even more suited and destined for the throne.”
Layo’ita just shook her head with a mysterious smile. “You’re wrong, Yasa. You’ve always underestimated magic. You shouldn’t.”
Melissande heard her father’s words and the strangest feeling came over her; it was like something deep in her soul was shouting out a denial of what he was saying. It wasn’t a legend; it was real. She knew it like she knew how to breathe; it was instinctual, automatic. It was an odd feeling when just the day before she’d had almost the exact same reaction as her father when Rowena told her she was part fey. 
But there was something about being in this place, so completely submerged in magic, that made the reality of her lineage very apparent to her. Something inside was screaming at her to believe, to soak up the magic surrounding her and allow it to flow through her.
Layo’ita stabbed at the fire with a poker until the logs and plants burned together into embers, and then into ash which she scooped up into a smaller silver bowl. She brought it over to the table where Melissande lay, and from inside her pocket she withdrew the silver dagger. She chanted something and then sliced a small, but fairly deep cut in Melissande’s left arm, making her gasp at the sting.
The First Queen rested the silver bowl beneath her arm, collecting her blood as it leaked from her veins. She took the bowl away, allowing the blood to trail down Melissande’s arm and onto the table. Then using the dagger, she mixed the ash and blood together, continuing to chant as she spread the sticky paste that it made, over Melissande’s feet and across her forehead.
The chants turned into a slow, soft song, as Layo’ita began to arrange the plethora of crystals she carried, around the outline of Melissande’s body. When she was done, Melissande felt the crystals warming her up in the cold chamber, each brightly colored stone giving off ripples of heat.
Layo’ita picked up the silver dagger again and approached Yasa. “Duplicating you, keeping the kingdom from knowing the truth, has been exhausting for these last twelve years. Every day, I’ve worried that this would be the day someone figured it out. I simply can’t go on like this forever.”
She shrugged. “So, my answer is to soak up your essence to put into my Duplicate, so he looks real and right. No more traces of sulfur, no more cold skin. But still very much under my control." She smiled. "I've found my solution at last."
She sighed. “Unfortunately, the only way to collect your essence,” she raised the dagger, “is to cut it out of you.”
“No!” Melissande shouted.
Yasa’s pallid face looked defiant and proud as he stood to his full height, in spite of the way his legs shook with exhaustion. Layo’ita looked slightly amused at his pride and defiance.
“You forget yourself, Layo. Do you not recall that you gave me a son, an heir. You can strike me down, but one day he will come  to claim his crown and avenge me in the process.”
The Queen cackled again. “Oh my dear, I would be surprised if he even remembers you. I’ve been assured that he’s quite happy governing in The Lands Beyond and holding on to his own little piece of the world.”
She shrugged again. “But, if the babe I birthed tries to come and claim what I have taken, well, then he’ll meet your same fate.”
The First Queen lifted the dagger, aiming it at Yasa’s heart and Melissande saw it flash in the light of the dying fire as she screamed out her horror.
***
Four more Winchesters had joined Dean’s ranks before they set off from King’s Town, and as it turned out, sixteen experienced and well-trained Winchesters were more than capable of taking down the Guardsmen. 
At the witching hour, under the cover of night, the Winchesters blended into the darkness and silently approached the castle. They split into four groups of four, and each team was charged with securing one of the North, East, South, and West facing entrances. 
They’d agreed at the outset to do everything they could to not kill the guardsmen. Despite their extreme dislike of the order, and the grudge they held against the usurping guardsmen, they all begrudgingly agreed that the soldiers were just doing their duty in protecting the castle. So, they would do all they could to spare them.
But in the end, some of the guards fought bravely and gave the Winchesters a real challenge, but a great many of the guardsmen surrendered as soon as they saw the Winchesters fighting like the Warriors they were. 
Dean, Robert, Jody, and Ketch made up one team, going through the North-facing entrance. There were approximately thirty soldiers at that entrance, and only six of them put up a fight, battling hard. But the Warriors still won handily, with only a broken nose for Ketch and two broken fingers for Jody. 
After they’d been subdued, Dean grabbed one of the more cowardly looking guardsmen and demanded that he take him to Mellie.
“Now!” Dean shouted and the man trembled as he rushed to obey. Dean had to shake his head a little. How on earth had the kingdom stayed safe with these guardsmen as its protectors?
