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#and he never even got to know he was alive!!! he had his jolly roger on his arm!!! inside his name!!!!!
franeridan · 11 months
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doodling ace and suddenly having a lil mental breakdown over him, daily occurrences and all that
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bucket-barnes · 8 months
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Memories: Calista Jane Hook
(It seems my inspiration always strikes during my classes- enjoy the completion to the memories trio I thought up during my finals)
CJ would be the first to admit that she didn’t really remember her mother, though she looked the most like her, she was the only one of her siblings to get their mother’s blonde hair and most facial features, but there’s one thing her siblings have that she doesn’t…the memories
CJ doesn’t remember how old she was when her mother died, just that she was young, her memories of that time are spotty. She remembered Harry sitting by their mother’s bedside and bringing her small little trinkets and talking to her, she remembered Harriet taking them to Ursula’s fish and chips and her yelling at the men who made fun of their father. There was really only one memory CJ had of her mother dying that was truly her’s, sometimes, her father would lift her up and sit her on her mother’s bed so CJ could cuddle with her, she’d always put her little head on her mother’s chest where she could hear the fluttering of her heart while her father ran his hand through her mother’s hair…she remembers liking those days. The day her mother passed, CJ was being held by Harriet who kept whispering to her that everything was gonna be ok while holding back her own tears…why was she crying? Why was their father crying? Why was Harry hugging him?
CJ was seven when she became her father’s shadow, or…at least whenever Harriet would let her know if their father was feeling good enough to be above deck. CJ was aware of her father’s alcoholism, she knew it made him angry, and when he was angry she had to stay in her room with Harry while Harriet dealt with him. CJ liked her dad on the days he didn’t drink, he’d sit above deck with her and tell her stories of all the adventures he went on, sometimes he’d teach her how to sail, though only while the Jolly Roger was anchored, her favorite days were when they’d go into town and her dad would take her to watch Gaston’s “duels without rules” something he didn’t do with her siblings, only her…it felt special
CJ was thirteen when she snuck into Auradon, she was honestly surprised they hadn’t found her yet, she was hiding in Freddie’s dorm room. She missed her siblings, she wondered about them a lot…not like she could do anything else. She’d think about Harriet, was she worried about her? Was she getting along with their dad alright? How was Harry? Were the voices getting too much? Was he even still alive!? When CJ found herself starting to spiral, she’d pull out the one thing she had from her mother, a little photo of her as baby in her mother’s arms. She’d run her finger over the photo and study it…she really did look like her
CJ never joined her father for a drink, she had rum once with Harry and she thought it was gross, so she just sat with her dad on the deck of the Jolly Roger and listen as he drunkenly rambled about everything in life that had done him wrong. It was a chill spring night, and CJ was sitting with her father, he had been a couple drinks in and had begun to cry, crying about his pain, the pain of losing his wife, the pain of his eldest daughter having to grow up too fast, the pain of his son hearing and seeing things that weren’t there…and the pain of his youngest daughter never truly knowing her mother. CJ didn’t want to see her father cry, so she scooted closer to him and put her head on his shoulder, he eventually wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer to him, she let her head fall onto his chest…she could hear his heartbeat, it reminded her of when she was little, with her mother, only his wasn’t a gentle flutter, but a low, sorrowful drum, echoing with a lifetime of loss
CJ fell asleep in her father’s arms that night, she may not have known her mother…but she got to know her father, maybe not who he wanted to be, but who he became.
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chromotps · 8 months
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*immediately pounces on you to talk about CoraLaw bc no one else does anymore (at least, not on Tumblr and not English speakers)* I wanna know so bad how adult Law and Cora would interact bc that'd seem so interesting. Especially on a Cora Lives AU. Imagine coming back to life to find out the boy you saved turned out to be a pirate and a(n) (ex)warlord but also a doctor slash (advanced, bc of his devil-fruit lmao) surgeon. It was probably what most would expect what Law would occupy when he was given the devil-fruit (minus the whole pirate and warlord thing I guess) but at that time all Cora expected and hoped what law would be was free. And thinking of that, Cora would realise just how much Law had grown and how he's far from the kid he was then and how little he knows about the man (not that he knew much about Law even when he was a kid anyway, both their pasts were a touchy subject for them but they did get to know each other a little bit and got close, and at that time that was enough for both of them. They didn't need to know about each other's past or something to love and care for each other. I'm not saying your past defines you but sometimes it kinda does. Not fully, no, but it does help shape you into what you are now). And Cora realises that he missed out on so many things. They both wanted to live together, fully and freely. But Law spent 13(?? Or so) years without him but also, Law hadn't been exactly free, not when Doflamingo was alive and Cora-san's death was a wound that will never be healed. Yk what I'm spitting nonsense at this point and I'm probably projecting but yuh... I just badly wanna know how adult Law and Cora would interact when Cora steps into the light again (AKA brought back to life lmao).
Argh I wanna talk about them but I don't know what to say!!!! These idiots make me cry and sob and scream and smile and laugh and I cannot get them out of my head.
But oh! Regarding of their relationship dynamics, I do love the idea of Law being so openly devoted to Cora (and also possessive and obsessed but the latter is almost a fact that he doesn't even need to so anything or say anything for anybody to notice. I mean, look at this guy. He has tattoos dedicated to his lover. The Jolly Roger on his ship is dedicated to his lover. One of his techniques is dedicated to his lover. He steals hearts because his lover's name is Corazon which means heart in Spanish. Yes the last is a HC of mine but idc he'll still be obsessed even when my HC is removed lol). Idk if Cora would leave a kiss mark on anywhere on his skin he'd leave it there until it gets accidentally (and only accidentally, if anybody tries to wipe it off he'd replace their heads with a mop) wiped off. Cora would also be open about their relationship and would proudly gush about his lover who grins when he's kissed on the nose and could cuddle whenever Cora wants to (then he'd introduce said lover to the people and they're a bit shocked to see a 6 foot tall emo looking mf—). They'd fr be the Mom and Dad of the Heart Pirates. But that doesn't make them any less troublesome lmao.
...I had another thought pop up in my head and I— sigh... thinking about Strawhats meeting Cora and him and Sanji bonding over make-up (implied Zosan. Yes I did just imply Zosan without saying anything that could imply Zosan. I'm brilliant. Also implied Genderfluid Sanji. I love my HCs). And also— what. What does that have to do with– sorry, I was talking to my brain bc it suddenly brought Cross Guild Polycule (+ Shanks) in too. I remembered a fanart where Crocodile, Buggy and Cora were talking about jewellery and make-up while their significant others (Mihawk, Shanks and Law) are staring intensely at them xD not sure if that was a ship fanart tho! Also, I made it into Cross Guild (+ Shanks) polycule bc I can *blinks cutely*. So yeah. Just Bottoms bonding over treasure, jewellery, cosmetics and maybe their lovers (Pls we don't get enough Bottom Cora fics I am begging on my knees for them—).
I am making zero sense and I'm yapping at this point but *breathes heavily* I love talking about CoraLaw. I need more fanart. I need more fics. I need more content, posts about them. I– *dissolves into thin air*
hello!! wowza that's a lot of headcanons ahaha. I need to organize my answer lmaoooo
My brain caught on one of the points you made about adult Law and Cora—like, how surprised Cora would be at Law being a pirate. Maybe, after only really having Doflamingo as an idea of what pirates are like, Cora is a little... not disappointed, but like, worried when he finds out. Part of that worry goes away when he sees that Law isn't cruel. But he does slowly understand that, like you said, Law wasn't totally free after living with all that anger and guilt. I think I saw a post a while ago that talked about how Law never claims that he wants to be the King of the Pirates or anything—his "dream" was really just to avenge Cora, and might not have expected he'd survive after that. SOOOOOOO. I think once Cora totally catches up on who Law is as an adult (and realizes he still loves him :3c), he forces Law to sit down and have a conversation about what his new dream should be—it isn't about what he'd die for anymore, but what does he want to live for? Then, I guess the headcanons could be anything... maybe they decide they want to focus on bringing medical help to people who need it, and Law becomes some kind of renegade pirate doctor who goes into places the world government has quarantined... i don't know!! the world is their oyster!!
Ah... the two of them being lovey-dovey around the Heart Pirates........;w; I do also like the idea of them being a little secretive about it, at least maybe at first—like, Law is such a private person, and he doesn't want to "share" Cora after just getting him back... even if it's his own crew just seeing Cora blush or something, haha. And I love cute, open-with-his-feelings Cora, but also liked that rough side of him that would curse out useless doctors and stand up to Doflamingo—I could see him actually being more flustered than Law telling others about their relationship... Like, Cora is talking to Sengoku over transponder snail, and saying stuff like "yeah... I'm... kind of getting dinner with Law tonight. Yes, that Law—don't laugh, damn it, Dad!" and struggling to get his words out. Then Law comes up and takes the receiver from Cora to say, "Then we're gonna make out afterward. Have a nice evening," and hangs up.
my brain is unfortunately too obsessed full with ace/lu and lawcora to come up with anything fun for those other characters, but I'm sure someone out in the world could add on! I'd also love more fics for themmm. I know sometimes you have to "make your own food", but I'm still too deep in my Ace Era to do anything about it yet haha
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treatian · 1 year
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The Chronicles of the Dark One: The Delicacies of Time
Chapter 9: An Unfair Trade Off
Hallow. Empty. Tired. Brittle.
That was what his experience left him with.
He felt as though he was the shell a snail had just crawled out of and left for nothing on the bottom of the ocean floor. Lost. Drifting. Without purpose.
Until he placed his hand in his pocket because he could no longer ignore the sharp pinch of metal against his leg and pulled Belle's necklace from it. The effect of it, when all was said and done, was minimal, but it was enough to get him up off the floor of his cell and sit down. The effect may have been minimal, but it at least reminded him that no matter what his brain told him, there was still part of his heart alive and well in the world...just as Nimue had said.
He felt like he'd run a marathon without any kind of training. And all for what? He sat there in his cell, his body spent, the memories sorted, and the...irrelevant ones...stored away
It hadn't been worth it. The time it had taken, the toll it had claimed on his spirit and his mind, it hadn't been worth the trouble.
The goal of allowing all of that to happen, the hope he'd had, was that in mining Bae's memories, he might glean some kind of idea about what was happening, some semblance of how he'd been resurrected and how he'd gotten back to Storybrooke. He'd hoped he'd learn how Zelena had gotten her hands on the dagger. Hell, he would love to know how Belle's necklace got into his pocket! And he'd hoped, prayed even, at that the other end of this, he might be able to alter the situation he currently found himself trapped in.
But the memories he'd experienced, the things he'd seen, and the emotions he'd been assaulted and pained by. They vastly outweighed the knowledge that he'd garnered from those memories.
He knew his son's life now. Everything he'd ever wanted to know and everything he'd never needed to feel. And then there was everything he could have lived a lifetime without experiencing firsthand.
After the portal had taken Baelfire as a child, he'd been on the streets of England in the Land Without Magic. Bae had felt confusion for him there, anger had been his strongest emotion, but it had still been mixed with love for the life they'd shared. That was what made his betrayal all the more painful to Bae. His son knew that he loved him. He just knew that he'd loved his magic more. And experiencing the few brief happy memories he'd had with the Darlings in England when he'd felt like he finally had a family worthy of him stung in a terrible way he knew he'd never get over.
But it was short-lived. Bae had to go and play the hero, had to rescue his new brothers and sister from the magic that rapped on their window every night. He'd been so scared by it, his life so torn apart by magic that he couldn't bear another family suffering the same way he had. So, he'd gone with Pan's Shadow. The very creature he'd spent all his life trying to protect Bae from, and in the end, when he hadn't been there, Bae just walked into his open arms! Willingly! At least until he'd gotten to Neverland.
Baelfire fought back until he was dropped into the ocean, land only in his very distant sight. He'd have drowned if not for Hook. To think that at one point, Bae thought he'd been lucky to stumble upon that cur! That he'd had feelings for him. Hook was the one who taught him to sail the Jolly Roger. It was Hook who started to teach him to use a sword, but Bae taught himself the rest after he learned the truth about Hook and Milah, after he learned the lies that his father had told him.
He felt every dreg of loneliness that Bae felt on the island. The images of him sitting alone in that cave, cooking over a fire, carving to fill the timeless void, the nights he stayed up going over his life again and again so he wouldn't give into the temptation to just give in and be with Pan. He remembered Margery and her boys fondly. He thought of Wendy and her brothers often. He tried to force every thought he ever had of his father away even as he knew he had to cling to it lest the island make a truly lost boy of him. Bae blamed him for it, for all of it, his entire situation! If he'd just gone through the portal, too, then he would never be on the island! When he wasn't busy casting his father out of his head, he'd been busy filling it with fantasies of what life would have been like if his father had gone with him. He was convinced they'd have opened a clothing shop. That Bae would have been the salesman, and his father would have done the spinning, weaving, and mending. They'd have gotten a dog and lived next door to Wendy and Michael and John. They'd have been best friends. He wouldn't spend endless night after night, hour after hour, minute after minute scavenging for food, lonely, and trying to forget at the same time he tried not to forget.
Bae felt trapped on that island, he was restless. But eventually, he saw that restlessness pay off. The way he knew the island, how he'd snuck into the Hallow and began to formulate a plan to capture the Shadow and get off the island, the deal he'd made with the Shadow turned his stomach. His father made deals like this. He wanted nothing to do with his father, wanted nothing to do with magic or deals or Neverland. But he wanted out, wanted to move on and grow up. A deal with the only creature that ever came and went freely seemed the only way to do it, only...
The shadow leaving him in New York felt like an island all its own. The world had changed since he'd been gone. Cars, trains, airplanes in the sky, there were machines everywhere, big and small, green was a non-existent color the second he stepped out of Central Park, phones were preferred to letters, even the clothes he wore, and the name he possessed were all wrong.
He'd gotten by for a while, stealing and pickpocketing. He called himself Neal Cassidy. He'd read the name in a book somewhere, and it stuck. The first time the cops picked him up and put him in the foster care system, that was the name he'd given them. And so it was history. They put him in a foster home with a couple of people happy to claim the money for caring for him and six other boys. But things weren't better. He had a roof over his head and something called a bunk bed to sleep in, but no one cared for him. Soon enough, he was starting to worry that he might be crazy. The Enchanted Forest, Neverland, England…perhaps he'd made it all up in his head. Perhaps he'd crafted a grand but untrue story about his past like so many of the other kids that he encountered in similar situations.
His caseworkers had all said the same thing about him "has problems with authority figures." It always made sense to him, he felt like he was older than he looked. He felt like he'd lived every year of the hundred or so that had passed in his fantasy world. Who was anyone, let alone some thirty-five-year-old couple, to tell him what to do? He ran away. And then he got caught and rehomed and ran away again. Then again. Neal had lived with three foster homes and finally in a group home before he'd escaped for the last time and got good enough running from the cops to stay on the run. He stole cars to get by, some high school kid taught him how to do it. Stolen cars were good for under-the-table cash, and they were also useful for sleeping in when the wind was too wild or cold, and he couldn't find a good enough place to bed down for the night. It was in the back of a stolen Mercedes that he'd first gagged because he realized his father and Margery…
Reliving Baelfire's realization of that made his own cheeks redden, and his stomach turn. That memory and so many others in his head he wished he didn't have.
Bae had smoked for a while before some friend made him kick the habit because it was a waste of money. He'd done marijuana recreationally regularly and tried ecstasy at a party once but hadn't liked how sloppy it made him to the world when he knew he had to be careful, so he'd never done anything like that again.
He'd been arrested four times, mostly petty stuff. And he'd spent more than a few nights in jail. That was the hardest part about meeting August Booth, about concocting the plan to send Emma to jail. That conversation he'd had was the convergence of his worst nightmare.
Bae had slept with six women in his lifetime, starting at sixteen with some girl he'd known from a shelter who wasn't exactly his girlfriend but was certainly more than a girl friend. Six women, including Emma. Emma had easily been the highest high of his life.
From the second she let herself into the car that he'd stolen and was using as his own personal tent, he'd been in love with her. She was a kindred spirit, a girl who had no family, who had run away from her foster homes just the same as he had, a girl who was just trying to get by. She was a woman. She was the first woman he'd ever seen as a woman, and he wasn't really sure what to do with that realization other than stay as close to her as possible, make her dreams his own, and defy any threat to their happiness that crossed his path. With her by his side, he was beginning to think that they could conquer the whole goddamn world!
But August Fucking Booth...
Those words, "I know you're Baelfire," meant that his past hadn't been a dream, that he wasn't crazy, he was who he had tried to deny for so long. But it also meant that Emma had something more than the potential he saw in her. She had a purpose. If August was right, that purpose might result in bringing his villainous father here, to this world. That was nearly all the reason that he'd needed to take Emma away with him and hide somewhere. Until he found out that the "might" part had already happened. The Enchanted Forest was already in this world, all of her citizens cursed, including his father.
Oh, as far as he was concerned, his father could fucking stay cursed. August may have been convinced that the Evil Queen was behind the Curse, but that puppet didn't know his father like he did. He'd done this, played a hand in it somehow. He never wanted to see him again, never wanted to have anything to do with him. Why the fuck should he? His father had obviously wanted more to do with his magic than him! Oh, but his father always had wanted to have his cake and eat it too. No doubt that was why he'd done this, or helped with it. Why choose between his son and magic when he could have both?! No, it wasn't his problem, it shouldn't cost him Emma!
But the thought of leaving an entire town trapped because he didn't want to see his father again…it was selfish. And the thought of leaving Emma to prison like August, fucking Pinocchio, suggested, made him sick. He knew prison. And he loved Emma. He didn't know how much he loved her until August suggested he give her fate over to him.
But the feeling of being adrift and purposeless in life was something he was quite familiar with. He had no purpose. He went from one thing to another, one place to another, it was all he'd ever known. Emma wasn't like that. She had a family, one that wanted her, a community she didn't even know about that needed her. She could be a hero! He loved her. He didn't want this life that he'd lived for her. He didn't want it for anyone. So, he let her go, with a promise from August that he'd let him know how things turned out. And as much as he hated to admit it, letting Emma go might have been the best goddamn choice he'd ever made in his life.
The realization that the life he was living wasn't what he wanted to be living shook him out of a stupor he hadn't known he'd been living in. And with Emma out of his life, with every distraction gone, he got to work. He got a job. He went back to school and got his GED. He got an apartment; it was small, but after having nothing for so long, it felt huge. Besides, it was a little run down, and that made him feel like he was back in the Hovel. He got a steady girlfriend and relied on her for years until she left him because he couldn't commit, because marriage and happiness didn't seem like something that ran in the family. And then he met Tamara. And the way she talked about the future and the pair of them made him remember what it was like to want to be with someone for the rest of his life. It made him want to stop waiting for a woman who had likely outgrown him years ago when he'd handed her over to be arrested. it made him want to give his future a try if only so he didn't lose someone else he cared about. If marriage was what it took to keep Tamara, so be it.
