#He's to hoping a legacy figure or somthing better comes out

[scribe-of-hael]

Therapist: Breakdown Wheeljack isn't real, he can't hurt you

Breakdown Wheeljack:

This Breakdown's EARTHSPARK toy, BTW

[fanfic-mind]

Blood on my hands (all that i've gained and all that i've lost)

pairing: merthur

warnings: non

status: fanfic draft, Part 1/? (~ 2300)

It’s yet again an hour of need for Camelot. But the weapon they need to safe kingdom and people comes with a price. Only those who prove that they are powerful and wicked can receive it. The knights of Camelot don’t have enough evil deeds to be worthy of the sword. They think everything is lost - until  Merlin speaks up...

A magic reveal story in which Merlin makes good use of being a morally grey character. Because, yea, Merlin-is-the-victim-reveals are swell and all but he is capable of making his own decisions and some of them are pretty shady. There is still a good amount of Uther bashing included.

Somehow they get into a situation that requires someone with blood on their hands - figuratively (otherwise it wouldn't be a problem because seeing how often Arthur and Merlin and also Gwaine get wounded by just existing they probably wouldn't even have to injure anyone)

Maybe a god of the Old Religion guards a weapon they need to kill the magic beast of the week or to destroy a cursed item.

In any case: they are really desperate. People are dying and this is their last hope, their last resort.

To their misfortune, this weapon is guarded by a very cunning and wicked god and they will only give their weapon to someone who has the power and the will to use it for evil deeds

There is a test that must be passed by the one who wants to receive the weapon. They must prove that they did enough evil deeds to be worthy of it.

Arthur quickly fails his test because despite some wrongs he's done he is way too just and noble to be wicked

The only knight that seems to get at least a few moments more of consideration is Leon who has done some terrible things - however under Uther's orders which isn't quite powerful enough

"Ahh, Uther Pendragon," the god muses, "Him i would have given the weapon. Such rage and blind hatred and, oh yes, so much blood."

Arthur grits his teeth and sets his jar. he wonders if his father would be disappointed in him for not living up to this legacy of his. he wonders - not for the first time - why he wanted to be like his father once and how he managed to end up being so different.

The knights discuss their strategy. non of them is wicked enough to pass the test. they have wicked people in Camelot's dungeons. But Camelot is three day rides off and their quest is really urgent.

They could separate and seek for wicked folk, but the chances seem slim and the risk of them keeping the weapon as they receive it seems too big

People are dying and they need to do something now.

"there must be another way to destroy it," Lancelot suggests, though they've been over this. His eyes stray to Merlin, but Merlin seems caught up in thought.

If there was an easier way to do this, Merlin and Gaius would have come up with it by now. asking the god had been their idea in the first place.

"What if there isn't?" Gwaine argues heatedly. "We can't have waisted six days for nothing. This is probably our last chance."

"so what do you suggest?" Lancelot interrupts somewhat irritated. They temperaments are heated at this point. And suddenly knowing each other’s worst deeds doesn’t exactly lighten the mood. "All of us failed the test. i wouldn't have thought that I'd ever be angry about being found too good and noble."

Gwaine shrugs with a grimace. He hadn't thought that he'd ever be deemed good and noble in the first place.

"maybe there's a way out of that," Arthur says. He hasn’t spoken in a while and all heads turn towards him.

"what do you mean, Sire?" Leon asks, looking uneasy as if he already knows and doesn't like it.

"If you're not noble enough, you proof your nobility by doing good deeds," Arthur starts matter of fact. "so, logically, if I'm not wicked enough, i prove my wickedness by doing an evil deed."

The god smiles a toothy smile.

"To murder just anyone obviously isn't evil enough" Arthur says, looking at the god with disgust. "so it must be somthing worse. murdering a friend, for example."

"My king, with all due respect, this is madness," Leon say carefully.

"sir Leon, that's the point." Arthur says sourly.

"is that really it?" Gwaine shouts at the god who watches his outburst unimpressed. "You want us to slaughter each other?"

the god laughs, distant and hollow and the earth seems to vibrate with it. "The weapon can only be taken by those of power who are wicked and cunning enough to wield it." the god repeats his earlier words.

"So there's not even a guarantee," Gwaine says, throwing up his arms. "Arthur, let's just leave and see if we can find something else."

"there is nothing else, Gwaine, you said so yourself!" Arthur returns. His expression is incredibly pained but determined in a way that makes them all shudder. Leon, Percival and Lancelot unconsciously get into fighting stance.