Jody and Ketch stayed to watch over the guards left behind, and to coordinate with the other Warriors to make sure everything was going smoothly in the other battles. Dean and Robert followed the guard down endless flights of stone steps until they came upon the dungeon in the bowels of the castle. 
They left the guard tied up at the entrance to the row of dungeon cells, and proceeded down to the last cell where the guard said Mellie was being held.
They slowed as they approached it, taking extra care with their surroundings, looking for booby traps, or something that would keep them from reaching her at the last minute. 
But nothing appeared to attack them, and they approached the cell. Dean wanted to let out a whoop of relief as he saw Mellie behind the bars, lying on the hard ground.
She’s alive. He thought with cascading relief. 
She was dirty and she shivered slightly in her sleep, but she was alive. Her brow puckered as though she was having bad dreams, but she was alive. Dean approached the bars as he sent Robert back to the guard. 
“Get the key.” He told the older man, who raced off to find it. Dean called softly through the bars.
“Mellie, sweetheart, wake up. Wake up, I’m gonna get you out of here.”
Mellie’s eyes flickered open, and confusion filled her expression for a moment as she sat up. But then she saw Dean and she gave a cry of surprise and happiness.
“Dean!” She jumped to her feet. “Oh Dean, you came! I knew you would.”
She approached the bars slowly, hesitatingly and Dean smiled at her warmly to let her know she was safe. As she drew nearer a slightly foul odor hit his nose, something like rotten eggs, and it made him want to take a step back. But he gave himself a mental shake.
Gods, man, he thought to himself, she’s been snatched up and thrown in a dungeon. What were you expecting her to smell like, roses?
He smiled at her again. “Robert’s gone to get the key, then we’ll get you out of here, somewhere safe, with a couple of Warriors to protect you and Robert and I will stay and demand to speak with your father, and try to find out what’s going on here.”
Mellie nodded. “Please be careful.”
Before he could respond, Robert was back with the key. Dean took it from him and pushed it into the rusted lock, unlocking the cell and pulling open the squeaking door. He rushed inside and ran up to Mellie, taking her upper arms in his hands, intending to pull her close. But when he touched her he was surprised.
“Mellie, you’re like ice.” He said with a frown, chafing her arms. “Robert, see if you can find a blanket somewhere.”
Robert nodded and set off. Dean took Mellie’s icy hand in his, intending to lead her out of the cell. But as her hand slipped into his, a sense of something dark slithered down his spine and suddenly his instincts were screaming at him, warning him. 
He turned to look down at the woman walking beside him, and he was somehow sure something was off. For one thing, Mellie was never this quiet. She should be asking him a thousand questions about how they got in and who was with him. She should be saying “I told you so.” because the Winchesters had listened to him as she’d said they would.
He dropped her hand and stepped back from her. She looked slightly confused and a little hurt. “Dean, what is it?”
Dean shook his head, more sure than ever. He jerked his chin towards her. “I have no idea what you are, sweetheart, but you sure as hell aren’t Mellie.”
Remembering suddenly, Dean reached into the pouch on his hip and pulled out one of Rowena’s magic-revealing bags, and it glowed bright purple. Grabbing a matchbox from the same pouch, he quickly lit a match and then set the bundle ablaze. 
In slight horror, Dean watched as “Mellie” went stone silent and unmoving before she went up in a literal puff of smoke. The air around him radiated the purple color as it thinned to a trail that led towards the back wall.
“Robert!” He called and the elder Warrior ran in, clearly confused by the still settling smoke and the purple air around them.
“It wasn’t her.” Dean said succinctly. “I don’t know what kind of illusion that was, but it was obviously meant to keep us from finding the real Mellie, and to keep us distracted until it’s too late.”
He pointed to the purple path in front of them and how it disappeared into the wall. “This is a protection bag from Rowena.”
Robert rolled his eyes. “You went to one witch to save you from another? What are the chances that she isn’t helping her?”
Dean shook his head. “No, trust me, we can trust her. On this at least. The bag glows purple in the presence of magic, and when it’s burned it reveals the magic that’s been used. This magic seems to be in the very air around us, and it seems to be leading us there.” He said, pointing.
“Into a wall.” Robert said, deadpan. 
Dean nodded. “I wonder what’s on the other side.”
