#Killian playing music at family events | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

teamhook · 3 years

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Hello! Well, this is it! The conclusion of my gift to @hookedonapirate for her birthday. I really hope you like it.

It was a little difficult to write after losing my mom but I did it.

Thanks to my lovely beta @ultraluckycatnd and the csmm discord ladies that listen to my crazyness.

FFN

AO3

Killian goes back to his hotel heartbroken and decides to call his brother to let him know he had arrived early to the city. “Liam, I’m here. Just give me a call when you get this.”

Killian looks out the window. His hotel is not five-star, but it’s a lot better than spending the night in a cramped van with the band like he did all those years ago. He still remembers the night he told his brother he was leaving the band behind.

Killian yelled at Liam after yet another argument over Emma. “ What's the point in singing, Liam? She's not going to hear me.”

Liam’s words still ring in his mind mocking him. “Little brother, do you remember what Da used to say about princesses?”

Killian scoffed. “Liam, how many times do I have to remind you not to call me that!”

“Well, let me remind you. They're always looking for their prince. I hate to tell you this, but you ain't no prince, Brother.” Liam said.

Blue makes a call to the dean at Juilliard and arranges a special audition for Hope.

The auditorium is quiet as the prestigious school's faculty seat themselves and wait for the musical genius Blue had promised them.

Hope immediately impresses them with her natural talent.

The dean quickly approaches Blue. "Blue, you brought us a prodigy," he says.

"She is an angel," Blue says affectionately as she poses her question. “Please tell me you have a space for her?”

“She is a talented young lady. We can offer her a scholarship, but she will need to maintain good grades.”

“I’m sure she will; she has a very strong connection to the music she plays,” Blue says as her eyes land on Hope, who is happily flipping through some music sheets.

Hope became the star protege of the prestigious school within hours of her admittance. Her audition had bewitched the faculty and when asked where the music had come from, she said it was the music in her heart. The dean had asked if she would like to perform the piece for an event at the park in a couple of months. Hope simply asked if there would be a lot of people at the event to hear her, to which the quick reply was a yes. Hope's plan to have her music lead to her parents was squashed the moment Walsh walked into the school a few weeks later, claiming to be her father.

Reluctantly, the dean lets her leave with him since Hope did not deny the parentage. Hope worries he had hurt Henry trying to find out where she was, so she goes willingly as her heart breaks at the loss of the chance to find her family. If only she had a little bit more time.

It didn't take long for Walsh to have her back performing at the park as “Odette”. Walsh had decided to keep her apart from Henry since the boy had refused to share her location right after he met back up with him and the flock of lost kids.

After one of Odette's performances a few weeks later, she sits down on the park bench and strums the guitar sadly. Today was supposed to be the day of her performance. Instead of playing in front of thousands of people, she performed for about twenty people to earn a quick buck.

A man sits next to her and smiles. "Hello, you are a very talented lass," he says as he points to the guitar. "May I borrow it for a tick?"

Hope knows she shouldn't because Walsh will be angry, but the man seems nice. She hands him the guitar.

The man plays the strings gently.

Hope grins. "You are talented, too."

"Ah, thank you. I was in a band with my brother when we were young, and we haven't performed in a long time until recently. My name is Killian Jones, and it has been a pleasure talking to you."

She smiles and extends her hand. "My name is Hope, not lass."

"You have a lovely name. I thought your name was Odette, or is that just your stage name?"

"Yeah," she says as she scrunches her nose.

Killian can't help but snort; she is a lovely young girl. Her parents must be so proud. He notices a sadness in her eyes. "You look sad. I know if I had your talent, I would be very happy. You are natural," he says as he continues strumming the guitar slowly and then returns it to Hope. He pulls out an old guitar from the case he was carrying. He starts playing a soft melody that’s familiar to the young girl, though she doesn't remember ever hearing it. She joins him in the impromptu performance. A small crowd gathers around them and applauds as they finish.

The song ends, and Hope smiles widely at him. "I'm supposed to be performing for Juilliard at the Park, but I can't go," she says, defeated.

Killian's brow raises. "Hope, if it was me, I wouldn't let anything stop me. You should perform. Don't let anyone stop you from making your dreams a reality."

With those words of encouragement, Killian puts his guitar away and leaves the girl after leaving a hefty tip for her.

Hope finds strength in his words and decides she is going to perform and if the stars align in her favor, she will make her dream of finding her family a reality.

Hope grabs the guitar case from the floor where it has been collecting the tips from the crowd, but instead of going to the meeting place with Walsh, she makes her way to the stage that is not far from her.

Walsh had decided to keep an eye on the girl. He couldn't let her get away; she was his meal ticket. He notices that she is walking in the wrong direction, so he increases his efforts to catch up with her. He has seen the signs all over the park, the New York Philharmonic and Juilliard were presenting Music Under the Stars.

Walsh stops her as he yanks on the guitar case on her back. "Hope, wait." He takes a breath as her eyes widen with his presence.

"Hope, did you know music is a series of high tones arranged by nature? It's governed by the laws of physics of the universe. It's energy, a wavelength that you need to hear and for some unknown reason, you can. Why do you think that is?"

Hope can't help smiling. "Because it comes from my parents. They are the reason I can hear the music. I have to go."

Walsh shakes his head. "To this special concert? Do you really think your parents will hear you?

"Yes, because the thing I want the most is to be found. I do have a family."

He laughed. "Yes, you have parents, but they didn’t want you. Go to your concert, but all my money's on the fact your folks won't be able to find you. Do you know why? Because they can't hear you. If you were my kid, I would have found you and I know you will come back when there is no happy ending; no loving family waiting for you."

"You are lying! My parents will hear me and find me!" She takes off running in the direction of the concert stage.

She runs and manages to arrive at the section of the park the concert is at. She remembers the dean at Juilliard telling her about the concert.

“Hope, the New York Philharmonic Orchestra will be having a concert in a few months. We have never had a student as young as yourself perform in the history of this school. We've asked them if they could perform your rhapsody. Would you like that?"

Hope's eyes shined with excitement at the prospect of playing in a concert. "How many people will hear it?" she asked.

"It's a popular event. I supposed a lot of people will be there. It would be performed in Central Park, on the Great Lawn. Hope, three artists will be performing before you. How does the music come to you?"

Hope shrugged. "I just hear it. It's always there. I hear it when I'm walking down the street. It's like someone's calling out to me and when I write it down, it's like I'm calling back to them."

"Who?" he asked curiously.

"The ones who gave me the music."

Killian is about to give up in his search for Emma, but as Liam drives him to the airport, they pass the park.

Liam huffs. "Bloody hell, it never fails. Every year it jams up the traffic. Does it bring back memories of the old days, eh, Killian?"

"What's that?"

Liam rolls his eyes. "The blasted concerts in the Park every spring."

The car barely moves because of the traffic. Killian notices a sign with Emma's name on it. She is one of the performers. It has to be the same one the young girl told him about.

"Liam, stop the bloody car!" Killian yells.

Liam stops the car, barely getting out of traffic. "Killian, what are you doing?" he asks when Killian opens the door to the car and jumps out.

Killian takes off running, hoping that he hasn't missed Emma's performance.

Emma stuck around after her performance. There was food and it was such a lovely night. Music has always made her feel better. She worries for her daughter so much and often gazes on the photo she got from Mr. Wilde's office. Her little girl is perfect, just like she thought she'd be.

Emma heard the dean of her old school mention a talented young girl, but had opted not to name the prodigy due to the possibility of her not being able to perform.

The show was a hit so far and as things slow down, the dean takes the stage.

"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for coming out tonight. Music has always fascinated us in the way that it communicates. There is no need for words or pictures. That leads us to our final performance of the night. Unfortunately, our last performer seems to have..."

He is interrupted by one of the teachers pulling Hope into view. "She's here. She's here."

The dean sighs in relief. "Perhaps there's no one else who can better personify the mystery that is music than our final performer, Hope Swan!"

Hope gets on the stage with a nervous smile as she sees the crowd.

Emma looks up at the stage. Did they say Hope Swan? Is it possible it’s her kid? Her heart starts beating frantically as she makes her way to the stage.

Killian rushes through the park as a melody starts playing.

Once the couple is about to reach the stage on opposite sides, Hope smiles widely at them as she feels the music flow through her.

Emma and Killian see each other and they drift to each other. Once they are within reach, they hold hands.

Emma tells Killian about their daughter, the same girl on stage. She explains to him that her grandfather did the unthinkable but in the end, helped lead her to Hope. They approach Hope once her performance is over.

Hope can't help her excitement. She found them; she knows it in her heart that they are her parents. Once they find the words and confirm what her heart already knew, they quickly leave the park.

Killian never leaves New York now that he has found his family. Liam is happy for his little brother and is stunned to find out he is an uncle, but is overjoyed at the reconnection with Elsa.

Hope tells them about Henry and Walsh. They inform Merlin that Hope was found and is finally with her family. Merlin gets the police involved about Walsh's operation and they soon find him and arrest him. The kids are put back in foster care. Hope asks her parents if Henry can be her brother because he protected her. Emma quickly takes a liking to the kid when they meet. They foster him and eventually adopt him.

In the end, they become the family that Hope always wanted. She finally found her family.

Her family is reunited and whole.

The music is all around us. All you have to do is listen.

tagging:

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#Captain Swan #cs ff

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searchingwardrobes · 3 years

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Not the Type - 6/8

Finally! A new update :) Sorry for the delay, but the muse has been fickle as of late. In this chapter, Emma has her first competition of the season, and it's psyching her out. Will Killian be her encouragement, or will she push him away in the midst of it all? This chapter includes another iconic scene from the movie, when Torrance dances around her room to Cliff's song. I wanted to use the actual lyrics to the song, but in looking at it, there were a few lines that bothered me. One literally says "I'd bring you flowers every day just to roll you in the hay." And then there's a constant refrain that says "I'll make you mine." Those lines just don't seem to jive for me with Killian's character when in canon he specifically tells David that he doesn't see Emma as loot and tells Emma that he will win her heart, but not through any trickery. We know he isn't the kind of guy to give a woman flowers in order to manipulate her into sleeping with him. We also know how much agency means to him, so I didn't think telling Emma in song "I'll make you mine" fit either. Anyways, that's a long way of explaining that the lyrics are 99% like the ones in the movie, minus those two parts.

Massive thanks to my beta, @hookedonapirate who takes my confusing sentences and makes them sound purty ;) You’re the best! And thanks also to the @captainswanmoviemarathon for putting together this event and being massively supportive and patient.

Summary: Emma Swan first notices him in the stands at the Friday night football game. She can tell right away Killian Jones is not the football type. Then again, she’s not the cheerleader type either, but here she is with pom poms. Life hasn’t ever gone the way Emma planned. Lately, that’s actually been a good thing. Maybe Killian Jones is a good thing, too.

My loose Captain Swan AU of the movie Bring it On

Rated: T

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @kmomof4 @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @xhookswenchx @teamhook @let-it-raines @winterbythesea @spartanguard @shireness-says @superchocovian @thesschesthair @resident-of-storybrooke @vvbooklady1256 @hookedonapirate @ultraluckycatnd @hollyethecurious @welllpthisishappening @wellhellotragic @bethacaciakay @optomisticgirl @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @ekr032-blog-blog @itsfabianadocarmo @profdanglaisstuff @thisonesatellite @winterbaby89 @tiganasummertree @xsajx @jennjenn615 @zaharadessert @stahlop @scientificapricot @thislassishooked @kday426 @ultraluckycatnd @carpedzem @ohmakemeahercules @branlovestowrite @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @snidgetsafan @lassluna

The room was thick with hair spray, and Emma and the rest of the Storybrooke Knights Cheerleaders were sucking on orange slices. Except for Ruby who was touching up her blood red lipstick in front of one of the mirrors propped up on the classroom’s smart board.

“I think they’re red enough already, Ruby,” Coach Ava remarked as she sprayed more Aquanet all over her daughter’s hair. MM was having to wear a hair extension so she didn’t look out of place with their “hair” theme, and Coach was paranoid it was going to go flying across the gym floor during their routine. Emma wasn’t sure hairspray worked that way, but she wasn’t about to say so.

Ruby smacked her lips together with a loud pop. “The redder the better, I say. I want them to see my smile.”

She turned to the rest of the group and flashed a toothy grin. They all laughed, and Belle grimaced.

“More like a predator about to devour her prey.”

Ruby winked at Belle and growled, resulting in more laughter. Coach Ava rolled her eyes as she capped the hairspray. “Just don’t get it all over your teeth, okay Lucas?”

“No worries, Coach, it’s that long-lasting stuff that isn’t supposed to come off.”

“So why did you need fifty coats?” Tiana quipped.

They were all still laughing when a woman wearing a t-shirt that read, East Maybrook Invitational and holding an ipad poked her head into the classroom. “Storybrooke High in the hole!”

The girls all stood, gathering up their things, tossing orange peels into the trash bins and giving their hair and make up one last glance in the mirror. They followed the woman in the official t-shirt down two hallways to East Maybrook High’s cafeteria where cheer mats had been set up in the same configuration as on the performance floor. The girls took their places as if they were really performing, and marked out the routine while Coach Ava counted out the beats. If something went wrong with the music, they would have to keep going. They only pantomimed doing the stunts, however, not wanting to risk a last minute injury.

After running through the routine, a nervous silence fell among them. Some girls stretched, others did a few jumps, or even a back handspring. Anything to handle their nervous energy. Emma bounced on the balls of her feet, heart pounding in her chest more than usual. A phone call had followed the letter: someone from the UK cheer staff would be in the stands today.

And she still hadn’t told her friends about it.

“Storybrooke High on deck!”

The girls gave each other nervous glances and clasped hands in little groups as they followed the woman out of the cafeteria doors. Emma had Ruby on her left and Mary Margaret on her right, their arms threaded together. For once, Ruby was quiet.

As they neared the gym, the girls could hear the familiar sounds of competition: loud music, an announcer's voice, shouts as the audience cheered for the cheerleaders for once. It made the adrenaline pump even harder. It usually was at this moment that Emma went into her competitive “zone” where everything around her went fuzzy and her mind became laser focused on the routine and what she had to do. Today, however, she felt like she was on sensory overload, unable to turn off all the sights, sounds, and smells around her.

Before she could even process everything, Storybrooke was being announced to the crowd. Emma ran out onto the floor with a huge smile, cheers, and fist pumps for the crowd, but it felt like she was outside of herself, watching. She took her place on the floor, standing in prep, her arms straight at her sides and her head down. Her fists were clenched, and she tried to control the nervous tremors coursing through her as she waited for their music to start.

A synth-pop remix of “Hair” from the Broadway musical started to play, and the Storybrooke Knights whipped their ponytails as they started their back handspring/back tuck peel-offs. Coach Ava always said that the music needed to appeal to every generation represented in the judge’s panel as well as the crowd, and as Emma flawlessly landed her tumbling pass to roaring applause, she saw the two boomer judges smiling and bopping to the music.

She reprimanded herself for looking at the judges as she jogged across the floor for her next tumbling pass. Nevertheless, she scanned the crowd just before she started her pass, wondering where that UK recruiter was. It was the most difficult pass in the entire routine: a back handspring into an arabian, then a double whip into a full twisting double back. She hesitated, stumbling, before getting started because of her distraction, and by the time she did her second whip, she had a sinking feeling. Sure enough, when she landed her double back, she was way out of bounds. She didn’t need the loud buzzer from the line judge to alert her to the fact. She gritted her teeth in frustration, but then remembered to fake a smile as she got into the dance formation. Her face ached from her forced smile as she swung her hips to the rhythm of “Whip My Hair.”

Emma’s next mistake came in the squad’s first pyramid. It felt like she had a weight attached to her ankle, and she couldn’t lift her leg as high as she normally did to connect to Mary Margaret’s stunt group to her left. She almost lost her balance completely, but Ruby compensated and saved it. Mary Margaret didn’t falter either, thank God. Emma was practically shaking as she went into the twist up stunt - her nemesis in this routine. Kelly Rowland singing “Crown” as Emma popped up, her hand grasping her ponytail, helped her power through, as cheesy as it sounded.

Despite the mistakes Emma was berating herself for, the crowd was going crazy for the combination of the theme, the music, and the cool tricks. By the end, the entire gymnasium was on its feet with thunderous applause. Emma ended the routine seated on the mat, back to the audience with her head flung back. Since she saw them all upside down, she couldn’t pick out her family or anyone in Kentucky blue.

Ruby yanked Emma to her feet, screaming loud enough to shatter her eardrums. Mary Margaret and Ariel sandwiched her in a hug, and then they were swept away by the rest of their ecstatic teammates.

“Amazing job, girls!” Coach Ava praised, gathering them in a big, squirming, awkward group hug. “Mary Margaret didn’t even lose her hair!’’

They all laughed giddily, except for Emma. Her mind was reeling. “I went out of bounds,” she confessed.

Coach Ava waved off her words. “It’s our first competition. It’s normal for there to be kinks to work out. Let’s not worry about that until the next practice, though. For now, let’s just celebrate a solid opening for the season.”

Her teammates seemed to all be in agreement, and so did the judges, awarding The Storybrooke Knights with a third place finish. It wasn’t their best opening - that had been last year’s first place trophy to kick off the season - but making the top three was the goal of every top squad right out of the gate. Even the UK recruiter had congratulated her on a solid routine.

“I could see the nerves a bit,” she told Emma, her smile kind and reassuring, “but the level of tumbling skill you possess is rare. Top five I’ve seen so far, no doubt about it. We’ll definitely be in touch.”

Emma, however, couldn’t shake the feeling of failure that clung to her.