Gwaine takes a few steps to put himself between the king and Merlin who is the most vulnerable

Arthur nods to himself, seemingly coming to a decision in his head.  Tehn he draws his sword . "If either of you kills me while i try to kill you, that might be enough too" he muses

They all stare at him in horror, unable to believe that he will go through with this.

"My people are dying," Arthur says, his tone pleading, "if i have to sacrifice my good conscience to help them - well, it is a price i must be willing to pay. I'm sorry. But all of you swore to protect Camelot at all costs too."

Arthur halts for am moment then nods grimly. "Don't try to sacrifice yourself. I'm sure that's not what he's looking for" Arthur nods towards the stony god who smiles.

"you can't be serious" Mordred whispers.

"I'm afraid i am. Now, it's been an honour. truely. and i hope - i hope I'll still have your respect afterwards. Though, i can understand if you can't trust me again."

"that's enough."

They all turn around. Partly, because they had forgotten about Merlin who has been uncharacteristically quiet the whole time. and partly because they have rarely heard this sort of tone from him. harsh and demanding. a voice more fit for a king than his manservant.

They stare at him and he makes short eye contact with Arthur before he steps forward, in front of the statue that the god is using as a vessel.

"test me." Merlin says. his voice is determined and his shoulders are set.

Arthur let's out a short laugh, because clearly this is absurd, right? Merlin is the best and kindest of all of them. Actually, coming to think of it, if he's really honest, Merlin probably is the reason Arthur is not like his father. Merlin makes him better. Merlin makes him want to be better.

A few of the knights share his sentiments, laughing slightly hysterical with tension but still perplexed over this development.

Only Lancelot steps forward with a frown as if to pull him back, but merlin raises a hand without looking at him and he stops in his tracks.

Arthur who was about to say something stops too.

The god looks more alive than before he seems to stretch himself to his full height as if he has waited for this

"welcome" he starts as he has with all of them. "young warlock, tell me your deeds."

lancelot tenses, casting a worried glance back at the king who stands there, sword still drawn, eyes fixed in Merlin as if he doesn't understand any of this

Lancelot doesn't either. Even if Merlin is a sorcerer - what evil deeds can he possibly have done? Saving Arthur's life over and over without ever seeking credit doesn't have a ring of evil to him.

"I am Merlin, and they call my Emrys." Merlin starts.

Some of the Knights gasp. Emrys is a name they know by now.

Lancelot wonders whether Merlin considers his identity an evil deed in itself. The possibility breaks his heart a bit.

"I was born with magic. I am the most powerful sorcerer there is."

Merlin takes a deep breath.

"i lied to all my friends. I let them think they can trust me, that they know me. But they never will. I could kill them just by looking at them. I am magic and i killed many behind friends backs and before their eyes, but never revealed myself to them"

"I am a slayer of my own people," he continues, his voice hard, "I killed many creatures and men of magic to protect their murderers - the king and his son. I did it out of self-righteousness and out of selfishness because...” for a moment, Merlin halts, but then he continuous with the same hard tone as before, as if something is forced out of him, but he wants to stand for it.

“I loved Arthur more than my own people. i let many of them die even though i could have helped them if i had revealed myself. But i couldn't bear the thought to be separated from him so i stayed quiet and watched them burn."

The god nods Merlin on. They all stand in shock. They know from before that Merlin won't be able to stop telling his deeds before the god thinks he is done.

"I killed the witch Nimueh even though she told me i have to pay with a life to save Arthur's. Instead of giving my life as i promised, i killed her."

"I killed Mary Collins, Afanc, Aulfric, Sophia, Cornelius Sigan, Myror and many more. "

Merlin's voice falters a bit, but he seems to pull himself together visibly, because his voice is clearer again when he keeps speaking.

"My betrayal to my people is so great, my wickedness so deep, i considered to kill a child on the mere possibility that he could threaten what was mine in the future."

Mordred makes a quiet stricken noise.

No one dares take their eyes off Merlin, but Merlin himself turns his head slowly.

There is a gasp of horror when they all see that his eyes are glowing yellow with magic.

Up until now, no one except Mordred and Lancelot had truly believed it.

"I tried to kill Mordred when he was a child and i wish his death even now though he is kind and serves Arthur."

Lancelot looks at Merlin with complete bewilderment as Mordred sobs.

Merlin doesn't answer Lancelot's gaze, he just turns around again.

They can hear him take in another breath and it sounds more halting than before.