Robert nodded. “Alright, how do we break through?”
It took them far longer than Dean wanted to find equipment to try to chip away at the stone. His stomach was once again in his throat as he realized the eclipse was approaching fast. 
But once they had pickaxes, they began pounding away at the stone and put a hole in the wall mercifully quickly. Once there was a small opening, the men tore at it with their bare hands, loosening rock and shoving it aside until there was a hole big enough for them to squeeze through. 
When they were on the other side they saw they were standing on a landing at the top of a very long staircase. The stairs went on for so long, and went so deep beneath the castle, that they couldn’t make out the bottom of the steps; it ended in sheer darkness. 
Though it was starting to fade, they still had the purple light in the air to follow, and it led them straight down the stairs. 
It seemed to take forever to reach the bottom, and eventually the purple light disappeared completely, forcing Dean to strike match after match in an attempt to keep them from pitching headfirst down the increasingly damp stairs. 
Finally, they reached the bottom, and followed a very pale light that was burning in the one and only cell. There was no one inside, and Dean wondered why the light still burned inside the cell.
Finally, he decided to burn the other bag, and see where the purple air would take them next. It had them continue down a very long corridor, until they finally reached a small, oval, wooden door. They were in the process of trying to find a way through, when Dean heard Mellie scream in terror and without hesitation, he smashed his body through the door.
***
It all happened so quickly; one moment the Queen was a breath away from murdering her father right in front of her, and the next moment there was a massive crash as the door splintered and Dean came charging through it. 
Instantly Melissande’s eyes were filled with tears. “Dean.” She whispered. 
Before she could do more than blink away the tears however, Dean and another man ran at Layo’ita, swords raised. With a blast of blue light from the center of her palms she threw the men back, spinning them through the air to land in a heap on the floor. 
Dean got to his hands and knees and took cover behind a shelf full of tiny vials of potion. The older man sought cover as well, but didn’t find it quick enough and Layo’ita blasted him again, sending him crashing into the wall this time and knocking him out cold.
The Queen slowly walked towards the shelf Dean was hiding behind, shaking her head. “Now, now, hunter, you failed spectacularly at the mission I sent you on. But if you’re very good, I’ll let you stay alive for the show. As the sun rises, the moon will usurp its place in the sky, and the world will go dark. Then I will make my mark upon this land, and then the next kingdom, and the next and next, until all the world is held in the palm of my hand.”
Dean’s voice was deeply sardonic as he spoke. “Wow, it seems to me, like maybe you need a new pastime. You know, something else to focus on besides the whole, world conquering insanity. Cause, I mean, let’s be honest. Who the hell are you to claim ownership of the entire living world?”
Melissande could hear the rage in the Queen’s voice as she shouted at him. “I am born of the old gods, crafted by them, my destiny set down by them, written into the turning pages of time, before the world began. I am chosen among all the-”
“Got it!” Dean interrupted her. “You’re the very bestest and the gods really, really like you. That’s great, but I suppose that means I’m gonna make those old guys pretty angry when I put my sword through your black heart.”
Melissande could see the way Layo’ita’s face contorted in fury. “How dare you? You know you don’t stand a chance against me, boy! You mock the old gods, but they’re at my back, they guide me and give me power.”
She walked to one side of the shelf, creeping slowly, hiding her approach, but as she swept around to the back, Dean charged out from the other side, swinging his sword in a downward arc, coming within a hair’s breadth of taking off the queen’s head. But she jumped back just in time, and fired a bolt of magical power at him, tossing him aside, into the wall beside her father.
He rose again quickly, but not fast enough. Chains snaked out of the wall to wrap around Dean’s chest and thighs, pinning him in place. When he was completely immobilized, the Queen waved her hand and another set of chains wrapped themselves around Robert where he lay, still unconscious.
She approached Dean, wearing a smug smile. She reached out towards him, and used magic to pry his hand open and let his sword clatter to the ground. 
Dean gave a frustrated growl through clenched teeth as the Queen reached him. She raised her hand up to run it down his cheek, and Dean turned his head, trying to jerk it away from her. But there was nowhere to move to.
Melissande watched his jaw flex tightly as Layo’ita ran her fingers from his cheek, down over his neck, and then across his broad chest.