“I’m blown away, Swan, that was amazing!”

Emma was in Killian’s arms before she could even register that he’d rushed out of the bleachers and onto the floor to greet her. He brushed a kiss to her cheek and deposited a bouquet of white daisies into her arms.

“It wasn’t amazing,” Emma whispered, staring down at the white flowers.

“Come now, don’t be modest.” Killian’s grin conveyed giddy pride in her which she found inexplicably annoying.

“I stepped out of bounds on my big tumbling pass, I almost took down our first pyramid, and I was shaky on every single stunt!”

Killian’s eyes narrowed. “Your team doesn’t seem put out with you.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “They’re being nice. If we hadn’t placed, it would have been a different story. It would have all been my fault.”

“Whatever happened to the whole we win as a team, we fail as a team thing?”

“My team relies on me keeping my head on straight!” Her voice had risen, and she slashed the air with the bouquet of flowers. White petals fluttered to the gym floor.

Killian cocked his head and studied her. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Nothing!”

“It’s something, Swan.”

He stepped forward, reaching for her, but she stepped out of his reach.

“I just let everyone down, but no one will be straight with me. Why can’t you all just admit I screwed up today?”

Killian shook his head. “I don’t think you’re seeing things clearly. I saw an amazingly talented athlete today, Swan. You were amazing.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. Of course you’d say that. You’re a high school guy. You’ll say anything you have to to get in a cheerleader’s panties.”

Killian’s eyes widened and his head jerked back as if she’d slapped him. “You really think so little of me?”

She tilted her chin. “I’m no fool. Did you think tonight would be the night? Show up to my little competition, compliment me, throw in some flowers, and I’d spread my legs for you?”

Killian backed away, his jaw clenching, nostrils flaring. “I’m going to assume you don’t mean any of that, Emma, so I’m walking away before either of us can say anything we might regret.”

“Fine!” she yelled as he turned and walked toward the gym doors. “Walk away! That’s what every guy does when a girl won’t put out.” She threw the flowers at his retreating form. She watched the white petals swirl through the air and the green stems hit the parquet floor with a soft swish and crinkle of cellophane wrapper.

“Emma!”

She whirled around to see Ruth standing there, frown upon her face and her brow furrowed. David stood next to her, his arms crossed in disapproval. Nearby a cluster of her teammates stared as if she’d morphed into some mythological creature with two heads. Her face burned as she realized how loudly she’d yelled at her boyfriend.

Probably ex-boyfriend now.

Humiliated, she turned and fled, fingers pressed to her flaming cheeks.

*********************************************

“Go away,” Emma muttered into her pillow.

“What if I were Mom with a plate of brownies?”

Emma grabbed a teddy bear, clutching two tiny red pom poms (a gift from Ruth after last year’s state championship win), and smacked her brother in the head with it. She glared at him through one eye, the rest of her face still smashed into the pillow.

“I knew it was you because you crashed down on my bed hard enough to catapult me out the window. Ruth’s more subtle.”

David just laughed as he rubbed at his cheek where the bear had met his face.

“Go away,” she repeated, turning her face fully into the pillow again.

“You left your phone downstairs.”

“So?”

“So, you have like fifty text messages and thirty missed calls.”

Emma rolled over, still clutching her pillow to her chest. “Well, he’s persistent, I’ll give him that.”

“It wasn’t just Killian. Your entire team is worried about you.”

“Because I choked?”

“Because you're delusional,” David shot back with equal parts humor and frustration. “You didn’t choke. You didn’t let any of us down. You didn’t give a lousy performance, or any of a thousand other ridiculous claims you’ve made in the past few hours.”

Emma turned to look at her brother. “I made mistakes, David.”

He shrugged. “Who doesn’t? It was one competition, Emma, not the Olympics. It wasn’t even the state championships or regionals. One. Competition. At some tiny high school in the middle of nowhere, Maine.”

Emma groaned as she pushed herself up to the headboard and let her head drop to David’s shoulder. He put his arm around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Kentucky?”

Emma sighed. When the recruiter had called, she insisted on speaking to Ruth as well. Emma should have known she would spill the beans to her son, especially after Emma acted like a complete lunatic.

Yes, a delusional lunatic. Her brother wasn’t wrong.

“I don’t know, it was just . . . a lot to process. And a lot rides on this. I mean, there aren’t any football recruiters looking at you, which means college is gonna be expensive, Mr. Quarterback. If my tuition is taken care of, Ruth can just worry about you.”

“I could get other scholarships.”

“You’re a white, middle class male. You aren't getting any other scholarships.”

He chuckled and poked her in the ribs. “Regardless of all that, Mom just wants what’s best for you. We’ll figure out college and the money and all that, but we’ll do it together. That’s what a family does. Okay?”

This family thing was still new for Emma, so she just nodded in agreement against David’s shoulder.

“But speaking of Killian,” David said, waving her phone in front of her face, “some of these calls and texts are from him. He sent you a video, too. Then called me and pretty much begged me to get you to watch it, so just give him that much, okay? So he’ll leave me alone?”

Emma rolled her eyes as she took the phone. David could protest all he wanted, but she knew about the little bromance he had with her boyfriend.

She waited until her brother went downstairs before she sat cross-legged in the center of her bed and pulled up the video from Killian. She gnawed on her bottom lip nervously before pressing “play.”

And there Killian was, on the tiny screen, smiling like they’d never had a fight. Emma’s lips pulled up into a grin of her own. He was also holding his guitar in his lap and fidgeting.

“Hi, Emma,” he said with a nervous little wave. “You’ve been ignoring all my calls and texts, so I decided to pull out the big guns. I was gonna give this to you as a gift for like Valentine’s Day or something, but . . . you know . . . desperate times call for desperate measures.”

He cleared his throat and shifted again, and Emma blinked back tears. She’d never seen him at such a loss for words.

“I wrote you a song,’ he continued, “so, I’ll just shut up and sing it already.”

Emma gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as he began to strum his electric. It started

out as a kind of slow, cheeky punk rock ballad.

Oh, Emma, I don’t get your cheerleading squad, but I love your pom-poms. I'd feed you bon-bons all night.

Then it transitioned into a full on rock song, and Killian began to shred on his guitar. He was really good, and the song had Emma bobbing her head to the music.

1,2,3,4. Yeah, you got me to feel all those butterflies inside. In your locker I would hide. The truth, it's only you I see, and you're just what I need. I'll bring you flowers all the time in hopes that you’ll be mine. Well I'm feelin' fine, I'm right on time. I hope I’ll win your heart.

When he transitioned into the chorus, Emma leapt up from her bed. She propped her phone on her nightstand and began to dance around the room to Killian’s song.

And you're just what I need. And you're just what I need. Not everything works as it seems. Is that so hard to believe? So I went down to the record store. Picked my head up off the floor. The truth, it's only you I see. And you're just what I need. And if it's my world that you fear, let me make this very clear. Well I'm feelin' fine, I'm right on time. I hope I’ll win your heart. And you're just what I need.

The chorus repeated a couple more times, and Emma danced around her room like she hadn’t in a long time. She even grabbed an old pair of pom poms she’d gotten as a joke at the squad’s white elephant Christmas party. They were those enormous pom poms cheerleaders used to wave in the long ago days of letter sweaters and megaphones. They made a fun swishing sound as she bounced around the room to Killian’s song.

A song he’d written for her! A song about her! If she wasn’t so giddy and happy, she would burst into tears.

When the song ended, Emma collapsed onto her bed, panting from her ridiculous dance party and grinning ear to ear. She rolled over and grabbed her phone. She texted rapidly, her fingers trembling.

I watched your song.

Did you like it?

I LOVED it!

Good. I meant every word.

I’m sorry.

I know.

#cs ff #captain swan movie marathon #csmm #bring it on au #lieutenant duckling #high school au

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reidingandwriting · 4 years

Text

5 Times Tony Wasn’t There for You, and 1 Time He Was

Word Count: ~3200 words

Ship: Tony Stark x Daughter!Reader, Peter Parker x Stark!Daughter (Platonic), Lots of IronFam ft. the Parkers

Warnings: Probably some swearing, not completely movie compliant but follows the general timeline ❤ Kinda unrelated gif (kind of related if you pay attention) but look how CUTE Morgan and Tony are

✨ Masterlist ✨

-One-

As the young daughter of Tony Stark, you were used to your dad being busy with work. Meetings across the country, dinners with royal dignitaries across the globe, or simply just endless hours spent locked in his office. All of this before he went missing for three months and came back as Iron Man.

It was your sixth birthday and Tony had planned the perfect birthday party for you, with Pepper’s and Happy’s help of course. You had recently developed an intense fascination with marine life, so what better way for you and your family to celebrate your birthday then spending the day at the aquarium? He even splurged a little extra to convince the owners of the aquarium for you to have a sleepover under the sea. But the night before your party, Tony told you he had to leave for a little while. “It’s okay, Daddy.” You said, with the most innocent smile on your face. “Can we have some of my birthday cake tonight?” And how could Tony say no to that? After birthday cake and being tucked into bed, Tony flew off in his suit for one of the first of many times.

“Pepper, Pepper, Pepper!” You ran down the hall of your Malibu mansion, Happy trailing behind you. You launched yourself at Pepper, your little arms wrapping around her legs. “Is it time to see the fish?” Pepper scooped you into her arms and you settled on her hip, your face nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

“It’s almost time! Are all the bags packed?” Pepper looked up at Happy, who nodded.

“And in the car, ready whenever we leave.” Pepper smiled gratefully at Happy.

“Wait! Forgot something, down please.” Pepper set you down and you ran off towards your room.

“Thank you again, Happy. You know you don’t have to stay with us-“

“I want to.” Happy interjected. “What can I say? The kid’s grown on me.” The sound of your footsteps grew louder as you entered the living room a minute later, your stuffed bear and wad of black fabric in your arms.

“What’s that, Y/N?” Pepper tilted her head as you held out the material.

“You know Teddy, and this is Daddy’s favorite shirt. He’s not here, so Teddy can wear his shirt. Almost like he is there!” Pepper bit her lip and plastered on a smile she hoped looked half as happy as yours.

“Just like he’s there, huh? Come on, let’s go to the car. I bet the fish are so excited to see you.”

-Two-

After Tony had taken down Obadiah, who you totally never trusted by the way, and had the press conference where he announced he was Iron Man, things started to go back to normal. Well, as normal as anything involving Tony Stark can be. You spent time with your dad in the garage as he worked on suit upgrades, and DUM-E seemed extra chipper (and klutzy) while you were around. Your Uncle Rhodey visited more frequently and everything was good. Life was good, until recently.

For the last few weeks, your dad had been acting different. “Your dad’s under a lot of stress right now, Y/N. He’s okay.” Pepper would repeat this to you every time you asked. Natalie’s addition to Stark Industries provided a distraction for you, and you found yourself growing close to the red head.

Your dad, Pepper, Happy, and Natalie were in Monaco and you were left at home with Rhodey. You stood in the dark hall of your house, your Uncle Rhodey seated on the couch in the living room. The television lit up the room, and you slowly tip-toed to the couch. The blanket you held in your hand dragged against the floor as you climbed onto the couch.

“Hey, kiddo. What are you doing up so late?” Rhodey wrapped his arm around you and covered your body with your blanket.

“Lonely. Miss everyone.” You nestled into Rhodey’s side and your eyes glued to the television. “Boring movie, Uncle Rhodey.” Rhodey laughed and looked at you.

“And what do you want to watch, little miss? Let me guess, Tangled?” You nodded quickly and sent a dimpled smile up at your uncle.

“Please?” Rhodey groaned dramatically before he started the movie, and you giggled happily. And if Rhodey sang the songs with you, that was no one’s business but yours.

-Three-

You had hoped after the events in New York, with the team called the Avengers and their battle with Loki, things would go back to normal. Boy, were you wrong. You were on a plane with Pepper when you saw the footage of your dad flying into a wormhole, and it wasn’t until you were back in Malibu before you saw him again. Tears were shed and an endless amount of hugs were given when you were reunited.

The changes in your dad’s behavior were subtle in the beginning. Loud noises would startle him much easier than before, and he spent less time sleeping and double the amount of time in the garage working on his suits. When he did sleep, his dreams were plagued with nightmares. On those nights, he’d check on you multiple times before morning came. “Have to make sure my best girl’s okay.” Tony would say on the rare chance you were awake before he went back to the garage to work for hours until sunrise, where he’d repeat the cycle again. Work with Stark Industries, work at home, and maybe get a few hours of sleep.

Your dad’s PTSD got worse with each day that passed; throw in Happy being hospitalized, your Uncle Rhodey’s Iron Patriot makeover, and Pepper’s meeting with Aldrich Killian, Tony was a mess. And the threat of the Mandarin was the breaking point. “Come and find me. 10880 Malibu Point, 90265.” When Pepper heard the news, she told you to pack a bag, Christmas was going to take place as far from Malibu as possible. You stood in your bedroom, JARVIS playing Christmas music as you finished packing when you heard your dad, Pepper, and another woman yelling. You walked to the door and outstretched your hand, your fingertips brushing the handle when the first explosion went off. You went flying into your bedroom wall, and your world went dark.

When you woke up again, you were hit with the news. The only home you had known was reduced to rubble, your dad was missing, presumed to be dead by the media, and your life as you knew it was over. You and Pepper had joined the unknown woman, known as Maya, to get the hell out of there.

On Christmas Eve, you sat on your hotel bed, soft Christmas music playing in the room. You held your dad’s helmet in your lap, it being the closest it could be to having your dad with you. Pepper took a seat beside you, and you kept your gaze down, eyes glued to the helmet rested in your lap.

“How are you holding up?” Pepper’s voice was quiet, hesitant. She was especially cautious with you for the last few days, afraid to further upset you. You couldn’t even count how many times you burst into tears out of nowhere, but you always had Pepper to lean on. Like now, as you leaned your head on her shoulder.

“I just want my dad home.” Your voice cracked as the familiar sting in your eyes returned. You blinked rapidly as you tried not to cry again today. You picked up the helmet and hugged it to your chest. “I want to be on the couch, watching Home Alone, drinking hot chocolate. I want to be home. I miss him, Pepper.” Pepper’s shoulders shook as she tried not to cry, and she hugged you close.

‘Me too, kid. I miss him too.’

-Four-

After everything died down with the Mandarin, your dad returned to the Stark Tower you now called home. It took a while to settle in, even longer with the Avengers frequenting the space, but you had your family- your dad, Pepper, Happy, and Rhodey. Even JARVIS in his own special way was an important part of your life and family. But history has a way of repeating itself. Right as you developed a new routine and sense of normalcy, shit hits the fan. This time it was Ultron.

~~~

You were seated beside Maria as you and the team were on the balcony after one of your dad’s parties. You watched in amusement as Clint, your father, Rhodey, and Steve attempted to lift Mjolnir to no avail. The group talked and laughed, until the battle with Ultron started.

“Hill! Get Y/N out of here, now!” Tony yelled.

“Dad, no!” You started to go after your dad, and Maria grabbed your arm.

“Y/N. You can’t fight with them. I need to get you out of here, please don’t make me carry you.” You paused before nodding, and you followed Maria to safety. Hours later, you were on the phone with your dad.

“I’m sorry, kid. I only have a minute until I have to go off the grid.” Your eyes burned as you blinked away tears. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

“You promise? All in one piece?” You asked

“Maybe two.” You choked out a tearful laugh at your dad’s answer and took a deep breath.

“I love you, Dad. Please, be safe.”

“I promise.”

~~~

You woke up with a gasp and clutched at your chest as you caught your breath. You flipped your phone over, three in the morning.

“Miss Stark?” FRIDAY, your dad’s new AI, asked. Before the first fight with Ultron, JARVIS had been pretty much destroyed. Then FRIDAY was born. “Your heart rate has greatly increased and your oxygen levels have slightly decreased. Shall I call Ms. Potts for medical attention?”

“No, no, no. No, please. I’m okay, just... a bad dream is all. Nothing new.” You grabbed your cup of water that sat on the nightstand and took a large gulp, and tried to calm yourself down. You also turned on your lamp, the small bulb casting a warm glow around you.

“Do you frequently have nightmares, Miss Stark?”

“Y/N, please. Sometimes. Usually my dad is here and he helps me calm down. He’d sit with me; sometimes we’d watch the TV for a while, or he’d read to me until I fell asleep again.“ You pulled your blanket closer to you, a wave of sadness hitting you. “I wish he was here.”

“I’m positive Mr. Stark will be home as soon as he can, Y/N.” A pause. “What did Mr. Stark read to you when you couldn’t sleep?”

“We’ve been reading the Percy Jackson books lately. We just finished the second book the other night.” You laid back in bed and let your eyes close, and you willed yourself to fall back asleep.

“‘The Friday before winter break, my mom-’” FRIDAY started to speak and your eyes snapped open.

“What are you doing, Fri?”

“Reading book three, The Titan’s Curse.” FRIDAY answered as if it was the obvious answer.

“But... why?”

“You said your father would read to you whenever you had nightmares. Mr. Stark can’t be here, so I thought I could start reading the book to you. Hopefully he won’t be too upset that you started without him.” You smiled at how genuine and caring FRIDAY sounded and closed your eyes again.

“That can be our little secret. Sorry for interrupting, FRIDAY. You can keep reading if you’d like.”

“Certainly. ‘The Friday before winter break, my mom packed me an overnight bag and a few deadly weapons and took me to a new boarding school. We picked up my friends Annabeth and Thalia on the way.’” FRIDAY continued to read and you shortly fell asleep, a smile on your face. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

-Five-

You knew things would change after the battle with Ultron in Sokovia. You had just greatly underestimated how different things would be. One change was the new additions to the team- Vision and Wanda. While you got along well with them, not even your friendships could blind you to the tensions between your unconventional family. The already seldom group meals became even more rare the silence would be unsettling. If it wasn’t silent, there was arguing that you couldn’t escape.