"I knew that my friend had magic and i saw her turmoil and her fear of being killed. of being burned by her own kin like all of the others. but instead of helping her, i left her in the dark. I told her to trust me - she trusted my - and then i poisoned her."

Merlin stops for a moment, his voice sounds rough as if speaking becomes quickly more difficult.

"I gave Morgana poison in full intend and watched her as she died and i regretted when she was healed."

"Only i had the power and knowledge to save her, but i turned my head from her suffering, i killed her when she didn't know better than to turn to her sister, it was me that made her what she is today."

There is another short pause. Lancelot is desperate to see Merlin's face. To demand how this all really went. Because though he knows that Merlin is bound to say the truth by the power of the god, he still thinks there must be a mistake or a trick. This is not Merlin. Merlin would never...would he?

"I conspired with and freed the dragon that attacked Camelot which led to the death of many innocent people. I attempted to kill Arthur on multiple occasions."

Lancelot frowns. This one he knows to be untrue. Merlin didn't want to kill Arthur. it was Morgana's doing that he went after him.

"i saved Uther Pendragon's life - more than once. I let him live even though he slaughtered my people. I saved his life even though i didn't have to. I never killed him even though i had many opportunities."

Merlin pauses then, looking up at the god.

"Do i really need to go on?" he asks and it sounds almost indifferent. except they know Merlin and they know how his face looks when he sounds this way.

The god leans their head to one side slowly. the stone his vessel is made of groans.

"You are worthy, young warlock. More than you know. Into your hands i command my sword."

Suddenly, there is noise and light and they cover their eyes, everyone except for Merlin and Mordred.

They can't be sure but they think they can hear Merlin's voice through it all, speaking a foreign tongue. Then, it's over.

When the air clears, Merlin stands alone, the stone vessel of the god has crumbled to pieces, a big sword in his hand. For just a moment, when he turns around to face them, he looks nothing like Merlin at all. His eyes are golden, and his face is grim, lips pressed into a thin line. His posture is straight and majestic and he holds the sword like a warrior. His appearance strikes them with fear. He looks like power incarnate.

The others notice from the corners of their eyes that Mordred kneels before him. and even as they are completely bewildered, they have an urge to do the same.

The next moment though, it's all gone, and Merlin looks like he's never handled a sword before. His eyes are blue and his cheeks messy with dust and tears. He sinks to his knees and the weapon falls from his hands - is pushed from his fingers as if through magic, landing on the ground with a strange sound.

Merlin looks after the sword with disgust clear on his face. Then he looks up and suddenly he looks afraid.

To be continued

[sunnylildragun]

I'll be coming for your love, okay?

Day 5 of the Bumbleby Week! Hope y'all enjoy this ^-^

When Sun contacted them saying Weiss needed to relax and that she was driving him crazy by taking all the stress out on him, Blake and Yang were a bit concerned about how they could help. The two had barely been able to survive the Schnee's overwhelming stressful routine when they were students at Beacon. They couldn't imagine what it would be like having to live through it as she was working as the CEO of a whole company.

Not that they blamed her. Her family- her father- didn't leave a kind legacy to her, and Weiss wanted to rebuild the SDC to fit the world after war. She wanted it to be a symbol of the new era in which the racism and the abuse towards faunus, the corrupt ways and the bigotry were not associated to her name. It was a long road to travel, and a lot of weight on her shoulders too, especially for someone as young as her. Weiss Schnee being Weiss Schnee believed that doing it all by overworking herself would be plausible.

It wasn't.

Sun understood her, of course he did. They had been dating for some years, after all. It had been enough for him to learn to read her and know how her mind worked. So if he called to ask for help, it meant that things were bad. Really bad. A whole new level of bad. Probably not as bad as she was when they started at Beacon, but still.

So these beach days at Menagerie weren't really about Blake and Yang. They were about getting Weiss' mind off of work and saving Sun's ears from exploding. They figured they would make the best of it, though, and enjoy their brief break.

Blake had forgotten how good it felt to smell the salty waters of the Menagerian sea, to feel the warm and smooth sand under her feet, to be free from the busy life at Vale. So she rested her head on Yang's shoulder and sighed, looking at the horizon as the waves crashed. The blonde had her left arm wrapped around her girlfriend and smiled at her friends as they played volleyball. Nora and Oscar had teamed up againt Jaune and Ren. The woman said it was to keep both teams balanced, which made Jaune let out a high pitched "hey!"