The Queen sighed slightly. “You know, you certainly are a beautiful man. I might have to keep you. When the world is mine, I might need a pet, someone to keep me…entertained.” She moved her fingertips to his mouth and traced his bottom lip.
Dean turned cold eyes her way. “Yeah, good luck with that, sweetheart. Cause trust me, I bite.” He snapped his teeth at her fingers, and she just barely got them out of the way in time. She laughed, clearly exhilarated. 
She practically purred at him. “Yes, I must find a place for you in my bedroom.”
“Get away from him!” Melissande shouted at her. She felt sick seeing Dean chained up and at the mercy of this fiendish madwoman. She’d brought this on him.
Layo’ita turned laughing eyes her way. “Oh, little princess, does it bother you to see him with someone else? Did you imagine he was in love with you just because he married you.” 
When Melissande’s eyes grew wide, Layo’ita smirked. “Did you think I wasn’t aware of that pathetic attempt at trickery? But you won’t have to worry about that much longer. In fact,” she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, “soon you won’t have to worry about much of anything."
She looked up at the ceiling. “The sun is rising.”
There were no windows in the chamber, but somehow Melissande knew she was right; it was as if she could feel it on her skin. 
The Queen returned to Melissande’s side, pressing her hand to her forehead as though she was checking Melissande for a fever. But she chanted softly, effectively ignoring the woman beneath her hand as she continued the ritual she’d been planning for nineteen years.
When her chant ended, she seemed to be almost in a trance, and she wandered back towards Dean and Yasa. The King seemed so faint now he could barely hold his head up. Layo’ita bent to pick up the dagger she’d dropped when Dean smashed through the door, and tilted her head to look at Yasa, studying him.
But then she raised the dagger in her hand again, and again Melissande screamed out in terror. “Papa!” As her scream crescendoed, something happened that hadn’t happened the first time. 
One of the crystals on the stone table, the orange one beside her shoulder, cracked into shards and the pieces sailed across the room towards the Queen. The sharp splinters of rock sliced into her cheek and she screamed in pain and surprise. 
She whipped around to see Melissande’s shocked expression as she felt something churning inside her. Something that felt as though it rose up from the bottom of her soul and the very tips of her toes. Without conscious thought, two more crystals splintered and hurled themselves at Layo’ita, making the woman scream at Melissande in frustration.
“What do you think you’re doing you little brat? Who do you think you are?”
Words swam up into Melissande’s mind, Rowena’s words, and she spoke them outloud.
“I am the direct descendant of Queen Caryn'se, Ruler of the Fae and these ancient lands from the time the world began.” She shook her head. “You think the old gods created you to be a force of power and tyranny, but I think you’re wrong.”
With almost no effort, Melissande snapped the iron links that bound her, sitting up and grasping two more crystals in her hands. The Queen shot a bolt of power at her, but it sparked out and died like a fizzled candle before it could touch the Princess.
Melissande felt her body begin to buzz with an inexplicable energy, powerful and potent. But it didn’t scare her, it excited her, and it cradled her, protected her as she stepped down from the table and faced Layo’ita as she continued.
“I believe that when the old gods crafted me, they fashioned my veins and filled them with the blood of the fey, the blood of Caryn’se.” She held up the crystals in her palms. “They gave me the protection of the earth, the protection of Sanso’ye itself. The land of the silver-eyed people belongs to my ancestors, and we will not allow you to make our people suffer any longer!” 
Melissande’s voice was vibrating with power, and she could see the white light that surrounded her, emanating from her entire body. As the Queen tried to bombard her with more and more flashes of dark magic, Melissande looked to where her father and Dean stood chained. Their eyes were wide with disbelief, but then Dean smiled as she caught his eye. It was a warm smile, and it even looked a little proud. 
Melissande sent another crystal flying towards Dean. The gem barely touched his chains, but they quickly fell away. As soon as he was free, he immediately leapt for his sword. 
Layo'ita spun to face him, hand raised to throw more magic at him, and the chains had started reaching out for him again.
But Melissande shook her head. “No.” She said softly and four crystals broke apart and shot through the air to stab into the Queen’s skin, causing her to screech in pain.
Her scream was short-lived, however as Dean got ahold of his sword and swung it true, following through on his promise, and plunging it through her heart. 
