A/N: I feel like a lot of the fic I read (and write) centers around Emma, and paints Killian as a pining and/or doting partner, and we never really get to see the angry pirate side of him. I wanted to experiment with something different, so this piece aspires to be more Killian-centric and a little bit darker. Hopefully it comes out as what I imagine it to be. Warning, graphic depictions of violence ahead. American Assassin inspired AU.
Summary:After tragedy tears his life apart, Killian Jones is determined to exact revenge on the ones who wronged him. But his path to revenge turns out to be a winding one, filled with surprising characters that may even change his life again.
Killian toyed with the ring in his pocket while he waited for the bartender to make their drinks. He’d spent a considerable amount of time thinking about how he’d do this, but he hadn’t been able to come to a decision. Putting the ring in the drink seemed a little too cheesy, not to mention a choking hazard, but he wanted to present it in some special way, not just hand it to her like a bar of chocolate.
The bartender set two drinks down in front of him, and as Killian’s eyes took in the large, tropical flowers sitting atop each, he knew what he wanted to do. Carefully, he pulled the ring from his pocket and balanced it in the center of the flower, threading the pistil through it. Smiling he turned and located Milah on the beach, where she was emerging from the water, hands running over her dark curls. She smiled when she saw him and jogged toward him, accepting her drink while keeping her eyes locked on his, and he placed his hands on her waist, pulling her closer. Milah’s eyes flicked down as she went to take a sip of her drink, and the shine of the ring caught her attention at last.
“Killian?” she asked, her voice brimming with surprise.
“Milah, my love,” he said, taking her free hand in his, “you are everything I could ever need in this world and so much more. You brought me out of the darkness and showed me that life could be more than just loss. You’re my one true love, and there’s no one else I would rather travel the world with. I never want to be parted from you. Will you,” he continued, dropping to one knee, “allow me the honour of becoming your husband?”
“Are you serious?” Milah exclaimed, her eyes glistening with tears. “Are you really serious?”
“Is that a yes?” he asked, nerves practically paralyzing him.
“Yes, of course that’s a yes!” she nearly squealed, falling into his arms as he stood and peppered her face with kisses.
Killian took the ring and slipped it onto Milah’s finger, and she pressed a long kiss against his lips. He opened his mouth under the pressure and was only dimly aware of the applause coming from the people around them.
After a few moments, they broke apart, and Milah buried her face in his neck, laughing happily.
“I should go get the camera,” Killian whispered to the top of her head, his heart pounding with joy.
“Okay,” Milah agreed, stepping away. She took his cup and lay down in one of the lounging chairs.
Killian took a moment to appreciate how beautiful she looked before jogging off in the direction of the hotel. As he went, he noticed a speedboat zooming across the shallows, sending waves across the sand. Boats themselves weren’t unusual, but it was the first time he had seen one so close to the beach. There was nothing sinister about a speedboat, however, so Killian simply kept moving, wanting to get up to their room and grab the camera as quickly as possible so he could return to celebrating.
Just as Killian was wrapping his hand around the hand of the door, he hear a barrage of gunshots, and he turned to see bullets spraying across the beach, striking down one person after another. Fear gripped him, and he turned immediately to run back toward Milah, but people were running everywhere, and he could no longer see where she was. Her brown curls blended into the crowd of people and despite his best efforts, he couldn’t seem to locate her.
“Milah!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, trying desperately to be heard over the hundreds of other people calling for their loved ones. “Milah!”
Amongst all the local flyers, you notice one on tattered, moldy parchment. The ink looks fresh-wait is that blood?
‘Come to the Maze and face the Nightmares within’
Zhena Gao, your resident hocat, is excited to announce the opening of the seasonal RP space - The Haunted Maze!
Located in Mists Ward 10, Topmast Apartment 20 on Balmung, the Haunted Maze is a public RP space open through the month of October for you and your friends to explore. Gather up the fc and go get spooked!
Recommended groups of 5 or smaller at a time, and I kindly ask you don’t take screenshots of the interior and ‘spoil’ it for other patrons.
Hair Colour: Royal purple (faint, lighter streaks around his face)
The Facts -
3rd Sun of the 5th Astral Moon
Sexual identification: Heterosexual
Romantic identification: Panromantic (probably)
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Criminal History: None on record but he’s killed a good number of people in cold blood (and not), both on the job and of his own accord. The only time he was “caught,” he was left for dead. He used to steal on a regular basis as well.
Relationship Status: Single
Sweet on: [I love this phrase haha.] @qara-ffxiv‘s Qara but nothing too serious.
Favourite food: Honey muffin, fish
Favourite drink: Hot water
Favourite artist: None
Favourite scent: Baking, and the lack thereof at high altitudes
Favourite person: Right now… probably @onceahocat‘s Zhena tbh
Ten facts about your muse:
⚫ The carvings on his horns may seem like a done deal but… he still adds to them occasionally when he’s stressing.
⚫ Cuinn is scales.
⚫ He has a strong tendency to not visually focus on anything or anyone around him, which can come off as rude or disconnected.
⚫ He’s often slow to speak. Ask him a question? Be prepared to wait a good few seconds–or not be answered at all if you aren’t already ignored. If you speak the tribal tongue, though, or even Doman, he’s easier to converse with. And it’s not that he isn’t fluent in Eorzean.
⚫ Cuinn doesn’t read well and he writes worse.
⚫ He adores the sky. He always wants to be closer to it and doesn’t like being under a roof for long periods of time.