Another change was the lack of Pepper in Tony’s life and subsequently your life. Pepper always tried to be there for you, even called you often and invited you to her office for lunch, but it wasn’t the same at home without her. Your dad was suffering from the loss more than he was letting on, and you had to be there for him as well.

~~~

“I’m a grown man, Y/N. I can take care of myself.” Tony said as he looked at you, and you set a plate and a glass of water down on his workshop table.

“I know you can, but will you?” Tony scowled at you, but you could see the gratitude in his eyes.

“Don’t know what I’d do without you, kid.” You smiled and hugged your dad tight.

“Probably fall apart.” You said with a playful smile. “Good thing you’ll never have to find out.” You let go of Tony and walked towards the exit. “Finish up soon, or I’ll have FRIDAY shut the power off.”

~~~

Things got worse when the Sokovia Accords were brought into play. Your family was torn apart by the decision whether or not to sign, with your dad being one of the few to sign and Cap being one of the few against the Accords. Throw in Clint’s retirement and the team you knew was no more. Tony knew this, and he made a trip to Queens for recruitment.

~~~

“Where are you going?” You sat up from your spot on the couch.

“Queens.” Tony walked over and took a seat beside you. “I’ve had FRIDAY tracking crime statistics, pair that with trending searches after these crimes, and I think we may have found someone in Queens that could be helpful.” Tony pulled his phone out of his pocket and projected a video for you. You tilted your head as you watched the person (definitely my age, you thought) in their makeshift suit swinging around the city, and your jaw dropped when you saw them catch a car with their bare hands.

“And how exactly did you find out who they are? Under the suit?”

“Classified.” Tony tapped the tip of your nose, and you swatted his hand away with a playful glare.

“Hope you have a way to convince his guardians to speak with him, let alone go with you to fight against the rogues.” You laid back down and cuddled your blanket.

“Have we met? I always have a plan.” Tony stood up. “You’ll be okay on your own?”

“Have we met?” You copied him and Tony rolled his eyes.

“Brat.”

“Old man.”

“I’m running away!” Tony called out as he walked to the elevator.

“See you in a few hours.” You closed your eyes, and let sleep take over.

“I wish I could go with you. We haven’t been to Germany in so long.” You sat on a workshop bench as your dad finished tweaking the web shooters for Spider-Man’s new suit.

“As soon as everything is calm again, we’ll have a vacation wherever you want. Just us, I promise. It has been too long since we’ve spent time together without work getting in the way.” You could hear the guilt in your dad’s voice and you smiled sympathetically at him.

“I know you’ll make it right, Dad. You always do.”

~~~

Before you knew it, your dad and the remaining team members were off to Germany for the fight against the rogues. Happy stayed behind, which you said was completely unnecessary, per your dad’s request. Just in case, he had said. He’ll only be a call away. And it’s a good thing he did.

———

“Happy?” You groaned and held your phone to your ear. “I think I need the hospital.” That was nearly an hour ago. Now, you laid in a stretcher, being wheeled to the operating room, as Happy waited in the lobby the emergency room. Your stomach had been aching all day and it got worse as the day progressed.

“Sounds like appendicitis. We’ll need to remove her appendix as soon as possible.” The rest of the conversation faded into the background, as did the preparation for your surgery.

“Alright, Miss Stark.” The surgeon spoke as she administered the anesthesia. “Count down from five for me. Can you do that?”

“Five...” Your eyes closed. “Four... three...” And you slipped into darkness again.

(In the waiting room...)

“Guess it’s a good thing you stayed behind.” Happy held his phone against his ear, Pepper speaking on the other end of the line. “How is she?”

“Surgery should be finishing up soon. I’ll call you again when I’ve seen her. I’m sure she’d appreciate seeing you when she’s home.” Happy glanced at the door, anxious to see your surgeon again.

“The minute she’s ready for visitors, I’ll be there.” Muffled voices in the background. “Keep me posted, please? I have to go.”

“I will. Bye, Pepper.” The two exchanged goodbyes just in time for the surgeon to walk over.

“Mr. Hogan? Miss Stark is waking up. I’ll walk you to her room.”

“Hey, kid.” Happy spoke quietly and took a seat in the chair beside your bed.

“Happy...” You smiled and struggled to keep your eyes half open. “You’re here.”

“Where else would I be?” Happy could see the gears in your brain working after the question.

“Dunno. Just happy you’re here.” You giggled tiredly. “Happy that Happy’s here. Happy, happy, happy.” Your voice trailed to a whisper and you were quiet for a minute. “Happy?”

“Yes, Y/N?” You turned to face Happy, and his eyes met yours.

“Thank you. For always being here for me.”

“Always will be, Y/N/N.“ Happy watched as your eyes closed, the smile still on your face.

“Like a family. You’re my family, Hap. And I love you.” It was Happy’s turn to smile, and he leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“I love you too, kid.” He hoped you heard him before you fell asleep.

-One Time He Was There-

“Peter!” You laughed as the brunette led (dragged) you through the hall of his apartment building, and you looked at the doors you passed on the way to his. “Slow down, I’m going to trip!”

“I’ll catch you.” Peter replied but slowed down. “Sorry, I’m just excited.”

“For pizza at your aunt’s?” You stopped walking and Peter nodded. The slight twitch of Peter’s eye didn’t go unnoticed- his nervous tic. What can you say? Natasha trained you well.

Happy had dropped you off at the Parker’s apartment last night, giving you an excuse about some business trip him, Pepper, and your dad had planned over the weekend. You insisted you could stay home alone, but when Tony mentioned staying with Peter, you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to spend time with your best friend. You two had spent all of the day together, Peter showing you around the city Spider-Man style. Holding onto Peter while he swung across the city was your favorite way to travel now.

After the battle in Germany, the team had all gone separate ways. The loss was hard on both you and your father, and the addition of Peter to your life (and Pepper rejoining) made everything easier. You quickly became friends with the teen, grateful to have someone your age to spend time with. And he was ridiculously attractive, not that you’d say it out loud. After all the time you two had talked and spent together, you grew close to Peter and him to you. And for him right now, that was a curse.

“Are you hiding something from me, Peter?” You asked.

“Absolutely not. I wouldn’t hide anything from you. I’m a horrible liar, you know that. I start talking a lot, talking really fast-“

“Like you’re doing right now?” Peter scoffed at your question.

“You have no faith in me. Come on, we don’t want to be late.” Peter continued walking and led you to his apartment door.

“It’s okay if we’re late, I doubt May ate all of our dinner by herself.” You walked into the apartment with Peter, confused why the lights were off. You turned the lights on and...

“Surprise!” You jumped from the cheers and grinned at the sight. Your dad, Pepper, Happy, and May stood in the living room wearing party hats. A homemade “Happy Birthday” banner hung in the living room, and there were containers of your favorite takeout and a birthday cake on the coffee table.

“Oh, my God.” You looked around the room. “Guys.” You whispered and your eyes watered as you turned to Peter. “This is why we spent the day in the city?”

“Had to keep you outside so they could get everything set up.” You hugged Peter tight, and Peter gladly returned the hug. “It was all your dad’s idea. He wanted to surprise you for your birthday.” Peter spoke softly as he rubbed your back. You pulled away after a moment and walked to your dad.

“You did all this for me?” Your bottom lip trembled as you blinked back tears.

“Of course I did, Y/N. You’re my daughter, my heart. You deserve the best, this is the least I could do.” Your dad opened his arms and you flung yourself into his arms. “I don’t have the best track record of being here when you need me. But I promise I’ll do better. Be the dad you deserve.” You let out a muffled sob, your face buried in your dad’s shirt.

“Please, just more days like today.” You whispered and Tony nodded, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. You stepped away after a minute and wiped your eyes. “Thank you all so much. I’ll cry all over the rest of you later.” Laughter sounded through the room as you stood by your dad’s side.

“We have plenty of time, Y/N. Now, let’s eat dinner. I nearly had to lock Tony outside to keep him from eating the cake.” Pepper said and walked to the living room, everyone but your dad following.

“Dad? Come on.” Your dad looked nervous and you started to question him, until Pepper yelled.

“Anthony Edward Stark, did you-?!”

“Gotta run!” You laughed as Pepper reprimanded Tony, and you sat on the couch with Peter and May. Maybe your family wasn’t conventional, and maybe your dad was busier than most. But when he was there, you were the happiest you could be, and you wouldn’t trade him for the world. Even when he stole a slice of your birthday cake before you could. Punk.

Taglist: @daughter-of-stark @agent-barnes40 @spideygirl2003 @ditttiii @missmulti @5aftermidnight ❤ Taglist and requests are open! Hope you guys enjoyed this because I loved it

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newvegascowboy · 2 years

Note

If Red (and whichever other OCs you want to include!) Were from the modern day, what career path would they have?

I actually have a half written modern AU for Red in which they're a ranch hand/handyman who does music gigs on the side bc they had trouble with the law in their youth and never got a degree.

A lot of my ocs have professions that could easily translate to modern day! Cecelia would be a family practitioner, and Killian is a war vet who would then be an adjunct professor of literature at a local college. Vera is a little tougher 🤔 she probably is part of a band that plays at events. Reyes...... hm... veteran, but idk what on earth she would do otherwise. Her job is inscrutable.

#fallout #kal talks #asks #ty lmao 💕

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seriouslyhooked · 4 years

Text

Lost Souls and Reveries: The Sequel (1)

Original Story on Tumblr, Fanfiction, and AO3. This sequel on Fanfiction and AO3. Amazing and exceptional @cssns series artwork created by the ultra-talented @clockadile. Thank you for bringing my wolfy world to life!

The sequel to Lost Souls and Reveries, this fic follows Emma and Killian in their continuing journey as fated mates. In the span of one summer their lives have completely changed. Finding each other helped reveal key truths, heal old wounds, and put their lives on a whole new trajectory. Part one left everyone in a good and happy place, but only half the battle has been won. This sequel blends Emma and Killian’s continuing story with the perspectives of their family and pack. Pockets of angst, but ultimately this is a story about love, hope, and the bonds that bind born and chosen families. Story has 13 planned chapters.

A/N: Hey everyone!! It is so exciting to be back with the CSSNS event this year, and to get to revisit a story that has had a tremendous impact on my writing life. Lost Souls and Reveries is the longest fic I have ever written, and it pushed me in ways no other story ever had. I did my best to blend the fluff and true love mix I am known for with some more plot twists and intrigue, and though I always felt like I was out on a ledge, all of my readers showed me tremendous love and support. That kindness means the world to me, and it also left me with another first in my numerous years of fic writing: a multi-chapter sequel. So many of you have asked for more of this story, and there is still more to write for sure. After all, there’s still a big bad lurking out at the horizon – and everyone knows that happy endings are meant for peace, not fighting villains. That being said, this story tracks Emma, Killian and their friends/family in the hunt for Gold. It will be different from the original in that there will be more chapters and POVs from other characters that are not just CS, but I promise you’ll all get that needed dose of our favorite ship. Anyway, I hope you will enjoy this first chapter told from Emma’s POV, and can’t wait to hear what you all think!!

Sprinting through the woods as fast as her legs would take her, Emma knew it was only a matter of time until she was caught. Still, she would do everything she could to buy more time and try and get away. She and her wolf were in complete agreement about this – she had to keep moving. She had no other choice.

The rush of greenery around her was all new. These woods were unfamiliar, the area unknown, but instincts commanded her in the direction of the river. She ran and ran and ran, and she realized that if she could just get to the waterway, she could use the current to wash away any trace of her. That would buy her time, and what she needed more than anything was time.

In wolf form, the frenzied pace of a run was different. As a human she saw flashes, never fully picking up on everything before her, but this way she felt and saw it all. The animals in the forest stood stock still in fear, or darted into the brush to get away. Birds squawked in alarm from the tree line, and she heard the flutter of wings taking flight even through the wind cutting past her ears. Still she kept moving, pushing, fighting, trying her best to stay ahead.

When she finally reached the clearing and could see the river, she felt another rush. She’d done it! She made it! She just needed to –

A blow came from her side and she tumbled to the ground, rolling in the dirt until the other wolf came above her. Her heart lurched painfully, the adrenaline of being caught swarming her system, but then the black wolf above her nipped at her neck and her own wolf let out a low whine. It was a happy sound, even if she was submitting, for despite her want to win, she never could resent being caught by her mate. In unison, she and Killian shifted back to their normal form, both of them out of breath but smiling after the rigor of their game.

“I was so freaking close that time,” she said. “Admit it, you almost didn’t get me.”

“Your ability improves each and every day, my love,” Killian said, not admitting anything but pressing a kiss to her lips instead, thus successfully distracting her. She moaned into his mouth as her hands went to hold him closer, but just as she was about to really give in, he stood, carrying her in his arms and causing her to shriek. Too late she realized where he was headed, and in another few seconds they were both submerged in the icy cold mountain water.

Breaking the surface and gasping for air, Emma shoved Killian playfully, but he only pulled her closer, turning the tides toward a delicious kind of tension instantly. Here in the water, Killian allowed the heat that was between them to really crescendo. His mouth claimed hers as his hands roamed over her curves in a possessive, demanding way. Emma arched against him seeking friction and strength, loving the feel of his hard body accompanied by the crisp cool water of the riverway they were in. In her mind Emma knew his reasons for this not so subtle relocation; alone as they were out here at her Aunt and Uncle’s retreat deep in the forests near Acadia National Park, Killian would never risk them being seen by anyone. He was the best man she knew, loving and sweet and kind, but he was also all alpha, and if anyone ever caught them like this… let’s just say Killian would never allow witnesses to this kind of scene.

“No one sees you like this. No one but me,” Killian growled out in the kiss as Emma shivered. He was using that damned mind link they had again, but she couldn’t blame him. As hot and bothered as she was right now, she was probably yelling all her thoughts. She certainly wasn’t trying to shield them from him.

“Only you,” she agreed, running her fingertips along his jaw as her other hand lay over his chest. She felt the steady beating of his heart, keeping time with hers down to the nanosecond. “And no one sees my mate either.”

“Not a soul,” Killian agreed. “All this was made for your eyes only.”

“Just my eyes?” she asked, her voice dipping low as she ran her hand down his body. She was totally playing with him and the way his eyes grew dark at her words made her want to even more. “That’s a shame. Here I was thinking…”

She purposefully trailed off, causing Killian to growl again. He nipped at her neck, a primal move she always loved. She gasped at the bite, loving the pressure but knowing it was never too rough to handle. She forgot herself a moment until Killian’s voice rumbled out once more. “What were you thinking, love?”

“I was thinking we should play another game. Same rules, only this time, if I make it the house before you catch me, I get to have my way with you. And I’ll be using way more than my eyes.”

“And if I catch you…?” Killian asked, hunger in his eyes.

“You get to have your way with me. You interested?”

“More than you could ever even imagine.”

With that, they raced back to the house, and though she never would admit it, Emma slowed down just a touch in the final stretch, allowing her mate to catch her and to make good on all the hotness that came when he was running the show. She had no regrets on that choice either, not when her man was a master of knowing what she needed and giving her everything her heart could ever want.

They stayed like that for hours, cooped up in the house, moving from room to room, sating every need, and then, when they were finally spent (at least for now), they gave in and relaxed. The rest of the day was lazy, just as every other day on this honeymoon had been, and Emma for one was thrilled. By the late afternoon they were out on the back deck, soaking up the sunshine and taking it all in. In all those harrowing moments over the past few months, the ones fraught with worry and stress and uncertainty, this was the kind of bliss that Emma was praying for. The feel of the sun on her body, the breeze on her skin, and the heat of her husband – yes, her husband – just beside her on the lounger that they currently shared.

Her eyes were still closed as she dozed out here in the last of the summer sun, but Emma couldn’t keep her smile at bay. This had been a fantastic honeymoon, a whole series of moments, carved out of time for her and her mate. It was just them out here, and though they weren’t very far from home, it was the perfect kind of quiet that they’d needed most of all. Two whole weeks away from her friends and her parents and any and all responsibilities. It was amazing, and she would be sad to see it end in a few days’ time. But even though she was luxuriating in every moment with Killian, and soaking in this calm they both desperately deserved, she couldn’t help the tingling sensation that she missed her home and the people she loved most.

The last time she’d seen them all was the morning after their wedding. Her friends and family had congregated together to wish Emma and Killian well on their trip and say goodbye for even this short amount of time. Emma was touched at the thoughtfulness, and she loved how all of them had come, her parents and Neal, Elsa and Liam, Anna and Kristoff, Ruby and Graham and Granny and Emma’s own grandmother. It was like another mini party all over again, and as swift as it was, Emma adored that precious moment, especially since she was still riding high after the best night of her life.

Looking back, she could definitively call her wedding night the best night of her life, at least so far. It had just been so… well, magical, for lack of a better work. Every component of the evening was something she loved. She was surrounded by her people, her pack as it were, and the more extended friends and neighbors who may not know everything about her now, but who loved and supported her all the same. There was music and dancing, great food and a great vibe, laughter and joy, and a resurgence of hope among all of them that never wavered and never strayed away. It was almost like the battles they’d faced had never happened. She barely thought of the tough times, the darkness or the fear. It felt liberating, loving Killian and choosing to be with him forever, and she knew her friends felt their own sense of rightness, having all found their own mates to love as well.