The Queen’s face, skull-like and imobile, nevertheless wore a look of unbelievable shock as she fell backwards off of Dean’s sword and landed in a heap on the ground. Blood plumed across her chest, and as her last breath rattled out of her lungs, the Queen reached towards Melissande, as though, even in her last moments of life, she was desperately trying to grasp onto power.
After the Queen's death rattle, silence reigned for a moment, and Melissande could feel the power that had surged through her, begin to ebb, slowly melting away until she was just herself again, just a girl standing on very shaky legs.
Dean dropped his sword and ran to her, grasping her cheeks; his eyes flicked over her face quickly, taking inventory. Then without a word he claimed her lips in a stunning kiss, sweeping his tongue into her mouth and stamping her with it. He swallowed down her surprised cry, turning his head so he could slot his mouth over hers again and again.
They might have stayed like that forever if not for the King softly clearing his throat.
They nearly leapt away from each other as they were interrupted. They looked over to where Yasa stood, still weak and leaning against the wall, but also free from the chains. Melissande’s eyes widened.
“How did you get out of the chains?” 
The king pointed to where Robert was stirring slightly, his chains were also broken and laying on the floor. Yasa shrugged. “The magic died with her, I suppose.”
He smiled and raised an eyebrow. “I hate to pull you apart, but I do believe we should get out of this vile place.”
Dean sprang into action. “Yes, of course, Your Majesty.” He looked at the man’s spindly limbs and bit his lip. “I mean no disrespect, Your Grace, but there are many, many stairs to climb in order to get out of here. Will you allow me to carry you out?”
Yasa nodded. “Thank you Winchester.” As Dean moved to pick him up though, the King put a hand on his arm. “I owe you my life, and my kingdom and I want you to know, it wasn’t truly me who…who ordered your father’s death and your brother’s imprisonment. John and Sam were incredibly decent and loyal men, and I will make immediate moves to see to it your brother is released and your father is pardoned of all false crimes. I’m so sorry that I ever called on them for help.”
Dean’s jaw ticked and he swallowed sharply, but he shook his head. “No, Sir. You have nothing to apologize for. My father died trying to protect his King, as he’d vowed. And now that people will know that, he can rest peacefully and honorably.”
Dean swallowed tightly again. “But I’m very grateful to have my little brother back as soon as possible.”
The King nodded. “It shall be done.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” Dean said before he easily picked up the stick thin man.
Melissande felt her heart constrict as she imagined the joy waiting for Dean when Sam was finally freed at last. But she shook her head at her father. “Yes, we’ll do it all, but first, I believe I promised you warm soup and warm blankets.”
***
Two months later:
In the time that followed there was much rejoicing and reuniting; the kingdom learned slowly about all that had happened at the castle, both twelve years ago and at the equinox. Astonishment was high, but as time moved forward, the astonishment turned into great joy. A huge celebration was planned and many, many people were invited. 
All the King’s children had been called back home for a time, the invitation extended to their families as well. Yasa was determined to reconnect with his children, explain what had happened, and meet his grandchildren. He was slowly gaining weight, and color had returned to his skin, so he was more than ready to receive the rest of his family.
Melissande was slightly nervous about seeing her siblings again, or in the case of her eldest brother, seeing him for the very first time. But mostly she was excited, and she was happy that her father had survived to see his children all gathered under one roof.
Queen Hera had been given a place of honor for her eternal resting place. She'd been buried within the King’s Castle graveyard where Yasa could go put flowers on her grave easily while he recuperated. Melissande had caught him talking to her a few times when she came to pay her respects. Her father had been embarrassed at first, but she shook her head.
“No, Papa, don’t be ashamed. I talk to her all the time.” Tears filled her eyes. “I miss her very much, but I think she listens to us and it makes her happy to hear from us.”
Yasa nodded and kissed the crown of his daughter’s head. “You have your mother’s gentle spirit, and kind, loving heart.” He chucked her chin and winked at her. “But I’m gonna take credit for providing you with the fierce, unimaginable power you wield like a sword on behalf of your people.”
Melissande laughed. “I think that part comes along with these.” She said, pointing to her silver eyes and giving a shrug. “So, it probably does come from your side.”
When it came to her powers, she was still a little daunted by them, but with Rowena’s help she was beginning to learn about them, and how to manage them. 
