green masked demon

okay, here’s the thing:

the last two months have been kind of crazy (I’m just going to sum it up with: my family situation touched ‘impossible to live together’ levels, my mother kinda left, they are separating, I’m with mom most of the time because my grandpa got sick and his mind is not what it used to be, so he needs to have company at all times, which means I’m at his house most of the time. My health got worse. My family is super poor and can’t just do fancy splitting up and separating officially, which means cohabitation with people who can’t stand each other. My little brother sorta left sorta came back. My health is still bad, I can’t put on weight, right now I can only wait until May for more exams while I keep eating gluten to see what happens. I have one last exam to give, I’ll start on my thesis tomorrow. My stress levels do not help my bad health.) sooooo yeah, I want to write, I do have inspiration start with princess Emma, then bandit Emma, then canon Emma (not that I don’t love her, I’m just satisfied with where the show went with her arc. I didn’t like some things in s5 and s6 but her story feels complete, happy beginning  and all) and I’m not exactly following the show

but I miss you guys, not just as in rp partners but as people I can talk to every now and then. I’ve never been very chatty, I’m too introverted, but I LIKE when we comment on each other’s posts, and when I can check on you because I read your ooc posts or you comment on mine. I also miss our threads, obviously, and I’d also like to write with some more characters, and because I want you to also be able to know where the hell am I, I’m going to move my blogs in a multi one I’ve been making, where all posts will be tagged so you can blacklist what you don’t want to see. I will continue our threads there when I get replies as well, and also the ones I have drafted (when I have inspiration, mentioning you in new posts, you can like if you see them whether you want to drop them or not, it’s cool, I still have them tracked in my rp thread tracker anyway if you choose to reply) and hope for the best. If some of you don’t want to follow there, that’s okay too, I do have that rpthreadtracker that will allow me to come back here too when I get replies and inspiration strikes, but I won’t be as active in general.   Though the multiblog too will probably have low activity given my personal life insanity.

(also I will miss my urls, is that weird?)

I’m going to mention people I’ve seen online lately, but this goes for ALL my rp partners in these blogs. These blogs were special, written with people I really love roleplaying with, so of course I still want to write with all of you, even if you come back after years of hiatus

the new blog is @wearesostupid​ and for now only Princess Emma about page and verses are up. Soon I’ll add the others. They are NOT CS only, I will interact with more characters  I will probably have to add a few rules to canon Emma because there are some things I’m not happy with and that I don’t consider part of my blog, so it’s more like canon divergent (sorry, but her relationship with Regina won’t be a friendship from Emma’s part. Same as with Rumplestiltskin, really. She does hold some bitterness against people in general, she’s no saint)

okay, so, I don’t want to put anyone in an awkward situation so I won’t ask people directly, but since I’m trying to return online I might get inspiration for replies I owed too (maybe not all of them lol it’s been seven months of nothing from me)

so. Like this post if for some reason you are cool getting replies for old threads (of course if you do and then realize you don’t feel like replying anymore, don’t remember it enough or whatever else, it’s totally fine to drop it even if I replied, this isn’t a contract)

if you only want to keep specific ones instead, you can just show up in my im to say ‘save this and that if you get inspiration for them’

post-trauma sentence meme | @banditandamother 

Killian nodded. “He is.” Of that, he would always agree. Liam was the best brother he ever knew of, giving up so much for him, looking out for him– It wasn’t until she repeated his words, asking that question, that Killian’s own brain caught up with itself enough to realize what he’d let slip. What the cold had made him reveal about his past. Or at least, inadvertently hint at. 

He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.” Killian quickly tried to deflect it away, to push aside her question. We just weren’t that important to them, he thought. Slaves to work on ships could be found at any port city, and it wasn’t like he was a great investment as a boy anyway. Not at that point. The crew didn’t care– “It doesn’t matter. I–I didn’t die, and that is what matters.” How pissed the captain was afterwards, the annoyance of the crew at it all, none of that mattered. Killian had, ultimately, put it all behind him. 

post-trauma sentence meme | @banditandamother 

Emma blinked, staring forward, then turned to look at the pirate. What was going on that day? He had gotten hurt, she had gotten worried, he had somehow convinced her not to go kill the people that had hurt him, and now… this. 

“Usually the only way to break the silence for me is to talk to the forest animals. Or I visit a town and the talking is mostly done with men… well, to men, while I make them do other things to me,” her tone made instantly clear what kind of things she meant, “Not exactly sharing there. There is also ‘give me your gold or I’ll slit your throat’ and ‘a big mug of that drink. Yes, a mug’. Those are classics.” She unfolded her arms, opening them to rest her elbows on top of the log behind her. “Since after the day Regina took my life, I haven’t spent two days straight around people until I met the Fish Princess over there. And now we’d been together weeks, months. With you too. I don’t…” she shook her head and looked away, tapping on the log nervously. “I already have what you’d call a bad temper. And I wanted to kill those idiots and you stopped me. It’s a mistake to talk when I’m incapable of self-control and get mad at everything. I usually don’t have to control myself ‘cause on my own.”