At one point, when all of them were on the dance floor, Emma broke through the fog of her desire for Killian and took a look around. All of her loved ones were dancing, her parents, and her friends, and in everyone’s eyes she saw real and true love. It was amazing, to bear witness to people who all had their own pasts, and scars from harder days, coming together and choosing to hope. Even Kristoff, who was still adjusting to everything after his months in captivity, had looked happy and calm. He stayed glued to Anna the entire night, and never took his eyes from her, filling Emma with the same joy she’d felt when Liam and Elsa found each other just a short time ago. It was all coming together. Everyone was finding who they were and what they wanted, and it all started with her and Killian, finding each other just as fate had foretold.

There was only one part of the whole wedding that left Emma slightly off balance, a blip in her elevated mood that struck her as curious. It was near the end of the night, only a few songs before she and Killian departed. She had looked over to try and keep track of her friends and she saw Elsa, Ruby, and Anna all huddled together. Ruby was talking in an animated way, but the worry on her face wasn’t meant for this moment. Emma knew she must have seen something, must have glimpsed a vision or something along those lines, but she couldn’t exactly be sure. Then she was even more puzzled, because it appeared to be Elsa who drew everybody’s focus, and then, just as Emma was beginning to realize something might be up, her best friend turned, saw her curious expression and smiled, shaking her head.

Elsa’s meaning was clear: Don’t worry about it. Nothing that needs handling tonight. And though Emma usually wouldn’t agree to such a mindset, she made an exception. If it was really a problem, Elsa would tell her, wedding or not. And in the days since, no one had reached out. No one had tried to get them home or break into their honeymoon, so it must not be so bad. Right? God, please don’t let it be too bad.

“You know I hate to see your smile waver, my love,” Killian said, his voice a low and rumble as he pulled her into him. Emma sighed, cozying up next to him, loving how he always knew what she was thinking and how he always, without fail, sought to raise her spirits. “What’s on your mind.”

“It’s nothing,” she said automatically, looking up at him and shaking her head. “Okay it’s not nothing, but since I don’t know what it is, and we’re still on honeymoon, there’s no use talking about it.”

“Emma,” Killian urged, only saying her name but relaying his feelings very clearly. He wanted to hear her thoughts, to help her hold her burdens. Always.

“Okay it’s just, did you notice at the wedding. Elsa and Anna and Ruby got a little cagey at the end there.” Killian stiffened and immediately Emma knew he did notice and that not only that, he knew more than her. Damn it! How did he always manage to know everything? “You did notice. Do you know what happened?”

“No,” Killian said honestly, “But that’s because I purposefully avoided asking. If it was truly serious, Liam would tell me, just as Elsa or Anna would tell you.”

“But what if they actually need help, but they just didn’t ask because they don’t want to interfere?”

“I may not have known your friends very long, Emma, but I can assure my cousin is not the kind of person to stand on ceremony.” Killian’s summary of Ruby’s predisposition made Emma smile despite herself. “If we were needed, Ruby would let us know through a text or a call, hell a damn carrier pigeon. She’d let nothing interfere with delivering the message.”

“You’re right,” Emma agreed, nodding her head, but still unconvinced. “I know you’re right… it’s just…”

“It’s just that you specialize in caring for others,” Killian said, running his thumb along her bottom lip as he smiled at her warmly. Before she could respond, he stole a kiss laced with purposeful distraction, and despite how intertwined they’d been for days, Emma still got caught up as ever. By the time he’d pulled back she was clinging to him, her head a little foggy from the want to be close. “I love you for a million different reasons, Emma, but your earnest heart is among the most prominent.”

“You always know just what to say,” she said, letting go of some more of the worry.

“I always speak from my heart,” he promised. “And I know what we said before love, the promises you made me, about taking the sidelines.”

Emma nodded, averting her gaze to his chest as she trailed a delicate line against his skin. She had made that promise, and she wouldn’t go against it, but it still didn’t sit well with her. She didn’t feel good removing herself completely, but she also would not put Killian through more pain and fear.

“I was hasty in that request,” he said and now her eyes shot back to him. He was what? Really? She was so shocked that he said this. She never expected it, even when he explained. “My sentiments are exactly the same, love. I cannot lose you. Not now, not ever. But locking you into a promise where you feel you must choose between my wishes and your family… that was never my intention.”

“I didn’t feel that way,” she said, and she hadn’t. It wasn’t pressure. She totally understood his feelings after her very near miss in the confrontation against George. With her, and their baby on the way, he had every reason to worry.

“I know, love,” he said, running his hand along her face tenderly. “You’re predisposed to think the best of me. I just need to try and be a man worth putting such faith in.”

“Do you think I ever would have married you without you already being enough?” she asked and he shook his head and smiled, a boyish grin, filled with wonder. Just the mention of their being married seemed to lighten him up, and it made Emma’s heart flutter to see that happy pride. Then he took her hand in his and kissed the top, then the side, then the palm. Each brush of his lips was delicate and dear. Like he could never get enough of her, no matter how hard he tried.

“I simply meant that I’ve thought on all of this and come to realize I cannot hold you to that promise. When we get back, we’ll hear them out and whenever the next phase comes we’ll face it together. We’ve been a team since the start, and we’ll be one now and always. All I ask is that for these last few days we stay grounded here, together, just you and me.”

Emma’s eyes misted over with happy tears, for about the billionth time since she’d found Killian and given him her heart. This man was so effortlessly right for her, and while he was getting better at seeing himself through her eyes, he still didn’t realize just how good he was. She knew though, and she felt so damn lucky to have him. She was too choked up to really speak, so instead she nodded, whispered that she loved him and pulled him in for another kiss, falling back into her favorite person once again.

Over the next few days they managed to make good on that new choice. They savored every last moment of their honeymoon, and even on the night when they came back home to Storybrooke, they did so shroud in a resilient quiet. Their world was calm and unassuming. There was no congregation of their loved ones, no celebrations still in store, just peace and space and a last little taste of freedom. In that blissful, fleeting window, they shared as much as they could, the passion between them burning as bright as it had in the forest, and every day before then. But when the night was over, and sleep came calling, Emma knew that tomorrow things would change. For soon they’d be back in the thick of things, finding out the truth and diving once more into something they didn’t yet know, but they had no choice but to conquer.

…………

Stirring awake in the morning, Emma felt the warmth of Killian in her bed and she knew the dawn had only just broken. The day was still so new, the hour still too early, even for her mate to be awake yet. She stretched her limbs and debated curling up into him. She should go back to sleep or savor the moment, but despite her wish to do so, she felt a gentle tug from deep within her chest. At first she ignored it, content to linger here, but soon the feeling grew too dominant. She sat up, careful not to rouse Killian, and looking down at his still sleeping form. He was so peaceful in this moment and she smiled at the sight, but the tightness continued. It felt like a string was pulling at her and she didn’t know why. Then she heard the voice, soft, but familiar. It said only one word.

Emma.

Looking around, she saw no one, and knew it must be in her head but the light in her room changed. The dawn’s crisp colors blended with a burst of silver and gold. It was subtle, but she recognized it. Magic. Here in her home, calling to her.

Without thinking she got up, intent on following the pull. She looked to Killian once more, and thought about waking him, but she didn’t want to disturb him. Instead she moved out the back door and into the land behind their home. The details from there were hazy, she wandered to places unknown, even in the midst of the one place she’d ever called home. She couldn’t tell how long she was out there, but soon the paths she’d often tread were not enough. Instinct drew her away, past a thicket and into a dip in the glen she’d never seen. Large rocks stood there that she couldn’t quite remember but felt she’d seen before, and still the string pulled tighter. She saw then the small passage in the formation, wide enough for someone to go through. She hesitated for the first time, wondering if it was right to go this far. Again the voice spoke.

Have faith, Emma, and remember. Remember to forget.

Remember to forget? She didn’t know what it meant, but she walked through the rocks the darkness creeping in, but just as it felt like she was blinded by it, light came from further in that she didn’t expect she followed it, slowly but surely finding her way, and on the other side of it all she gasped, her breath stolen by the sight before her.

Toto, I don’t think we’re in Storybrooke anymore.

The thought was mired in a joke, but it did nothing to dull what Emma saw before her. A place out of time surrounded on all sides by rocks. It felt like something out of a storybook, both ancient and too beautiful to be real. Emma wanted to take it all in, to linger here, but the string drew taut again and beckoned her to a willow tree across the way. The willow was big and tall, brimming with life as its leaves whistled with the wind. It sat at an embankment, a body of water that went all the way back to the far rock wall, and then perhaps beyond. She couldn’t see beneath the surface, she only felt the call of the water and the tree.

The swirls within the pool were reminiscent of a turquoise sea, like Caribbean waters, land bound in this hidden, special place. Looking inside, she couldn’t tell how deep the water ran. The bottom appeared to be crystalline, with some kind of precious, aqua colored stone sticking up towards the sky but never breaking the surface. At the same time every current swirled and swished in a visible way. The water seemed to pulsate and the light reflected from it and retained a shimmering glow, reminding her of magic.

Were these the kinds of springs of old that witches spoke of? The ones where magic used to live?

The call of the water was strong and sure, and Emma longed to draw nearer to it. The closer she got the sweeter the sound. It was a song, she realized, gentle and soothing and like nothing she had ever heard. Only after a moment did she understand what it was, a version of her wedding song to Killian, enchanted in some way. It flooded her senses before she’d even touched the water, and then she heard a sound intermingled in the chimes of the melody. The laughter of her friends, swelling and light. The water shimmered, a vision came. Everyone was happy and everyone was whole. Was it the past or was it the future? She wanted to know, but as soon as it came it melted away. This time another image. Children running in a field, so many children, none she knew but still familiar. Her hand came to the swell of her stomach, a premonition. A sign of hope and then she reached for the water, wanting to touch.

“Emma,” a voice called, but this one she knew. It was Killian.

She froze and as she did, she watched the water begin to swirl and her own reflection twisted away. As she hovered there, she watched the water change. The aquamarine went from the healthy warming color to something frosted over, icy and colder and sharp. The music was gone, and her heart skipped. She was gripped by the fledgling force of fear, anticipation washing over her. Another image danced below the surface of the pool, and she swore she saw her friends, Anna and Elsa and Ruby, but she couldn’t be sure. The water was clouded and the music from before sounded less like a melody and more like a plea. The only problem was she couldn’t understand it. The only thing she knew was that time was running out she had to fix this she had to –

“Emma!”

Opening her eyes, Emma’s first sight was her husband’s face filled with worry and concern. Instinctively she rose, holding onto him and letting him wrap her up in his embrace. The relief she sensed from him was huge, and she didn’t understand. When she pulled back from him and cupped his face, feeling the scruff of his honeymoon beard, which was longer than the norm, she tried to make it out, but something danced at the corner of her eyes. She looked over and gasped.

“Magic,” she whispered, knowing nothing else could explain what had happened in their room. The ivory color of their walls was now offset with silver and gold and tinted color remnant of light from a thousand prisms. All of this color was in the air around them. It was some kind of substance suspended in time, and the particles looked like dew handing in the air. The ivy vines from outside had crawled into the window, curling around all of their things winding around the dressers and the bedposts. And though it was shocking, it was one of the most beautiful things Emma had ever seen. “But why?”

“The baby,” he whispered, putting his hand where their child was still so small, and Emma covered his without so much as looking down. When they did, everything changed. The particles radiated out, slamming into the walls and leaving a trace, a blend of color and design no human brush could ever make. The vines too changed, and what were once green leaves became metallic kinds of etching in wooden structures themselves. All of it was there and then gone, but it wasn’t gone, and no matter how many times she blinked, the traces still remained.

“It’s amazing,” Killian said, and Emma nodded.

“She’s amazing,” Emma agreed and the two of them shared the moment of awe, letting quiet fall between them.

“You took a minute to wake up,” Killian said, his worry evident once more. “I tried and you didn’t hear me the first time.”

“I had a dream…” Emma said, trying to remember it, but finding that she couldn’t. Strange. She swore only seconds before she’d had it in her head. Why couldn’t she remember?

Remember to forget.

“What happened in it?” he asked and Emma shook her head, unable to recall.

“I don’t know.”

But as she said the words Emma knew whatever it was had been important, and she was eager to figure out what it was and what it meant. And in the meantime, she’d choose to see this unexpected moment as a sign of her daughter’s strength and everything they had to fight for. For nothing in the world could mean so much as the love of this family, and Emma would do anything and everything to see them protected, sheltered, and safe.

Post-Note: So there we have it. I know, I know, I have thrown some big what the heck moments into this early, but I just couldn’t help myself. Also, I’ve told you all this will still be a CS story but it also is a story fixated on Emma’s friends and their loved ones too. They will be back with us in the next few chapters as we try and figure out what they heck is going on. Be advised, there is a battle left ahead and a lot to come in this fic, some of which might be a little angsty, but I don’t think this small glimpse has given too much away and I promise to always circle back to the feel goof love that I cherish in my fics. Anyway, I would love to hear what you all think and hear what you expect may come in part 2 of Lost Souls and Reveries. Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you’ll join me next time!

Taglist (pulling from all the lovely people who I was tagging for part 1, let me know if you’d like to be included or removed): @jennjenn615, @kmomof4, @winterbaby89, @teamhook, @ultraluckycatnd, @resident-of-storybrooke, @artistic-writer, @snowbellewells, @snarkycaptainswan4, @allofdafandoms-blog

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intothewickedwood · 3 years

Text

Once Upon A Time Rewatch: 5x12 Souls of the Departed

Currently reading (well, listening) to The School for Good and Evil Series. It’s so good! It’s basically Wicked the Musical and has a fairy tale element like OUAT. Can’t recommend enough!

I had the weirdest dream last night that Ouat’s Gothel was hiding behind my bed at my old house trying to scare me. She stayed up all night with some blankets, waiting to pounce. Also, she was naked. Jesus Christ, wtf is wrong with my dreams?! I do not see Gothel in that way at all!! I was so freaking disturbed! @fairytalepsuedonym this is all your fault for putting that dirty hippie witch bitch on my mind lol xD! /jk

Also guys, we’re getting Disney+ today. I’m so excited! Let me know if anyone has any recommendations.

And you know what I just thought of? It looked like they were implying that Merida and Lord Macintosh were gonna be a thing (possibly? I think it’s up for interpretation) but he outright shot an arrow at one of her brothers and wanted the others dead too. Merida would never! Her brothers mean too much to her to forgive such a thing. Also, she gives me gay vibes. I don’t make the rules. Alistair makes all the rules. 

Back to the rewatch.

Oh yeah! This is the 100th episode! The compilation for 100 episodes was so freaking epic!

Neal! Is that really him though?

She’s staring at his lips lol!

Omg! Emma would have come back for Neal if she could. That means she believes they were true love, and she could have split her heart with him, right?

So, he appeared to her? 

Omg! The way Emma is stroking his face and is staring at him, you’d never know she was working on saving her boyfriend lol.

You know what would have been so much better? If the underworld was perpetually dark and foggy (within reason) like the sims 4 Forgotten Hollow. That would have looked so much cooler!

Here comes the red filter. As a gifmaker and even as a viewer I wanna scream every time I see it but at least it’s not the Dark Swan arc.

I said it before and I’ll say it again: they should have let Regina’s and maybe even Rumple’s victims confront them! That would have been interesting to watch play out. I know we got Regina’s dad and Peter Pan but give me a family of Regina’s slaughtered villagers. What would their reaction be to seeing her?

Eww. I hate the way she dips her finger in that pie.

Guys. It doesn’t matter that you have Regina surrounded, she has pyrokinesis and telekinesis! Y’all are screwed! She blew the flames out? She had the advantage! I’m glad she didn’t hurt them of course, but as someone writing a book that consists of characters with magic abilities, you’ve gotta know when a powerful character has the advantage and when to use it. Where was Snow dodging a fireball as one of her arrows flies at Regina and it pauses in mid air only to sore back at Snowing and their friends, but they manage to outsmart her somehow? 

Woah. This is the boldest Henry Sr. has ever been. He’s really trying to help Regina out here. 

Cora!! My love!! I missed you!!

I love the Blind Witch. Does she have a name? I enjoyed her in ‘Regina Rising.’ I remember she’s quite a bit older than Regina

The Blind Witch: “What can I get you? Do you like gingerbread or children?” Omg Snow’s like “what the actual f**k??”

James, why are you like this?? Get off her, dude.

Those key rings are cool.

Why the hell didn’t Emma just tell Henry she saw his dad? I can think of absolutely no reason why she would keep that from him.

Lately all Robin has done is make random comments pointing out the obvious. “It’s uncanny. It’s so similar yet so off.” Yes, Robin we established that 9 minutes ago. His next line will be, “Goodness, is that a tree over there?” or “Regina, you were the Evil Queen”, mark my words. Where has his personality gone? I was never a big fan but at least he was kinda arrogant and cheeky before, at least in season 2 and 3. Now he’s just a dude that points on the ground and tells you there’s a stone. And they have the chemistry of a banana and a cheese cracker.

“Her puny army of sweaty little child beasts.”

Are those black roses? 

I may be wrong but wasn’t Cora trying to get Regina to stop hunting Snow White and find true love instead in 4x20 or am I making things up? And I wonder if this is before or after she appeared in 4x20. 

I just love Cora so much.

Is that how she got to the EF in 4x20? Through a looking glass?

The fact that she could so easily cross realms suggests that she willingly gave Regina her space. Which is something! But it feels like she’d have ulterior motives for that. Also Jefferson and Rumple would be screaming if they knew it was that easy to cross realms.

Regina: “are you threatening me?” Cora: “No. Of course not, never.” But you literally are though.

Peter Pan! He was under-utilised this season. Come on! They could have done so much with him! I’m glad at least Cora and Cruella got decent screen time.