There was some pushback from the church as the Kingdom made moves towards embracing the old gods and magic once again. But the King told them simply that this had always been a realm of magic, and when you repressed it, or left only a few to practice it, you ended up with power-hungry rivals for the throne and no one to check them.
There was a lot of grumbling at first, but those on different sides of the issue were starting to come together and at least work towards peace and harmony.
One of the happiest moments for Melissande in the months after escaping from the Queen’s wrath, had been when the prisoners were freed from the mines. It wasn’t only Sam that had been wrongly imprisoned. There were many that Layo’ita had sent to the mines simply for questioning her or for stating their opinion.
When they’d returned, seeing families reunited had brought on many happy tears. Watching Dean and Sam crush each other as they embraced for the first time in over a decade, had made her sob noisily into her handkerchief.
While the kingdom was being set to rights and the Warriors were returned to their former place of honor within the kingdom (some of the guardsmen who’d defended the castle so stoutly were taking the vow as Winchesters), it was easy to stay busy and distracted.
But as the celebration approached, and preparations fell into the capable hands of their craftsmen and artisans, Melissande found herself with a lot of time on her hands, and she began to contemplate what the future was going to look like for her and Dean.
She knew he’d only married her to keep her safe. So, now that she was, what would he do? He’d been reinstated as a First Line Warrior and had returned to his duties at the Winchester Keep. He was at the castle fairly frequently, helping the King set his defenses in order and shore up security around the kingdom since it had been allowed to become incredibly lax under a Queen who didn’t care about the people.
So, Melissande saw him fairly regularly, but they never spoke about their situation. It was always just polite conversation in which he addressed her formally as “Your Highness” or “Princess Melissande”. He never called her Mellie anymore and she missed the sound of it on his lips.
She also missed his lips, and his hands, and so many other parts of him. She missed the way she always felt so safe with him nearby, missed the way he teased her, or purposely tried to bait her. She just missed him, and she was starting to think that now that his duty was done, he was no longer interested in anything to do with her. 
But she thought about him all the time. She thought a lot about the wedding night that they never really had; she dreamed about it too.
Then one day a messenger arrived with a package for her. She saw that it came from Dean and she ripped it open excitedly. But when she saw what was inside her heart stopped beating and then plummeted to her stomach.
Inside were papers that had already been drawn up by the church and signed by Dean, papers that officially annulled their marriage, and set them free of one another. Dean had included a note at the bottom that said simply:
Have your father sign these as well, and it will be official, and you’ll be rid of me at last.
Melissande heard the teasing in the written words, could easily imagine the way his green eyes would sparkle, and the way they would crinkle at the corners as he smiled.
Her heart was broken and she ran to talk to the one person she knew would listen and not judge her for loving a man who didn’t want her. She knelt at her mother’s grave, rearranging the old flowers around her new ones.
“I don’t know what to do, Mama. I just love him. He’s so brave and strong and true. I know that sounds like the words of a lovesick fool, and I suppose I am. But they’re also the truth. He’s so honorable and chivalrous and…oh, Mama he’s so handsome. I think about him all the time, about…well about him kissing me or…well I just think about him. His voice and his laugh and…”
Her tears streaked her cheeks. “But he’s dissolving the contract between us, making it as though it never was.”
She wiped her cheeks and sniffled. “I suppose it’s fair. He only married me to keep me safe and to do the noble thing. Now that I’m safe, the kind thing to do would be to let him out of his obligation.”
She took a shuddery breath. “Yes, it’s the honorable thing to do.”
***
Dean walked into the King’s private antechamber, expecting to be discussing training for the new Warriors, and how the Keeps would be updated to accommodate the new men and women. But as he entered, the King waved at a seat beside him, bidding him to sit down. 
It was highly unusual. Generally he met with the King and a few members of his new Council. So being here alone was already strange, but also, Warriors stood during meetings, and they were certainly never invited by the King to sit beside him.
But not wishing to disobey his King, he perched on the edge of the seat and nodded at the sovereign awkwardly. “So, would you like me to list the supplies we’ll need to improve and expand the Keeps?”
But Yasa was shaking his head. “No, no. This isn’t a formal visit. I had some questions to ask you.”
Dean felt his heart beat a little faster. “Alright, Your Majesty. I’d be happy to try and answer them.”
The King was quiet for a moment before he turned inquisitive eyes on Dean. “Why did you marry my daughter?” 