After Tamara came the postcard from a place called Storybrooke, a bird brought it to him with the word "Broken." After more than a decade of wondering, he finally knew where Emma was. And after hundreds of years of running, he knew where his father was too. He knew that his father could come to seek him out, knew he should meet the situation head-on and get control of it before it got control of him. He should probably go there to see Emma, to finally explain what he'd done and seek her forgiveness. But he didn't. To go there was to go to where his father was, and he didn't want that. So, he stayed, and he hid. He worked and asked Tamara to marry him, and when the day finally came that his father came back into his life, he had no idea what to think of it. He'd been sitting on his couch getting ready to meet Tamara for the day when a female voice buzzed his apartment for a package he hadn't ordered, without a truck parked on the street, outside of usual delivery times...he'd just known. And he'd run. Not because he was a coward and he was scared, but just because he couldn't allow his father to have his way, to actually get what he wanted out of the Curse he'd cast. He owed him nothing, and it was going to stay that way. But then the person who tackled him hadn't been his father or a minion...it had been Emma.
And that day became the best day of his life. But not because of his father. Not because of Emma.
But because of Henry. He had a son.
And fuck, he wanted to kill August Booth for convincing him to send Emma away and depriving him of his son, but what was done was done. So what if he had to see the monster who contributed to the downfall of his life again? So what if he had to move to Storybrooke? So what if things didn't work out with Tamara?
He had a son!
He had an opportunity to be what his father never could: a man who put his child before himself. He wasn't going to be the selfish son of a bitch that his father had been.
That his father was. Maybe.
He didn't want to believe that he'd changed. He'd heard that too many times in his life to fall for it. His father was a master manipulator. There was no reason to believe a word he said. But the stabbing scared him. His father had always been a constant shadow chasing him in his head, even when he was trying to pretend he wasn't. If he died and the Curse went with him, he should be happy he could finally stop running and that something as evil as the Dark Curse would never claim anyone else's father as it had claimed his. But the thought of that shadow no longer there scared him more than Pan's Shadow ever had.
And the words he'd said to his girlfriend! A girlfriend! He'd tried to push away what he'd figured out with him and Margery, it was easy because he'd never seen the pair of them show any kind of affection toward each other, but the message that he'd left that girl! He didn't think there was anyone his dad could care about, but…maybe people could change.
Or maybe they couldn't.
Bae had kept track of every deed, good and bad, that he observed since arriving in Storybrooke. It amounted to confusion, to a father he loved but didn't want to, a father who lived by his own rules, a father who might love him but still certainly loved magic. A father who had never had his own father to provide an example.
It amounted to a father willing to give his life for a family he might never get to see be a family. That was what mattered to Baelfire. Belle's weeping after he'd died. The way no one had gone to her side and he'd wanted to but hadn't. Regina's mistake, the conclusion that Emma could go with Henry when the Curse broke, but he couldn't. The determination to get back to his son. The strange responsibility he'd felt for the woman who could barely hold herself up after his father had sacrificed himself for them!
It was a goodbye that wasn't a goodbye. He didn't care if he was going back to the Enchanted Forest or not. He was going to see his son again. He was going to come back for Emma. And he was going to make sure someone in the world gave a damn about the woman that his father had left behind.
That was what he'd gotten. Those memories, that life, the useless statistics, those were the cost for what he had wanted to actually learn, what he'd needed to learn as he sat in this cage. But what was it that he'd actually learned?
Nothing. The memories he'd had to sort through that didn't pertain to Bae's life or how he'd gotten here, or what had happened were missing.
He knew that they'd been here in Storybrooke for days. He knew that Zelena had come and gone, that she'd shaved him, that she'd been giving cryptic hints about what she was here to do. He knew that Mary Margaret was pregnant and that Zelena had an interest in her baby. But none of it made sense. None of it made sense, and it all paled in comparison to what he kept locked away in his head. To know every thought his son had about him, to feel everything he'd felt in his abandonment, to see every memory of the life he'd been responsible for through his eyes…
It wasn't worth it.
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eustasshoney · 3 years
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Ace | Sabo | Law: How they behave when they're horny ✨
I've got brainrot so now it's everybody else's problem you're welcome.
CW: Sex mentions/sexual themes ofc.
-*-
| Ace |
Ace's love language is physical touch. He cannot get enough of putting his hands on his partner, whether it be linking pinkies when walking with them, or just lying in the absolute tangle of body parts when taking a nap, he just loves to touch. So, obviously, he's just gonna get even more handsy when he's horny.
He'll be constantly hovering around you, grabbing at your waist and tucking his head into your shoulder from behind if you're busy. Leaving little kisses everywhere he knows you're sensitive (if accessible in a none private setting.) Will plant a flurry of those quick pecks on your lips which is ultimately gonna lead to deeper kisses and him steering you somewhere where things can progress.
He also gets quite quiet in the moments leading up to foreplay and the sex itself. He always finds his voice again during, but when he's trying to coax you into the mood as well, he let's his body do the talking, or speaks in low and hushed tones if he has to.
He will stare a lot when he's horny, whether he realises it or not, if he can't put his hands on you, he's eating you alive with his eyes.
He also has an extremely vivid and active imagination, and has thought himself into being painfully aroused on multiple occasions. Seriously, if he's not preoccupied and the kiss you gave him before he had to attend to duties that day comes into mind, I'd give it fifteen minutes before he's thought of several different ways the kiss could have gone had he not had to leave, and he's ready to go.
In my mind, I have this little scenario of him standing behind his partner after being given no relief all day, hands on their hips, chest against their back, planting needy little kisses up the side of their neck before mumbling, "please, baby?" In their ear.
😩
| Sabo |
Sabo absolutely loves the chase when he's horny. The longer the build up, the better the payoff in his mind and absolutely adores it if there's mutual teasing going on when nothing can be done about it.
He's definitely the type to go about his day, doing his duties as the Chief of Staff, never intentionally seeking you out, but should your paths cross he'll mutter a bombshell while walking by like,
"I can't wait until I have you to myself."
"You've done good today. I'll reward you for that later."
"You seem a little distracted, love, I hope it's not reflected in your work. I'd hate to have to punish you."
The list goes on.
Basically, if Sabo is horny, then you will be too and he's going to make you both suffer with it.
Unlike Ace, intimacy is a private thing to him, so he's not gonna make a display of being clingy and in your personal space. Nor is he gonna let on to anyone else that there's anything going on, however, if the chance of being caught is low-risk, he'll absolutely try and get a reaction out of you with people around.
Likes making you flustered, making you fumble your words and then watching as you scramble for the pieces of your scattered mind before anyone notices it wasn't just a brain-fart moment.
You probably end up with a reputation for being one of those people who talk too fast for their mouth and stutter a lot amongst the rest of the Revolutionaries, even though unbeknownst to them, it's almost always Sabo being a dick. No one has caught on yet.
| Law |
Okay. Of all three of these men, Law is the hardest to gauge when he's in the mood, because he's the master of the poker face and a God at acting like he has no feelings or urges whatsoever.
That being said, I feel like he's also actually a mix of both Ace and Sabo but... more subtle.
For instance, he won't go clinging to your person every chance he gets, but he will rest a hand on your lower back as he walks by, maybe leave a kiss on the top of your head.
He might, if he's really, really feeling it shoot some innuendos your way like Sabo will, but he's more likely praise you more than anything if he's in the mood. Little complements like,
"You've done all of this already? You're amazing, sweetheart."
"You're so good for me."
"Have I ever told you how gorgeous you look wearing my jolly-roger?"
Unrelated but Law would go absolutely nuts if you also got a tattoo of his roger, or wore the clothes he has with it on. He lowkey loves feeling like he owns you.
He generally likes working on his own without distraction, so a good indicator that he's wanting your attention is if he invites your company while he's doing paperwork, or even seeks you out and asks if he can join you while he does whatever he needs to do.
Will do things like work with a hand on your thigh, or with you in his lap.
If he gets the feeling you're on the same page, then he'll be more forward about his desires and take it from there, but as I said, as someone whose pretty discrete with his emotions, expect subtlety until he catches you're on the same vibe.
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In the Still of the Night
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Here is my contribution for the Captain Swan Neverland New Year event! You guys, I am so excited to be writing again!!!! Thank you @xhookswenchx for beta reading this baby for me.  Kudos to the mods of @neverlandnewyear for thinking up and putting together this treasure that is Captain Swan in Neverland. Tag list at the end, please let me know if you ever want to be removed or added. 
Summary: Set after Henry is safe (no Pan switch) but before the gang is able to leave Neverland. When Emma is woken in the still of the night, from dreams of a devilishly handsome pirate captain, she decides she needs a midnight swim to cool off. In which Hook and a daringly open Emma have a meeting of the mind, body, and soul. 
     Rated M          8K          ao3           ffnet          Story under the cut, promise
It was the middle of the night when Emma woke, a sweltering, sweaty mess. “Why is this island so fucking hot,” she muttered into the darkness. Having a lascivious dream about Hook had absolutely naught to do with her elevated temperature, it was undoubtedly this goddamn jungle. Now that Pan had been conquered, and Henry was safe, Emma found she was having an increasingly difficult time keeping the smoldering, blue-eyed pirate off of her mind. She needed to get back to Storybrooke, back to some semblance of normalcy... or whatever. She silently cursed Gold for not having found a way to get her father home safely yet. 
Ripping the covers from her body, she got up from her bunk below Henry’s and checked on him. Seeing that he was sound asleep, she headed topside. The deck of the Jolly Roger was blessedly deserted. Emma leaned against the railing, looking toward the vast jungle that was Neverland and she shuddered despite the hot, humid air that surrounded her. The shudder wasn’t due to the jungle itself. Since they’d defeated Pan, Hook had shown the group many of the island’s hidden beauties. He had stories for every spot he showed them, some hilarious, some melancholy, some quite ordinary, and others downright terrifying. There were quaint trails, refreshing springs and ponds, fascinating wildlife and vibrant plant life. It was actually quite a dream destination when a maniacal man-boy wasn’t playing psycho. 
No, it wasn’t the jungle causing that shudder. She couldn’t get that goddamn kiss off her mind. Emma bit her lip as she reminisced about the way his lips had caressed hers, the way his tongue had slipped into her mouth hungrily but also tenderly. A one-time thing, she’d told Hook. Now if she could just maintain that lie, because that’s what it had been. She really needed Gold to find a way to magic David’s health back so they could get off this god forsaken island already. 
She decided that the time for sleep was past, she was wide awake now, with thoughts of that damn pirate. A midnight dip would be ideal, especially while everyone was asleep. Emma left the Jolly Roger and headed toward the secluded pond that Hook had shown them. Once they’d no longer had to worry about being attacked, they’d created a regular schedule for bathing, so everyone had their own time. Luckily, no one’s time was right now.
Traversing quietly through the jungle, Emma admired the beauty around her. The greenery was lush, the effulgent dew made it seem more alive than any plants she’d ever been around. The blossoms surrounding the path were some of the largest she’d ever seen - they were dazzling pinks and oranges. She wondered if she had missed all this in her haste, fatigue, and desperation while finding Henry, or if the jungle had only come to life since the man-child was no more. 
She followed the trail Hook had shown them, until she came upon the pond that was shrouded below an overhang at the base of what Hook had referred to as Dead Man’s Peak. The name hadn’t initially inspired comfort in the group, but when David explained to them that the water at the top of the peak was what had cured him, their perspectives changed. Emma swore there must be some restorative properties here at the base because she always felt rejuvenated when emerging from the water.
Stripping as soon as she broke the tree line, she discarded her clothes beneath a tree along the sandy shoreline. Her flesh pebbled as it met the open air, and she felt a freeness as she walked to the water’s edge. She dipped her toes in tentatively, knowing the water would be agreeable as always. Emma was immersed thigh deep before diving down below the surface and swimming toward the middle. 
The water sluiced around her body soothingly while she held her breath as long as she could, before breaking the surface. Emma pushed her hair back then ran her hands over her face before opening her eyes. She enjoyed this spot, a sandbar of sorts, deep enough to cover her body, shallow enough that she could still reach, and far enough from all surrounding shore should anyone happen upon her.
The silence that enveloped her was serene and she looked up at the star filled sky. A shooting star floated across the heavens, but just as Emma was about to make a wish, the water beside her opened up as something emerged. The scream that started to bubble up from deep within her, as a hundred thoughts filled her mind on what unimaginable Never-beast this could be, was cut off by a voice she was not expecting to hear.
“Evening Swan!”
“Jesus Christ, Hook!” Emma gasped. Thank god she was in shoulder deep water. “Wait, did you… were you watching when I… you know,” she asked while motioning toward her body.
“Did I what?” Hook asked, genuine confusion furrowing his brow.
“Did you see me undressing?”
“You wound me, Swan… I would never!”
“Oh, tonight you’re the gentleman?”
“I told you, I am always a gentleman,” he claimed in a rich tone as he took a step closer to her. “Spying on a lady as she undresses would be unthinkably bad form.”
“Then where the hell were you?” 
“I was underwater.”
“For the whole time?” she asked disbelievingly. 
“Aye. I’m a pirate, love, when you live a life on the water, it’s best you be able to hold your breath for longer than the average landlubber. Never know when you might find yourself keelhauled.”
“Landlubber,” Emma scoffed, “I can hold my breath just fine.” 
“I’ve no doubt you can, just not as long as meself,” he smirked.
Emma narrowed her eyes at the challenge in his tone. What was it about this man that had her wanting to comply with his every whim? She’d held her breath for as long as she could when she dove into the water, if he’d been under from the time she’d stripped until he popped up to interrupt her wish, that had to be like two full minutes? No way, she thought, he must have come up for air while she was under.
“Bet I can,” she challenged back.
“Is that so?” Hook asked, crowding her a little more, eyebrow cocked in interest. “And just what are the terms of this bet?”
If ever asked under oath, Emma would swear his eyebrows spoke a language all their own. “If I win, I get the Captain’s quarters,” Emma replied, crossing her arms over her chest smugly - as if she’d already won.
“I told you before, Swan, you and the lad should have my quarters.”
“I don’t want it given to me, I want to take it from you.”
“Fine,” he sighed, “such a stubborn lass. And if I win?”
“You tell me,” Emma said with a shrug of her shoulders.
“Hmmmm,” he hummed, as the tip of his tongue swept along his bottom lip. “How about…” he continued, tapping his pointer finger to his lips.
Emma leaned toward him with anticipation as he pondered the terms to set. 
“I get to ask you any question I want.”
“Seriously?” Emma sputtered, head tilting to the side, it was rhetorical at best, not an actual question. “You’re taking this gentleman schtick a little over the top. I thought you’d want me to flash my tits or another kiss?”
“I told you, love, I am always a gentleman, and as such, I would never want to take a kiss from you in victory, I want it given to me, willingly. I want you to want it as much as I do.”
Emma blushed as he spoke, damn him for being a chivalrous pirate. “Whatever,” Emma muttered, “I’m winning this bet anyway.”
“So, we have an accord?” he questioned, holding out his hand for her to shake.
“Deal,” Emma said, shaking his hand. “How will we know no one cheated?”
“I do have a code, Swan,” Hook scoffed, “pillaging and plundering, yes; swashbuckling, yes; swindling beautiful maidens, never.” He held his hand over his heart as if he were making a pledge. 
Emma smiled at the actual drama queen standing before her, laughing lightly, it felt good. “Okay, so how are we doing this thing?” Hook held up his hand like he was about to take an actual oath, and Emma was half inclined to high-five him, though she was sure that was not his intent. 
“Take my hand then,” he prompted, nodding his head toward his hand. Once her fingers were laced with his, he explained that he would count to three and they’d both submerge to the bottom, first one up was the loser, and the winner would know, because the loser would release the winner’s hand to reach the surface for air. 
On three they submerged, and Emma could not see a thing. Hook was inches from her, and the only indication was his hand in hers. Feeling the comfort of his grasp in the eerily dark abyss, she pondered over the fact that she’d interlocked their fingers, instead of just holding hands palm in palm. She really needed off this island, she couldn’t be falling for him. Life was too hard for a relationship. Or was it really too hard, the rarely heard from, softer side of Emma Swan’s mind butted in. It could be so easy, this voice told her. 
When Hook had told her that he would win her heart without any trickery, Emma’s heart had beat a little stronger just for him, she’d wanted to pull him into her arms to make out right there. Alas, there had still been the issue of her beloved child to save.
Would it really be so bad to let Hook try to win her heart though? He truly was a gentleman, a pirate scoundrel sometimes too, but it was part of his charm. Plus, her lie detector said that everything he’d told her regarding how he felt about her, about what the kiss exposed, it was all true.
Emma’s mind wandered back to Storybrooke, to what it might be like to have someone who understood her, someone who was like her, to spend time with. The squeeze he gave her hand at that moment had her picturing what it might be like to walk through town with him, hand in hand. Was that even something she could still do, be that vulnerable, for the world to see her care for a man? She’d been on her own for so long, independent; free from any man who could hold her heart with the possibility of crushing it. 
Suddenly she felt dizzy, head spinning and heart pounding loudly in her ears. Had she held her breath too long, or were her outlandish imaginings too much for her stoic heart? Releasing Hook’s hand, Emma rose to the surface and gulped in the air. Pushing water and hair from her face, she panted deeply. She wondered how long they’d been down there already as Hook continued his underwater mission. Leave it to him to not only win, but really show her up. 
A full minute later, Emma began to worry. Unless she’d been down there an inordinately short amount of time, he’d been under for at least two and a half minutes. Was that even possible? Had he passed out in his endeavor to “best her”? She started to actually worry for his health when another thirty seconds passed. 
“Goddammit Hook, where are you?” she muttered.
“Miss me, love?” 
“Oh, goddammit!” she yelled as she flailed so hard, she was pretty sure she’d just flashed her breasts unwittingly. The bastard wasn’t even out of breath when he popped up right in front of her. “Stop doing that,” she laughed as she pushed his chest. “Why’d you stay down so long, you big showoff?” 
“On the contrary, I could feel you thinking down there, the amount of body language just in your hand told me you were contemplating some things. I merely wished to give you enough time to escape, should this game have become too much for you.”
“Escape?” she scoffed.
“Now, now, Swan - we both know of your affinity to run,” he said lightly, no accusations or contempt in his voice.
“Says the pirate who sailed away when asked to be a part of something,” Emma retorted. 
“I came back, didn’t I?” he questioned with a raised eyebrow. “You, on the other hand, left me to be eaten by a giant atop that beanstalk.”
“You’re so dramatic,” she laughed. “I made a deal with Anton to release you after ten hours, I just needed a head start, in case you…” Emma’s voice lowered to a whisper, not wanting to voice her early assumptions about his motives and intentions.
“In case I betrayed you,” Hook finished. 
“Sorry,” she whispered, looking straight into his eyes, imploring him to believe the sincerity of her words. Although she’d had her reasons at the time, it didn’t make her feel less terrible now. 
“Long forgiven, milady,” he whispered in turn. Then, in the next breath, he was back to the cocky pirate she knew. “Now, I do believe I won, and per our accord, you owe me the fee of one truth.”