Imagine watching OUAT for the first time with this episode and you see this full-grown man refer to a teenage boy as is father. I would be so confused lol.

I wonder if Rumple / Rumple’s father hail from Dunbroch originally. You know, with the Scottish accent. I’m kinda thinking about headcanoning that now. At least, I think Malcolm had a Scottish accent?

That got me! I forgot Cora had glamoured into Henry Sr.! I thought Cora had shapeshifted into Snow to trick Henry.

Oh, so Henry Sr. contacting her was the reason Cora could walk through the looking glass. If only someone had contacted Jefferson. And I’ve just remembered that in 4x20, she said a white rabbit brought her to the EF.

Killian looks creepy as hell here!

Lol Cora, you let Henry wrap the heart? What did you expect to happen!

Why did Regina need Snow’s heart to kill her? She could have easily killed her without even touching her. 

What the hell does Snow think is in there? She looks terrified.

Archie, wtf were you doing between Snow’s titties?! And what were you doing with a match? Gonna set some titties on fire xD? I bet she could never look at him the same again. 

He doesn’t want Regina to kill Snow because he thinks it will make her dark forever? What about all the other people she’s killed?! That makes no sense!

Okay, given that Grace didn’t seem to physically age much between the flashbacks in 1x17 and the present day in 1x17, this probably happened after the flashback’s events in 4x20. 

According to wiki, Regina’s birthday is February 1st. I’m only learning this now.

I’ve never seen Henry Sr. so bold and Adam end to help Regina.

Okay, so Regina shrunk Henry with her magic but she needed a mushroom to return him to his normal size?

Don’t lock him in that box omg!!

Cora: “when are you gonna get it in that thick head...” she’s so casually abusive.

Random thought but why is Henry’s surname Mills? It just seems like it’d be Cora’s surname. Maybe he took hers on but that seems strange for a Prince to do.

Cora, don’t!

Henry’s alright!

Aww. Henry got to meet his 3rd Grandpa! He’s so happy she named him after him. 

I’m tearing up.

“Remember who you are, Regina.”

Henry, honey, you need to go home.

Is that Persephone?

Oh my God! I’m so excited for the Cora and Zelena stuff!! By far my favourite thing of the season! To hear Cora say Zelena’s name- the fact she knows her name- I’d waited for so long for this! It left open so many questions!

And Hades infuriated with Cora on the love of his life Zelena’s behalf!! He loved her so much and would do anything for her. I don’t ship it as much as I initially did because of how it ended but that man freaking loved and cherished Zelena. He wanted everything for her. She desperately needed that and it was an emotional experience to see her get it.

That’s like her worst nightmare, being a peasant again. 

I can’t with the flame hair.

I forgot this episode was pretty good. I didn’t remember liking it but Cora saved it for me. I forgot she was in it because I have probably watch season 5 the least as I try to avoid it lol. 

#ouat #once upon a time #regina mills #the evil queen #cora mills #ouat rewatch #ouat rewatch 2019

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toyhenoctus · 4 years

Photo

Character Sheet: Boaz

Also featuring human!Boaz, whose name is Belle

Character Chart

Character’s full name: Boaz

Reason or meaning of name: The prince of men / Another fantasy name

Character’s nickname: Bo and The Brawler

Reason for nickname: Bo is used frequently by friends and The Brawler was given by the party

Birth date: 7/13

Rest under the cut

Physical appearance

Age: 23

How old does he/she appear: 25

Weight: 210 lbs.

Height: 6’ 4”

Body build: Mesomorph - Athletic

Shape of face: Square/Heart

Eye color: Amber

Glasses or contacts: N/A

Skin tone: Forest green

Distinguishing marks: Freckles, pierced horn and long braid

Predominant features: Easy smile

Hair color: Brown

Type of hair: Fine

Hairstyle: Fringe styled up and back, rest is gathered back tightly into a long plait

Voice: Deep and smoky

Overall attractiveness: 6/10

Physical disabilities: N/A

Usual fashion of dress: Sleeveless vest and undershirt, belt, loose trousers, knee high, steel tipped boots and wrappings

Favorite outfit: The pirate outfit

Jewelry or accessories: Two gold rings adorning her right horn

Personality

Good personality traits: Brave, loyal, charismatic

Bad personality traits: Impulsive, naive, emotional

Mood character is most often in: Happy

Sense of humor: Childish; highly amused by body humor

Character’s greatest joy in life: Realizing that she’s fallen in love

Character’s greatest fear: Being seperated from her family and friends

Why? She loves the party like her brother and sister

What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil? Losing Nia, which it did

Character is most at ease when: She’s cracking jokes with her friends

Most ill at ease when: She feels hopeless

Enraged when: Something threatens Nia

Depressed or sad when: Seeing her sister struggle with communication

Priorities: Saving Nia and Kade

Life philosophy: GO BIG OR GO HOME!

If granted one wish, it would be: To have met her parents

Why? She’s always wanted to know what they were like

Character’s soft spot: Nia

Is this soft spot obvious to others? Yes

Greatest strength: Charisma

Greatest vulnerability or weakness: Naivete and true combat inexperience

Biggest regret: Trusting Aerin

Minor regret: Being so mean to Mal in the beginning

Biggest accomplishment: Learning and mastering new spells

Minor accomplishment: Learning sign language for her sister

Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: Oh, there are many

Why? She was a gangly, clumsy and destructive kid

Character’s darkest secret: Nothing heinous

Does anyone else know? N/A

Goals

Drives and motivations: To become a world famous adventurer and hero

Immediate goals: Destroying the Shadow Court

Long term goals: Mastering more magic and learning more about orcs

How the character plans to accomplish these goals: By grabbing the Dread Lord by the balls

How other characters will be affected: Everyone will be better for it if the Shadow Court is destroyed

Past

Hometown: Riverbend

Type of childhood: Messy but loving

Pets: N/A

First memory: Getting taken in by humans with Kade

Most important childhood memory: Breaking the family dinner table in half

Why: It was the first time and really realised that she was different from humans

Childhood hero: Mostly likely some human adventurer

Dream job: Adventurer/Hero

Education: Average literature and arithmetic as well as nature studies

Religion: N/A

Finances: N/A

Present

Current location: Riverbend

Currently living with: Urzhug and Kade

Pets: N/A

Religion: N/A

Occupation: Fledgling adventurer

Finances: She would help Urzhug dress her kills

Family

Mother: Hestia

Relationship with her: Never knew her

Father: Killian Corsair

Relationship with him: Never met

Siblings: Probably a half sibling or two out there by Killian and Urzhug and Kade

Relationship with them: Very close with Urzhug and Kade

Spouse: Not yet :D

Relationship with him/her: N/A

Children: N/A

Relationship with them: N/A

Other important family members: N/A

Favorites

Color: Yellow

Least favorite color: Purple

Music: Human music

Food: Stew

Literature: She likes heroic fiction

Form of entertainment: Pranks and music

Expressions: “Oh, I’ve got this!”

Mode of transportation: On foot

Most prized possession: The Gauntlet of Pain

Habits

Hobbies: Pulling pranks, flirting and mixing poultices

Plays a musical instrument? Yes, the lute

Plays a sport? Probably

How he/she would spend a rainy day: Playing her lute

Spending habits: She’s mostly frugal with Urzhug’s help

Smokes: No

Drinks: Yes, though not much

Other drugs: No

What does he/she do too much of? Think ahead

What does he/she do too little of? Clean up after herself

Extremely skilled at: Grappling, foraging and healing

Extremely unskilled at: Swordsmanship, archery and equestrianism

Nervous tics: Shuffling of her feet

Usual body posture: Shoulders back but typically relaxed

Mannerisms: Wide and graceless

Peculiarities: She takes her hair down and rebraids it before bed and when she wakes up

Traits

Optimist or pessimist? Optimist

Introvert or extrovert? Extrovert

Daredevil or cautious? Daredevil

Logical or emotional? Emotional

Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat? Very messy

Prefers working or relaxing? A balance of both

Confident or unsure of himself/herself? Confident

Animal lover? Yes

Self-perception

How he/she feels about himself/herself: She’s quite self assured

One word the character would use to describe self: Spectacular

What does the character consider his/her best personality trait? Bravery

What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait? Impulsiveness

What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic? Her eyes

What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic? Her teeth

How does the character think others perceive him/her: Unusual

What would the character most like to change about himself/herself: She wishes her tusks were smaller like humans

Relationships with others

Opinion of other people in general: Naively positive

Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others? No

Person character most hates: Aerin

Best friend(s): Particularly Urzhug, Kade, and Mal

Love interest(s): Nia

Person character goes to for advice: Imtura and Tyril

Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: Kade

Person character feels shy or awkward around: She isn’t shy with anyone

Person character openly admires: Skullcrusher

Person character secretly admires: Imtura

Most important person in character’s life before story starts: Urzhug and Kade

After story starts: Nia

#playchoices #choices stories you play #choices #blades of light and shadow #blades choices #choices bolas #boaz

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rebelbyrdie · 3 years

Text

SwanQueen Ficlet: Black and White Pt 1

A ridiculous excuse to have Emma drool over Regina. Not edited very well because I wrote it in the car.

“What-” Emma stabbed at her eggs. “-the hell is this social thingy you are all excited about?” Emma stared across the table at her parents. They were at Granny’s and Snow was practically vibrating with excitement. When Ruby came back over, Emma was not going to let her give Snow any more coffee.

“Oh it was a glorious tradition! Everyone would gather and split into factions and there would be a tournament and the winner was honoroed with a ball!”

Emma blinked. “So instead of just a normal New Years Eve Party, you want a ye olde Super Bowl?” This had to be the dumbest thing she’d ever heard, and she lived in a town where fairytales were real.

“It was my father’s favorite event! We were always white, of course, and we always won!”

Well that sounded like a big ass-kissing-fest, not an actual competition.

“I’ve already got it all arranged. We don’t even need a theme. Regina’s already agreed to head up the Black Court!”

Emma dropped her fork. It clanged against her plate. Neal, two and squirming in his high chair like a crazed escape artist, threw his plastic baby fork in solidarity, then yelled out something that might have been a curse word that she definitely hadn’t said in front of him once. She liked the kidlet, he had moxey. He was also the only member of her family that was making any damn sense at the moment.

She looked at David. “Dad, you really think its a good idea to have Regina play the Evil Queen? We just got people to stop forming fu-freaking lynch mobs in town.”

David shrugged, completely useless. “She said it was fine. I think the town knows it is all an act.”

He did not seem so sure. “We never really had time for any of this, since there was a real ware between good and evil to fight at the time.” He rolled his eyes and smiled. “It sounds like fun. This town could use a party.”

That was code for Snow had already made up her mind and he knew better than to argue with her.

Her dad was the actual definition of whipped.

“You’ll love it, Emma. We’ll all wear white and dance. You’ll get to cheer for Killian in the tournament and give him your token. Then you’ll wear a beautiful white gown and dance with him-”

Wait a minute. Did Snow think? Worse, did Killian think? If Snow had set this all up for Killian to make some kind of grand proposal, then she was going to kick both of their asses.

She had dumped his skeevy, leather wearing, rum swilling ass two months ago. He, and Snow, had not left her along since. She was going to kill them.

Emma didn’t kill them. She was starting to consider it, though. Everyone seemed so excited, like it was the event of the century. Even Regina didn’t seem to mind that much. She was right there beside Snow, arranging and planning and acting like it was all fun and games.

Emma hated this Black and White bullshit more than she’d hated anything ever and she’d lived through the 90s.

Thanksgiving and Christmas flew by and before Emma could fall jnto a convenient portal to the next sane dimension, December 31st dawned bright and cold.

The high school football field had been converted into a tournament grounds. There would be bows and arrows, swords, races, jousting and a bunch of other dangerous shit that Emma hadn’t bothered to learn about.

Henry was excited. Snow was over the moon. Emma wanted to be anywhere else. It was cold. She was bitchy. This was stupid. She’d already stained her white shirt by breakfast.

They walked out onto the grass and someone, probably Dopey, was playing Queen’s We are the Champions over the loud speakers. The gathered people in the stands (most of town) clapped, cheered and screamed for them. Emma hated it.

Then, like things weren’t dramatic enough, the music changed. The opening guitar licks of AC/DC’s Back in Black boomed out and the “Black Court” came onto the field.

Oh man. Emma wanted to swear. She was definitely on the wrong team.

Regina did love to make an entrance. A line of black armor clad people marched in perfect step in front, banging swords against heavy black shields. It was, somehow, perfectly matched to the music. Bursts of fire, courtesy of Maleficent and Lily flying over in dragon form, lit up the sky. Coal black horses stomped in next, then split off, to reveal Regina and her “court”.

Emma’s jaw dropped and her heart-rate tripled. She felt faint.

Regina, flanked by Zelena on the left and Kathryn on the right, looked like a dark sex fantasy come to life.

She was wearing a perfectly tailored black suit. She’d been poured into it. The deep v of the jacket revealed nothing but smooth sunkissed skin. She wasn’t wearing a shirt or even a bra. Regina wasn’t showing anything but the tease was beyond cruel. She had her hair slicked back and her eyes surrounded by dark kohl, Her lips were blood red. She had the most wonderfully sinful smirk on her face. One brow was raised, as if in challenge. It felt like she was staring right into Emma’s soul.

Emma could hear, somewhere in the distance, that the crowd was booing. White good. Black bad. She was on the wrong fucking team. All of Emma’s brain power was now dedicated to remembering how to breathe.

How the hell was she going to survive all the way to midnight?

#fanfiction #swan queen

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insidious-rp · 3 years

Photo

⊱ 𝑰𝑵𝑺𝑰𝑫𝑰𝑶𝑼𝑺 ⊰

「 ͏ Inspired by The Vampire Diaries, The Originals, The Legacies, American Horror Story ͏ 」

OC roleplay // Literate // 19+ mun & muse // Supernatural City AU // All Orientations // Based on Mewe // Modern Setting in New Orleans // Welcomes Asian descents & Internationals // Black Market System

❛ ongoing special event! ❜ ─ The lengthy days of the summer season signals the coming of a prosperous harvest while the heat awakens the beauty of romance. Because love and nature are elements of deep importance to pixies, they organize a ball in celebration of Midsummer annually.

While the ball was previously a private event solely for pixies, in recent years, the royal family has been kind enough to extend the invitation to all species in an attempt to alleviate strife when there are growing tensions and to bring members of different species together.

This year, the event will be a masquerade ball.

The event will be taking place in gardens of the Château de La Messardiere and the Wanderlust Forest. The blossom pixies take great care to adorn the venue with the loveliest flowers. Pixie dust is sprinkled atop of chandeliers so they float above the dance floor. In the forest, glowing lights dangle from the trees and fireflies dance along the paths while more dangerous woodland animals keep away for the night at the request of the fauna pixies. Sky pixies ensure perfect weather and starry skies while muse pixies arrange the finest musical performances. And once the ball begins, guardian pixies occasionally play cupid in hopes of prompting true love’s kiss.

The Midsummer Ball is a chance to not only showcase one’s finery and dance the night away with a beautiful partner, but it will also feature games, a scavenger hunt, and another special surprise from the pixies. [ graphic made by Xavier Killian typist for the event ]

#krpnet #krp #krp ads #mewe rp #literate roleplay #oc roleplay #supernatural roleplay #city au #ad #events

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teamhook · 3 years

Text

Finding Hope :: August Rush Birthday Fic

A new chapter for the birthday fic for my favorite dork @hookedonapirate cause I love her to death.

Thanks to my beta @ultraluckycatnd she is the best!!

FFN

AO3

Killian has never been this nervous in his life. Not even when he used to perform in front of a crowd. His mind keeps taking him to the worst possible scenario. She is married with children. There's no way someone as bloody amazing as her is still single.

He finally arrives at the Estate. As he works up his nerve to knock on the door, he is met with an older man in a suit leaving.

"Excuse me, Sir, I'm looking for Emma Nolan," Killian said to the man.

The man annoyingly looks Killian up and down with a reptilian gleam in his eyes. "I'm not her butler, dearie. She is not here, she is out looking for her brat."

"I'm sorry for bothering you." Killian walks away, dejected.

After hanging up with Emma, Elsa asks around their old teachers and finds out they have been trying to find someone to do a solo performance at the upcoming event at the park.

Elsa quickly volunteered her friend. The Concert at Central Park, she couldn't believe it. For some time now, Elsa has tried convincing her friend to play professionally.

“Emma, when are you going to allow yourself to be happy again?”

“I am very happy. Thank you very much,” Emma answers.

“You know what I mean, but to clarify, I'm talking about when everyone else goes home. You're a music teacher who doesn't play music anymore.”

“I’ll think about it. Okay?”

This is the push Emma needs and besides, she did call her.

After placing posters of Hope all over the park and nearby street corners, Merlin passes out fliers with the young girl's picture and inquires if anyone has seen her. He only gets people shaking their heads no as they walk by.

Merlin notices a skinny man with shaggy hair walking with a boy roughly around Hope's age and decides to approach them. "Excuse me, I was wondering if you or your son had seen this girl?"

The man looks at the flier and dismisses it with a wave of his hand.

Merlin studies the man's movements. There's something wicked about the man and sets off alarms in his head. He doesn't like the fact there is a young boy around that type of person.

As they walk away, Henry turns to Walsh. "Was that a picture of Hope?" the boy asks.

"Mind your business, you didn't see anything, okay? If you want to stay on my good side, that is," Walsh threatens the boy.

Henry knows what the words mean. Walsh will send him away and he won't have a place to sleep or food, so he nods his agreement. They walk further away in silence. The closer they get back to the theater, the thought of keeping a secret from Hope kills him. What if she can be with her family?