⚫ He enjoys cooking and baking but doesn’t often get the opportunity to use a kitchen. He almost always needs something to eat or drink while he’s working and is easily distracted. (Want to get him to try something he normally wouldn’t? This is it…)
⚫ Hidden behind the base of his right horn is a tiny figure of a flighted bird secured there by twine. I’ve been toying with the idea of it actually being a manifestation of a soul crystal–lore which I have largely ignored because I don’t care for it and generally feel it’s more of a game mechanic–and its presence actually justifies and lines up perfectly with a few things in his history.
⚫ Cuinn almost always wears a scarf, usually a red one, regardless of the weather. He loves feeling toasty.
⚫ Cuinn calls himself “Hawk” but he’s not secretive about it being an alias.
Five Things -
5 Things they like:
5 Things they dislike:
Whole raw (dead) fish
Being told what to do
5 Good habits:
Eats and sleeps as needed
Sets aside gil from his earnings
Regular showers/does laundry/gear maintenance
Listens carefully to what he is told
Upkeeps his three languages
5 Bad habits:
Takes advantage of free food/takes more than he needs
Negatively overperceives (assumed) attention from strangers
Ignores people/situations he doesn’t want to deal with
Sleeps in–all the time
Would rather kill first, don’t ask questions later
5 Personalities they gravitate toward:
5 Personality types they avoid:
Losing himself to his darkness
Being obligated to things/people he did not willingly commit to
“Morning,” you said, shuffling into the kitchen in your pajamas. You walked over to Illya and wrapped your arms around his waist.
“Morning, krasivaya,” he said, kissing your forehead. You walked towards the coffee pot and poured yourself a cup.
“What smells so good?” you asked. Illya smiled at you and raised an eyebrow.
“I made breakfast,” he said, walking over to the stove top. He revealed a plate of pancakes and you smiled.
“Mmm. Don’t get me wrong, I love it, but why did you do it?” Illya laughed and sat down at the table.
“Because it’s your birthday.”
“You remembered,” you said, taking a bite of the pancake.
“Of course I did.”
“I just figured since we weren’t home, you would have forgotten.”
“I would never forget,” he said, taking your hand.
“You’re the best. Thank you.” Illya smiled and wiped his mouth before standing up.
“Hurry up because I have more things planned for the day.”
“What?” you asked, your mouth full of pancake. Illya laughed and gave your forehead a kiss.
“Meet me downstairs when you’re ready, lyublyu.”
After you finished your breakfast, you slipped on a pale blue dress and matching jacket and made your way to the elevator. You were putting on earrings when the elevator door opened and Gaby walked in.
“Happy birthday, Y/N,” she said, hugging you.
“Thanks. Where are you going?” you asked, noticing her elegant black dress.
“Napoleon and I are going undercover at a gala at the museum,” she said, fixing her lipstick in the reflection of the elevator.
“Illya’s not coming?”
“No, he took the day off for your birthday.” You looked at Gaby as the elevator door opened. You stepped out into the hallway and saw Napoleon and Illya standing in the lobby.
“Y/N,” Napoleon said walking towards you. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your cheek. “Happy birthday,” he said, never letting go of your waist.
“Okay, cowboy.” You turned and saw Illya standing behind Napoleon, stone faced. You laughed and patted Napoleon on the back, pushing away from him. Illya took your hand and kissed it.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Yeah, just one thing. Can I talk to you in private for a minute?” Illya nodded and followed you across the lobby.
“Were you suppose to be working today?” Illya sighed and rubbed your arms.
“Your birthday is more important. They don’t need me today.” You sighed and looked up at him. “Come on,” he said, pulling on your hand.
The cab pulled up to a vineyard and you turned towards Illya with a smile. You scooted across the seat and kissed him.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Illya said.
You climbed out of the cab and took Illya’s hand. He began leading you through the beautiful vineyard, until he stopped suddenly.
“409,” he said.
“This is row 409,” he said, beginning to walk down the row of grapes. You followed after him, Illya ignoring your questions.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” you asked about ten minutes later.
“We’ll be there soon,” he said, still dragging you along the row. You reached the end of the row and you saw a few bushes of roses surrounding a table.
“Illya!” He smiled at you and led you over to the table. There were dining plates already set up and a couple of wine bottles on the table. He pulled out a chair for you and you sat down.
He poured you a glass of wine and sat down across from you. You took his hand and continued to smile.
“This is amazing, Illya.”
“I’m glad you like it, Y/N,” he said as a waiter brought over plates of pasta and bread.
“Oh my god,” you said, looking up at him. “You’re the greatest boyfriend ever.” Illya laughed and let go of your hand.
“I have one more surprise for you,” he said, standing up.
“No, no, no,” you said, shaking your head. “Illya, you’ve done enough, really.”
“Just this last thing,” he said, walking up to you. He stopped in front of you and smiled. You smiled up at him and laughed.
“What?” he asked.
“Can you like squat or something?” you asked. “It’s hurts my neck to keep looking up at you like this.” Illya laughed and got down on one knee.
“This works better, actually,” he said. You let out a small gasp as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box.
“I promise, this is the last thing,” he said with a smile. “Y/N, I love you and in all honesty, I’ve never felt stronger about someone before.” He took your hand and you squeezed it as he opened the box and revealed an oval shaped diamond ring.
“I love you and I want to spend everyday with you. Not just as my girlfriend, but as my zhena.”
“Your zhena?” you asked with a smile.
“My wife. Y/N M/N L/N, will you marry me?” You wrapped your arms around him and he fell back into the grass.
“Yes!” you said. Illya rolled over and sat up in the grass. He slipped the ring on your finger and kissed you passionately.