Hook of course listened to her while he drank, mostly because it was, yes, something to break the silence and give him something else to focus on, other than his injuries that were trying to heal. That he was doing his best not to think about. He was used to spending time with people, though his crew weren’t exactly equal to him; he was their captain, he had to be set apart from them in some way. Which gave a certain set of loneliness to it, if he thought about it. One of the reasons he’d been so fond of Milah all those years ago. She was different, special; an equal partner to him in a way none of the rest of the crew could ever be. 

post-trauma sentence meme | @banditandamother 

He took another long swig of rum, just for something to do, mostly. Hook didn’t like the fact that she seemed upset, and while yes, she always seemed angry, he also knew she was angrier now than usual. That much was obvious. But he also wasn’t used to apologizing to anyone about anything; in fact, the last person he’d probably ever apologized to for anything was Milah, and that had been years and years ago–and he couldn’t even remember what for. Probably something minor… 

“It’s not a mistake to talk. To share,” he muttered, though whether Hook was speaking more under his breath to himself, or actually to Emma, he wasn’t quite sure. “Breaks the silence, at least.” 

Emma blinked, staring forward, then turned to look at the pirate. What was going on that day? He had gotten hurt, she had gotten worried, he had somehow convinced her not to go kill the people that had hurt him, and now... this. 

post-trauma sentence meme | @banditandamother 

He leaned into her, not minding the wolf so much now since it was on her side, not his. The closer he got to the fire, the more the warmth started to hit him and the more he shivered as that combated the cold in his body already from the water. Her touch was warm, of course, the fire was, but the clothes were still soaked, still stuck to his skin and doing nothing to help dry him off or warm him up. 

Killian nodded and shrugged. She had a point there. There was only so many clothes a person could take off before it became indecent, of course, so the beating sun usually won out on a hot day. Blankets and layers could be a man’s friend–unless they were soaked through with sea water, that was. But at her question, Killian shook his head. “Once. When I was a boy.” He’d come a lot closer to drowning this time, the waters rougher and pulling his stronger body under a lot quicker than they had years ago, but the situations had been… .similar, at least. “My brother, he–he got the crew to get me out.” The captain had been most displeased at the wasted time, of course, and he’d been in trouble for that, but Killian didn’t share that part of the story. He wasn’t even sure why he shared what he did. 

Maybe it was the cold. 

post-trauma sentence meme | @banditandamother 

He realized he’d probably upset her afterwards, when it was already done, as she put the stuff away with a bit more… enthusiasm than seemed absolutely necessary. The way she said his name further proved what he already knew; she was angry at him now. He took a swig of the rum anyway, to ease the pain he was still feeling. “Swan,” Hook said, lowering the flask as she closed the bag back up, trying to get her attention. “Swan, look, I’m–” Why he felt the need to actually apologize right now, Hook had no idea. He never apologized to anyone for anything. Ever. 

“It wasn’t what I was expecting, alright?” 

post-trauma sentence meme | @banditandamother 

There was no way Killian was getting any nearer to that wolf than he had to, steering clear of the beast and giving it a semi-wide berth as he somewhat pushed himself down against the wall, sliding to the floor of the cave. Killian was shivering and the thief had a point; while nights at sea could be bitingly cold as well, there was warm, dry clothes there; there were blankets. He wasn’t stuck in wet clothes that clung to his skin and water that seeped through to his very bones, it seemed. Killian shivered as he sat there, waiting on a fire to form. He’d offer to help, but he was afraid with the shaking his hands were doing as he clutched the cloak around his shoulders, he wouldn’t be much success. 

He watched her form the fire, watched the flame spring to life. “You’re… bragging now,” he muttered, pushing himself up enough to move closer to the growing fire, not even bothering to get up completely from the ground as Killian moved across the cave floor towards the warmth. 

post-trauma sentence meme | @banditandamother 

He knew a bit about the cursed kingdom, even for all the time he’d spent in Neverland. But focusing on her did help him forget his own pain and discomfort for a moment. Helped him focus and think on something else, though following her story–Hook raised an eyebrow when she was finished. “Apples? She did all that, because of apples?” He was a pirate, and he refused to allow anyone to steal from him, but even so, that seemed like a bit of an… overreaction. Even to him. His look probably said as much as he gazed at her, took in the sight of her scar and met her eyes, as if waiting for a further addition to the story. 

“I know the queen is… special, but that is a little bit more… over-the-top than even I would have credited her for. You sure there wasn’t anything special about those apples you stole?” Hook muttered, breathing slowly to focus past the pain in his side as it seemed to ease a little, now that it was stitched up. He reached for the flask of rum in his coat pocket, desperately needing a drink. 

post-trauma sentence meme | @banditandamother 

He opened his mouth to question her, even if she said not to question it. A thief who knew fairies wasn’t something one came across every day, and he couldn’t imagine her singing to anyone, besides. It wasn’t until he noticed the golden eyes of the wolf that Killian felt a moment’s trepidation, the first since he’d been taken from the water and nearly died. And yet–the thief didn’t seem to think anything of the creature. In fact, she seemed to be treating it like a pet, like it was no more unusual than a common, domesticated dog. A freaking puppy. The look of confused shock must have surely shone on Killian’s face, for he knew he was probably unable to hide it. 

“You–That’s not exactly a puppy, woman,” he muttered, more under his breath than directly to her, as he felt her arm come back around him, Killian leaning more against Emma than he wished he had to do. He was shivering even more now, the cold working its way deeper. He really needed a fire to warm up, the cool air that was continuing to blow and bite at his skin through the wet clothes only making things worse.