"Place your bets." Yang whispered to Blake and Ruby. "I bet fifty bucks that Nora and Oscar win."

"You know I don't like losing," Blake answered and got laughter out of the brawler.

"I wanna bet on a tie!" Ruby said.

"You're on, sis."

The match went on. It was a very smooth win for Nora and Oscar, who high fived each other and teased Jaune for losing even with Ren on his team. The blond was pouting while his teammate patted him on the back.

"It's not that bad, Jaune." Ren's soft voice was soothing. "You could've been hit on the face more."

"Ya bet he could!" Nora shouted.

"Aww man..." Ruby pouted beside Yang. "Can't believe I lost fifty lien..."

"You should know better than to make bets against me. My Yang-tuition is the best!"

"Yang-tuition?" Blake raised an eyebrow.

"Yup! Yang intuition. The best, hottest and sharpest intuition in all Remnant!"

"Of course it is." Blake's eyes rolled.

"Ooohhh is that a challenge, Belladonna?"

"I don't know. Is it?" the sarcasm in the faunus' voice could actually cut flesh.

"You're on. I bet I win against you and Sun."

"Alone?"

"Of course not, dummy. I'm gonna team up with Weiss."

"Oh no, the short princess and buff blonde. How am I gonna win now?"

"Do I have to remind you of that time you lost when you played against us?"

"I was sick."

Yang laughed. "Of course you were. Now come on, let's get the lovebirds out of their make out session. There are children in the beach." she helped her girlfriend up. "Nora! Gimme the ball!"

The redhead threw the ball at her, which she caught with her prosthetic. The pair walked to Sun and Weiss, who were kissing in an isolated corner. Yang threw the ball at them, which caused yelps to come from the couple.

"Yang Xiao Long! What was that for?!" Weiss yelled at the taller woman.

"Blake thinks she and Sun can beat you and me in volleyball. Wanna give these two babies a show?"

A spark of confidence and competitiveness sparked in the CEO's eyes. "You are going to regret the day you challenged my abilities, Blake Belladonna. I'm gonna beat you so hard in this game that you will never set foot in this beach court. I'm gonna burn down your legacy! I am going to-"

"Let's go!" Sun shot up, running to the improvised court. Weiss rolled her eyes affectionately and walked there too, with her friends right behind her.

"A hundred lien?"

"A hundred lien."

When the trio got there, Sun was already stretching. Weiss slapped his butt playfully as she passed him. "Such a nice butt, Sunny boy. Too bad it's gonna be kicked into oblivion."

Blake and Yang laughed out loud and then got into position in the opposite sides. The game started, and Sun and Blake were the first ones to score. They teased their girlfriends about it as they started setting an advantage, but they didn't notice that the duo was purposefully going easy on them. The tallest woman was letting the ball hit her for the sake of absorbing impact, storing up energy. By the faunus' tenth score, Weiss and Yang cut the fairplay off and started taking the game seriously.

Soon enough, they surpassed the other team, only taking two aces. The game was about to end. 14×12. Yang was about to serve and smirked as her eyes turned red. She used her semblance to throw the ball at the opponents, and aced powerfully. Weiss' arms were up in celebration and the two women did a small victory dance. They were receiving indignant stares from their respective girlfriend and boyfriend.

"Hey! I didn't know semblances were allowed! Cheaters!" Sun accused.

"Sun, Sun, sunny Sun... I just gave back the ten points you two aced." Yang smirked. "And Blake knows semblances are allowed. She just never uses hers."

"Because I play clean." Blake narrowed her eyes, causing Yang to stick her tongue out.

"Yang and I took it easy on you two. We let you make ten points and think you were going to win!"

"I want a rematch." Sun crossed his arms.

"So do I." Blake raised her hand to high five her friend.

"Okay. But if you lose again, you owe me two hundred."

"Bring it on."

The game started over, and this time both teams gave their best. It went on and on, none of them being able to keep an advantage for too long. The four were exhausted by the time both teams had aced 26. Ruby got up and walked to the court.

"Okay! We get it! You're all great and very competitive and stuff. Now get off so Ilia and I can kick Uncle Qrow and dad's butts."

And that's how the legendary game of the four best volleyball players of their group- as Weiss liked to call it- ended with a tie. She and Sun went to a kiosk to get themselves some coconut water, bickering as usual. Blake and Yang observed them with fond smiles, glad to see them back to their playful banter.