“Congratulations,” Emma offered, extending her hand to shake, “you won, fair and square.” No trickery, she thought. Then she crossed her arms over her chest, which was still underwater, so it didn’t make her look menacing at all as she jutted out her chin and raised both eyebrows in a silent challenge to do his worst. 
“Why thank you, Swan. Hmmm, what shall I ask you?” he spoke, as if pondering his many choices. “There are truly so many things I wish to learn about you, I want to know everything, really.”
Emma’s eyebrows lowered as a shy smile crept over her face. It was stupid, she knew, but having this man before her, admit that he wants to know everything about her made her feel… cherished, adored, wanted. It was a foreign feeling after so many years of being alone. “Well, you only get one free question,” she said, trying to deflect the saccharine sweet feelings he was stirring within her.
"Pity, that, but I do remember the terms of our agreement. I do have one question picked out that I simply must know the answer to, before I endeavor to learn more. Fair warning, I may not have an Emma Swan internal lie detector,” he said as he leaned in closer to her, “but as I told you before, you are a bit of an open book, so I’ll know if you’re twisting the truth.” 
“I would never,” Emma objected dramatically, holding a hand over her heart as he had so often done when feigning injury to his pride.
“Good,” he replied, taking a step even closer. “Then tell me, love, when you said our kiss was a one time thing, did you mean it? And if you did mean it when you said it, do you feel the same now?”
 His close proximity was making her feel a little less confident than the facade she was putting on, but Emma didn’t break the heady eye contact he’d made, a beautiful shade of blue, looking into her, reading her. And how was the kohl that rimmed his eyes unaffected by the water? She might have to pillage some of that from him, it put her realm’s cosmetics to shame. God he was gorgeous as the moonlight shined down on them, she’d never noticed the hint of red to the scruff along his sharp jawline. “That’s two questions,” she murmured breathily as she thought of nibbling along that jawline. 
“Shall I rephrase?”
“Oh, the hell with it, I never meant it,” she confessed as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her bare chest against his and kissing him soundly. 
As their lips collided hungrily, over and over, Emma was pretty sure she heard Hook mumbling thanks to the gods. She felt a little of that same relief, as she finally admitted that denying herself this thing that she wanted was ridiculous now that everyone was safe. Running her fingers through his thick hair, she gave it a little tug, angling his head so she could deepen the kiss. The groan he elicited was sinful and it kind of made Emma want to rub herself all over him. 
Instead she ran her other hand over his chest, deciding to take her time, she’d wanted to feel that chest hair since the first time she’d seen it proudly on display. It wasn’t quite what she expected since they were both wet and it was matted to his chest. She smirked when he jumped, his hand tightening involuntarily in her hair as she ran a thumb over his nipple. 
“A little sensitive, Captain?” she teased, looking up at him through her long lashes.
“Aye,” Hook chuckled, “‘s been awhile.”
It’d been a long dry spell for her as well. And it’d been even longer since feeling any true emotion when with a man. It had merely been scratching an itch for so long that she was a little scared what this all meant. The tingling, unadulterated want she felt in every nerve of her body far outweighed the fear though. “Touch me,” she whispered as she wrapped both arms around his waist.
 “Bloody Hell, you’ll be the death of me, woman,” he muttered as he kissed her once more. He wrapped his good arm around her and pulled her in close. Trailing a path from her mouth to her ear, he bit gently on her lobe, and it was his turn to smirk as a shiver ran through Emma’s entire body.  “Would you be opposed to taking this back on land?” 
“We just got clean, I don’t want sand in every crack and crevice,” she giggled while wrinkling her nose. 
“Aye, that would be less than optimal,” Hook agreed, “though the place I have in mind won’t get your nether regions sandy.”
“What’s wrong with right here, right now?” Emma challenged. She was pulled up short when Hook’s cheeks went pink and he scratched behind his ear as he did so often when he was feeling slightly unsure of himself. Truth be told, Emma found it cute, although she’d never tell him that, she doubted the fearsome pirate captain wanted cute to be correlated to his reputation. 
“It’s just, I’d rather…”
Brushing the hair from his forehead, Emma smoothed her thumb over the worry line that creased his brow.  “What’s wrong?” she asked. When he made no attempt to answer, Emma decided to employ his own tactics against him. “Try something new, Hook. It’s called trust.”
Emma internally cheered as one of Hook’s mega watt smiles overtook his face. The smile that showed those adorable (another word she was sure he would not want associated with him) dimples, and crinkled the corners of his eyes. 
“Touché lass,” he conceded, “I’d rather be able to have use of all my appendages.”
Emma raised an eyebrow, gazing very obviously in the direction of his most manly appendage. “Ummm, it felt like it was working just fine to me.” 
“Christ, Swan,” he chuckled, “I assure you, everything is ready, willing, and able in that department. I’d like my hook.”
Emma’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened as she thought, not for the first time, about what that hook would feel like against her heated skin. 
“It’s okay, love, if it repulses you, I can just wear the brace without the hook.” 
Emma shook her head, a frown downturning her brows and her lips, “Stop-”
“But I assure you,” Hook continued without letting Emma speak, “if the hook repulses you, the wound will surely-”
Emma’s hand over his mouth was more effective in shutting him up. “Stop it,” she demanded, “right now.” 
Hook was a little taken aback by being commanded by the fiery version of Emma, he’d seen her fiery side before, and he liked it, he liked every part of her. He wasn’t taken aback by her fire, rather he wasn’t used to being bossed around. He was the boss. But as he stood there, with her hand over his mouth, he realized he’d follow her orders any day. 
“Do you think I’m unaware that you don’t have a left hand?”
Hook shook his head in the negative, since her hand was still covering his mouth.
“Do you think I’m so shallow as to be repulsed by your hook or your brace or your wound?”
Hook took longer to answer this time, contemplating what he’d said and what she was asking. He supposed his words may have left room for misinterpretation. Slowly shaking his head no again, Emma removed her hand from his mouth.
“Good,” she stated simply, reaching for his left wrist before he even realized she'd made a move. 
His head spun when he felt Emma’s touch upon his scarred flesh and his knee-jerk reaction was to pull away from her grasp. He struggled to find the words through the haze. “It was not my intent to imply you are shallow, Emma. It is my own reticence.” 
“Trust me,” she whispered as she took his left wrist again. Wrapping both of her hands around his forearm and blunt wrist. Emma repeated the words comfortingly as she placed the arm he was so ashamed of between her breasts and held it there, where he could feel her heart beating. 
“Your hook, your brace, or just this,” she squeezed his wrist, “has no bearing on how I feel about you. I care about you, Hook.” Her voice sounded shaky, even in her own ears. “You came back for me, you helped save my son, you make me feel wanted, you make me feel good about being me.” Removing one hand from his damaged skin, Emma wrapped it around the back of his neck and pulled his forehead to hers before closing her eyes and continuing. “I’m not ready for this part, and I apologize, because that is my hang up.”
“Hang up?” he questions.
“A simpleton’s way of saying reticence,” she answers with a small smile before continuing. “I hate words, they make things real, and messy, and although I mean everything I’m saying, that’s all I can handle right now. Please just…” she inhaled sharply as she tried to articulate her plea to let this be enough. 
“I understand,” he whispered, voice just as shaky as Emma’s. He placed his hand on her cheek, lovingly caressing the softness of her lower lip. “And I do trust you, love.” He pecked her lips once before continuing. “I know you don’t like words, that much was clear from the start,” he said with a knowing smile and another peck to her lips, “but I’d like to respond, if you’re amenable?”
Emma nodded her head, eyes still closed, still reeling from her own confessions. 
Hook kissed her gently again before prodding her to open her eyes. “I want you to see the truth of my words.” 
Emma inhaled deeply, then opened her eyes to look at him. She bit her lip, a nervous habit from her teen years, as she waited for his words.
“I want to be the one to bite this lip,” Hook growled, as he used his thumb to massage her lip from her teeth.
“Truth,” Emma giggled despite herself, nodding to let him know her lie detector was working.
Hook waggled his eyebrows and smirked at her, before resuming his more resolute demeanor. “I have never felt more naturally drawn to a woman than I do with you. Your fire and passion brought my dormant heart back to life, and for the first time in decades upon decades, I want to be a better version of myself, a version that has been long forgotten, the old Killian Jones who was an honorable man, with good intentions, and hope in his heart, not revenge.”
“You may have lost your way for a time, but you’re still an honorable man, Killian.”
“Gods above,” Hook murmured as he wrapped both arms around Emma and pulled her into nothing more than a loving embrace. He was in love with her, but now was not the time. Emma would undoubtedly run if any grand declarations were made. He hadn’t felt this vulnerable maybe ever and he longed to hear her call him by his given name again. 
“Emma? Hook?! What the hell?”
Emma froze in Hook’s embrace as the familiar, and annoying, and currently very judgmental voice sounded from the shore.
“Bollocks,” Hook cursed. “How shall we handle this, darling?”
“Can we just pretend he’s not there,” she deadpanned, face still buried in her neck, trying to keep reality at bay.
“Somehow I doubt that will work, but you are The Savior, you could give it a go.”
Emma sighed deeply before turning around in Hook’s arms, her back to his chest, so she could face their interloper. She placed her hands over his hand and wrist where they were wrapped around her waist. It was still dark as she faced Neal, so hopefully he wouldn’t see the eyeroll she’d just given him when she saw this silhouette of his hands on his hips like some outraged father. 
“Good morning, Neal,” she called to the shore cheerfully. “I must have lost track of time, I didn’t realize it was already your shift for bathing.”
“It’s not,” he muttered, “it’s still the middle- not the fucking point,” he interrupted himself. “It’s not your shift either, what the hell are you doing out here?”
As much as Emma wanted to tell Neal that she and Hook were doing exactly what he assumed they were doing, she abstained.  “I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” she snapped. 
“It is my business,” he snarled back, “we’re supposed to be here for Henry.”
“Don’t you dare!” Emma started, voice rising with rightfully earned indignation. “We came here to save Henry who is now safe and sound aboard the Jolly, but the reason we are here is because your deranged fiancée dragged him through a portal to sacrifice him to a madman.” 
“So you’re just going to throw away any chance of rekindling what we had, of being a family with Henry; so you can get laid by a dirty pirate.”
Emma pulled Hook’s arms around her tighter, keeping him anchored to her when she felt him start to pull away. She didn’t need these two getting into it again. 
“Oi! I bathe quite frequently, mate,” Hook quipped. “I was doing so when Swan and I happened upon each other.”
“Shut up, Hook,” Neal retorted.
“The one good thing that came from us, was Henry, but our relationship is long over. There is nothing to rekindle,” Emma sighed. She didn’t want to be mean, but she needed Neal to understand that she wanted nothing to do with him romantically. And she was not going to be lectured by the man who’d already blown up her life once. “Maybe one day, you and I can be friends for Henry’s sake, but that is the most we will ever be.”
“Ems, you don’t mean that. You’re under his thrall, it’s not real.”
Emma completely ignored the bait, choosing instead to stop this exchange in its tracks. “Hook and I are kind of busy,” she said with a lighthearted tone, while turning back around to face Hook. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she called over her shoulder, ”If there’s nothing else, we’ll see you later.”
“You mark my words Emma, when he abandons you after taking what he wants, you’re going to look back and regret this moment.”
“He’s stuck around through more shit than you ever did,” she called back, looking straight into Hook’s eyes.
Properly dismissed, Neal stormed off, muttering curses the whole way.
Emma dropped her head to Hook’s chest, exhaling with relief. “That felt good,” she said. 
“Well done, lass, though I’ve yet to see you fail, so I am not surprised Baelfire is no match for you. But perhaps we should make our way back as well,” Hook suggested. “I do believe he will be stirring the pot, come morning. You may want to be there to head off the storm.”
“I don’t care if he goes back to tell everyone, it’s not like it’s a lie, and at least this way, they will know we’re safe, and not missing. With any luck, we’ll be left alone for a bit,” she purred.
“Are you sure your parents will approve of you spending time with a dirty, one-handed pirate with a drinking problem?”
Emma’s head jerked up and she eyed him scrutinously. “First, you need to get Pan and Neal out of your head. Second, the only person who gets to decide who I spend my time with, or how I spend it, is me. And third, how do you know I don’t want you to be dirty,” she teased as she took command of his mouth with her own. 
Not giving him a chance to think further, Emma quickly kissed him again. She slid her tongue past his lips, rolling it against Hook’s, who was quick to reciprocate. She wrapped her lips around his tongue and sucked on it, eliciting one of the sexiest noises she’d ever heard. It was half growling and half begging for more. The buoyancy helped him to easily lift her and she instinctively surrounded his body with her legs.
Hook broke the kiss, in favor of exploration. His hot mouth trailed down Emma’s neck, licking here and nibbling there, never too rough, he didn’t wish to mark her, at least not where it would be visible. He palmed one of her breasts with his hand while running his thumb over her already pebbled peak. “Gods you are perfect,” he murmured before taking her other breast in his mouth and alternating between gently suckling and the graze of his teeth. 
Emma moaned softly in pleasure and torment as Hook worked her up, her clit throbbed and she longed to feel his hand or his mouth between her legs. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, she pulled his head back and gazed into his eyes, want and desire evident in her pupils which were blown wide and the way her tongue licked salaciously over her bottom lip before she bit down on it. 
She unwrapped her legs from around Hook’s torso, in favor of standing again. Sliding her hands down his back, she squeezed his ass cheeks before pressing her body against his. “I want you,” she whispered when she felt his hardness against her stomach. Emma reached between them to wrap her hand around his thick length.
“Swan,” Hook choked out, pulling her hand gently away from his overly eager cock. “I really don’t want this to be over before it starts.”
Emma smiled knowingly, the very thought of making him come early amping up her need. “Okay, you lead,” she agreed.
“Come with me.” Hook led her toward the far end of the pond, which was actually far larger than she’d realized. They rounded a large looming rock which cloaked the entrance to a small cave by the shore.
“You just know all the secret spots, don’t you?”
“I discovered many hiding spots over the years I spent on this cursed island,” Hook acknowledged. “I usually walk to this side of the water’s edge to deposit all my belongings before bathing. One can never be too safe with the keeping of his hook.” Extending his hand to Emma, he led her out of the water and into the shelter. 
They entered far enough to have a little privacy, but not so far as to be pitched in blackness. Hook pulled her over to a natural, rock-formed shelf. “Do you want a towel, milady? Perhaps my shirt?”
“I want you,” Emma growled, yanking on his hand and pulling him flush against her body and attacking his mouth again.
“Mmmm, as you wish,” he uttered between ardent kisses. 
Emma whined when he broke away from her again, “Hook!”
“Patience, darling,” he teased. Then he quickly grabbed his jacket and his towel, laying first the jacket down on the cave floor, followed by the towel. “So you don’t get sand in every crack and crevice,” he advised with a mock bow. 
Emma laughed at his naked bow before tackling him to the makeshift bed and straddling his hips. She wove the fingers of her left hand with his right, and wrapped her other hand around his wrist before pinning them above his head. 
She didn’t miss the way he jumped when she embraced his wrist, a fleeting look of helplessness crossing over his face. She kissed him softly, tenderly, wanting to calm his nerves about his perceived flaw. When she felt his body relax against hers, she started to trail kisses across the line of his jaw before veering back up to his ear. “Has anyone ever told you, you are beyond gorgeous?” she whispered before sucking his earlobe into her mouth.
“I tell myself this all the time, but it does sound much lovelier on your luscious lips.”
“These lips?” Emma asked, sitting up just slightly and running her tongue along her bottom lip.
“Aye, the very ones,” Hook struggled to get out of her hold, as he tried leaning up to taste her lips.
Emma kept a firm hold on him though, enjoying this little bit of control. She could feel his cock against her ass, hard for her, twitching each time she nibbled and sucked at his skin. She continued to trail kisses downward, along his neck, across his pecs. His hips thrusted upwards when she bit down on his nipple and flicked her tongue over the sensitive flesh. “Patience,” she mimicked his earlier command. 
Hook’s melodramatic exhale made her giggle as she scooted further down his body, gently rubbing her wet core along his cock. “Bloody hell!” Hook cursed while deftly flipping them over.
“Don’t you want to see what else these luscious lips can do?” she asked with a wicked grin. 
“Gods above, I do. But I swear you will unman me the moment you wrap your lips around me.”
Emma smirked at him, eyes alight with lust.
“You little minx, you like that idea don’t you?” 
“Maybe,” she admitted, a confession really, despite the ambiguity of the answer. She’d already resumed stroking him.
“Fuck,” Hook hissed at her touch. He was torn between his ego needing to pleasure her first and his baser instincts demanding he let her do her worst. 
Emma watched Hook, saw him struggle with the decision, his eyes squeezing shut when she ran her thumb over his tip. Without waiting for his answer, Emma rolled them back over and licked from his base to his tip before sucking the head of his cock into her mouth while continuing to pump him.
  Her clit ached as she reveled in the wrecked expression on his face, Hook was watching her every move, lip pinned between his teeth as he struggled to hold out. She knew he was close when his hand balled into a white knuckled fist on his stomach and she gently cupped his balls to massage them. The sound that left his mouth was positively feral as he came hard, warm and wet in her mouth.
She savored the moment, he hadn’t lasted long, and she’d been the one to do that to him. But that was all she had, a fleeting moment before she was being rolled to her back. 
Hook held her in his blunted arm and dove in for a kiss, not caring at all that his taste was still on her tongue. He smiled against her lips when he felt her spreading her legs beneath him. “Eager, are we?” he asked between kisses.
“Don’t tease,” she panted into his mouth.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Hook slowly caressed his hand down her neck, stopping to play with her breasts for just a moment before continuing down to where he knew she was desperate to be touched. He parted her lips with two fingers and slid his middle finger into the warm wetness waiting for him. “Gods, Swan, you’re soaked.” His cock was already coming back to life as he thought about sliding into her wet heat.
Emma’s eyes rolled shut as Hook massaged her clit with her slippery wetness and any response she could’ve made was forgotten. Her mouth parted with an involuntary whimper when he switched it up, suddenly, but oh so easily slipping two fingers deep inside her. She contracted around his fingers, then pushed down, welcoming the penetration. 
Hook fucked her with his fingers, circling his thumb over her clit, while watching her cheeks flush pink and her breasts bounce as she rode his hand. Longing to taste her, he repositioned himself between her legs, chuckling at her whine of protest when he had to stop for a moment. 
“Oh fuck,” she panted when he resumed loving her clit, this time with his tongue. He alternated between licks and flicks and sucking. Emma’s head spun dizzily, she’d experienced oral sex, but apparently she had never experienced mind blowing oral sex. She threaded both hands into his hair and tried desperately not to be too rough. “Oh my god, I’m gonna… I’m gonna…”
Hook chose that moment to thrust his fingers back inside her and Emma was gone, she came harder than she ever had, warm and tingly and wet as Hook continued to thrust his fingers into her and suck on her clit. She saw stars or dots or something behind her eyelids and there was a rush of waves nearby, or maybe that was just the adrenaline coursing in her ears. The little aftershocks pulsing and throbbing in her clit were heavenly and oh my god, that was fucking amazing, she thought.