Dean felt his stomach twist into a knot. Why the hell was the King talking to him about this? He and Mellie had already explained how and why the wedding had taken place, and Yasa had seemed fine with it at the time, maybe even a little grateful for Dean’s help.
So, what had changed; why did he want to discuss this now? Was this because of the annulment papers? Were there things he needed clarified?
Dean cleared his throat. “Well, as we told you, Your Grace, at the time, not knowing the full plans of the First Queen, it seemed like…”
Dean trailed off as the King waved at him. “No, no. I know the official reason, I know you meant to keep her safe, and I’m very grateful for that. But I suppose I meant to ask, was that the only reason? Or…is there a way you could see yourself staying married to her now that she’s safe?”
“I’m afraid…” Dean cleared his throat again. “Sire, I’m afraid I don’t…I mean, I’m not sure what you’re asking. I…of course I never dreamed of keeping her shackled to a mere Warrior. She no longer requires the protection of my name or my sword, so as any good subject would do, I’m removing the obligation of our vows.”
Yasa nodded. “I see…so…you don’t love her?”
Dean’s heart began to beat triple time. “I’m…Your Grace…I don’t…my feelings don’t matter one way or another. I’m a Warrior, Melissande is a Princess, I have no right to feel any way towards her. I’m all too aware that I am not worthy of her hand.”
“Hmm…” The King stroked his chin and then reached over to pull some papers off the table beside him. Dean recognized the annulment papers, but on top of them was a letter in neat, slanting handwriting. The King held it up. 
“This is a letter from Hera that she sent to me on Melissande’s eighteenth birthday. Of course, having been trapped in a dungeon, I only just got around to reading it. The letter talks about what an amazing woman Melissande has become, but then she goes on to talk about you.”
Dean frowned. “Me?”
Yasa smiled. “Yes, lad, you. She explains how you saved Melissande when she was just a little girl.” A shadow passed over his features. “Somehow that information never made it to me either, and I wasn’t in a dungeon then.” He sighed. “I have a lot to make amends for.”
He shook his head and continued. “In the letter, Hera says that when you saved her, she offered you Melissande’s hand when she came of age, but you said then too, that you were not worthy. But,” he lifted the letter, “she thought you were. In fact, she knew you were. And I would have to agree.”
Dean shook his head. “Your Majesty -”
Yasa cut him off. “You’ve now saved my daughter’s life twice. You saved me, and the kingdom.”
Dean scrubbed the back of his neck with his hand and stared at the floor. “With an awful lot of help from your daughter.”
The King smiled. “Yes, she was remarkable. But you fought to get to us and you stabbed that wicked witch through the heart so she could never again threaten our kingdom.” His voice became more impassioned. “Your father gave his life, and your brother gave his freedom in defense of our kingdom. Now, if that doesn’t label you as worthy, I don’t know what would.”
At a complete loss for words, Dean could only fidget on the chair and look anywhere but at his King.
Yasa’s voice was soft as he continued. “But worthy or not, I won’t let you be with her if you don't love her. She deserves all the tenderness that was denied to her and her mother because of Layo’ita…and me.”
Dean felt his mind cloud with visions of Mellie, the visions he fought against day and night - her laughter and its musicality, but also the way her eyes sparked when she was mad; her bravery and her vulnerability; the way she clung to him sometimes, and the way she bossed him around. He thought about the very real possibility the King was presenting to him - a life with Mellie at his side, maybe children in the future and a life lived with purpose and meaning.
He hardly believed it could be real. But he took a chance and spoke quietly, his voice slightly hoarse. “Yes, I love her. I love her very much.”
Dean actually jumped in his seat as the door burst open and Mellie thundered in. Her cheeks were flushed, and tears sparkled in her beautiful quicksilver eyes; her skin glowed slightly as the magic of her soul lit up her body.
“Really Winchester?” She said, swallowing harshly and trying to hide her beaming smile. “You told my father before you told me?”
Dean felt the King stand and walk towards the door, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of Mellie to look. The King paused at her side and kissed the top of her head.
“Go easy on him, poppet. He really loves you.” He gave a soft smile and left, thrilled with this development and off to tell Hera all about it.
As he left the room, Mellie walked up to where Dean still sat in the chair. “So?” She said, tapping her foot against the wooden floors.