They decided to get in the water to refresh themselves a little, and Yang left her prosthetic with Blake's parents so it wouldn't get salt in it. Not that it would break, but it was a pain to get it cleaned up later. Yang really didn't want to have to do it, so she just took it off. They walked to a more secluded area of the beach, wanting to share a more intimate moment. When they got to a calmer spot, they looked at the ocean for a while. Then they went in, playfully splashing water at each other. At some point, though, water got in Blake's cat ears, which made them stop before somthing like that happened again.

The couple decided to just let the waves hit them pleasantly, and to hold each other while they did. It was unclear who kissed whom first, but they were soon making out with the the ocean and the rocks as their only witnesses. Blake's hands were on Yang's boobs as the blonde's own hand made their way to the shorter's butt. They teased and groped and moaned in each other's mouths, holding their pleasure to themselves.

Yang separated from the kiss and started sucking on Blake's pulse point. The ravenette's hands went to her girlfriend's hair, pushing her more into her neck. As she felt the tension rising, with Yang's hand traveling from her butt to her center, she tried speaking through her small moans.

"Yang... not here. Someone might show up."

Yang raised her head, and looked Blake in the eyes. "Do you really wanna stop?"

"Yes." Blake answered, pecking the blonde on the nose. "We can always finish later tonight." her voice was seductive, sending shivers down Yang's spine.

"Okay." the brawler smiled softly. "Can we... keep kissing, though?" This was one of the things Blake loved the most ablut her. Yang never pressured her, never pushed her to beyond her limits, and never did anything she didn't consent to. She was always caring and respectful, always trying to make her as comfortable as possible, if not more.

"Of course, sunshine."

And so they did, sharing soft kisses. Then harder ones. They kept going like that until the sun began to set, and the purples and oranges and pinks got their eyes. They were awestruck by the beauty of what nature was displaying right in front of their eyes. Their smiles reached their eyes, and their gazes fell back on each other. It was like the beauty of the setting sun and the rising moon was reflected in them, and they were melting and mixing with one another.

"Blake?" Yang called as the other woman rested her forehead against her own.

"Hm?"

"I love you. So much."

"I love you too, sunshine."

And with ocean kissing the sun behind them, they finished their day with a final kiss.

[wistfulcynic]

Another Brick In The Wall, Chapter 12

a/n: This one is short and sweet, just a little bit of fluff and plot development. It was going to be longer, but I decided to split it and I think you’ll understand why... 

Summary: Emma Swan, sheriff’s daughter, mayor’s niece, quarterback’s girlfriend, is the undisputed princess of Storybrooke High. She is smart and confident and used to getting what she wants. What she wants is Killian Jones, the new boy in school. But Killian is not easily manipulated, and reluctant to allow the dark secrets in his past to touch the girl he is rapidly falling in love with. Rating: T Read it on AO3: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Tags for: @darkcolinodonorgasm @jennjenn615 @hollyethecurious @resident-of-storybrooke @kmomof4 @bonbonpirate

Chapter 12: 

“Swan, I have somthing to discuss with you,” said Killian one lunchtime at the beginning of April. They were sitting outside, enjoying an early spring day that was both bright and warm; fortunately so, as neither of them was quite ready to return to the library at lunch. Emma still turned pink whenever she saw Miss French, and frankly the quiet and solitude there offered too much temptation to repeat the activities that had embarrassed them in front of her in the first place. Better to stay away from the library, and out in public. 

“That sounds ominous,” Emma replied.  

“I hope not, but it is serious. You remember I told you that I had a provisional place to study at Oxford, that I could start there next year if I got high enough AP scores?”

“Yeah,” she replied, ignoring the twist in her belly at the thought of him being so far away. They could survive a few years long-distance, she knew, she had complete faith in the strength of their relationship, but that didn’t mean she was looking forward to it. An ocean between them meant months of not seeing Killian except for his face on a screen, months of not being able to touch or hold or kiss him. As happy as they had been together over the past few weeks, that future separation loomed large and depressing.   

“Well, a few months ago Miss French suggested that maybe I might be able to stay here, in the US I mean, for university. ‘College,’ I suppose I should call it.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah. She contacted the Oxford tutor I’d been planning to work with, and he contacted a colleage of his at Harvard, and well, the gist of the tale is that they’ve offered me the same deal. Get the AP scores and I can start there next year.” 

“At Harvard?”

“Yeah.” 

“Thats— that’s fantastic!” Emma threw her arms around them, oblivious to the other students in the yard, overwhelmed by the relief and happiness surging through her.