“Get up here,” she purred, pulling on his hair.
“It seems someone was just as primed as I was,” Hook smirked as he slid back up the length of her body.
Emma silenced his smugness by wrapping her legs around waist and flipping him to his back. The rush of air that left Hook’s chest made her chuckle as she placed her hands on his cheeks and whispered to him between kisses. “Well, you’re very, very skilled,” she praised.
“You set the bar very high, love.”
Emma beamed at his compliment, her cheeks warming. She wasn’t sure what it was about this man that made her feel unlike she’d ever felt with another man. Like she was special and desired, it made her feel sexually free in a way she never had. Sitting astride Hook’s solid body, she caressed her hands along his chest, exploring his now dry chest hair, it was just as thick and glorious as she’d imagined. 
Emma could see the scars littering his flesh and she’d felt more when they’d been in the water and her hands had explored the expanse of his back. She wondered how rough his life had been to have this many physical scars. Her heart constricted a bit at that thought, especially already knowing he had just as many emotional scars as she did. She was both taken aback and a little frightened when she realized she wanted to know so much more about Hook. Maybe it was time to stop running from good things, Emma thought, her mind once again weighing the pros and cons of a relationship. Her train of thought was lewdly interrupted by a thrust of Hook’s hips, his hardness tapping at her back.
“Ready so soon, pirate,” she said in a husky tone while rising up on her knees and guiding him to her core. She ran the tip of his cock through her wet folds, both of them moaning with unadulterated lust. 
“Fuck yes,” he growled, thrusting his hips upward again. 
Emma cried out as his tip slipped inside her, a wave of arousal pooling and her belly tightening with want. She slid down his generous length, slowly savoring the drag against her slippery walls. She planted both hands on his chest and stilled her movements when he was fully seated, adjusting to his size. 
“You alright, love?” Hook asked, squeezing her hip gently while he circled his thumb over her hip bone.
She nodded her head and opened her eyes, which she didn’t realize she’d shut, to gaze down at the gorgeous man below her. “You feel good,” she praised, lifting her hips and sinking back down on to him. Emma set a languid pace, delighting in the sensation of fucking, the drag along her walls, angling herself so he hit that spot.
“That’s it, lass, take what you want,” Hook encouraged as Emma rode him; slowly at first, then building in pace as her cheeks flushed and a light sheen of sweat broke out across her forehead. He wished, not for the first time tonight, to be able to touch her with two hands. He encouraged her to touch her breasts as he changed course to play with her clit. 
Emma’s thighs began to burn as she worked to bring them both to that sweet edge of release, and the delicious friction between them built higher and higher. She palmed her breasts, tweaking her nipples and watched as Hook thumbed her clit in time with her thrusts. His hooded eyes roamed her body, and he bit down on his lip as he watched his cock disappear inside her heat over and over. She liked watching him watch her and the small grunts he gave each time she impaled herself and ground against him were hot. Emma found herself at the edge of bliss again and she whimpered as Hook began thrusting up into her.
Hook was having a hard time controlling his ardor, he wanted to flip them and plunge deeply into her. She was a vision, flushed pink, sweaty, breasts bouncing as she rode him to the edge. And then he heard her...
“Come with me, Killian,” she panted.
...and he was undone. The plea in her tone as she said his name and the massage of her walls against his cock as she began to come, ended him. He came hard and hot with a cry of her name, filling her with his seed until it began to spill as she continued to ride him through both of their releases. 
As euphoria traveled throughout her body, Emma slumped into Hook’s body. She’d never felt so gratified as her entire being thrummed with bliss. Hook turned them to their sides and kissed her fervently. Wrapping both her arms around him, Emma gave as good as she got, their tongues and lips engaging lovingly. She lost track of all time as they lay together, parting only when they needed breath. “That was-”
Hook covered her mouth much as she had covered his earlier. “Don’t,” he whispered with a pleading look in his eyes.
Emma wrapped her fingers around his palm and removed his hand, giggling quietly. “I didn’t mean it the first time, and I damn sure wouldn’t mean it this time,” she assured him, noting how his shoulders sagged in relief. “I was going to say that was amazing… brilliant,” she murmured into his ear. 
Hook chuckled, remembering the time he’d said those words to her. “Aye, Swan, we still make quite the team.”
Emma could only smile at the seamless harmony that flowed between them. And she kissed him once more before snuggling into him. 
As a sated exhaustion made itself known in her body, Emma rejoiced that it was still dark outside of the cave. A vigorous yawn and stretch wracked her body, and Killian chuckled lightly again.
“Did I wear you out?” 
Emma laughed as the same yawn tore through Hook, no sooner had he spoken his teasing words. “I think we wore each other out,” she snickered. 
“Aye lass, I believe you’re right. How about we get washed up and head back to the Jolly? I’ll give you the captain’s quarters, even though you lost.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “Brag much?”
“What is the fun in winning a wager if I cannot gloat?”
“Such a pirate,” she muttered before rolling him to his back again. “How about we share the captain’s quarters?”
“Deal,” Hook accepted without hesitation. 
A half hour later, they were standing in the cave, bathed, and mostly dressed, Hook had gone to get Emma’s clothes for her from the opposite shoreline. 
“Shall we?” Hook asked, offering Emma his hand. He frowned when she made no attempt to move.
“I’d rather…” she started, a blush coloring her cheeks.
“Ah, I understand,” Hook said, quickly understanding. “Shall we head back in separate directions? Or perhaps, I’ll just stay here for a bit and come back later in the morning.”
Emma rolled her eyes again, this time with a bit of frustration, as she placed her hands on her hips. “That is not what I was going to say.”
Hook raised an eyebrow in question, waiting for her to explain.
“Has nothing I’ve said tonight gotten through to you? Or did that mind blowing sex make you forget?” She took his heavier than expected leather duster from where he had it draped over his arm and turned around to lay it out on the cave floor. 
Turning to face Hook again, she cupped his face in both hands. “Let’s recap, I like how you make me feel, I’m not worried about everyone finding out, best oral ever, sensational sex, no running away. I fancy you, Killian.” Emma finished her statement with a gentle kiss.
The gobsmacked look on Hook’s face made her laugh out loud. “I was going to say I’d rather spend the rest of the night here with you. We already know everyone else will know we’re safe. Even if Neal doesn’t outright blab; if Mary Margaret and David start to worry, he won’t hesitate to spill what he knows.” 
“You fancy me, love?”
Despite heavily stroking his ego by admitting he was the best she’d ever been with, it figured the part he’d pick up on was the closest she’d get to any kind of outright confession of feelings. Emma smacked her hand to her forehead. “Yes, Killian, I fancy you. Don’t get all cocky about it.”
“On my honor, I’ll not get cocky,” he promised before leaning in to kiss her, “as I quite fancy you as well. But you already know that.”  
Laying down on his jacket, the two snuggled together, Emma in panties and Hook’s shirt and Hook in his birthday suit.
“You needed to get naked again to go to sleep?” Emma asked with a little sarcasm in her tone.
“I’ll have you know that style and comfort do not go hand in hand, Swan. Those leathers, though appealing to the eye, do not make for great sleep clothes. Besides, all pirate’s know the only way to sleep when there’s a lovely lass in his bed, is in the nude. You know… easy access.”
“Why am I not surprised by that, Killian?”
“I’ll never tire of hearing you call me that,” he answered. 
“Killian,” she whispered.
“Aye, love?”
“Nothing, I just wanted you to hear me say it again.”
A boyish smile broke out over Killian’s face as he pulled her in tighter to his side. “Good night, Swan.”
“Goodnight, Killian.”
The End
Tagging some lovely shipmates - please let me know if you don’t want to be tagged - or if you’re reading and want me to tag you. 
@laschatzi @qualitycoffeethings @hookedonapirate @wordsmith-storyweaver @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @wyntereyez @hooklineandswan @teamhook @let-it-raines @whimsicallyenchantedrose @spartanguard  @tiganasummertree@apromisednightcap  @xemmaloveskillianx @elizabeethan @cocohook38 @optomisticgirl @darkcolinodonorgasm @jennjenn615 @timeless-love-story @girl-in-a-tiny-box @thesschesthair @galadriel26 @ultraluckycatnd @lifeinahole27 @therooksshiningknight @kday426 @djlbg @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @lfh1226-linda @delightfully-difficult-pirate @thejollyswan @csalltheway @xarandomdreamx @vvbooklady1256 @withheartfulloflove @resident-of-storybrooke @mcakers @gingerchangeling @searchingwardrobes​
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walviemort · 3 years
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hidden blessing (7/?)
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Summary: Killian thought the only thing he was left with after Milah’s death was a broken heart and a thirst for vengeance. It’s not until he gets to Storybrooke, after so many years spent in stasis, that he discovers something else: he’s carrying her child. How does this new, tiny blessing change his path? (Canon-divergent from 2x12.)
rated T | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | AO3 | 3.4k
a/n: Sorry for the long gap between chapters! Life and all that. But hopefully there will be less gap between this and the next ones, and hope it was worth the wait!
To Killian’s surprise, part of Emma’s plan of preparation was rest; she was pointedly looking at him when she made the suggestion, and honestly, he’d been too relieved at the idea to say anything against it. Even more shockingly, Regina agreed, and for the first time since they’d set foot in this accursed land, Killian finally felt rested; even the nausea had abated, though he was sure it wouldn’t last long.
What did concern him, however, was the sound of David struggling once they finally set off toward Pan’s camp. Snow teased him, but Killian was worried that his brush with the Lost One’s arrow had been far too close.
And then, of course, Pan moved the camp—in the opposite direction that they’d been moving. As usual, Regina was quick to blame him and call for the use of magic. Which was a terrible idea, and he told her so, but did give him another.
“How are we going to find it?” she sniped.
“By using someone he trusts,” he replied, patience waning.
“Who?” David challenged. “Because I guess he certainly doesn't trust you.”
He’d never gain ground with David, would he? “A fairy who lived here when I was about,” he explained, ignoring the jab. “She might still be on the island. She'd be an inside source, knows all about the camp, can get us in. She might even have some pixie dust left. Perhaps we could fly in.”
In the continuation of their hot-and-cold relationship, David supported the idea—and Emma apparently discovered another person she knew to be fictional was real. If he ended up raising this child in Storybrooke, he’d have to be sure to keep such tales far away from them.
They redirected, but David was flagging. And Killian hated that he knew why.
It took some prodding, but David eventually was convinced to show Killian his injury, lifting his shirt just enough to expose his lower abdomen. The more hormonal part of Killian was slightly jealous of the man’s not only flat, but incredibly well toned stomach, briefly mourning the loss of his own, but it gave way to dread: there was a long, shallow slice along David’s side, and black veins were already spreading from the cut.
And yet, David still tried to argue that “The arrow only nicked me.”
But Killian had seen enough brushes with the vile poison to know what lay ahead. The sight turned his stomach, dredging up painful memories. But the stubborn prince wouldn’t heed his advice to tell his family.
“Pixie dust,” David insisted was the answer. “You believe in this Tinker Bell's power? In her pixie dust?”
“Indeed, I do.” Tink had never given him reason not to. (Though, to be fair, most of their interactions were a bit more physical than verbal, and with the way the slightest thing had him aroused right now, he didn’t dare wander down that path of memory.)
“Then let's get her and that dust.”
It was hard to argue with that.
Her treehouse was still in the same spot; given his familiarity, he headed up first, only to find it empty. (Although still far too familiar; memories of one particular night spent in that hammock definitely stirred some things he hadn’t wanted stirred. Bloody hormones.)
Thankfully his pants were still loose enough to hide anything he didn’t want shown as the rest of the crew joined him in the treehouse, although their search came up empty.
Well, not entirely—while Emma and Snow were reminiscing on the hovel’s resemblance to some places they’d lived, David uncovered a handkerchief. Of Regina’s.
He should have known Tink would be steps ahead of them; she usually was.
Thankfully, she hadn’t caused Regina any harm—and Emma managed to convince her to join them. He wasn’t really surprised—Emma clearly had that way with lost souls such as themselves—though he had assumed his own rapport with the fairy would be required. 
(He was pleased, however, that Tink was not averse to his flirtations, even if she was no longer the main object of them.)
Their shared history meant she could read him too well, though. On the trek back to their campsite, she sidled up to him. “So who knocked you up?” she bluntly whispered.
How the hell could she tell? Not that it really mattered, he supposed. “First time you’ve seen me in 30 years and that’s your first question?”
“Well, you weren’t the last time I saw you. Oh god—it wasn’t me, was it?”
He chuckled. “No, lass, it was not.” He had a keen memory for these things and he and Tink, despite the numerous positions they explored, never managed the specific one required for conception. “And actually, I was when you last saw me; I just didn’t know it yet.”
The moment of realization was visible on her face. “Oh my goodness. Then let me say congratulations.”
“Thanks, love.”
She then punched him in the shoulder. “You better be damn careful.”
“Bloody hell; that doesn’t exactly help.”
She helped them gather up some coconuts to share before settling in for the night (or whatever part of day it was; his circadian rhythm was definitely off, and his random bouts of fatigue didn’t help). After they’d passed them around, he sat down and was starting to notch a hole in one with his hook when Emma took a seat next to him.
“Hey, are you doing okay?” she asked quietly. “Stomach feeling alright and everything?”
He was speechless for a moment; despite her previous admission, he was surprised she cared. But her green eyes were staring him down, demanding an answer. “Aye; nothing too bad today; thank you for asking.” He broke through to the hollow core of the coconut and handed it to Emma. She took a sip and smiled.
“Damn, that’s good. I didn’t just take yours, did I?” He replied by grabbing another one and holding it aloft. “Good. You need to stay hydrated.”
“I’m aware, doctor.”
She snorted at that and took another sip, but then her smile drifted away as she swallowed. “So, uh, you seemed to know Tink pretty well.”
“Aye, you could say that; we go back quite far.”
“Were you two—is she—?” Emma stammered, then nodded toward his midsection. He had to bite back a laugh.
“Yes and no,” he answered. “We did know each other intimately, but not that intimately.”
She adorably scrunched her face in confusion, then shrugged. “Okay, I was just curious. You still need to explain all that to me, but not tonight.”
“No, not tonight; you better rest up.”
“You too, okay?”
“Aye, captain.”
She rolled her eyes, but stood and headed back toward where her parents sat. The longer he spent in her presence, the more he felt it when she left. This was definitely not the time or place to be warring with those feelings, but he couldn’t seem to help it. He was mature enough to set them aside and focus on the bigger picture—saving Henry and escaping this cursed realm—but bloody hell was it difficult.
The near-constant flutters within began their tiny dance again; he hoped the way his hand rested on his belly was perceived as casual. Feeling that was yet another reminder of his goals here: to make it out alive for the sake of the babe, and let no harm come to them. 
He was allowed to have some fun along the way, though—right?
-------------------------------------------
Of course, those moments were few and far between. The next day brought Tink’s uncomfortable reminder that they’d yet to figure out a way out of Neverland, and led them chasing ghosts across the island as he brought them to Bae’s old hideaway.
He had never let the lad know that he was aware of its location. Or that he’d been keeping an eye on him ever since he left the Roger. That was still his greatest regret, and he hoped no one noticed the tears brimming at his eyes as he moved to uncover the entrance to Bae’s cave.
Deflection usually helped; he did find a brief moment to engage Emma, but David stepped in before she could reply. It was hard to tell if it was fatherly protection or pure stubbornness against his own fate that was the motivation. Of course, David didn’t want to hear another lecture about his situation as they opened the cave, but he got one anyway; perhaps this pregnancy was elevating Killian’s already intense protective instincts, but the man’s insistence on hiding his condition was infuriating and heartbreaking.
Honestly, the only thing that kept him back from really tearing into David was Emma calling out for him from the cave. His heart gave a leap at that, one that was clearly distinguishable from the rolling of his stomach that typically accompanied nausea, and he headed in with one last glance at David. He could deal with him later, but he’d not leave a lady waiting.
“What is this place? What are we doing here?” she demanded impatiently, trying to make out anything in the dark of the cave. Ever one for the dramatic reveal, Killian headed straight to a waiting torch on the back wall and quickly made to light it with his flint against his hook. At least, he had hoped it would be quickly, but the ever present humidity made that difficult; and then David was again pushing him aside with some firestarter from his realm. Bloody hell, was that man stubborn. But it had the desired effect, and Emma quickly realized where they were. “Neal,” she said on a breath, studying the chalk drawings that covered nearly every surface. “This is where he lived.” 
“Aye,” he confirmed. “Baelfire spent some time in Neverland as a boy. This was his home.” His eyes were immediately drawn to a reproduction of the port and starboard coordinates that were still etched into the Jolly Roger’s helm, sending a wave of guilt and sadness through him.
The group wasted no time in beginning to search for a clue as to how Bae had left; clearly, it had been in a rush. And if Killian used it as an excuse to hover around Emma...well, that was his business. 
“Anything important?” he asked as she inspected the wall.
“I can't tell yet. I didn't know he liked drawing.” 
“He got it from his mother,” Killian found himself blurting out; it was also easy to see Milah’s influence in Bae’s style, and his hand immediately fluttered to his belly on instinct. Emma gave him a sympathetic half smile, but then turned her attention back to the task at hand—and in the process, discovered the way off...partly. 
It was a rather ingenious device, he had to admit: a star map hidden in a coconut. Practical and creative; he couldn’t help the rush of pride he felt when he explained it to the group.
“Then you can read it,” Regina stated, uncharacteristically hopeful. Which made the next part all the harder. 
“Sadly, no.” Because of course, Bae had made sure to encode the coordinates in a manner that only he could read.
“Which means the only person who can read it is dead,” Emma summarized, clearly upset. She tossed the map aside and hurried out of the cave in a fluster. Her parents tried to follow, but didn’t get far before she told them she needed space.
Kililan only waited a minute before following.
She was only a few yards outside the cave entrance, forearm pressed against a tree as she stared at the ground and, most likely, was trying not to express any undesired emotion.
“You alright, love?” he said quietly, not wanting to startle her. 
She huffed. “No, not really. Just one step forward and three back, every fucking day.”
She continued to rant without any input from him—about the jungle, about Pan, about missing Henry, and her mixed feelings toward Bae. And it became abundantly clear to Killian that she needed a respite (he certainly could use one, too).
He knew just the place, too. “Swan, can I show you something?”
“Is it another way off the island?”
“Afraid not, but I think it’s what you need right now.”
She sighed, mildly defeated (which was still as much as he’d ever seen from her), but nodded.
It was a short walk to their destination—still within earshot of the Charmings if needed—but far enough to give them both some needed room to breathe. He brushed back a swag of foliage (after checking for dreamshade) and gestured for Emma to step through. 
Years ago, he’d discovered the small spring here; one of the few parts of the island not bent on murdering its inhabitants. The water was fresh and cool, and various fruits and edible plants grew around the edge. Back then, he’d made a point to keep access to it open for Bae; he was relieved to see nothing had changed, save for the few vines grown over the entrance. 
“It’s beautiful,” Emma sighed—a heavy thing of both awe and relief. 