Walsh and Henry failed to notice Merlin had followed them at a discreet distance. He sees them go inside the theatre. Merlin makes a quick call to the police with his concerns.

Merlin looks down at his watch and returns to the park to check on Emma's progress.

A few hours later, the derelict theatre is raided by the police. The police managed to capture most of the kids, but Walsh manages to escape. Henry and Hope evade the police together, finding refuge in a church.

Hope and Henry find an empty pew to sit on in the back of the overfilled church. Hope’s ears perk up when the choir begins singing. Henry puts a protective arm around her as they listen to the music.

Hope rests her head on her friend's shoulder. She wonders what they would do now. There had been so many cops and she knew if they had caught her, they would return her to her foster home. But she was on a mission to find her parents and no one was going to stop her from finding them.

The music stops and Henry nudges her to stand up. They have to find somewhere to sleep and some food would be nice. "Hope, come on, let's go. We need to go find shelter for the night. I don't think the theatre is safe anymore."

Hope nods. "Do you think anyone else got out in time?"

"I don't know. There were so many cops and everyone scattered. Maybe?"

As the kids were leaving the church, a man wearing some sort of gown blocked their exit before they could make their escape. "Hello, children," He says with a warm smile.

Hope and Henry share a look.

"It was a beautiful practice. We have a talented choir. I'm so sorry, I have failed to introduce myself. My name is Father Hopper."

"Hello," Hope says.

Henry looks between them. "I'm Henry, Hope's brother."

Father Hopper nods. "Your parents must be worried sick. I can escort you both."

"Oh, that's not necessary. They are probably outside waiting for us," Henry says quickly as he extends his hand for Hope to take.

Hope grins as she reaches for Henry's hand.

Father Hopper steps aside hesitantly.

The kids try to make a quick escape.

"I know you both came in alone. I know there are no parents."

Henry and Hope stiffen and are about to run out of there.

"Please, don't go. You are safe here. We can offer you sanctuary. At least for the night. Mother Superior has an empty cell we could offer you."

Hope pulls on Henry's hand.

"Follow me and I will escort you to her. Mother Superior will take you to your cell, but perhaps a snack before bedtime?"

At the mention of food, the kids' stomachs growl at the same time.

They follow him through some long halls. He knocks on a door and a petite woman opens the door.

"Father Hopper, what can I do for you?" the woman says with a smile.

"Mother Superior, I found these kids, and they are hungry and in need of a place to sleep."

"Oh, hello children. You can call me Blue."

"Like the color?" Hope asks.

"Yes, like the color. And what should I call you?"

"My name is Hope and this is my brother Henry," Hope answers.

"Okay, follow me to the kitchen so we can get you something to eat," Blue says with a small smile on her lips.

Once in the kitchen, Mother Superior, or Blue as she prefers to be called, makes them some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with two big glasses of milk. She doesn’t say a word, just observes them, and the children are happy for the quiet.

The kids eat the sandwiches hungrily. Once they finish, she takes them to the room they will be sharing.

“Goodnight, children,” Blue says as she closes the door.

Once the door clicks, Henry turns to Hope. “We have to be out of here before they come to check on us. If we wait any longer, they will call the cops.”

“Okay, we wake up early and make a run for it,” Hope says in agreement. She was happy she was no longer alone. She wished Henry was really her brother.

After sleeping a few hours, Hope wakes up. She squeezes her eyes shut trying to fall asleep for a little longer, but the music is calling her. She pushes the blanket off and quietly leaves the room to make sure she doesn’t wake up Henry.

She walks the halls as quiet as a mouse. It doesn’t take her long to end up in front of a big piano. She slowly approaches it and caresses the keys.

“Do you play?” a voice from behind asks.

Hope slowly turns around to face Blue and shakes her head no.

“Do you want to try it?” Blue asks.

“Yes,” Hope says without hesitation.

Blue grabs the sheet music to find something easy to play, but is startled as Hope plays a sweet melody that warms her heart.

Once Hope finishes playing her inner song, she turns to Blue with a shy smile.

“Well, darling. Aren’t you full of surprises? I thought you said you didn’t know how to play?” Blue says teasingly.

“I don’t. I’ve never played the piano. I had a flute once, and played the violin. In school, I wanted to play on the piano, but I haven’t seen anything as big and beautiful as this.”

Blue nods. “Hope, this is an organ.”

“This is an organ? I thought an organ was inside of us?” Hope says, scrunching her face.

“Well, yes that too, but this is a church organ,” Blue answers. “Where did you learn that song?”

Hope shrugs. “I don’t know. I just hear it all the time.”

Blue nods and hands Hope the sheet music. “Can you play anything from this?”

Hope grabs the sheet and looks through the book. Without knowing, she picks the hardest song to play. After finishing playing, Hope turns to Blue. “Was that okay?”

“Hope, that was perfect. You are very talented. I believe you are what’s called a prodigy.” Blue sighs. “We know you and Henry are alone. Hope, the safest place for both of you is with Child Protective Services.”

Hope shakes her head. “ I don't wanna be sent away. We don’t want to go. You don’t understand, I just want to find my parents! I know they're out there somewhere. The music is what I hold on to. And I can't let go. Somewhere inside me, I know that the music in my heart came from them, and I know they always wanted me. Maybe they just got lost, but my song will help me find them.”

“I understand. I truly do but being on your own, there are bad people out there. My job is to make sure that you are safe. Both you and Henry.”

Hope shakes her head defiantly. “If you send us back, we will only run away again.”

“There is something I can do to help you. There’s this wonderful school where they would welcome you. You could play your beautiful song for them.”

“What about Henry? Can he come too?” Hope asks.

“I’m sorry Hope, but I don’t think so,” Blue answers sincerely.

The boy in question appears. “It’s okay, Hope. You should go. Maybe this will help you find your parents,” Henry says with a sad smile.

Hope runs to him and hugs him tightly. “When I find my parents, I will ask them to help me find you.”

Blue clears her throat. “Let me make some calls.”

Once Blue is gone, Henry speaks up. “I’m sorry, Hope, but I have to go now.”

Hope nods. “I will find you, and we will be a family.”

Emma makes two very important calls. One to Merlin for any updates and the other to Elsa.

“Mr. Wilde, I understand. Your department's doing everything they can. Please keep me posted.”

As soon as Elsa answers, she tells Emma the news about The New York Philharmonic.

“Emma, I know it’s just for one night, but they want you back.” Elsa waited for her friend to freak out, but got the opposite reaction.

“Elsa, I know the perfect piece. Maybe she can hear it. You know she has Killian’s beautiful blue eyes. She is so perfect and I really want to find her. I used to swear I could hear her all this time. I know she was trying to reach out to me," Emma says, crying.

Elsa sighs. “I know you will find your little girl.”

Taglist:

@itsfabianadocarmo @xsajx @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked @let-it-raines @revanmeetra87 @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @kymbersmith-90 @branlovestowrite @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @ilovemesomekillianjones @thisonesatellite @thesschesthair @winterbythesea @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @superchocovian @lfh1226-linda @artistic-writer @thislassishooked @shardminds @winterbaby89 @xhookswenchx @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @wellhellotragic @xemmaloveskillianx @courtorderedcake @pirateherokillian @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @andiirivera @djlbg @nikkiemms @jennjenn615 @scientificapricot @officerrogers @imlaxdris71 @therealstartraveller776 @kday426 @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @donteattheappleshook@spacekrulesbians @lassluna @carpedzem @captainodonoghue @killian-will-do @jarienn972 @tehgreeneyes @demisexualemmaswan @queen-serena88 @swanslieutenant @tiganasummertree @whimsicallyenchantedrose @bethacaciakay @ohmakemeahercules @jrob64 @klynn-stormz @mariakov81 @sals86 @elizabeethan @brooke-to-broch @hookedonhiddles @onceratheart18 @the-darkdragonfly @veryverynotgoodwrites @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @cocohook38 @karlyfr13s @beckettj @chasedancer17 @lonelyspectator12 @batana54 @gingerpoliglot

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vickyvicarious · 4 years

Note

well now I have to headcanon that Killian enjoys cooking

(Regarding this gifset.)

Anon I agree. I very much agree. To a... schmoopy amount, so prepare yourself.

Emma spent most of her adult life living alone, and a decent amount of her childhood essentially raising herself. She’s gained a lot of skills from those experiences - the useful but depressing stuff, like clocking liars and abusers from ten paces, how to get a good deal at a pawn shop, how to shoplift, to break into cars, how to fill the silence with music so loud you stop thinking about how lonely you are, how to fire a gun, exactly how far ten dollars can stretch if you need. Sure, she’s learned all that.

But some of the stuff is just plain useful. Emma’s known for a long time how to manage her money, how to do laundry, how to keep a house clean, how to sew up rips in your clothes to make them last longer, how to cook. Some of those skills she hasn’t needed in a long time, and others she doesn’t use much just because she doesn’t like to, and she no longer has to. Still, even if she doesn’t especially love cooking, for example, she isn’t actually forced to live on takeout. Before Storybrooke, that was more of... a choice.

(Eating alone in your own home has never been something she’s liked. At least in a bar or a restaurant, she could hear other people, watch them.)

Living with Mary-Margaret, she wound up cooking a little more often, and during her time in New York she remembers making dinner with Henry most days. He was pretty awful in the kitchen himself, could burn water, so she didn’t let him do anything too important, but it was more about the companionship. Even having him doing his homework in the kitchen while she whipped something up was just as good. Sure, there was still pretty regular order-in days, and they ate out sometimes, but for the most part they actually had real meals together. She remembers making a decision to do that when he was still small, to always set aside this time to cook and eat together and share their days.

It was a curse memory, fake, but Emma liked that routine. Even after moving back to Storybrooke, at least once everything eventually settled, she tries to keep that going. She still doesn’t especially love cooking - it’s more about the end result for her, having that time to sit down together as a family and enjoy something you made together.

So when she and Killian started living together, she made sure to tell him. Emma wanted him to know everything that mattered to her, wanted him to be involved in it. She... also wanted to know ahead of time, if he was terrible in the kitchen and shouldn’t be allowed anywhere nearby. His other household skills were a bit of a hit-or-miss. He was really good at cleaning, but could never remember when to take the trash out. Maybe she expected him not to have any skill with plumbing or cleaning out the gutters, or using a washing machine, and to be fair he learned those all pretty quickly, but she was surprised when it turned out Killian didn’t know how to fold anything neatly. If a lightbulb went out, he usually just ignored it, lit an actual gas lantern if there wasn’t enough light. He actually had a lot of interest in how to decorate the house, but hated changing the thermostat for some reason, preferring to just wear more layers if it got cold.

Anyway, the point was - she was pretty sure he’d be fine with the idea of family dinners, knew he’d be willing to help even if it were just via setting and clearing the table and doing the grocery shopping, but she wasn’t sure if he’d be interested in actually making the food. And more than that, she wasn’t sure he’d be any good. He had, after all, lived most of his life on ships that had actual cooks to take care of that kind of thing. It might just be something he couldn’t do.

She definitely didn’t expect the way his face lit up at the idea.

“That sounds brilliant, love,” he told her. “You’ll show me how to use everything?”

Of course she agreed, and Killian had always been a quick learner (which was why she kept finding herself surprised at the chores he never seemed to pick up). So the way she only had to explain each modern cooking implement once was not a surprise. He was good with a knife, so she put him on veggie duty, and they made a simple but tasty chicken dish. Nothing unusual, pretty much the kind of cooking she always did. Quick and easy, healthy enough, didn’t taste amazing but definitely not terrible either.

When they sat down to dinner Killian’s face did... something.

It wasn’t quite a sneer.

It also wasn’t quite not a sneer.

“Well, it’s alright,” he said.

Those comments became increasingly common over the next few days. Emma’s pasta sauce was “a tad runny, but not bad,” and her tacos “could use a bit more spice,” and her ribeyes were “perhaps a little too long on the stove, love?” and her Sunday morning pancakes needed “a splash more buttermilk, I suspect.” Killian wasn’t picky, he ate every bite, and he didn’t exactly nag her about her cooking. Just one or two comments, not necessarily even directed at her so much as him musing aloud about the food. But every side dish he made tasted amazing, even if it was just a simple salad, and he very clearly had opinions and it wasn’t like Emma even liked cooking all that much anyway. She’d never claimed to be a genius at it. But she’d never admitted to being bad either, and the little snubs over and over got increasingly irritating until one day she just snapped that he should be in charge of dinner then, if he cared so much.

Killian instantly looked contrite.

“I don’t want to step on your toes, love,” he said. “If you enjoy cooking - just maybe another shake of the pepper next time -”

“I don’t like cooking,” Emma snarled, “I just like eating together. Except I’m liking it a lot less when I’m constantly getting criticized!”

“Oh,” he said, a little taken aback. “Oh. Well, then.”

And then he completely took over.

It started with him making her own staple recipes, just being the one in charge of the actual meals. He told her she didn’t have to help if she didn’t want to, and Emma was pissed enough to agree that she wouldn’t. Except then the simple pan chicken she’d been making for ten years came out tasting like it never had before, and there was this sort of lemon-y sauce with it? And he’d made asparagus and some kind rice pilaf thing as well, and even though he claimed he’d just “tweaked it a little” it was so clearly a completely different meal. A better meal. Definitely.

He went through all her favorites like that, completely elevating them beyond anything Emma had ever dreamed of making herself. They took longer, of course, but unlike her he didn’t care. He’d be in there for an hour or more; she’d hear him singing sea shanties to himself as he kneaded homemade bread. Whenever she (begrudgingly, at first) complimented his cooking he’d get this very sweet smile on his face. He rarely seemed satisfied with his own efforts either, still making little comments about how it was a shame the bread had come out a little too chewy, after all -

It was ridiculous. And that was before he started trying to recreate various meals he’d eaten over the course of his long life, a wide variety of vastly different foods he cobbled together from memory and instinct alone. She started helping him out more often, definitely over her irritation at this point and dipping right into fascination. She liked to watch him think, the way he’d dip his hook into a sauce then suck on the tip with his brows knitted together, before adding a little more of some seasoning or other. Now that he was in charge and no longer holding back out of respect for her feelings - or whatever the hell he’d been doing at the start - he’d talk through his decisions. Whether that was muttering aloud about needing more garlic, or telling a long and convoluted story about the first time he’d had this particular curry in a tiny dockside tavern and then delayed leaving port until he could at least partially figure out the recipe from taste alone - thus setting off a chain of events that led directly to his first near-death experience at the hands of mermaids. When he’d come back five years later, the tavern was gone.

Their spice cabinet grew, and their fridge filled up. The pantries too, and the cooking implements, though that happened more gradually. They’d started off with a coffee machine that automatically brewed a pot every morning; five months into living together, Killian acquired a French press and, always an early riser, ground beans himself every morning as she woke up. By the time she got out of the shower and downstairs, he would hand her a cup with exactly the right temperature, flavor, and timing. This went along with the breakfast he’d made, of course.

Emma bought him a set of cookbooks for Christmas; Henry got him some kind of complicated food processor that led to a sharp increase in soups and smoothies and sauces. His repertoire increased. Instead of going to Grannies for New Year’s Eve, they had a party for their family, and Killian went all-out on making a giant feast with Emma and Henry as his hapless assistants. She tried to tell him New Year’s was really more about partying than dinner, but he insisted he didn’t care and made a roast. It was obviously delicious, everyone who hadn’t had much of Killian’s cooking yet lost their minds a little and he alternated between incredibly smug and that familiar bashful grin. Later, they had some kind of pudding for dessert, and played board games for a while until everyone had digested enough to actually move - only then did more traditional festivities commence. They drank, danced, sang, all watched the ball drop and shouted the countdown together; and Emma kissed Killian at midnight, feeling a sharp burst of joy that finally, she could have something like this. Starting a new year surrounded by those she loved, and who loved her back, laughing giddily and dancing together with her parents and her son and the man she’d fallen so so hard for.

But even that paled, honestly, to the next morning. They hadn’t bothered with attempting to clean up, just waved everyone out the door where they’d stumbled down the street in a loud, happy cluster. Emma’d sent Henry to bed, then grabbed Killian and yanked him to their bed, and they hadn’t gone to sleep right away at all. When she did eventually fall asleep, it was blissful and slow, sated in every possible way - and well into the night.

When she woke up, late, it was to an empty bed, sunlight filling up the room. Going downstairs, she heard that familiar low croon from the kitchen; stepped over the streamers still scattered on the living room floor and rounded the corner to see Henry slumped at the table, yawning over a plate of pancakes. Killian at the stove, timing his song to a flip of the newest pancake. She could see blueberries in it. Coffee and orange juice waiting for her at the table. Bacon. Three different kinds of syrup.

Emma started crying.

Henry jerked up out of his chair, rushing to her in a panic. He held her arms and called her over and over, “Mom, mom, what is it?”. Killian moved the pan off the heat so it wouldn’t burn then came over to her too, gently touching her arm. He didn’t say anything, just looked at her.

“Mom, please,” Henry said, and pulled her into a hug - and he was so tall now, so much bigger than he’d been when he found her all that time ago. “Tell us how we can help.”

She shook her head, unable to speak clearly enough to explain they already had, that absolutely nothing was wrong and it hadn’t been for a while now. She didn’t know how to tell them exactly how monumental it felt, walking in here and seeing them both calmly engaged in such a familiar routine. How she’d woken up alone and had been doing so for months and never once worried Killian was gone. She knew he was downstairs, making breakfast.