“I’m pleased with it.” Killian smiled, returning her hug and kissing her temple as she snuggled against him, her head on his shoulder. “There is a condition, though,” he continued, “and that is for me to return to Oxford for any graduate degrees, which honestly would be my preference regardless. Oxford is really the best place to study languages on an advanced level. But the more I think about it the more I realise I’d quite like to go to an American college. At British universities you focus only on your chosen subject, but I’d like the chance to explore some other subjects besides languages.” He thought for a moment. “My maths and physics classes here have been really interesting, maybe I’ll try engineering. Or architecture. Having a hand in building something would be amazing.” 

His eyes were bright with enthusiasm, his expression open and eager, and as she listened to him she felt a rush of pure love. He was such a nerd. Oh, he hid it well behind his smart mouth and occasionally almost Brontë-level moodiness, but underneath all that he was passionately devoted to his interests, and in the end wasn’t that what made a nerd?

“Did I tell you I got into Columbia?” she asked casually. 

“Architecture might be something I could— wait, what?” 

She grinned at his delighted expression. “Got the email last week. Off the wait list and in. Mom’s thrilled, of course, and taking all the credit. Says I’m a ‘legacy.’”

“That’s nonsense, love it was all you. You’re brilliant, and amazing.” His voice brimmed with pride. 

Emma resisted the urge to point out that if anyone was brilliant and amazing it was the seventeen year old who’d secured a special deal to go to Harvard. But that would only embarrass him, and there were more important matters to discuss. “You know what this means, right?” she said eagerly. “With me in New York and you in Boston we’ll only be a few hours away on the train. We could see each other every few weeks.” 

“I’ll confess that this was not a minor factor in my decision to stay here for school,” he replied. “The idea of being an ocean away from you was not one I cared to contemplate.” 

“Me neither. Oh, this is incredible, babe, I’m so happy.” 

“As am I, love.” 

And she could see that he meant it. Although his dark cloud still sometimes fell, although the shadows occasionally still lurked behind his eyes, he was happy. They were happy, together. And she wanted more people to have a chance at what they had. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emma Swan had always known, somewhere in the recesses of her mind, that she had what any objective observer would consider a charmed life. She had been raised by loving parents in a town where everyone knew her and cared for her, and she had grown up smart and athletic, confident and charming,  pretty and popular. The circumstances of her life combined with her natural gifts had always reliably ensured that she didn’t have to work too hard for anything, and that the work she did do produced satisfactory results. She had good grades, tons of friends, and had never failed at anything she’d tried to do. 

Not that she didn’t also have her flaws. As much as she was kind, considerate, and determined, she was also complacent, shielded by privilege, stubborn, and self-satisfied in the way that only a pretty, pampered girl can be. As a result she had never really examined anything about herself or her life, never questioned her place in the world or challenged the expectations placed on her. She had led her clique, become a cheerleader, dated Neal, all because everyone else seemed to expect it, and she’d had no reason to object. She’d had no reason to ask herself if those things were actually what she wanted or simply what other people wanted for her, figuring that it didn’t really matter, everything would work out in the end. Why wouldn’t it? She was Emma Swan, after all. Things always worked out for her.

All that had changed when she’d met Killian. For the first time in her life Emma had wanted something she couldn’t have, for the first time she had found herself truly empathising with another person, putting herself in his shoes, feeling the pain that he felt. She had made the decision to put his needs first, the hardest decision of her young life, and that had changed her. Killian had changed her. By not obediently falling into line, by making her work for his trust and friendship, by calling her out for what she was and making her see that there were things in this world that didn’t simply fall into her lap because she was Emma Swan, Killian had challenged her preconceptions, broadened her horizons and made her take a hard look herself and her life, for the very first time. 

She wasn’t entirely sure she liked what she saw. It astonished her now to think, for instance, about how she’d allowed Neal to treat her, how she’d just accepted his microaggressions and petty digs like they were something normal and to be expected. She had buried her reservations, her distaste, her outright dislike of him, because of what other people had thought. Because the head cheerleader dated the quarterback, that was just how things were done, and the lack of chemistry, common interests, even basic compatibility between herself and Neal made no difference. She had come to realise, slowly and painfully, that many of things she’d thought she wanted, the things that had always come so easily to her, were perhaps not what she really wanted at all. That perhaps the things she really wanted would be harder to obtain. Like Killian. Like the future she was beginning to envision with him. 