“Aye. Only a few places like it on the island.”
“Let me guess: the water is acid or something?”
He chuckled. “Blessedly, no. It’s one of the safest places here, actually. Bae would come here often—for water, and to bathe.”
She sighed. “Yeah, one of those sounds great right about now.”
“Go right ahead,” he said, gesturing to the spring. “I’ll keep a lookout for you.”
She arched an eyebrow and smirked. “How do I know this isn’t just a ploy to get me out of my clothes? Don’t forget: I know what pregnancy hormones are like.”
She wasn’t wrong, and he couldn’t help the rush of thrill when she flirted with him like that, sarcastic as it was—or the slight southern rush of blood. “Well, I had planned to do the same, if you’d offer me the same courtesy once you’re done.”
“Okay. But turn around,” she directed. He couldn’t say no to that.
He also wasn’t about to divulge the places his imagination wandered as he heard the gentle splashes of water as she cleaned herself.
She didn’t take long—he could tell she was used to being efficient when it came to hygiene, like he was—and was fully dressed by the time he turned around, though her wet hair was still dripping. And he was more relieved than he planned on that she was already facing away when it came time to remove his tunic; he was by no means ashamed of the curve of his belly, but showing off something that was apparently unnatural to the woman he fancied was suddenly a mortifying endeavor.
He was quick, too, in washing up, and in getting redressed—at least his tunic; he let his vest hang unbuttoned for a bit. It had also been a minor bit of relief to undo it, and he’d need a moment to subtly loosen the laces in order to make it both more comfortable and better disguise his slight bump.
He’d given Emma the all clear to turn around before he did that, though, lest she get suspicious. Although—she seemed mildly disappointed when she did.
“What’s wrong, love?”
“Nothing, just...you didn’t have to hide your bump, if that’s what you were doing,” she said, avoiding his gaze.
“Bummed you couldn’t see me shirtless?” he quipped.
That drew a wry, side-eyed grin from her, before she sat down on a stone near the edge of the spring and took a long sip from her freshly filled jug. There was enough space on it next to her for another person to join, but he didn’t want to impose...at least, not until she called out, “Are you gonna join me or not?”
He picked up his vest and coat from where he’d left them in the sand of the small beach and made his way over, then settled next to her. She passed over the canteen; the water was cool and refreshing—and he nearly dropped it when the babe gave a strong kick. “I guess this one likes it too,” he said after he passed it back, and let his hand rest over his belly. It wasn’t often he felt strong movements like that, but each one was reassuring—that his babe was safe from all the dangers of this murderous island.
“Have they been doing that a lot?” Emma asked.
“Here and there; that’s one of the stronger ones I’ve felt.”
“I remember when Henry first did that,” she started. “I dropped my lunch tray, I was so startled. And they wouldn’t give me any more food. But it was...kind of incredible.”
He only understood half those words, but understood the sentiment. “I was still locked up in Tamara’s apartment when I felt the first one.”
“What a coincidence; I was in prison.”
He was growing to hate the number of parallels in their lives.
“Anyways—how’s everything else? Any nausea, cravings, anything?”
It was touching that she was so concerned, but he didn’t dare complain about anything other than the intermittent nausea. As she’d said, she knew about the hormones. “Although, my boots have been annoying tight,” he did add, “and I need to loosen my vest a bit.”
Her eyes had drifted to his midsection, but quickly glanced up. He couldn’t fault her for being curious, so he tugged the edge of his tunic up to reveal his stomach.
“Aww, that’s a cute bump,” she gushed; it was an odd thing to say, he thought, but she clearly meant it as a compliment. “You said sixteen weeks, right?”
“Aye,” he answered, impressed she remembered.
“Yeah, I think that’s where I was with Henry around then. I carried it all in front, apparently.” She quickly grew quiet, and he could tell that wasn’t the sort of thing she shared with too many people. But then her expression grew quizzical. “Can I ask...how, or where, exactly are you carrying?”
“I clearly have a womb,” he said, trying to make light of what was clearly going to be an awkward anatomical conversation.
“Well, yeah, but…you’re a guy. Also clearly,” she responded, eyes glancing at his groin.
“Yes; I have both, then, if that’s what you’re asking, but my womb is...I suppose less functional than yours.”
“So...what, you don’t get periods or something? How does this all work?”
He chuckled at her bluntness and explained—how his womb was something of a secondary characteristic, menstruation only occurred once a year or so, and conception was also only possible at a specific time and when the female partner was on top (a fact that made her blush). “Milah and I...our last joining before she died, it would have been the right circumstances, but given how slim the chances of conception were, it wasn’t something we were concerned with.”
“It only takes once,” she said knowingly.
“That it does,” he agreed.
They settled into an easy silence, and the baby started kicking again, even more once he put his palm over it.
“Do you...want to feel it?” he asked; no one but the doctor had thus far, but he knew women and their partners and friends usually shared those moments. They counted as friends, right?
He was worried she might think he was crossing a line, but she grinned. “Yeah!”
Gently, he took her hand and placed it over the spot just to the side of his navel where the babe was pressing. Hopefully, she didn’t notice his quick intake of breath at the feel of her warm palm on his skin.
If she did, it was quickly forgotten when the little one was kicking at her hand; her eyes lit up. “Hey there, kid,” she said softly. “Look at you, growing big and strong.”
She looked up at him, smiling—and very close to him, a fact she too seemed to suddenly realize, and she quickly moved away. 
They lingered at the pond a while longer, enjoying the respite from the craziness of their journey. 
But Killian couldn’t stop his heart from racing, and he wasn’t sure if it was from Emma’s proximity, or her interest in his babe, or both.
(Emma, she was surprised to find, was facing a similar predicament. She couldn’t linger on it, she knew, but maybe when they were done, she could try to figure out what that meant.)
But for one minute, they were just two friends enjoying a quiet moment.
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thanks for reading! tagging  @cocohook38​​​​​​ @wyntereyez​​​​​​ @jennjenn615​​​​​​ @superadam54​​​​​​ @ashley-knightingale​​​​​​ @justsomewhump​​​ @teamhook​ (let me know if you want a tag!)
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amirajones · 3 years
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The Pirate and the runaway Princess pt. 8
Pairing: Amira White x Captain Hook/Killian Jones
28 years in storybrooke maine was the worst that could of happened to all of us, me included. For one I was in the beginning stages of being pregnant and because of this curse nothing progressed! For the first 14 years my life in storybrooke consisted of a job working in Granny's diner. Regina had come in there frequently but I never worked the time she was in there until one day she noticed me working there and our paths crossed. Clearly she had it out for me cause she made me quit working for Granny and work for her as her assistant. In this town you didn't say no to the mayor no matter what. The first four years were a living nightmare doing all her errands and she didn't really care. Needless to say I was there when she had Henry growing up, I'd have to walk him to the school bus when she was pulled in for meetings or pick him up from school. Yes, my sister and I crossed paths but we didn't remember we were sisters after all her name was Mary Margaret Blanchard and I was Selena Marriott. Let's just say there isn't anything to really tell but the moment the curse was broken after my niece had been there awhile, My memories came back in a rush.
"Killian, Snow" Amira said softly as I dropped the papers
Regina wasn't there at least not at first so I set the papers down and I ran out going to find the crew. You probably thought I was going to find my sister first, right? Nope, I went to find the crew first knowing I needed to get my story straight on how I was going to tell my sister she was going to be an aunt. Needless to say i came across Smee first and even though I didn't have my pirate attire I had to keep my act on it.
"Smee!" Amira said
Smee looked at me almost as if in shock and went over "Selena, we wondered what happened to you and the captain." Smee said to me
"I saw him before the curse, he tried to break me out but my step mother interfere offering him a deal. Have you found him?" Amira asked
"I'm sorry Selena, when we were brought to this land he wasn't with us." Smee said
Those words went through my head several times, he wasn't with us here? All I could wonder is where was he and if he was alive. He told me he was a survivor so in my heart I felt he was alive. I didn't have to even tell Smee as he ran off and rounded up the men who surrounded me seeing I was there but our Captain was not.
"Selena, what should we do? Without the Captain we don't know." One of them said
"Your in charge Selena, it's your call." Smee said
'My call? I'm not the first mate Smee was.' Amira thought as she looked at her crew members "Wait why me? Smee your the captain's first mate." Amira asked
"Sorry Selena, but your the captain's girl now. You spent more time with him then any of us." The men said
'Spent more time with him? Oh yeah, we spent time but it wasn't always talking that's how I ended up the way I am now. Pregnant and unsure if I'll ever get to tell him.' Amira thought but she smiled at them "Everyone just stay local and for now keep updates." Amira said
I left them later to find my sister, to face what I knew would be probably disappointment. It was a little time before I found her and her husband hugging each other. Distracted as they were kissing I snuck up on them and laughed a bit. Snow was startled by what I did but I couldn't help it.
"Ami?" Snow asked
"Hi" Amira said
Snow embraced me and I hugged her back knowing I couldn't be more happy to see my only sister. We were the last living family members we had for the longest time and now she was married, her daughter was close in age with us. Talk about feeling old when you're still young and well there's Henry who's my Great Nephew.
"I was going to come look for you but I didn't know where you were." Snow said to me and I laughed a bit rubbing the back of my head.
"Yeah I know but I had to find some of my crew mates." Amira said
It was no lie I was a pirate, even now without my pirate gear I just needed to find the Jolly Roger or some portal to go home to get my outfit back. Snow could tell something was up, needless to say we always could figure out the other had something to hide and I had something to hide big time.
"What's wrong?" Snow asked
"Nothing's wrong entirely just well How do I say this?" Amira said and I thought about my next words to my sister. I chose the only words I could figure was logical "Your going to be an aunt."
I waited but Snow hugged me which was more than I expected but it was true. "I'm so happy for you, have you told him yet? Wait where is your captain?" Snow asked me
I sighed and shook my head "No I haven't told him yet, I never had the courage too. He's not here snow. I don't know if he's alive or dead cause of Regina." Amira said
I wished that was the least of my worries finding him, knowing where he was but it was only the beginning. A mist formed and everyone freaked out, true our powers were gone in this land with no magic. Yet there was a purple mist coming our way and well David pulled my sister to him and I hugged my sister knowing I didn't know what was going to happen as it went in the town. I felt my powers return, yes I'd practiced light magic for going up against my step mother.
Everybody gathered together and for the first time I got to meet my niece who I'd wanted to meet for a long time. You could imagine my surprise when she had blonde hair when both her parents did not and she was powerful I could tell that.
"Emma, right?" Amira asked
"Yeah and you're Selena." Emma said
"Well actually I'm your Aunt. Snow's my sister." Amira said
Emma was taking in all this and I couldn't blame her yet now that magic was returned. I knew there was a way to find Killian. I was going to find him, like he found me in the castle Regina locked me up in but I knew in my heart somehow we'd always find each other. I spent most of my time with my sister and some of it with my crew mates keeping the peace of what was going on.
Keeping my pregnancy secret from them was no problem, I'd come accustomed to lying to protect myself in any case necessary so they never saw anything past what I said. Still when a Wraith was in town I knew that was not going to be good.
"Hide! Stay away from the Wraith!" Amira said
The men followed my directions, one wanted to stay with me but I insisted he stick to the plan. We were lost without Killian and I was biding my time to find him. I didn't think much was going on in town after all it's only been two days of peace with Regina locked away.
The wraith was flying all over town, I didn't know what to do but just stayed in the shadow and follow it to see what was going on. Needless to say it was first led to the jail where Regina was locked away. Now I had two choices here let it take her and we'd be free or save her from what was going on. My answer was simple, I needed the answers about Killian so I helped in preventing it from getting her this time.
"What are you doing here?" Regina asked me
I used the key to unlock her cell and grabbed her by the shirt collar "Where Is My Pirate?" Amira said to her
Regina looked at me for a moment before she laughed knowing who I was talking about. "He's alive Amira. He did as asked but clearly he didn't get to you in time dear." Regina said
"So where is he?! He's not in town!" Amira sid
When I said that she wondered what that meant, still she didn't give me an answer so I had to find him on my own. We all had a plan now on how to catch the wraith and let's just say I planned to jump in with it. One way or the other I was going back to our home land and finding him, I had to do this for me and for my unborn child. So when the plan was started I didn't get the chance to act in time because the wraith grabbed hold of my niece Emma.
"Shit." Amira said
When Snow jumped in needless to say I jumped in after her but it wasn't entirely to help my sister. Partly I was being selfish for once in my life going for the thing I wanted most but if there was a way to get back what I lost I'd do anything. When we landed let's just say it wasn't an easy landing nor was it probably the best choice to jump in knowing you were only going to get the love of your life. I don't know exactly where we landed as I was unconscious with Emma and Snow but my magic changed my outfit without me knowing.
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firelxdykatara · 4 years
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hello!! i just wanted to ask- i wanna do an ouat rewatch bc CAPTAIN SWANN but its pretty long and i honestly dont care for the other characters/how badly the overall writing was handled.. which are your favourite captain swan eps? anything them centered and i think ill just skip around to rewatch their romance as they did invent romance 😭😭 ty in advance <3
they absolutely did invent romance, you are right about that and i love them so much
UHMMMM as far as my favorite CS eps, here’s a roadmap of what I personally consider key eps in their journey (some of this is from memory but I haven’t done a full rewatch in a while so i’m going through the episode list as a refresher)
2x06: Tallahassee--this is a must-watch ep for any CS fan, and I really think this is the episode that sparked the fire that CS would become as a fandom. It has everything--flirtatious banter, all kinds of tension, deliberate parallels drawn between Emma and Killian’s pasts, as well as their first meeting being intercut with her relationship with Neal (which serves, especially in hindsight, to highlight just how sketchy that relationship was, and why she couldn’t bring herself to trust Killian--because the last time she felt this way about anyone, it ended horribly)
2x08 and 2x09: Into the Deep and Queen of Hearts--these episodes cover the race to the portal between Emma&co and Hook/Cora and while they don’t do a ton for CS as a relationship since they’re still enemies at this point, it lays great foundation for their future relationship development. Plus, sexy swordfight, Hook going out of his way to save Aurora’s heart--he may be a pirate, but he has standards ok--and Emma realizing Cora can’t remove her heart without her permission? Poetic Cinema
2x11: The Outsider--more of a Killian-centric episode, it shows a lot of Killian at his worst but it’s necessary for his overall character arc and I genuinely love looking back and seeing just how far he managed to come, to the point of eventually even letting go of his (very understandable) grudge against Rumplestiltskin.
2x12: In the Name of the Brother--am I including this purely for Emma&Hook banter in the hospital, and Killian saying ‘hey beautiful’ when he’s lying on the road because he just got hit by a fucking car? You bet I am. Also, go to youtube and look up ‘ouat season two deleted scene jello’, because it’s beautiful and there was a tremendous outcry in the fandom when we realized it had been cut from the episode lmao (It’s also the episode that made me start shipping Frankenwolf, which I’m still sad never went anywhere, but they had a lot of potential and great chemistry.)
2x22: And Straight On Till Morning--A few of the episodes in between have some fun minor interactions and flashbacks (and I always approve of episodes where Killian gets one up on Rumple, so 2x15 is fun for me if i ignore all the Neal bits) but the finale is where we finally get a glimpse of who Killian could be beyond his need for revenge. He didn’t have to come back, he didn’t have to bring back the bean and help the town--but he did.
Season 3a: there’s a lot of really good stuff here for Hook and Emma that is interwoven between the A plots of other episodes. I think, as far as half-season arcs go, it’s one of the best (and everything after 4a bombed hard, but I digress) But there are a few episodes that stand out if you don’t want to watch the whole season. (I recommend starting with the premier though, it was a really solid season starter overall.)
3x05: Good Form--this is the culmination of David’s poisoned-by-dreamshade arc, and is also Peak Captain Charming Bromance. Hook not only keeping David’s secret, but doing everything he can to help save him??? Poetic cinema. It also provides some crucial Killian backstory, showing how he lost his brother to the very same dreamshade. Plus, the character development--Pan offers Killian a chance to escape the island with Emma if he kills David, and instead, he saves him, refusing the deal and damn the consequences. Also also? The first CS kiss which drove the fandom WILD.
3X06: Ariel--not only to I love OUaT’s take on Ariel, but this episode has the infamous Echo Cave scene, which involves a lot of feelsy confessions and Killian being the one to tell everyone that Neal is alive and helping Emma save him despite his own growing feelings for her.....IT’S JUST A LOT AND I LOVE IT.
3x07: Dark Hallow--oh man, I’d forgotten about this episode, but it has Killian and Neal fighting over Emma, which may sound eye-roll worthy, but Emma is allowed to tear them a new one about it and it’s one of the few times she’s allowed to actually???? put her own feelings first so I have to include it here on spec
3x11 and 3x12: Going Home and New York City Serenade--these mark the end of 3a and start of 3b respectively, and it has some amazing shit like Killian vowing never to forget Emma and Emma smiling as she replies, “Good.” And then she and Henry are in New York with their memories completely altered, but Killian shows up because Storybrooke is back and in jeopardy, and he helps Emma get back to her family and her home and, much later, Emma finds out he sold the Jolly Roger to be able to do it and it’s just. It’s beautiful ok.
3x17: The Jolly Roger--there’s honestly not a whole lot in the back half of season 3 (until the CS movie) but of course anything named for Hook is a must-watch, and this is where we get the iconic line I swear on Emma Swan--which is Killian saying he’s in love with her before he even realizes it. We also find out just what he did to Ariel, and his attempts to make amends are what lead to Zelena being able to curse him, so it’s great from a character perspective as well.
The next four episodes round out the end of the season, and there’s a lot of great stuff in them--Hook refusing to get Emma to kiss him, but Emma feeling like she can’t trust him because he didn’t tell her about the curse to begin with, and then kissing him anyway to save his life regardless of the consequences.... but the only ones that are absolutely necessary are the final two episodes.
They are colloquially termed ‘The Captain Swan Movie’ for a reason, after all.
Killian and Emma essentially have an entire Time Travel adventure all to themselves, where they accidentally ruin her parents first meeting and have to fix it so that she’ll even be born, Emma finally getting into the storybook, the pair of them dancing at a ball, Killian rushing to save Emma only for her to get out of the cell herself, because “The only one who saves me is me.” Killian saying “I would go to the ends of the world for her... or time.” Finally fixing the timeline and making it back to Storybrooke and Killian feeling like he doesn’t deserve a place at the table so he doesn’t go inside, but Emma comes out to him anyway and finds out he gave up the Jolly Roger for her, the true start to their relationship...... IM CRYING JUST THINKING ABOUT IT I’M SORRY.
I personally really enjoyed 4a, the Frozen arc was one of the last good half-season arcs of the show, but a lot of people disliked it so it’s really up to interpretation. I don’t have as many Intense Opinions on this season (except hating almost everything about 4b and the queens of darkness arc), but I will say the episodes with good Killian/CS moments are 4x02 (Emma nearly freezes to death, Killian is desperate to save her, Captain Charming teamwork, my heart hurts), 4x04 (Emma asks Killian out on a real date, he tries to get his real hand back from Gold, things go massively awry and he winds up back under Gold’s thumb), 4x08 (Killian tries to save Emma from Gold’s plans), 4x11 (the 4a finale is just great in general), and then..... it cannot be overstated how much I hate season 4b, but 4x15 is the Killian-centric ep where his past with Ursula is revealed and he makes amends to her in order to get her to leave the QoD alliance and it’s great character stuff for him, and then there’s the season 4 finale.