Dean felt his chest expand as it began to dawn on him that he really was married to this spitfire princess with her shifting silver eyes, and miracle of miracles, she seemed to love him back, which meant he got to stay married to her.
He smiled widely and his eyes were teasing as he reached up to grab her hand and yank her down onto his lap. She let out a small squeal as he spoke.
“And if I did speak to your father before you, wife? What of it? I am your husband after all, so you have to obey me.”
She elbowed him in the ribs and he exhaled sharply. “Oof.” 
Mellie’s eyes glowed bright silver and Dean let his heart fill with awe as she spoke. 
“Not likely, my Winchester Warrior. I am the Princess Melissande, pride of my mother Queen Hera, descendant of the fairy Queen Caryn’se, daughter of the Fae, and the honored child of King Yasa of Sanso’ye.” She flicked her hair back over her shoulder. “I obey no one.”
Dean’s smile was soft as he brushed his lips softly against hers and cupped her cheek in his palm before conceding happily and running his thumb along her cheekbone. “Alright, my Mellie, I suppose the obedience part is negotiable.”
He kissed her as she laughed, and reveled in the sound, and in the way her body felt, pressed close to him.
He caught her chin with his thumb and forefinger and stared into her eyes. “Marry me, princess?”
She chuckled. “That part’s already done.” She gave him an impish grin. “But I’ll wed you all over again, happily, if you promise that this time, we get a wedding night.”
Dean’s eyes flared with heat and he kissed her long and deep, living for the sighs and whimpers that bubbled up from inside her. He pulled back when he was dizzy for air, and he was panting as he spoke.
“You know, sweetheart, technically we are already married, and I bet Rowena would let us stay a night in that big, beautiful bedroom of hers. If I offer her a big enough trade she might even take herself and Bernard away for the night.”
Mellie’s smile was blinding. “Send a messenger.”
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rowanisawriter · 2 days
Text
writer q&a
thanks for the tag @luvwich i love talking about myself lmao
tagging… @mashamorevvna @yourworsttotebag @swordbisexual no pressure
When did you start writing?
10 or 11 handwriting a three part series in notebooks lol i still remember the plot of my first book which was basically xmen AU. fic writing also started around that time
Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?
not really, my writing and my taste in reading usually align. even poetry which i read a lot of but don’t write, somehow still sneaks into my writing because i like making things read pretty
Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?
idk about fic but for published authors i like sally rooney and her character work, and i also love t. s. eliot’s rhythmic style in poetry, im always trying to emulate them
Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?
i have a toddler to the answer so this for now is my phone on the couch or in my bed in the middle of the night lmao. i’ve learned how to write under weird circumstances, but hopefully once she gives back some of the mental capacity she takes from me daily then i’ll sit at a table or something
What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?
can’t do it easily lol it comes to me in visions, usually after i read something or see a piece of art but if it’s not there it’s not there
Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?
i write a lot about religion… no that’s not surprising…. i also write a lot about love… that’s not surprising either lol
What is your reason for writing?
i like stories a lot, and i like being praised, so writing stories and having people read them checks two boxes for me lol
Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?
all comments are precious, but comments where people find something that i didn’t consciously put into a fic those are my favorite comments. i put a lot of myself into everything i write, sometimes i write things i don’t think about, when someone points it out it feels very personal (good)
How do you want to be thought about by your readers?
hope i don’t come across as insane, i want to be aloof and interesting but then people find me on tumblr and learn the truth
What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?
hopefully emotion, i focus a lot on that instead of setting or plot most of the time so if i get emotion right then that’s good, as long as i can make someone feel something then they’re compelled to continue reading (conversely when i am reading something and don’t feel any emotional connection to the thing then i put it down)
How do you feel about your own writing?
i like it very much, it’s the exact thing i want to read, and it was a very long road getting here to my true voice and style. i reread my own work constantly i really like it
When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?
i can only write for myself, the motivation to write is only there if it’s something i want to write, even challenges and prompts i struggle with because there is some aspect of “this isn’t truly my idea” that i struggle with. i’ve written things that just aren’t popular (weird ship, quiet fandom, etc) but i wrote it anyway because i wanted to. obvs i want to be read otherwise i wouldn’t post online but i have a good audience now so usually no matter what i write it does get read anyway, so may as well just write what i want lol
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