The one thing that Emma had always known was what she wanted to do with her life was to help people, to find something she could do that would make other people’s lives better. Like her father the law enforcer, like her mother the teacher. They were leaders and guides and she admired them, wanted to be like them. But she saw now through her newly opened eyes that if she wanted to make a real difference she couldn’t live the rest of her life in a small town surrounded by people who were basically just like her. Killian had made her see that there was a great wide world beyond Storybrooke, a world full of people whose lives and experiences she couldn’t even begin to fathom. If she wanted to help them she would need to understand them, and to understand them she would need to meet them, to see firsthand what they were dealing with. 

Her parents expected her to follow the same path they had taken. And she intended to, if not quite in the way they anticipated. 

“Forensic psychology,” she said firmly, ignoring her mother’s worried brow and her father’s stern concern. “That’s what I want to do. I want to help victims of crimes, help people who suffered trauma to get their lives back, like Dr Hopper did with Killian. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time but now I’m sure. That’s what I’m going to study.” 

“But that’s… that’s years of school, isn’t it?” said Snow. “That’s advanced degrees.” 

“You have a master’s degree, Mom!” 

“Which I did online from home after working for several years! You’re talking about a PhD, that’s at least an eight year commitment before you can even get started! Do you really want to be away from Storybrooke for eight years?” 

“Yeah,” said Emma, bracing herself. “About that.” 

“About what?” asked Snow, in a voice that suggested she already knew. 

“I don’t think I’ll be coming back to live in Storybrooke anytime soon.” 

Snow closed her eyes and sighed. Somehow she’d known this was coming. 

“If I want to really help people I have to live somewhere where people need help,” said Emma. “And no offense, Dad, but SB isn’t exactly a hotbed of violent crime.” 

“Violent crime,” echoed Snow faintly. David remained silent, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Plus, Killian wants to be a linguist, and that’s not really an in-demand job here either.” 

“Is Killian behind this decision, then?” asked Snow sharply.

“Well, he is, but probably not in the way you think. He’d be happy to live anywhere I wanted. If I wanted to stay here he would find something to do.” 

“Well, then, I don’t see any reason—”

“But that’s not what I want, Mom! I don’t want to hold Killian back, I don’t want to hold myself back. And I don’t want to live forever in the small town I grew up in.” 

“But— you never said before—”

“I never actually thought about it before. But now I have and I know what I want. I want to see how other people live, and I want to learn about other ways of thinking. I don’t just want to be complacent in my little box of other people’s expectations. I want to challenge myself and find out what I’m really made of.” 

“Oh, Emma,” Snow sighed, recognising the stubborn set of her daughter’s jaw and realising that all her plans for Emma’s life were about to go up in smoke. “David, talk to her!”

David had sat silently throughout the discussion, and he considered his words carefully now before he spoke. “I’m proud of you, Emma,” he said finally. 

“David!” 

“You know that I will always support any decision you make,” David continued, placing a calming hand on Snow’s knee. “We’ve tried to raise you to make good ones, and I trust your judgement. But I admit I never expected you to make a decision like this, and I could not be more proud. You’ve chosen a path that will be hard, harder than many alternative paths you could have gone for. But I think it will be a rewarding, and more importantly a worthwhile one.” 

“But David, everything we’ve worked to give her!” cried Snow.

“We worked to give her everything we could so that she would have the freedom to live her life as she wished to,” said David. “That’s what she intends to do. We have to respect her choices, Snow.” 

Emma rose from where she had been curled up in an armchair and sat on her father’s lap, something she hadn’t done in years. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she squeezed him tightly and buried her face in his shoulder. 

“Thank you, Daddy,” she whispered. 

David squeezed her back. “I love you, Duckling,” he replied, turning his head to shoot his wife a significant look. “Snow?”

“Oh, you know I love you both,” said Snow, shifting on the sofa so she could embrace both husband and daughter. “I’d just hoped— But never mind, Emma, if this is your decision and you’re happy with it then I am happy for you.” 

Emma and David each put an arm around her, and the three of them sat that way for a long time, thinking about the future. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

One sunny afternoon in early May Killian and Emma were walking from Granny’s to the school to pick up Emma’s car which they’d left in the school lot after fencing club, preferring to walk to Granny’s and back in the warm sunshine. They walked arm-in-arm, their custom now, their strides perfectly matched and the silence between them easy and comfortable. Killian loved their comfortable silences; although when necessary he could talk with the best of them, he was not a person who was naturally inclined to a lot of noise and chatter. He preferred quiet more often than not, and always needed some peace after spending time in a noisy environment, even one he enjoyed like a concert or open mic, or a rowdy family dinner of the sort he and Emma seemed to find themselves at every weekend these days. He loved that they could just be together, just enjoy each other’s company without needing to fill the silence with talk. Her presence calmed his often turbulent mind, made him feel grounded and happy, and even better, content. He didn’t think he’d ever known simple contentment before in all his life and he treasured it.