Both parts are worth watching, if only because Deckhand Coward Hook still being a braver, more heroic man than ‘Hero Rumplestiltskin’ warms the very cockles of my heart, and of course the second part of the finale has him helping Henry to save Emma and it’s beautiful and also Emma watches him die for her and it is angsty as FUCK but gods I love it. Here’s where it gets tricky, though--my recommendation is, turn the episode off right after Emma finds Killian back in the present day of Storybrooke and they reunite.
Just turn off the episode there and skip right ahead to the s6 musical episode (Emma and Killian’s wedding ep) and pretend they got married and none of seasons 5 or 6 ever happened. >.> (Although I will say certain parts of the Underworld arc were incredibly feelsy despite how much I overall hated the season: 5x11 (the 5a finale, Killian as the dark one STILL being a better man than rumple, we love to see it), 5x15 (I am not immune to Brothers Jones feelings ok), 5x20 (emma literally takes a True Love Test trying to find a way to save killian, you don’t get more romantic than that--also Killian telling Emma to promise she won’t put her armor back up just because she lost him again??? my HEART), 5x21 (Hook does what he can from the Underworld anyway and zeus sends him back to Emma, they really just said ‘today I will invent romance’ and then Did That)
And then, yeah, just skip to the wedding. It’s beautiful, I enjoyed the music, personally, though I know musical episodes are hit or miss with most people. And if you turn it off when the last musical number starts (after the wedding ceremony, I believe) you can pretend it was the end of the show! =DDD
.....Oh my god I just rambled for years. I HOPE YOU FIND THIS USEFUL, ANON. I 100% support a CS-centered rewatch, their episodes were consistently some of the best across the entire series, and they are truly one of my favorite romances of all time.
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hookd · 3 years
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character study: harry hook
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basics
is your muse tall/short/average? tall! 6′0! although that’s like, averagely tall. are they okay with their height? yeah, unless someone like, 6′1 comes up next to him, the he’ll get frustrated, but otherwise, he doesn’t think about it. what’s their hair like? brown and messy, usually. with either his hat or his fingers in it, it tends to be stuck up some sort of way. it’s kept short for the most part, although sometimes he’ll let it grow out a bit. do they spend a lot of time on hair/grooming? no, not at all. does your muse care about their appearance/what others think? nope! he wants people to look at him and think that he’s attractive, of course, in general, past his need for attention, he really doesn’t care.
preferences
indoors or outdoors? outdoors. rain or sunshine? either, he’s not picky. forest or beach? beach, absolutely. precious metals or gems? they’re both nice, but he honestly doesn’t care much about having them. flowers or perfumes? flowers. personality or appearance? appearance sparks his interest, but a good personality is what keeps him around. being alone or being in a crowd? somewhere in between, being with the few he’s comfortable with. order or anarchy? anarchy!!! painful truths or white lies? painful truths. science or magic? magic. peace or conflict? other people’s drama or the occasional fight can be fun, but god, this boy needs some peace. night or day? night. dusk or dawn? both. warmth or cold? cold, uma is cold to the touch. many acquaintances or a few close friends? a few close friends. reading or playing a game? reading.
questionnaire
what are some of your muse’s bad habits? he used to drink pretty regularly, although he’s gotten that under control recently. he bottles a lot of his feelings in, worrying that he would be too much of burden to keep around otherwise, but he’s doing his best to work on that, too. he was pretty mean to and violent towards people just for fun on the isle, and he tends not to give people a chance to get to know him before he closes them out. has your muse lost anyone close to them? how has it affected them? he has almost certainly lost people around him, the isle being the way it was although i’ve never put a whole lot of thought into it. otherwise, though, the biggest loss in his life has been his mother, who left him at the jolly roger after he was born. he doesn’t think about it much on the isle, he doesn’t know who she is and she clearly didn’t want him, so he doesn’t want her, either, but after coming to auradon, seeing all of these two parent families, with the idea of that’s what’s right, it feels weird, and he does find himself wondering, sometimes, who she is, why she didn’t want him, what things would have been like if she had. the isle wasn’t very big, and he wonders if she ever saw him, if he ever saw her. if she cares, if she’s even alive. he tries not to dwell on it. what are some fond memories your muse has? his fond memories include his sisters or the crew of the lost revenge, or some of the other kids on the docks, who he’d play with before they all got old enough to work on a ship. quiet nights curled up with harriet and cj, loud nights on the lost revenge where they all felt like a family. meeting uma, every private moment they’ve had since then. the first time he kissed her or gil, and when he was able to tell them both that he loves them. is it easy for your muse to kill? absolutely. he has on the isle, both out of necessity and just to send a message because it was something fun to do, and he enjoyed it every time. what’s it like when your muse breaks down? bad! he’ll isolate himself to keep from burdening anyone with himself, he gets very quiet and disconnected, or he’ll lash out and pick fights ( although never at the people he loves, he puts so much constant work into keeping his anger away from them ). before he got sober, he would get drunk, but otherwise he pushes himself and works as much as he can, keeps himself busy so that he doesn’t have to stop and think or feel. is your muse capable of trusting someone with their life? yes, although not easily. growing up on the isle, you kind of end up having to, and he knows that gil, uma, his sisters, and the rest of the crew are people he can trust his life with, although it’s incredibly hard for him to trust anyone outside of that circle that much. what’s your muse like when they’re in love? insufferable. he’s stupidly and openly dedicated to the people he loves, and will spend his time thinking about them, talking about them, doing what he can be be near them ( although he knows he can get obsessive, and puts constant work into keeping that in check, to, making sure he can function without them and give them space ). he respects them, would do absolutely anything for them. he’s passionate, loving, and will do absolutely everything in his power to make them feel as happy and as good as he possibly can, doing what he can for them and to care for them, but at the same time always respecting their boundaries and making sure he doesn’t ever overstep them or do anything to hurt them.
tagged by: stolen from: @loetise​ / myself tagging: you!
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killiansprincss · 3 years
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Never Forget You ch.14
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Season 6A Canon Divergence.
Emma is happy. Finally happy with her parents, son and boyfriend. But this happiness is taken away from her when the Evil Queen curses her and turns her into a toddler.
Heartbroken and angry, Killian and Henry run away to Neverland to wait for Emma to break her curse.
But when she does break it and comes looking for them 25 years later, she soon realises this Neverland is very different now it is no longer under Pans rule.
Will she be able to save Henry and Killian in time, or will this new ruler of Neverland keep them hostage forever?
Hi all here is the newest chapter in Neverland fic and it is angsty from here on out ;)
this fic means the world to me it brings me such joy writing it so if you liked it please let me know I’d love to hear what people think of it!
Link to AO3
“So I still don’t understand why she wants to keep the two of you?” Snow asks the next morning at Henry’s treehouse.
 Killian and Henry look at one another, “You want to tell them the truth, Lad, or should I?”
Henry looks over at his family, “It’s my blood that has allowed us to stay for so long, I’ll tell them.”
“Blood? Excuse me?” Emma asks ready to murder the fairy.
“It’s okay love. Listen.” Killian says putting his hand on her back. It felt like normal again, with his hand finding the spot on her back that always managed to calm her. David and Snow were glad to see them all working together again.
“Gold told us that because I still have the heart of the truest believer, a few drops of my blood would restore the youthfulness of this place. So when we came here, I gave a few drops, but it needed more. I sorta passed out because a voice was telling me it needed more blood.” Henry explains, but seeing the look on his mother's face, he then quickly adds, “But I was totally fine, Killian saved me before it was too late. But now I think our time is running out, if I don’t give this Island more of my blood then the fairies can’t stay here and the magic will be gone.”
“Not too dissimilar from Pan then.” David comments. “So how do we defeat her?”
“I have a theory I’ve been sitting on for a while, but it’s dangerous, and I don’t want a repeat of History.” Killian says gesturing towards David.
“No. No. No.” Snow yells. “I almost lost my husband once, we can’t risk it.”
“It might be the only way.” David tells his wife. “Do you want to get off this Island as a family?”
“Okay someone fill me in please. Unless you forgot, I was not born when this happened!” Neal interrupts.
“Dreamshade.” Emma tells her brother. “It’s Neverland's most deadly poison. Dad got infected last time and almost died.” She turns back to Killian, “But the water saves you as long as you stay on the Island, so how does that help us?”
“Wait hold on-Dad got poisoned? And almost died?” Neal suddenly realises there is so much about his family that he didn’t know about.
“I have a concentrated dose on my ship that I’ve been working on. In theory, even if she does drink the water, she can’t leave, she cannot try and stop us.” Killian explains.
“A concentrated dose like the one you gave Gold in New York?” Emma asks, smiling fondly at the memory.
“Aye. Except, a much stronger dose. Hopefully to a fairy, the dose will reach her heart much faster than it did the Dark One.” He looks over to David and Snow. “I’m fully aware that it could go wrong and I don’t want to put you in any danger.”
“We’re aware of the danger, but it’s nothing we haven’t faced before. We can handle a fairy.” David says confidently.
“With all due respect Gramps, these fairies aren’t like blue or any of the other fairies in the Enchanted Forest or Storybrooke.” Henry explains, worrying about their newfound confidence. “In Neverland they play by different rules, they use dark magic, darker magic than mom used as a dark one.
_________
Cecelia was angry.
She didn’t like visitors. Especially if those visitors were the ones trying to take away the magic that kept her alive in her home.
She needed a way to stop her new visitors, especially the blonde who was taking the pirate away.
Normally she would spend her nights in Pixie Hollow with her sisters, but she had a feeling the blonde wasn’t going away. At the end of the night, she flew over to the Lost Ones clearing and what did she see? The blonde with Hook. This could not happen. She needed a plan to separate the two of them, get the blonde back to wherever she was headed, and keep Hook and the boy here.
Pan was a nightmare. He was ruining her Island, though he called it ‘his Island’. He had been here a hundred years and already the Island had changed, the pixie dust was running out, in another hundred years or so the Island would likely die. Pan was apparently searching for a boy that would save the Island, but Cecelia didn’t buy into it-prophecies are 99% of the time wrong, if this boy ever did show up she wonders if he would save the Island.
Thankfully Pan was not able to enter her safe haven. And neither could Tinkerbell since her wings and magic were gone. She could easily avoid her, and if she did see her again, what could the little green fairy do anyway she was powerless. But it did affect her access to fairy dust, he used most of it on his pack of Lost Boys who were typically using it to fight with real weapons, or use it to battle the Pirates that were now stuck on this Island.
Cecelia decided she was sick of hiding in Pixie Hollow, she wanted to see what Pan had done to her home, and see if she could stop it. That’s when she saw him for the very first time. The Pirate. With a Hook for a hand. He was dressed in all leather, a red vest with a large black leather coat and leather pants. He had scruffy black hair and eyes as blue as the sea in Neverland cove.
She transformed into human size so she could follow him. He was with another pirate, this one short and stocky, blue and white striped shirt and a red hat. Not nearly as gorgeous as the man with the silver Hook. She tried to understand what they were saying, something about a weapon, a dagger.
“The dagger is the only weapon that can defeat him. If I can get my hand on it I can skin myself a crocodile at last. I just need a way off this blasted Island.” The one with the Hook said, he sounded angry, whatever this crocodile was, was sure to be a force to be reckoned with.
“Even if Pan gives us a way off this Island, how do you plan on getting the dagger? Baelfire said-“ the shorter man begins to say before the Hooked pirate cuts him off.
“Don’t say his name.” Whoever this Baelfire was, he clearly made a lasting impact on the Pirates lives, the way he sounded upset by the thought of him.
“Sorry Captain. But say we get back to the Enchanted Forest, how do you plan on getting the dagger if he has it on his possession?” Ahh it made sense now, the Hooked Pirate was a Captain, the way the smaller one almost quaked with fear when speaking to him.
“I have a plan.”
One moment Cecelia is walking a fair few paces behind the two pirates, hiding in the darkness so they don’t see but still within earshot, and the next moment the leather clad Pirate had a dagger to her throat and her back against the nearest tree.
“Who are you and why are you following me?” The Pirate asks. It was the leather clad Hooked pirate, the smaller one had scurried ahead leaving just the two of them in the hot Neverland Jungle.
Cecelia laughs as she clicks her fingers and the dagger against her throat disappears and reappears in her own hand.
“A fairy.” The Pirate states, not asks, as he takes a step away from her.
“You know of my kind?” Cecelia asks him with a seductive smile.
“I’m not fond of fairies. Especially the ones I’ve met on this Island.” The Pirate sneers.
“Let me guess Tinkerbell?” Cecelia asks, she assumed Tink was the only fairy who would run into a pirate, but she couldn’t be sure, she needed to protect herself in case there was someone working for Pan who would report her.
The Captain laughs in a husky tone, “not a fan of her either I take it?”
Cecelia shrugs, “she’s not my friend, but she may see me as an enemy.”
“Whatever did you do to the poor girl?” The captain asks. He was very handsome, Cecelia had encountered many pirates in her life, yet none quite like this one.
“Well like Pirates I’m sure, a fairy never reveals her secrets.” Cecelia was flirting, the Captain was sure of it, so he decided to flirt back.
“Hmm secrets are a delicate thing. Is your name a secret too, or do I get the pleasure of knowing it?”
“Cecelia.” She replies with a glint in her eye. “And yours? I can’t just call you Captain now can I? Or would you like that?” She whispers the last part into his ear.
“Hook.” He tells her smirking as he uses his Hook to bring her closer.
“Clever.” She muses. “You’re a pirate, I assume you have a ship.”
“The Jolly Roger, she’s the most powerful in all the realms.”
Cecelia fondles with his Hook for a moment, “Would you like some company?”
Hook grins. “Are you offering?”
________
Her talk with the blonde Hook was in love with, didn't go down well as well as she had hoped. Cecelia threatened her, told her to leave and she didn’t. She was a stubborn stupid human, but she needed to take it to the next level.
Show her what Hook and her had, how it was nothing compared to what the blonde experienced with him in her land. She couldn’t kill the blonde right away, not with her whole family here. No, she needed to make her leave and she will get Verena to help kill them all if necessary.
____
The next two nights Cecelia watches the blonde with the Lost Ones. She sees how Hook looks at her, and how she looks at him. It makes her sick. The Lost Ones even look happy, they’re never happy. What was it about this girl that made her so special? Why of all the women, this plain girl was the apple of her Captains eye.
“You know you kissed me for the very first time right around here.” The Captain tells his blonde. She listens in, to see what she can find out, and what she can use against them.
“I remember. You were annoying me, I thought I would just kiss you to get you to shut up!”
“And you realised you’d made a huge mistake as you fell in love with me?” Cecelia couldn’t tell if he was teasing or not, their relationship was still a mystery.
The blonde hits him playfully, “you’re such an ass. If you recall your confession in the Echo Caves, you were the one you realised you couldn’t live without me.”
“Now, now Swan whose rewriting history. I am amazed that you still chose me, you love me after all I’ve done.”
The blonde runs her fingers through his hair, “hey. Stop. We talked about this, you’re not that man anymore, I fell in love with you because you chose to change, you said you wanted to be a better man and that’s exactly what you are. I don’t care what you did on this Island while I was cursed, it doesn’t matter, you’re still the man I fell in love with who risked everything for me, who is selfless and chooses to do the right thing.”
Cassandra turns away as they start to kiss, she doesn't need to see that. So, the Captain has insecurities, that she can take advantage of.
The Echo Caves.
Cass hadn’t heard of those in centuries. She knew Pan liked to use them to trap his unwelcome visitors, but she hadn’t known her Captain was a victim.
They were used in the olden times of Neverland to reveal the darkest secrets of fairies who were going bad and had to reveal the truths of their actions, but Pan ended up using it as a trap and to cause a rift between friends. And that’s exactly what Cecelia was going to plan. She would cause a rift by making them reveal their darkest secrets, and the blonde would go back home.
“Verena! Verena! Wake up!” Back in Pixie Hollow she decides to let her sister know of her plan, and how she can help her.
“The Echo Caves? Are you serious Cecelia?” Verena had heard the stories of the caves, how fairies were forced to reveal their darkest secrets and it was never pretty.
“Whose side are you on?” Cecelia was suddenly starting to doubt her sister, it wouldn’t be the first time.
“Yours obviously! But is it safe?”
“I heard the Pirate talking to the blonde, they went through it before when Pan was still in power. If it didn’t break them before, this time it will.” Cecelia feels confident, Hook had been here for 25 years all alone, his desires had clearly changed.
“So what’s the plan?”
_____
On the fifth night of watching the Pirate and his blonde, Cecelia decides this is the time to intervene. She’s sick of seeing Hook, a fearless and deadly Pirate turned into a “hero” by his lover.
The Lost Ones are finishing up, slowly disappearing back to their beds. Hook luckily is still in conversation with the young boy, the blonde however had finished talking to her lost girl, she was all alone.
Shrinking down to fairy size, she flies into the Lost Ones clearing, and freezes Hook and Henry before returning to human size.
“Cecelia.”
Cecelia smiles at the blonde, “the one and only.”
“What do you want? I already told you, I am not leaving this Island alone.” She was brave. But bravery almost meant stupidity.
“You and Hook just look so happy together. But I’m afraid he’s been keeping secrets from you.” She says, in a sweet but also malicious tone.
“What secrets?” Emma was convicted this fairy was just trying to mess with her head, Killian had been honest the past few days since they reconciled, no way would he be keeping secrets.
“I trust you’re familiar with memory magic?” Cecelia asks as a dream catcher appears in her hands.
Emma nods, all too familiar with dream catcher magic.
She watches as Cecelia makes the dream catcher glow as scenes of her in Neverland start to play out.
“I really don’t need to watch your life story.” Emma says rolling her eyes. But then.
Killian. She sees Killian in those memories. Well, he was in Neverland for 300 years and their paths were surely to cross. The dream catcher doesn’t have any sound, but she doesn’t need sound for what she sees next.
It’s Killian and Cecelia. Together. Lips on one another, bodies pressed together and legs tangled up.
Emma feels like she could vomit.
“You’re lying. This is, this isn’t true.” She manages to say, thoughts whirling around in her head.
Cecelia smirks. “You’re familiar with memory magic, you know how it works. I couldn’t tamper with it even if I wanted to. I guess Hook hasn’t been as honest with you as you thought, such a shame.”
Emma stands there for a few moments, resisting the urge to bring up everything in her stomach. Cecelia just flies away looking satisfied with herself.
“Everything alright love?” Killian appears a few minutes later, completely unaware of the situation.
“I don’t know. You tell me.” Emma feels betrayed, how could he do that to her?
“I’m not sure I understand love.” He says, giving her a puzzled look, “are you feeling okay? Want to take a sail on the Jolly, clear your mind a bit?”