Emma didn’t know how to say this was the moment she finally realized she had made a home, found a family, and that neither was ever going to be taken away. She didn’t even know why this was that moment, after all the more significant events they’d been through. It didn’t make sense that her deepest doubts would suddenly be banished by a simple breakfast she’d had countless times before.

“You made my favorite,” she sobbed instead, hugging Henry back tightly. She pressed her cheek into his hair, reached out to catch Killian’s hand and tried to blink past her tears to meet his gaze. “I-it’s my favorite breakfast.”

So stupid. So insignificant, after everything, so small, so - so important somehow, the most important thing in the world. Killian had made her favorite breakfast. Henry was there to eat it. Emma hadn’t cooked herself or asked him to make blueberry pancakes specifically or for either of hem to share this moment with her, hadn’t done anything besides sleep in. And it didn’t matter. Here they were, and Henry was always sleepy in the mornings but affectionate still, and Killian’s cooking was delicious and he always sang during and Emma loved them both so much.

Henry held onto her tightly, swayed on the spot a little. Killian reached out to wipe away her tears. He moved his hand to Henry’s shoulder, squeezed gently until he stilled, and then touched the back of his hook gently to her cheek and leaned over Henry to kiss her. Soft and slow.

“I know, Emma,” he told her after, smiling so soft and his voice rough with emotion. Emma had no doubt that he understood exactly what she meant; that he knew just what she couldn’t say and he felt that wonder too. That same incredible contentment, somehow more stunning than the fiercest joy. “I know.”

#captain swan #cs ff #ouat #my fic #replies #anonymous #i haven't written an askbox cs fic in so long and it feels so gooood #i got really emotional with this one i dunno. not what i was thinking when i started it at all #but yes killian cooks #also i know there are tense errors and stuff. i wrote this straight into the response box and have not edited. will get to it later

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thejollyroger-writer · 4 years

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Heart and Soul - Part 1 - A CS Concert Series Fic

SUMMARY: Private music teacher Killian Jones wakes one morning to the sound of his ten year old neighbor playing the bane of his existence: the recorder. In order to keep his sanity, he offers to teach Henry to play any other instrument -- though partially because it means he gets to spend more time with Henry's mother, Emma Swan.

TW: mentions of alcoholism, abusive parents, backstory that goes a little deeper than necessary

a/n: This fic was inspired by waking up one morning over the summer to hear my neighbor playing the trumpet -- though, thankfully, Sam is a much better musician than a beginner recorder-player. I complained about it on discord, and bam! this story appeared, a joint effort between myself and Meredith (@captainsjedi) . Even though she was unable to help me finish it because of her busy work schedule, her ideas are riddled through the story, not to mention the incredible art she made for it.

Thanks to @csconcertseries and @clockadile, who gave me a reason to finish this story!

-- -- -- -- -- --

There aren’t many unusual things Killian truly hates.

Sure, he hates things like seeing horrific stories on the news, bigots, and people on the road who don’t utilize their turn signals. But those all seemed fairly normal within the realm of things that are passionately disliked.

The one standout thing he despises, however, is the recorder.

His animosity toward the instrument — if one can even call it an instrument — feels like a betrayal to his career at times. He spends his weekdays teaching both children and adults to play music, helping them discover hidden talents and find as much comfort and happiness within the notes as he does. The piano and the guitar are his most popular contenders among students. But he’s also had a bit of experience teaching violin and harmonica, along with one memorable incident with the drum set in his basement that resulted in several complaints from the neighbors.

Recorders? He intentionally keeps a fair distance from those.

If he’s being honest, it’s probably hindered his career a bit over the past few years. Since he moved to Storybrooke and word got out across the small town that he was a music teacher, he’s had countless parents approach him whose children had brought home recorders from school, asking him to give them lessons to improve their playing and put the rest of the family out of their misery.

Killian has always declined. He’ll offer to help by teaching the child another instrument instead, but recorders are out of the question. It’s simply not worth his time, not when there are so many better options available.

Needless to say, he’s less than pleased when he’s woken up before seven one morning by the sound of “Hot Cross Buns” being played on the dreaded instrument.

Something’s not right. He has to be hearing things, isn’t he? The house to the left of his is vacant, and the one to the right is the home of his neighbor and her son, the latter of whom should be resting as much as he can before the beginning of his school year.

What reason would he have to be playing the recorder this early in the— bloody hell, he thinks to himself. Yesterday was the first school day for the year. He should have remembered considering the extensive adjustments he's had to make to his schedule from lessons over the summer.

Killian doesn't know all that much about Henry Swan and his mother. They'd moved into the house next door last fall and the lad had introduced himself not long after. He knows that Henry is about nine or ten years old, is a student at Storybrooke Elementary School, and is a Star Wars fan, judging by the number of printed t-shirts he's seen him wearing when they come across each other arriving to and leaving their respective houses.

He knows just as much, if not even less, about Emma Swan. Only that she works as a sheriff's deputy for her older brother, and favors beanies and leather jackets during the fall and winter months. Killian assumes that she’s single considering she and Henry are the only two occupants of the house, and he’s never seen any visitors there aside from her family.

Which is a relief, because he's also infatuated with her.

Perhaps that’s a bit of a stretch considering the few interactions they’ve shared. Killian is aware that he doesn’t exactly know her well enough for any type of infatuation to really exist. But that doesn’t change the fact that she’s managed to make him feel like an awkward schoolboy who can’t maintain some sense of dignity around a girl.

Their most recent interaction had taken place the Monday prior; he was getting ready for his morning run when Emma returned from what he assumed was the night shift at the sheriff’s station. She’d given him a brief smile and waved as she unlocked her front door. He was so surprised that he tripped and almost fell over his shoelace that he’d forgotten to tie thanks to the unexpected gesture.

(It was hard to tell whether she noticed. He’s hoping the answer is no.)

All of this to say, he likes the Swans. But he’s not sure just how long he’ll be able to tolerate what has to be Henry and his recorder, especially this early in the bloody morning.

Of all the songs in the world, what would bring him to choose “Hot Cross Buns” anyway?

Killian gets his answer a few weeks later. Every afternoon since the end of the school year save one or two (plus a few choice mornings), he’s been treated to the sound of Henry attempting to play a number of different songs, each one a tad more annoying than the last. There’s been “Yankee Doodle,” “Skip to My Lou,” and, oddly enough, “Jingle Bells.”

Something has to be done before Henry tries to learn “Baby Shark.”

He knows he should act his age and learn to embrace his young neighbor’s new hobby. (Or buy a good pair of earplugs.) After all, Henry’s a child, and Killian is glad he’s chosen to dedicate part of his free time to learning music.

But he really needs to choose a different instrument.

It’s what leads him to knock on the Swan’s front door on a Saturday morning a month into the school year. Emma and Henry are both home judging by the yellow Volkswagen Beetle parked in the driveway and the squeaky recorder notes coming from an open window on the second floor.

Emma answers the door. Her blonde hair is tied into a messy knot on the top of her head, and she’s sipping coffee from a bright red mug and wearing running shorts and a faded t-shirt that he’s willing to bet are her pajamas.

He’s never felt more attracted to her. But that’s not the reason he came by.

“Oh, hi, Killian,” she greets him, eyebrows shooting to her hairline. Her reaction makes him consider if he should have given some kind of notice before coming over.

“Good morning, Swan. I’m sorry to bother you this early, but I heard the lad playing and assumed you were both up.”

“Yeah. He’s been at it for a while.” Emma bites her lower lip and glances back and forth from him to the staircase he can just make out behind her. “I’m really sorry if he’s been annoying you with the music recently. I’ve suggested he only play later in the afternoon, especially since I've been trying to have the windows open more often so we don't have to keep running the air conditioning, but he always makes some comment about liking to start his day off with music, and I hate to discourage him when he’s finally found a hobby he’s enjoying.”

Hearing these words causes Killian to feel guilty for being irritated with Henry’s playing, but it also makes the reason he came by seem even more appropriate. “Think nothing of it. I’m quite happy to hear the lad has taken an interest in music. But if you don’t mind my input, lass, I think he could do well with a more versatile instrument that allows him to explore his capabilities even further.” It’s the nicest way he can think of to discourage her son from ever touching a recorder again.

Emma is quiet for a moment, brow furrowing as she contemplates his suggestion. “I don’t think I understand— oh!” A look of realization crosses her face. “That’s right. You’re a musician, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, and he’s great!” The face of Henry Swan pops up behind his mother; he’s already almost as tall as she is. “Hi, Mr. Jones,” he says. Killian smiles at him before he turns back to Emma. “Remember, Mom? He played with some other parents at the last school fundraiser. You were there.”

Killian remembers the night in question vividly. He and a handful of other parents who played music had been asked to perform a selection of songs at Storybrooke Elementary’s annual spring event. (Emma had worn a tight red dress and heels. He was playing the piano and had come close to butchering the opening of their first song when he’d noticed her.)

She remembers the event, too, if the blush on her cheeks is anything to go by. “Yeah, kid, I remember. I just...haven’t had enough caffeine yet this morning.” She takes a long sip from the mug she’s holding as if to prove a point.

“Aye. Well.” Killian pauses, the shift in conversation having made him briefly forget the purpose for his visit. “I was just telling your mother, Henry, that I’m quite glad that you’re interested in playing music. I didn’t know how you felt about possibly trying other instruments as well? Guitar, piano, saxophone, triangle…” he trails off.

He knows the bare minimum about saxophones and doesn’t think Henry would actually want to play the triangle. But he’ll offer to give him harmonica lessons so long as he never touches a recorder again.

Henry considers his suggestion. “I hadn’t really thought about it. Miss Greene just gave us the recorders to take home so we could practice.” (Killian knows of the Miss Greene he is referring to, and resists the urge to message Tink and suggest she not guide her fourth graders in that direction ever again.) “I guess it would be cool to play something else though.” He smiles up at Killian. “Do you think if I tried to play the piano that I could be as good as you someday?”

Killian’s heart swells with pride at the boy’s admiration. Truth be told, he’s been complimented for his talent on numerous occasions by all kinds of people from different walks of life. But something about hearing his abilities praised from a ten year old with excitement in his eyes means more to him than any recognition has in quite some time.

“Perhaps,” he tells Henry. “If you utilize as much practice and dedication as you seem to be doing for that recorder, I’m sure you’ll be a seasoned pianist in no time.”

Killian is so thrilled by the smile that spreads across the lad’s face that he almost misses the wince that crosses his mother’s.

Almost.

“Henry…” she starts, her eyes turned down to the ground, and Killian’s eyes are drawn to her hands wringing in front of her.

“What, mom? Mr. Jones wants to teach me how to play the piano, please let me learn how to play the piano!”

The shadow of a smile crosses over her face, but it doesn’t stay. “It’s not—” she pulls her bottom lip up between her teeth, gently sucking on it for a moment before releasing it and finally raising her eyes to meet Killian’s. “We don’t have a piano, and, well… I don’t think we can afford to get one for him to practice on.”

Henry’s expression, his shoulders, his excitement, physically fall. “But mom, don’t—”

Killian doesn’t even let the boy pose his argument, because he already has the solution — hopefully a solution that works for all three of them. “That’s really not a problem, love,” he says, his smile growing when her bright green eyes start to sparkle with the hope he is giving her son. “As it happens, I just bought a new piano for the studio, so I have one that I’m hoping to get rid of. If you want it, it’s yours.”

It’s not quite the truth: he has his baby grand in his living room, the one that he practices on himself; and he has the two uprights in his studio, one much newer than the other, and as much as he has wanted to replace the older one with an updated model, he hasn’t gotten around to it. Getting rid of one of them wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, and it would certainly clear up some space in the basement, though it would keep some of his students from practicing while he’s in another lesson.

But with the smile that grows across Henry’s face, and Emma’s to match it, the little white lie seems like the worst of his problems. Because, gods above, he has it bad for this woman.

Moving the old upright piano from his basement to the Swan’s living room the following Saturday proves much more difficult than lying to them about it. It’s an adventure that requires his brother, Emma’s brother, and Emma — and not, he doesn't fall to notice, the man who he assumes to be Henry’s father, who shows up with the boy right as they’re struggling to get through the front door.

Killian hates him before he even opens his mouth to speak, seemingly the only one to notice his run-down dark green pick-up truck parked by the curb while he stands in Emma’s entryway, trying to keep the piano from tipping over. The only one to notice him, sitting in the driver’s seat and making no motion to get out, even as Henry jumps down from the passenger seat and begins collecting his soccer gear from the back seat.

“This thing really doesn’t look like it would be this hard to move,” Emma’s brother — David — grunts, trying his hardest to help ease the piano up over Emma’s front step.

“Oh, come on, Nolan,” they all hear from behind them, everyone else finally noticing. “You having a little trouble with that?”

“You know, Cassidy,” David calls out, and Killian notices a vein in his forehead popping out as they try to lift it from the bottom and up the single step. “You could always get your ass over here and be helpful.”

Emma laughs from the other side of the piano. “Yeah, right.”

The guy in the truck laughs louder, turning his head in a way that makes Killian sure that he’s staring at Emma. His words make him even more sure: “I prefer the view from where I am, actually.”

“Asshole,” David says, either a bit louder than he meant or exactly as loud as he meant; Killian has a feeling it’s the second.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Henry asks, dropping his soccer stuff on the porch behind Emma. At least the lad has manners, Killian tells himself, finally guiding the piano into the entryway. He gets them from his mother.

“Just stay out of the way, bud,” David tells him between gritted teeth, the three of them pushing the piano the rest of the way through the door.

“Are you the lucky lad who gets to play this piano?” Liam asks once they’ve all made it into the entryway, Killian tossing one last glare towards Henry’s father pulling away from the curb as he closes the front door. When he turns to Henry, he’s beaming.

“Yep! Killian offered to teach me so he could stop hearing me practice the recorder every morning!”

The bluntness of Henry’s statement pulls a laugh from all of them.

Henry takes to the piano like a fish to water, which doesn't surprise Killian in the least. The lad is bright, Killian has learned that just from talking with him during their time as neighbors, but when he is able to play most of his scales and "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" by their second lesson, he knows he has stumbled upon true talent.

And spending time with his mother certainly doesn't hurt, either.

(The way her laughter carries through the open windows when Henry plays through a song brightens up his days in ways he didn't think was possible anymore, as well, but that's a secret he plans to keep to himself for a while.)

But by the end of September, four o'clock on Tuesday comes by slowly, especially since his and Emma's schedules have apparently shifted so they're never coming or going at the same time, but when she answers his knock on her door, he immediately feels a calm wash over him. Sure, he feels his heart in his throat, and when she smiles at him and takes a step back to let him in the house, he can swear that he has never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.

Shit, he's in deep.

"Hello, love," he says, returning her smile as he steps through the doorway.

"Hey, Killian," she says back, leaning back against the door to push it shut. "I, uh, thought I already said something to you, but Henry's not here right now."

"Oh." He tries not to let his upset show on his face. This time that he spends with Henry Swan and his mother has become the highlight of his week, but since Henry isn't here, he assumes that means he should go home.

But neither of them move.

He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, as it does every time he's found himself in this gorgeous woman's presence, and he counts the moments that pass through his heartbeats: one, two, three, four.

"Where is the lad, if you don't mind me asking?"

She shrugs, still physically blocking him from leaving. "He's with his dad."

"On a Tuesday night?"

She looks down at the floor, holding out her hands out into her line of vision. "We’re going away next weekend with David and Mary Margaret, so it’s to make up for the time he’s missing. But believe me, he would much rather be here with you."

“I’ve only ever heard him say good things about his father.”

“Do you really think that he would tell a stranger about the bad things?” she snaps, and he reels back immediately, regretting ever bringing it up in the first place. Biting the tip of his tongue between his teeth, he tries to push memories of doing the same thing from his mind, tries not to think of all the times he wanted to tell someone other than his brother of the way he was being treated — and he, of course, remembers the embarrassment that came whenever someone tried to bring it up.

Killian thinks back to the only time he’s met Henry’s father, after helping move the piano into their living room, and he begs once again that this man is nothing like Brennan Jones.

“Of course,” he says finally, his voice soft with regret and the memory of his own father’s drunken escapades, and he swallows the memories down like bile.

A beat passes between them, long enough to make Killian sure that he should simply excuse himself and go home, but it’s the last thing he wants to do.

“Do you want to come in for lunch?” she blurts, her eyes quickly flitting away from his when he tries to find them.

“Pardon?” He’s not thrown off by the question, really, as much as he is the sentiment.

“I just — I feel bad that I forgot to tell you that Henry’s with Neal, and now you don’t have anything to do for the next hour, and I was already reheating some of Marg's soup and making sandwiches, so I can — you know what, just… forget it, forget that I asked—”

“I would love to.”

The look on her face when she finally brings her eyes to meet him makes him sure that his acceptance is the last thing she expects.

Her kitchen is much more welcoming than his, bright and colorful with the fitting smell of chicken soup wafting from it. "Grilled cheese alright?" she asks, moving past him towards the fridge after gesturing for him to take a seat at the table.

"Is it ever not?"

The twinkling laugh she lets out actually seems to brighten the kitchen even further, which he would not have thought possible.

"I knew I liked you for a reason."

If the words affect her nearly as much as they do him, she hides it well, moving daintily through the kitchen to gather the rest of the supplies for the sandwiches. He is thankful for the moment of silence that passes between them, noticing for the first time the soft music coming from a small speaker on top of the fridge — he half-recognizes the song, he thinks from Harry Potter? — as he regains his composure, settles the pounding of his heart in his chest.

"What made you start playing music?"