Yet that afternoon the silence would have to be broken. 

“Swan,” he said. 

“Hmmm?” Emma was clearly still caught up in whatever thoughts she’d been thinking before he spoke. 

“What are you thinking about?” He was suddenly curious to know what had put that little smile on her face, and what he had to say could wait. 

“Just thinking about this summer. School’s going to be over soon. Do you think you’ll get a job?”

“I have one already. I’m going to be helping Liam with some work at the docks, and also it seems I’ll be tutoring your cousin Henry in maths.” 

“Yeah, he told me. Would you call that a real job, though?” 

“It’s real pay, Swan. Quite a bit of it, actually, your aunt is very determined for him to succeed. And hark at you, daughter of a teacher, thinking tutoring’s not a real job! What would your mother say?”

“Ha ha. I just meant it can’t be many hours.”

“Three per week, which I suppose isn’t many as far as jobs go but is at least two and a half more than Henry would prefer.”

“He’s such a smart kid, but hopeless at math. He’ll keep you on your toes.” 

“I’ll be prepared. I assume you’re asking me about this because you have a job of your own?”

“Yeah, I’m going to be working at the ice cream shop. They have extended summer hours and they get really busy. And my dad says I can shadow one of his deputies a couple of days a week. He says if I’m going to be working with law enforcers, even as a psychologist, I should know what they do from the ground up.” 

“That sounds like a solid plan.” 

“And it will leave plenty of time for us to do stuff together,” she said, pulling her arm from his so she could wrap it around his waist and lean her head on his shoulder. He draped his own arm around her waist, his hand casually on her hip, brushing a kiss over her hair as they continued to walk, their movements so in sync that their pace never faltered. Killian smiled to himself. As wonderful as the comfortable silence was, the casual intimacy might be even better. That he could touch her freely and she him was one of the great joys of his life. 

“I very much look forward to hearing about these summer activities that I can tell you’re planning, love, but I have a more immediate concern that we need to discuss.” 

“Oh? And what’s that?” 

“You have to promise not to laugh.” 

She was indignant. “Killian Jones, when have I ever laughed at you?”

“You laugh at me all the time!” 

“I laugh with you, which is not the same. You can’t blame me for laughing when you’re trying to be funny!” 

“All right, I suppose that’s fair. But this time—” 

“I promise not to laugh, Killian.”

He nodded. “Good. Well. Okay.” He drew a deep breath. “God, I feel like a right git asking this, these are words that I never in all my life thought I’d need to say, but… well, um…” 

“Spit it out, Jones, I’m losing my will to live here,” teased Emma, burying her grin in his shoulder. She was pretty sure she knew what was coming, and despite her promise was very tempted to laugh at him. After all his snarky comments about American high school clichés he was finally being forced to eat his words. 

“Are you really going to make me say it, Swan?”

“I absolutely am, and also I have no idea what you’re talking about. Did you have something you wanted to ask me?”

He groaned, and she swallowed a giggle. 

“Fine,” he grumbled, “though I think that if you really loved me you wouldn’t put me through this.” 

“Love is pain, babe, isn’t that what Fergie sang?”

“Another right git, so the quote seems apt. Okay, look. Emma. Will you— oh, God, I absolutely cannot say it!” 

“Yes you can, and you’d better or I’ll go with someone else! Surely you don’t think you’re the only one who’s asked me. Or hasn’t asked me, in your case.”

“Someone’s asked you to the prom behind my back?” he snarled, bristling in indignation. “Who? Tell me so I can flatten the bastard.” 

“Asked me to the what now?” She blinked at him, eyes wide and innocent.

The look on his face was priceless. “Bloody hell, I walked right into that one, didn’t I?” 

“For a smart guy you are so dumb sometimes. Just ask me, it’s not like you don’t know the answer.” 

He shot her a smirk that was second cousin to a leer. “I would never consider you a foregone conclusion, my darling.” 

“Just ask me, Killian!” 

“Argh! Fine! Emma, will you go to the prom with me?”

“Yes, of course I will. I thought you’d never ask. Like, literally, never.”

Further notes: Yes, we will see them go to the ball prom. Naturally.