“The Jolly? Where you’ve been fucking Cecelia? I’m good thanks.” She spats.
Killian is lost for words, “Emma what the hell are you talking about?”
Glaring at him, she tells him of Cecelia’s visit to her, and the memories she saw of the two of them.
“Emma, please understand. That was a long time ago. It-“
“Oh so you’re not denying it happened?” She cuts him off, how dare he.
“I would never lie to you Emma. But whatever she showed you, happened a long time ago, long before I met you.” This was all part of Cecelia's plan to drive them apart, Killian was sick of her tricks.
“Just because I was cursed doesn’t mean I’m stupid. How am I meant to believe it was before you met me?”
Killian takes a step toward her, to take her hand but Emma snatches away. “I can’t prove it, but you’ve gotta trust me.”
“I’ve been cursed for 25 fucking years, Hook. That doesn’t give you an excuse to fuck the first woman you see just because I’m not around.” Her voice was getting louder the angrier she was getting.
“Emma I love you. Don’t act innocent though, like you said you were cursed for 25 years, you’re telling me you didn’t jump into bed with a man that isn’t me?” Killian was now just as angry, sure it had been 25 years but he expected better of her.
Emma doesn’t answer his question.
“I thought you said you saw me in your dreams.” Killian says tremulously. “That you were always seeing me. Was that all a lie to get me to go back with you?”
“No! Of course not! I did see you in my dreams, but that’s the thing you were a dream. I had no idea who you were. But don’t change the subject, I was cursed I could sleep with as many men who weren’t you and it would be okay. You on the other hand, slept with the fairy while you were waiting for me. You clearly don’t love me, so I think If we defeat Cecelia, I’m taking Henry and my family back with me, you fsnnstau here I really don’t care.” Emma’s voice was wobbly she felt like the was about to burst into tears.
“Emma. I do love you, whatever she’s shown you is a lie. I never touched her while you were here, I would have never do that to you.”
He tries to call out after her, but it’s no use, she’s walking back to her camp angry and upset, he was going to kill the fairy.
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medicus-mortem · 3 years
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@ikkaku-of-heart​ asked: Once again it was Law’s birthday, and once again Ikkaku had worked hard on figuring out a gift that he would enjoy. Something to show her appreciation for the fact that he’d been alive and in her life another full year. So, strolling into his office, she handed him a wrapped box. Inside was a black leather jacket with his signature jolly roger on the back, the inside lined with a soft, silver leopard faux fur. Inside one of the pockets, however, was the gift she had personally made – a thick coin with the jolly roger on one side and a narwhal on the other. But it wasn't really a coin he could add to his collection, but a multi-tool she'd designed and made herself. If he felt along the edge of the coin, he’d find little grooves he could pull out, revealing a small scalpel blade, magnifying glass, bottle opener, and lock pick. “Happy birthday, Law,” she said, pulling him in for a warm hug and a sisterly kiss on the cheek. “I know this isn’t exactly your favorite day of the year, but like it or not, you’re worth celebrating. And I’m never going to let you forget that. Ever.” 
Birthday Stuff
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   Law scrawls away at his documents, trying to get some work done before his crew drags him into the inevitable far too extravagant party that comes with this day. Ikkaku however believes they should start celebrating sooner because she walks into his office with a gift in hand. He catches her entrance out of the corner of his eye and lowers his pen to swivel his chair around and give her his attention. She presses a box onto his lap, golden eyes lowering to look at the neat wrapping. There is a hum in response to her birthday wishes moments before hands move to open the box.
    An eyebrow arches at the jacket he sees inside, fingers trailing over the yellow mark on its back. He turns it over to find that fur interior, instantly pushing a hand into it to see if the soft lining stacks up to his fur texture standards. It does. Soft and warm. How wonderful. Might just wear this jacket without a shirt underneath. Could feel really good. As his hand move over the material he feels something hard and weighted in a pocket. Frowning, Law fishes it out and soon holds a hand made coin, or what he assumes it to be. It’s much larger and thicker than most coins.
   “Heh, thanks Ikkaku,” he chuckles, rolling the heavy coin around in his fingers, an amused smile on his lips. Then a nail catches on one of the grooves. Law tilts his head and tugs at it, pulling out the bottle opener. He soon finds the other grooves and every tool is revealed, the doctor wondering how she got all this in a circle.
   “Well, look at that,” he continues, turning a smile to his engineer. “Full of surprises. Again, thank Ikkaku, and don’t you worry. All you idiots never fail to make me feel celebrated, even when I’d rather you didn’t.”
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gildedmuse · 4 years
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So... I have this bad habit where sometimes, when attempting to summarize the idea for a fic, I go into waaay too much detail.
Like, I don't go as far as to actually wrote the damn thing because, you know, effort and laziness, but... Well, it's a close call. It gets to the point where it's less a summary and more what my friends use to call a Quick Fic. All that's .kissing is the actual dialogue and descriptive narration.
Having said that....
Here is a "summary" of an ZoLaw AU where Law works for Doflamingo...
What happened was, basically, Law got caught by Doflamingo after eating the devil's fruit which eventually allowed him to cure his dieses, thus why he's still alive. Or, at least, isn't dead from lead poisoning. Because let's face it, Doflamingo could have just killed the boy then and there. Sure, he'd have to find the fruit all over again, but better that the deal with this little traitor
Except really it was his brother who had been the traitor. Law is still just a child, and children can be so suspectable to any number of ideas so long as an adult gives them a pat on the head and a treat after.
Which is when Doflamingo realizes that he can just manipulate Law into being another loyal follower. Then eventually - when he's no longer useful - Doffy will have him sacrifice his life for his own immortality. By that point Law will be family, and family never lets Doffy down. Not anymore.
So it's under Doffy's personal tutorage that Law grows up, and as much as he might resit the man who imprisoned Corazon, it's hard not to eventually fall to all Doflamingo's sweet praise and promised. And Law gets what he had wanted all along: a way to get back at the world that willingly watched his home wiped off the official world map and would be happy to see the entire town dead to the very last one. This Law truly earns his title Surgeon of Death, acting as the top officer of Hearts in the Doflamingo crime family. And yet despite his cruelty, he isn't even on the government's wanted list; protected under the Shichibukai's jolly roger.
In the meantime, the Strawhats are still doing their thing right on through Punk Hazard (which they somehow manage to not only live through but actually do more damage and cause twice as much chaos. The biggest difference is that Ceaser and Monet escape and Sanji can't perv out over being in Nami's body). So this time when they roll into Dressrosa it's less "backing up the plan of an ally" and much more "on complete and total accident" and "without a damn clue".
Yeah, basically they're the Grand Line's easiest prey.
But, hey, it works out! Well, no, not really. But Sanji does meet Violet, Luffy meet Sabo and help recover Ace's devil's fruit, and Zoro does get lost and require a magic fairy guide. Plus, hey, since they're not really there for any purpose other than that they happened to be passing by, it's not like they can't pull a dine and dash. They may be unprepared, but The Monster Trio can still keep up the fight until everyone is back on the Sunny.
A perfect escape!
Except no.
Because Luffy isn't totally ready to leave, not when he wants to know more about what Sabo is doing and help his new friend Rebecca. Not that they have time to debate the merits of staying or pulling a tactical retreat since at that poing Big Momma is on their ass. And that scary dude in the long black coat is still somehow following them, teleporting himself through the fucking air like wtf why is this happening now!? Nami is forced to make an executive decision: they're can't stay. Also, oh God oh God they're trapped and they're going to be killed and oh God.
It's moments like these you're almost thankful one of your crew members is a total maniac. Because in the middle of all this mess, Zoro just smirks, tells Nami to just concentrate on getting away from that annoying ass ship, he's got their other attacker covered. Which only makes everyone freaks out MORE because what is Zoro thinking: he'll be killed! ("Not immediately, of course. First they'll likely torture him for information, perhaps even kill him as slowly as possible." / "What? Why would you say that? That is not SUPER helpful to hear right then!") The Sunny goes into an all out panic attack. Everyone is yelling or crying or both.
Except Luffy.
Luffy who looks at Zoro, at the singing ship, at the dark power user trying to slash their ship apart, at the shore line of this island and the way it radiates a fake happiness covering Rebecca's very real pain. Luffy who just lowers his hat over his eyes and gives the nod.
Zoro smiles, and is immediately almost clobbered by a giant Chopper. What is Luffy saying? Don't they realize that is the same guy who almost took down Sanji, Zoro AND Luffy only moments ago? Zoro can't fight him alone! Sanji, more calm than the rest, lights a cigarette while explaining that he's not trying to stop Zoro from getting himself killed or anything, but Chopper is right. That guy was incredibly tough, and there's no way Zoro can do it alone ("Shut up dartbrow! You don't know what the hell you're talking about! I could take him down with just the two swords! With one hand behind my back!" / "He already kicked your ass once, Marimo! Or have you forgotten because of all the head trauma!?" / "The only reason he kicked OUR asses is because YOU kept getting in my way you damn weak-ass cook!" / "WHAT DID YOU CALL ME, IDIOT MARIMO!?") Franky tries to regulate the fight but he's busy blocking those deadly aimed slashes from hitting his poor ship while Brook and Kin'emon work on stopping the incoming cannon balls. Either way they're going to have to do something SUPER fast if they want to get out of here. Yeah, Luffy, we need an actual plan. We can't just send Zoro out to-
"Zoro", Luffy says and despite everything going on around them the deck of the Sunny goes really quiet. They all know that tone. "Zoro, I need you to take care of this until we can get back. I still need to kick Mingo's ass for a friend."
At the sound of his captain's no nonsense voice, Zoro is suddenly easily able to stand, shrugging off the pile of people trying to stop him from jumping to his death (and by pile of people I do mean the coward trio and Sanji, who is mostly just trying to get in a few kicks). He draws Wado, clutching the katana in his teeth and yet still somehow manages what you know is a smirk. It's a promise.
And like that, Zoro is launching himself right into the blue sphere of the battle.
A battle against one of Doflamingo's top officers. A devil's fruit user with a twisted heart and home field advantage. Needless to say, it does not end well for our hero.
—🧡—
Although, Law has to give his rival swordsman some credit. He has his share of fun toying with the boy, and despite never standing any real chance of victory Law can admit the strawhat pirate puts up a better fight than most. Far better than Law had been expecting from some one so new to the New World (supposedly he got Mihawk to agree to train him, but Law has met the Hawk Eye and finds the idea utterly absurd). Then there is the way his smile had just an edge of what Law could only call manical delight, even when it became clear he'd long lost. This greenhaired kid really is stupid enough to believe his captain will come back for him. As though he would come charging back into Doflamingo's territory a second time just to retrieve a single crew member. One who was not only crazy enough to sacrifice himself but couldn't even win the fight. At the same time the swordman's loyalty and faith - as misplaced as it is - is kind of... Adorable. Who knew someone could come so far on the Grand Line and still be so innocent?
Law immediately wants to corrupt it.
Thes other family members will whine tell you, Doffy has always had... Let's say... A "soft spot" for Law. He's spoiled that brat for years, is what they mean but don't dare to say. Sure enough, Law barely has to work to talk Doffy around to letting him personally see to the prisoner's arrangements. Doflamingo is a little suspecious at first (he can never truly trust Law, not after the Corazon incident), but he quickly dismisses it. He's had the Heart Officer's loyalty for years now.
Of course, when he sees the spark of interest light in his apprentice as they eye their newest spoils of war, he can't help but tease Law. After all, Zoro is quite an enticing young man and Law isn't the only one there who likes pretty things. They're so fun to destroy which - judging from the way Law shivers when Doffy runs a hand through thick green hair before yanking the boys head back against the wall hard enough to leave the young captive panting and dizzy - is precisely his protege's plan.
(Doflamingo also happens to know Zoro almost definitely had trained under Mihawk, and he would love to see his fellow warlord's eyes flash with barely contained anger when he learns how Doflamingo has broken his favorite toy. It's not his fault - Mihawk is always so uptight and repressed, it makes agonizing him too much fun for Doflamingo to resist.)
In the end, though, he knows when Law's determination is set. And for whatever reason the boy has decided he absolutely has to be the one to keep their guest "comfortable" while his captain makes up his mind on what he'll do. So Doflamingo only teases for a bit - touches a little, plays with the barely conscious boy kneeling at his feet, enjoys the way Zoro still has enough spirit left to try taking bite when Doffy's fingers trail to close to his bloody lips (oh, and, what a joy! Law nearly growls at the prospect of not being the one to ruin the boy!) - but eventually he stops his little game. He gives in, telling Law to have fun with his treasure. He is the one who took him down after all. It is only fair he keeps him.
Just try not to completely break the poor thing, not until Strawhat returns for him.
Law snorts at the very idea. This is hardly the first time they'd done this. He's never seen a single captain try and retrieve their stolen property (he has of course, but he doesn't remember them). He doesn't see why Strawhat-ya would be particularly special.
Before Doflamingo can come up with a clever, vague answer about Law trusting him, Zoro suddenly gives a bark of laughter that would have scared lesser men senseless. It only serves to draw the two men's interest back to their little pet.
Luffy won't come back for him, Zoro confirms, much to Law's surprise (he personally never thought Strawhat-ya would, but then why would the swordsman sacrifice himself so willingly for a man he has so little faith in?) and has Doflamingo raising an eyebrow in.... Interest. Zoro looks at both of them with no fear, like he hadn't taken a humiliating defeat and is even now bloody and chained up, helplessly listening in on these two infamous pirates talk about him like he is a mere object. Actually, if anything, he appears to be wearing a smirk under all that blood. Because he knows something they don't.
Luffy won't come back for him, because his captain knows Zoro doesn't need to be rescued.
To Law, this makes Zoro look like an even sweeter treat. Doflamingo is simply amused, remarking that perhaps their little pup has yet to realize the leash around his neck is shaped like a noose.
Zoro meets his gaze, steady yet daring. He promised Luffy that he'd take care of it, and so that is what he will do. He'll never go back on his word, especially when it comes to his captain. Something Doflamingo with his distrusting and fear-toed crew couldn't understand. So see, their plan to use Zoro as bait will never work, because Zoro swore to Luffy that he'd be take care of it. So he will. Luffy has enough faith in Zoro that he'd never believe anything less and would never turn around out of doing to try and mount a rescue.
No, when Luffy comes back it will be for the sole purpose of kicking Doflamingo's ass.
The mood darkens. In a flash, Doflamingo is in back in front of him, yanking Zoro forward by the chin. He squeezes hard enough to bruise. You can hear the cracking of bone as he explains to Zoro exactly how precarious his current position is only to grow second by second more frustrate by Zoro's completely lack of fear. So he squeezes harder. He slams the boys head back into the wall and starts smiling when he gets a since from the stoic swordsman.
Before he can do any real damage Law steps in, reminding Doffy that he promised him he could have the boy. And just like that, Doflamingo's whole mood appears to shift back to calm. He puts on his fake smile and let's Zoro go, even pets the boy's hair. Of course, he had promised. And he, too, is a man of his word. Something Zoro will surely learn in time now that he is one of them.
Zoro, now with blurred vision and the taste of fresh blood on his tongue, is smart enough not to answer. But not smart enough to lower his head or try and appear humbled. Lucky for him, Doflamingo decides the boy isn't worth it. When he turns around he notes the hungry way Law is eyeing the kneeling prisoner behind him. Which brings a crueller, yet more genuine, smile to Doffy's featurss. The Strawhats vice captain may act invincible now, but he's never faced Doflamingo's own Surgeon Of Death. As disinterested and put off as Law might usually act, the boy can be dangerously twisted. He's sure his top officer will break the young pirate down bit by bit - both literally and figuratively - long before his captain can come running back in to try and find him (and Doflamingo is sure Strawhat will, no matter what Zoro might think).
He leaves with one last reminder to Law not to completely shatter the infamous Pirate Hunter. No, Doffy would hate to see their newest family member treated so poorly, especially seeing as he has much bigger plans in store for the young Mr. Roronoa. Specifically, he wants to see the face of Monkey D Luffy when he watches as the last bit of his first mate's spirit broken.
And because Doffy practically raised the boy and knows exactly the right buttons to push, he decides to give Law a little extra motivation to bring Zoro to that point. Just in case that interest turns into something dangerous like longing or - laughable as it is - actual fondness. It's so simple, too: as he walks by he simply whispers how there is nothing like crushing the heart of unrequited love.
It will be such a treat, tearing Zoro from his captain, and watching Luffy realize he's lost his chance to love the other man, wouldn't it Law? What a truly tragic romance. It almost makes you hope the two of them at least had some time together. Law didn't happen to give them a moment along before forcing Zoro to throw himself into the fight, hmm? Just a small, precious second or so for the two to share a final kiss. After all, not even Doffy is so cruel as to deny the poor boys such a tender moment.
Sure enough, Law's eyes immediately narrow and Doflamingo can feel the jealousy rolling off him. Not because Law gives a damn for their prisoner's feelings - Doflamingo raised him better than that - but he always has had a possessive streak. Having taken an interest in the swordsman, he will hate the thought that the boy might even think of another or that Law won't be the first to possess him in ever possible way.
Doffy leaves with a cruel, deep laugh. He can't wait until dinner, when he may just happen to remember the rumours about his "friend" Mihawk and his taking a young green-haired boy under this wing and in to his bed. By tomorrow he suspects every part of Zoro's body will bare at least some mark that he now firmly belongs to no one but Trafalgar Law.
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ohmightydevviepuu · 4 years
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a good day [1/1]
for the five of you who have been patient with me--more patient than i deserve-- here is the conclusion to my space pirates AU.  to @profdanglaisstuff​, to @katie-dub​, to @thisonesatellite​​ (who was very gracious and did not say ‘i told you so’ when i realized she’d been right about war stories).
this will truly be unintelligible if you have not read parts one and two, but they’re short.  i promise.
proximity alert cell block 1138 a good day
--
previously on ‘proximity alert’ and ‘cell block 1138′:  emma's gotten herself mixed up in a bad situation, and it's gotten even worse. with the help of the crew of the jolly roger, she's getting killian back, no matter what it takes.
~5k
AO3
--
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She was having difficulty breathing. Her hand hurt and sweat clouded her vision, dripping off her forehead. Her skin was blistered, burnt--standing upright was a challenge.
But she’d made it.
She’d piloted the shuttle successfully back to the Jolly Roger, sinking back into her chair when Will Scarlet voice crackled over her comm that he had her locked in.
She’d made it.
Federation Operative Emma Swan waited impatiently for the airlock to release and was faced immediately with Robin Locksley--”Where’s Killian?” he demanded--and Scarlet himself, who peered past her into the shuttle cockpit.
“Gold’s got him,” Emma gasped. “I--I got away. Killian, he--” Emma gulped.
“He didn’t.” Locksley’s face drained of all color and he said, “Gorramn it. This isn’t right.”
He was shaking his head and his eyes were on the floor, on the doors, on the goddamn ceiling. Anywhere but on Federation Operative Emma Swan.