And just like that, the pounding comes back. It's an innocent question, one that he gets asked a lot, and one he usually brushes over with a mention of his mother and her affinity for the piano. But, in the welcoming warmth of Emma Swan’s kitchen, he finds himself wanting to tell her everything, wanting to tell the whole story for the first time in a very long time, all the broken bottles and broken promises and broken wrists, the happy songs and the sad songs and one too many damn funeral marches, the drunken spat with the drunken man that almost made him lose his hand, and the life of sobriety that he swore himself into, exchanging his hatred for one parent with his love for another.

And then he hears the words coming from his mouth, a poisonous story uninvited into this space, into this wonderful woman's life, but it becomes the edited and abridged version as quickly as he can save it: "My father wasn't the nicest man, though he treated my mum the worst of all of us, and in order to find some semblance of peace in the world, she taught herself how to play the piano. And she taught me, too. Tried to teach Liam, but he was never very good at it. So it became a stress relief for me, and I just kept finding new instruments and learning how to play those to keep myself from spiraling, and when it came time for me to figure out my place in the world, music was the obvious answer."

She hums from her place at the stove, slowly stirring the small pot of soup with a wooden spoon. The movement of her nodding head is small, almost enough that Killian wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t watching her so intently. Somehow, he can tell that she wants to say something, maybe has a story like his own that she’s trying to piece together into a semblance of something normal, and he doesn’t push her.

“I get that,” she says finally, still not turning her attention away from the stove. He doesn’t mind; he’s not sure that he’s ready for that level of intimacy, for looking at each other while sharing their backstories — quite the jump from the casual neighborly hello’s and short conversations they have shared by this point. “That’s why I run, even though sometimes it makes me want to die. It was the only time I had alone when I was in—younger, and it’s still the only time I can do something and not be drowning in my own thoughts the whole time.”

He wonders about her slip of the tongue, the eloquent way she caught herself — and the way she straightened her back slightly as she corrected herself.

But the last thing he wants is for her to question anything that he said, so he’s certainly not going to say anything, only watch her as she reaches into a cabinet to pull out two bowls, pouring some soup in each of them.

“That’s how I am with the piano. When I sit down in front of it, it’s like my whole brain shuts down and there’s nothing except the music. My mum told me she was the same way when I got a bit older, and it explained why I would wake up in the middle of the night sometimes and hear her downstairs on the old upright the church donated to us. And Liam says the same thing about being behind the wheel of anything.”

When she finally turns towards him, a bowl of soup in each hand and a smile on her face, he knows that he has finally found someone to understand.

And he could not be more ecstatic that it is Emma Swan.

-- Part Two will post as soon as I finish it! --

tags: @let-it-raines @shireness-says @wellhellotragic @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @teamhook @profdanglaisstuff @thisonesatellite @superchocovian @carpedzem @darkcolinodonorgasm @resident-of-storybrooke -- if you want to be tagged in part two, let me know; if you no longer want to be tagged in my works, just send me a message!

#captain swan #cs fics #ouat #cs ff #ouat ff #cs concert series #music teacher! au #teacher!killian

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theonceoverthinker · 4 years

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A Winter’s Snowball (CS Role Reversal)

Summary: It’s unusual for love to be in the air just outside of a ball meant to inspire it, but that’s how the Charming family has always worked, hasn’t it?

AO3 Fanfiction.net

A/N: Hello, OUAT fandom! It’s great to be back, and just in time for the @csrolereversal!

What? Did you think you’d get rid of me so easily? As if!

AND LOOK AT THE AMAZING ARTWORK THAT INSPIRED THIS, YA’AL!!! ALL of the props in the world to my super awesome artist, @clockadile. Clockykins, what can I even say? I love this artwork. It’s an incredible mix of the classic Captain Swan aesthetics as well something so new and fun! The watercolors are gorgeous, and give off this amazing fairy tale feeling that works so well with all things OUAT! It really helped me to make this piece the quirky thing that it is.

()()()()()()()()

If there was one thing that Snow White was more certain of than anything in regards to her daughter, it was that she did things her own way. It’s what Snow loved about Emma the most -- Emma was hardly the ambiguous type, always upfront with her feelings and at-the-ready to follow her gut and her heart.

David joked that it was something the two of them had in common, and Snow wholeheartedly and unashamedly agreed with the sentiment, proud of all that it entailed, especially because in so many respects, they truly were different in so many other things.

For instance, they had different approaches to their kingdom’s grandest of celebrations.

Balls were fun for Snow and David -- remarkable events with elegant dances, decadent food, and encounters from all over the kingdoms of the world that brought with them memories the attendants would have for life. Rooms came alive as conversation, lights, and music beamed all throughout their castle. Snow was positively invigorated by everything about them, from the planning phase to the final bits of cleaning the castle’s halls up.

However, while they were fun for Snow, they weren’t so much for Emma, as she was often one to tell them. It wasn’t that she hated her dresses, the idea of dancing, or even the socializing -- quite the contrary in those respects, since she loved those things at times where balls weren’t being held.

No, what she disliked was actually what Snow loved the most -- the grandeur of it all. Emma compared balls in their castle to what would happen if an entire circus or bazaar was shoved into their dining room, calling it “too much to handle at once.” In her defense, she wasn’t wrong. Balls could serve as courtship openings, family reunions, dances, and managerial work all at once.

Oh well, not every daughter was like her parents. She supposed it couldn’t be helped.

At least Emma was like her where it counted.

That’s the conclusion Snow reached upon seeing Emma playing in the snow of all things from the balcony, in any case.

While Snow loved balls with all of her heart, even she wasn’t about to say no to a short break from one after a few hours, and few spots in the castle served better to hide away in during those breaks than the balcony just outside the ballroom. It was private enough where she could get a moment to herself, yet close enough to the festivities that if she was needed, she could be there within moments. And the view from this balcony in particular was simply gorgeous. Their castle was blessed with a luscious garden, and while the snowfall that started this morning and persisted until the start of the ball had covered the lovely bushes of flowers there, it left the ground with a beautiful blanket of snow amidst the garden’s many arches and gazebos that was quite the sight to take in all the same, and much of it was captured so well by that balcony’s vantage point.

Snow had spent a few minutes there by herself, enjoying both the quiet that now surrounded her and the cold and crisp nighttime air. It was so peaceful there that if not for the ball inside, she’d have been content spending the entire evening out there.

But all of the sudden, that placid atmosphere was interrupted when she heard a sound from down below.

It was a man’s yelp.

Immediately, Snow’s attention moved to the previously peaceful ground.

Her speedy reaction was rewarded when she saw a young man emerge from below the balcony, now hurrying across the formerly clean landscape.

“Y-your Majesty!” he cried, his right hand massaging his shoulder where a bright spot on his otherwise dark navy jacket appeared to be.

And then she heard a second, quite unorthodox sound.

It was her daughter’s voice.

“For the last time, Killian, it’s Emma!” Emma barked through a chortle. Something then flew from her form to his, something small, and something fast, but something Snow also couldn’t quite see -- that is, until it hit him in the chest.

Yes, the man -- Killian -- filled in the remaining blanks of her sight with another yelp.

“Bloody hell, that’s cold!” he shouted, as what was clearly now a snowball made contact with the space just above his ribs.

“Not used to the winter?” Emma asked, the hand that held her snowball now resting against her hip.

“Not at all,” Killian answered, seemingly coming down from the chill that the snowball birthed in him. “My work tends to keep me in warmer climates.”

It made sense, now that Snow thought on it. The way he was dressed spoke of a military profession, and if Snow remembered correctly from his introduction alongside his brother earlier in the evening, he was a lieutenant.

Hmm. A princess and a lieutenant -- how unorthodox.

Snow wasn’t surprised though -- after all, this was her daughter.

And they looked cute together.

“But,” Killian continued, “I will say, though the winters here are merciless, they are indeed beautiful all the same, just as you are, Your Highness.”

Instinctively, Snow’s hand shot to her mouth.

Killian seemed to instantly tell what he has done wrong as well, as a sound -- not of any existing tongue, but one that could only come from the worst of realizations -- left his mouth not three seconds after he addressed Emma.

Bless this young man’s heart -- Snow knew he was quite earnest and liked him already, but she knew her daughter well, a Emma was never one for royal titles.

“I-I!” Killian started saying, trying to cover up his tracks.

But Emma crouched to the ground and rolled up another snowball, clearly not about to let him get away with it.

“Looks like the lesson hasn’t sunken in yet,” Emma said, seemingly very excited about what was to come once more. “Good thing you like the winters here, because here’s another taste of them.”

Killian tried to catch the snowball with his hands, but was woefully unprepared for Emma’s speed. After all, lieutenant or not, no one could compare in a snowball fight to the girl who cornered her own father when she was only nine.

And so another snowball hit him, this time square in the chest. Another followed seconds later, just above Killian’s right bicep. A third hit just seconds after that, this time on his left knee.

Despite every part of her upbringing telling her she shouldn’t Snow couldn’t help but laugh as she watched the scene before it.

“Emma, Emma, Emma!” Killian yelled. “That’s your name! I promise to Poseidon that that’s all I’ll ever call you from now until my dying days! As far as I’m to ever concern myself with, the only name you go by is Emma! Will that suffice?”

Snow could hear her daughter chuckle as she approached Killian.

“Well,” she said, “when you put it like that, how can I say no?”

Killian’s breathing was so loud that Snow could hear it from the balcony, but while it was heavy, the last thing she expected to see was him fall to the ground from exhaustion.

That made it all the more startling when that’s exactly what happened.

“Killian!” Emma cried, her tone quickly shifting from lighthearted to worries as she now ran over to help him. Snow covered her mouth, now in freight, not daring to utter so much as a call in their direction out of fear of distracting Emma from aiding him.

This man -- he seemed so healthy. There was no way he could just collapse like this, could he?

Then again, Snow knew more than most just how powerful diseases could be in this world. It was certainly possible, and especially in this kind of weather.

Killian was right -- this weather was indeed merciless. But hopefully, it would make an exception this one time.

As Emma was checking on Killian’s situation, that’s what Snow prayed for.

Thankfully, with Emma’s help, it seemed like Killian could at least stand. Snow sighed in solace as she watched them rise from the ground, snowflakes sticking to their clothes, imprinting themselves onto them like fingerprints to a blade.

Few things were ever as much of a relief as seeing someone come through a scare like that. And though she cared for Killian’s fate, Snow was especially relieved for Emma’s sake. The guilt of feeling like one caused the death or even pain of another was something Snow would never even wish on her most vicious of enemies, let alone her own daughter. Words couldn’t begin to say how good it felt to know that Emma wouldn’t feel that way tonight.

“Thank you, Emma,” Killian said, just barely audible enough for Snow to hear. “I’ve worked with strong sailors before, but you’ve quite the powerful throwing -- and apparently, lifting -- arms on you.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Emma retorted, smiling and winking all the while.

Killian slowly stood back from her, as if testing his balance after his fall. Fortunately, he looked to be stable enough standing on his own, another relief in a moment filled with them. He and Emma smiled at each other, and Snow relaxed her elbows upon the balcony’s edge.

“I promise you I shan’t again.”

Emma turned and looked out towards the rest of the snowy garden, possibly in search of a bench or something they could sit down on.

Snow was tempted to call out to them and see if Killian needed any further assistance as opposed to letting him linger on outside in the cold, but before she could, she saw something in Killian’s right hand. It was obstructed by the night’s sky, but she knew what it was.

Oh, Emma!

Killian smirked. “But,” he continued, “I’ve quite the strong arms myself, and one thing you ought to know is that there’s only one thing a man can say after enduring an attack like that -- revenge is a dish best served cold!”

And with that last sentence, a muted snowball flung through the air and landed right in the middle of Emma’s back.

It was now Emma’s turn to yelp, and yelp, she did.

“Eep!” she screamed, jumping forward, only to trip and land face first into the snow.

Snow covered her mouth again, though unlike the previous times, she was unsure if it was out of shock, amusement, fear -- for Killian’s sake, that was -- or all three.

“You sneak! You planned that!” Emma shouted.

Killian’s smile had grown into a smirk so large, it bordered on a grin.

“Aye, love. Charming though you may be, I can’t let you get away with your crimes so easily.”

Despite Killian’s retaliation, Emma met it with a smirk as she got up and wiped the snow away, half shocked and half cocky.

“Something you ought to know, Killian -- Charming is my father, not me. I’m more of the vengeful type too. So trust me when I say you’re going to PAY for that!”

“Assuming you can hit me again,” Killian cheekily retorted, now smirking at her as he rolled another snowball into his grip. Snow realized as he did so that one of his hands was fake, but he was so adept at it that she hadn’t even noticed it. She wondered if Emma did. “Looks like I’m adapting quite well to these winters, aren’t I?”

“I’d say so, but let’s put it to the test, shall we?”

“Ready whenever you are, Emma.”

Emma said nothing, simply crouching down to grab another snowball of her own.

And then, the fight began.

Killian took off running, making sharp turns as he ran through the gardens, with Emma hot on his tail. The garden’s smaller space kept the game exciting, and kept them close to each other the whole time.

Snow had a feeling they liked it that way.

She certainly did.

For minutes on end, Snow watched them run around, laughing as their various snowballs hit and missed each other without reason or rhyme. It was so exciting to watch that she had completely let the time fly away from her, perhaps for too long given her role at this ball.

And someone took notice of her absence.

“Sn-o-ow?” David called in a sing-song fashion, walking out from behind the curtain onto the balcony, and gently pulling Snow close to him. “I was wondering where you went off to. And where’s Emma? It’s almost time for desser-.”

The finale of that sentence never came, as David grew quiet upon looking out into the expanse of the garden below them, clearly realizing what he was now bearing witness to.

As David studied the two of them, Snow eyed him warily. It was always impossible to tell how David would take things regarding Emma’s love life, and especially under such unconventional circumstances, even Snow was at a loss for how he would react.

After a pregnant pause that followed his glance at Emma and Killian, David looked to Snow, and then back to them, and then back to Snow.

“Are they having a snowball fight?” he finally asked, more confused than any other emotion Snow could so much as hope to discern from him.

“Yes, they are, David,” she answered, careful to keep pride and support in her tone.

David nodded. “Okay. Just wanted to check.”

Then, his reaction came out, and in a way Snow never expected it would -- he smiled.

“You know,” Snow said, positively beaming from his reaction, “when I pictured our daughter falling in love, I probably should’ve considered that beating whoever it was over the head with something was a possibility.”

“You didn’t?!” David cried, mock surprise littered in his voice.

Snow playfully smacked David’s chest, but settled back into his embrace not five seconds later.

“At least the snow won’t leave a scar, unlike the one my lovely Snow did,” he continued.

Feigning shock, Snow turned from him, her mouth agape and a hand to her collarbone. “Are you trying to get kicked out of this ball? Because if you are, know that you’re going to have a far worse time outside than they are if you do.”

David kissed her temple.

“No, I know my wife. She would never kick me out of a ball, and if she did, I would just take her with me.”

Snow chuckled as she once more snuggled up to David and looked out at Emma and Killian in the garden.

“Do you think we could take them in a snowball fight?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” David answered. “We’re the ones that taught Emma to throw a snowball in the first place.”

“That may be so, but she’s better at it than you.”

David scoffed, though his smile betrayed him. “She got lucky once, and you two have never let me live it down since then. I could take her.”

“He’s good, too. You should’ve seen him get the jump on Emma earlier.”

“Whose side are you on?!” David teased, nudging Snow.

“I’m just being realistic!”

The two of them broke down in laughter, watching as Emma and Killian came together in much the same way.

A powerful gust of wind brought Snow’s attention back to the fact that outside of their little bubble, there was still a ball going on, one they were needed at more than they were on this balcony.

Snow sighed as she sadly looked at David, who was already giving her the same look she knew she herself carried. Balls were wonderful, but she was starting to understand why Emma found herself able to ignore them so easily in favor of having such a wonderful time outside.

From atop the balcony, Snow could see Emma snuggle into Killian’s side, nuzzling her face into an unmarred part of his uniform for warmth while his arms surrounded her. Despite that chill, they looked so warm together.

Still, all it took was another gust to remind Snow that while it was lovely outside, it was indeed cold, and these winters were gorgeous, but intense all the same.

“We should make sure they come inside,” Snow said. She didn’t know how she’d broach the topic, especially since it meant revealing that they’d been watching the two of them for however long they’d all been out here.

Thankfully, before Snow needed to put too much effort into it, David beat her to the punch, at last breaking the silence between the two couples for the first time.

“Hey, guys!” he shouted.

Never before had David seen two people stop what they were doing faster than Emma and Killian as they jumped apart from their embrace and straightened their postures to face David. It was almost enough to make Snow keel over in laughter.

David smirked.

“They’re serving cake now, and it’s going fast,” he continued. David then turned to Killian. “The first thing you should know about Emma is that she cannot ever be held back from her desserts without serious repercussions.”

The smirk dissolved into a smile, one that grew as he saw the tension drop in both of their shoulders. Emma smiled at him, moving closer to Killian once more.

Killian let himself smile as well.

“Well, in that case, we shall be right up!” he called out. “Can’t have Emma going without a slice. She has too good of an aim to chance the consequences.”

Emma started laughing, a laugh that Snow recognized well. It was a laugh that spoke of such happiness, such hope, and Snow couldn’t be happier to hear it.

From below them, Emma and Killian made a start for the nearest entrance back into the castle, and while Snow and Charming came back into the ball, Snow made a point to request to one of the servants that a set of matching towels be brought to the door closest to the garden. And while the servant gave her a look, all Snow could do was smile and shrug.

After all, her daughter did things her own way, and as it turns out, so could she.

#ouat #once upon a time #captain swan #cs #emma swan #killian jones #cs role reversal #csrr

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