“It’s wrong, is what you mean,” Scarlet said. He stared straight at her, his glare so hot Emma was surprised it didn’t burn. “The word you’re looking for is ‘wrong’.”
He turned and walked toward the cargo bay, as if that was that. But the word echoed for Emma, sweeping through her veins like the electrical current, sending tingles to her fingers and toes and heating up her cheeks and she pictured Killian spitting blood and venom at her, whispering poison into her ear as he riled her up--
--keeping her angry. Focused.
Protecting her. Unconsciously her fingers curled into a fist and her nails got caught in the scrapes the lockpick had made in her skin. His lockpick.
Robin caught her wince and gestured for her to follow in Scarlet’s wake.
“All of this is wrong,” he said. “This was not how the plan was meant to go.”
Scarlet stopped in his tracks and hissed, reaching for Locksley; for Emma, time stopped.
“Wait,” she said.
Locksley growled something unintelligible, ignoring her.
“Wait,” Emma said again, raising her voice, waiting for someone to speak and pulling the gun she’d stashed in the shuttle, pointing it at Will when no one did. “What plan?”
Scarlet looked at her, calmly. Quietly. Politely.
Emma really wanted to shoot him.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” she said instead. “What are you waiting for?”
That’s when Emma felt the arm around her neck and the pain in her wrist that loosened her grip on the gun.
Will pointed. “I was just waiting for Ursula to get up behind you.”
There was a whisper in her ear that said, “Calm down, sweetheart,” before the world went dark.
--
“She’s pretty. Way prettier than her identcard.”
“Of course she is. Don’t mean we have time for this.”
Emma woke up with a bandage around her palm, hooked up to a drip. There was a lightness in her head; they’d given her a smoother.
“She’s bleeding and burnt. We didn’t have a choice.”
“She left the Captain. That wasn’t part of the plan.”
“You know the Captain. Never gonna miss a chance for thrilling heroics. Especially not with--”
“Yeah. He’s a bid damn hero.” Someone was standing over her. “And she’s awake, anyway.”
Emma sat up and ignored the dizziness, reaching for the drip in her arm and trying not to scream from the movements.
“Easy,” said a man who was tall and blonde and staring at her as if she was a science experiment.”
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna happen.” It was Will.
“It’s not,” Emma said, but was restrained from further movement by a woman, tall and broad and beautiful with a fall of thick black hair and a gun at her hip.
“Listen to the doc,” she said, gesturing at the blonde man, and Emma recognized her voice. Part of her wanted to laugh at the ‘big damn hero’ comment and the other part of her wanted to cry, because that was Killian Jones.
That was why she’d gone to him, in spite of everything.
That was why he’d helped her, in spite of everything.
And now she’d lost--everything.
“What the hell is this?” Emma whispered. “We need to get Killian. We need to--” she gulped, feeling dizzy again “--find my kid. He’s not safe, Gold’s looking for him, we have to--”
“He’s alive, right?” It was the redhead speaking, the one who’d called Emma ‘pretty’.
Emma nodded and the redhead--she smiled. It didn’t last long, just until Will said, “For now.”
Robin Locksley smacked him on the back of the head. “We’re getting him back. Right, Ursula?”
The woman still gripping Emma’s shoulder smiled, too, though it was tiny and strained as she watched the redhead. “We are, Ariel. I promise.”
“Who’s your kid?” Locksley asked, but Emma was dizzy and nauseated and in pain and she couldn’t speak. She was nothing but a spiral of rage and regret that fed on each other, expanding outward--at the crew, at Killian--and then contracting inward, because all of this was her fault. It had been her mission, her plan.
Except--had it?
The spiral started over again, making breathing difficult until the redhead--Ariel--stepped forward and took Emma’s hand and squeezed it. She said, “You know that none of this is your fault, right?”
“Except for how it is,” Will said.
Ariel ignored him. “You’re not responsible. He was always going to go, and he was never going to leave you behind. That’s not the kind of man he is, and it’s the first thing he always teaches us when someone joins the crew.”
Emma looked at her and saw genuine sympathy in the woman’s eyes. She squeezed back. It was all she could do.
“Operative Swan.” A man spoke. He wasn’t tall but he carried himself with a sense of presence that Emma immediately found comforting. He was bald; his clothes were plain and grey and he walked as though he was wearing a uniform. “Please, relax. I assure you that we are going to get the Captain back. Tell us about your son.”
Will made an exaggerated show of tapping the chronometer on his wrist.
“No, Will, it’s clearly important to her, and it might give us additional information we need to finish the job safely.”
Will threw up his hands and ducked before Locksley could hit him again. Ursula kept her eyes trained on Emma while Ariel’s gaze flitted from one person to another.
“Call me Nemo,” the bald man said. “I promise you that you can tell me, Emma.”
“My son is--” Emma took a deep breath. “My son is Henry Cassidy. He’s Gold’s grandson, and Gold wants him back. That’s why I--” She shook her head. “That’s why I went to Killian, why I used him, why--”
Emma stopped talking.
Every face in the medbay was on her. Will had gone colorless. Ariel gasped. Even the doctor seemed interested.
“Shit.” It was Ursula.
“Emma?” Locksley looked sympathetic and Emma blinked back tears. She never should have left Henry with him, but Henry was special, Neal had insisted. Deserved his life with the best tutors and academies the Federation could offer--more than the life an always-on-the-job Operative could give him. Henry deserved his best chance.
Emma had no idea what she’d been getting in to.
She had regretted it immediately.
But that was already too late.
Nemo repeated, “Tell us about your son, Emma.”
But she was done with all of that.
“No,” Emma said. “Why don’t you tell me?”
A woman walked into the medbay just then--a woman with luscious, curly brown hair and a pale complexion and pink in the apples of her cheeks. When she walked in, Will Scarlet turned immediately in her direction, as if he could protect her from whatever was about to happen.
“Belle,” he said, but she cut him off with a glance.
“For starters,” she said, “his name isn’t Henry Cassidy any more. It’s Henry Mills.”
--
Killian breathed, and it hurt.
He ignored it.
Killian moved, and that hurt, too.
But he stayed focused.
Emma had gotten away.
Emma had gotten away.
She would be safe. The boy would be safe.
His crew would finish the job.
They would end this.
That was the plan.
He repeated it to himself as Gold turned up the dial for another round.
--
Regina Mills projected a majestic air that carried even across the crappy vidscreen in the medbay of the Jolly Roger.
“A man will die horribly, Regina, if we don’t do this. As a member of the Federation council you know how bad Gold is. You know personally how bad Gold is.”
“Yes,” Regina said, her tone impatient as she tapped one manicured finger on the table where she sat. “Which is why I hired this crew in the first place. He’s bought off most of the council and you personally know how invested I am in cutting off the flow of his influence. But I’m not in the business of doling out favors, and I am in the minority on the council. I wish--”
“We don’t have time to wish!” Emma’s hand banged on the cockpit and Ariel hissed. “Killian is being tortured, and what are you going to do, Madame Mills, when Gold comes after you? Or my son?”
“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep Henry safe.” The edge in Regina’s voice was sharp enough to cut.
“Regina? What’s going--wait. Is that--”
Emma stared.
His eyes looked so much like Neal’s, and the way his mouth curved--but the shape of his face, that was all her.
“Mom?” Henry said. “Mom! Is that really you?”
He beamed and his smile could light up the whole goddamn galaxy.
“Henry,” Emma said. She exhaled, feeling like she hadn’t been breathing until exactly that moment as, for a split second, everything was right with the world again.
“Aunt Belle!” he said with a friendly wave. “It’s so good to see you!”
“And you, Henry,” Belle said, glancing at Regina quickly.
But not quickly enough. “What’s going on?” Henry asked. “Mom, are you safe?”
The moment shattered.
Emma opened her mouth to speak but before she could begin to form the words Ursula stepped in and said, “That depends on Regina, Henry.”
Regina’s eyes flared with anger before an eyebrow went up in grudging respect. There was a swift tilt of her head and then, “I’ll do what I can. But so will you. You get me what I need, do I make myself clear?”
“Understood,” Ursula said, and then made a gesture across her throat as Scarlet cut the feed.
--
“Regina Mills has my son?” Emma kept repeating it. “Regina Mills took my son?”
“No,” Belle said. “That was me.”
Will’s arm wrapped around her shoulder and pulled her close. “I was married to Robert. Not for a long time, he--” Belle shuddered “--it didn’t end well. I couldn’t leave Henry there. And I knew about Killian, about his history with my husband. It was the best I could make of a terrible situation. Henry’s--he’s such a special boy; I knew Killian would want him to be safe, for the sake of his father and their friendship.”
“None of us knew the Cassidy kid was your son,” Will said. “We were after something else entirely. You being on a mission to go after Gold, well--” he shrugged “--it was too good an opportunity to pass up.”
Emma had a sudden flash of Smee’s distinctive red hat in the darkness. Of Killian’s lack of surprise when he’d seen her in the middle of his job.
His willingness to follow her into Gold’s space station.
It clicked.
“Killian got captured on purpose,” Emma said. “Why? What did it have to do with my son? Gold is a killer--”
“Yes, we know,” Ursula said. “That’s why he was supposed to say alive long enough to not get dead.”
“That would involve being rescued,” Emma said.
“Yes,” Ursula said, giving Emma a long look. “It would.”
The lockpick. Emma’s hand flexed.
“It was the best way to get the drop on Gold,” Locksley said. “He’s got superior numbers and firepower, and, well--” He shrugged. “For what it’s worth, Emma, I’m sorry this happened to you.”
“There’s no saying ‘I’m sorry’ in the field,” she snapped.
Will snorted.
Ursula raised an eyebrow.
Emma did not like being used as a diversion.
She was also not a particular fan of irony.
Emma shifted uncomfortably on the bed Dr. Whale had put her in. The problem was, there’s nothing harder in the world when an operation goes bad than doing nothing at all.
Nemo was watching her and she focused her attention on him. “None of that answers my question,” she said.
“Killian used to work with Cassidy,” Nemo said. “Back in his Federation days, before--”
“Before the murder, piracy, smuggling, theft of Federation property, desertion and dereletion of duty?” Emma said. “Shocking.”
“It can be a lot to take in,” Nemo said.
“No, I meant the part about how it was before the crimes and not after,” Emma sighed. “Neal was never much for law abiding.”
But Killian was. Or he had been, once. She’d seen the files.
“Cassidy got mixed up in something terrible,” Nemo said. “Killian got involved to try and pull him out. Made a deal with Gold but the op got burned. Killian’s brother died. Cassidy went back to his dad. Killian was out of choices. He disappeared, and took this ship.”
“How’d he pull that one off?”
“He’s a hell of a captain,” Ursula said.
“He had help from inside, didn’t he?” Emma said.
Belle nodded. “He did. He had help from Regina Mills. Robert always suspected she’d done it purely out of spite against him.”
“Regina--” Emma’s jaw dropped. “Regina Mills? Killian got himself involved in a pissing match between two of the most powerful people in the entire Federation?”
“‘S how we knew you were going after Gold,” Will muttered. “Regina keeps a close eye on him. Once the Cap’n heard you were involved there was no stopping him. Figured the best way to stop Gold was just to get in the middle of it.” His expression darkened. “Shoulda known Gold had something else up his sleeve. Once you end up on the wrong side of one of that man’s deals, there’s no corner of the ‘verse he won’t go searching.”
“Stop scaring the children, Scarlet,” Ursula said. “The ‘verse doesn’t have actual corners.”
Whale snickered.
Emma pulled out the drip and rubbed at the spot on her arm. “What’s next?” she asked.
“Plan B,” Ursula said.
“What’s Plan B?” Ariel chirped.
“I’m working on it,” Ursula sighed.
“Well, obviously we have some tactical goals,” Emma said. “We have a rough approach.”
“Can you do it?” Ariel asked.
“No.” That was Whale. “Probably not.”
“Hey,” Ariel said. “What happened to ‘no man left behind’?”
Whale shook his head and smirked. “Suicide.”
Nemo said nothing but turned his gaze dead on the doctor until the smirk faded and the man shifted his posture and, finally nodded. “Right,” he said. “Plan B it is.”
--
There was a stash of weapons on the galley table. Guns, knives, grenades; it was an arsenal.
Emma was impressed.
Planning a high-level action like this--it required a certain amount of quantitative thinking mixed in with just a hint of immorality and a dash of spite.
That, plus a driving personal desire to keep it going during the downtime.
Emma knew a little something about that.
So did Killian Jones.
But this--”This was all Regina’s doing, wasn’t it? She used him?”
Will snorted and Robin smiled. “It was, but not in the way you’d think,” he said, taking the gun Ursula had just checked and loaded. “The difference between being on the inside and on the outside--it’s all about sanction. Killian lost his. Found out his partners were his enemies and that the world was a much darker place than even he realized. So he found us--a bunch of folk on the wrong side of the law who didn’t hold it against him that he used to be on the right side. It’s the same for him and Regina.”
“You’re only a pawn if you don’t know you’re being played,” Nemo said. “Killian always knows.” He refused Ursula’s proffered gun and reached instead for a pair of knives that he sheathed expertly before he asked, “What about you, Emma?”
What Emma had learned from the so-called right side of the law was that it was bad business to put her faith into anything she couldn’t control. The only person who saved her was her.
“Here’s the thing,” Ursula said, cutting her gaze between Nemo and Emma. “We like to plan our missions with the idea of everyone getting out. You know, together. So why don’t you sit back and let us do the heavy lifting?”
“This is a bad idea,” Emma said instead of answering. “He’ll still have the advantage over you.”
“Everyone always does,” Nemo said. “That’s what makes us special.”
“I thought Operatives weren’t allowed to have associates like the Captain, anyway,” Ursula said. Her eyes were measuring, and Emma--clearly--did not come up to scratch.
“Lovers!” Ariel chimed in.
“We weren’t--” Emma huffed. “I got a good look at the layout on my way out. I had the goddamn blueprints for my infiltration. Let me lead--”
“No.” Ursula said. “We have Belle for that.” But she exchanged glances with Locksley and Scarlet and then sighed. She reached for the table and picked up two grenades, passing them to Emma.
“This is about trust,” Ursula said. “Captain trusts you. But you’ve got your own agenda just like we’ve got ours, so it’s also important to have honor. Do you have honor, Operative Swan?”
That was the other thing: Emma knew this story--about the bad woman and the bad man. The one where bad things happen and then the woman is left to pine away for her handsome hero, waiting for him to come back, for someone to smirk, and to declare it a happy ending. But for Emma Swan, all of the endings she’d been part of were unhappy.
But maybe they didn’t have to be.
Maybe they didn’t need any more time-outs or codenames or dark rooms full of bad ideas.
Maybe this time, they could win.
“We weren’t lovers,” Emma said, meeting Ursula stare-for-stare. “I love him. I am in love with him.”
Ursula’s face didn’t change but something flickered in her eyes as Robin broke out into a genuine smile.
Will Scarlet just shook his head.
“Finally,” he said to no one in particular. “She admits it. Do you know how many stupid jobs Captain made us pull just to keep us in your orbit?”
--
The proximity alert buzzed on the edges of Killian’s consciousness and his fingers clenched, his jaw tightened.
Gold looked up, his face twisted in consternation before he turned to glare at Killian.
“Listen, if you’ve got guests, I can come back later--”
Gold took two steps forward, his cane raised over his head but Killian struck first, pulling his arms from behind his body. He was battered, he was bruised, he was half-dead, but he was walking and upright and advancing on Gold.
“Don’t take another step,” Gold warned.
“I did a job,” Killian said. “You’re not the only one who lost that day. I lost my brother, I lost my livelihood, I lost everything I thought I was.” He took another step. “Tell me, are you familiar with the saying ‘He who knows when he can fight and when he cannot will be victorious’?” He backhanded Gold across the faced and watched him crumple, his mouth bloody, his arms up as he attempted--poorly--to defend himself. Killian shuffled forward and just hit him again, watching Gold hit the floor with some satisfaction--watching him scrabble backward as the last of Killian’s strength started to fade.
--
“Whale, Nemo, and Scarlet are with Belle,” Ursula said. “Locksley and Swan with me. Ariel’s gonna stay here and keep an eye on things.”
“No shooting until it seems like the last resort,” Locksley said.
“Always with your rules,” Ursula said. She turned to the group. “If it moves, shoot it.”
Emma bit her lip and nodded.
“Will, how are we on the override sequence?”
“Pretty sure this will pop the airlock doors, if Robin can make the seal on the first try.”
“So you’ve done this before?” Emma asked, trying--and failing--to tamp down her skepticism.
“Oh, hell no.” Ariel laughed.
“I guess they won’t be expecting us, at least,” Emma said.
“Yeah,” Will said. “That’s because they aren’t insane.”
“Shut up, all of you, and focus,” Ursula said as the airlock opened. “Let’s go get the Captain.”
She leveled her rifle and fired down the corridor; as guards jumped out of the path of the oncoming bullets Emma pulled a grenade from her belt, armed it and let it roll. It bounced off the corridor wall before it exploded. Ursula called out, “Second team!” and Robin covered the corridor as Scarlet, Belle, Nemo and Whale moved out of the airlock.
Will made sure to keep Belle covering behind as he joined the assault, letting off four rounds and finishing with a shot directly in the kneecap of an oncoming guard. He banged into the wall as Will watched, head on a swivel, one eye forward and one eye always following Belle.
“Move out?” he asked Ursula.
She nodded, never lowering her rifle.
Emma strode forward, pushing ahead of Ursula and Robin and ignoring their protests as she did so. “Cover from that side,” Robin called behind her to Ursula. “I’ve got this one.” She blasted back two guards and threw herself at the corridor wall as they returned fire while Ursula dropped the rifle and pulled two handguns from cross-strapped shoulder holsters and pivoted into the fray, firing.
“Swan!” she called. “Grab the keycard!”
--
The door slid open and Ursula and Robin filed in, guns out, eyes on Gold.
Killian only had eyes for Emma.
She was pale and bruised. There was a bandage on her wrist and dried blood on her clothes but when she smiled at him it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in the entire universe, shining more brightly than all of the stars in the sky.
The last of his strength faded and he felt Ursula and Robin behind him, pulling him upright.
Keeping him upright.
Will came in, gun drawn, Belle behind him. Nemo followed behind, knives drawn, and went straight for Gold, keeping him on the ground with a look every time the man shifted.
Belle caught his eye and gestured, the thumb of her right hand pointing up and it was when Gold turned to follow Killian’s gaze that he looked, for the first time, truly defeated.
“Belle?”
Killian toed at Gold’s midsection, wishing he had the strength to give it a good, hard kick.
“Belle, you don’t understand.” He was babbling. “I can explain, I--”
Killian toed him again. “Shut up and listen to the lady, crocodile.”
Belle’s voice was ice. “I used to--I thought I saw something in you. Something good. But then I found something of yours.”
Whale strode in as if on cue, holding up a small object; round and golden and more valuable than all of the credits in the Federation Reserve.
“Holy frak,” Emma said. “Is that--”
It was a compass; or at least, it had the likeness of one. Most people--if they’d heard of them at all--assumed they were a myth, part of the story of the all-knowing Federation.
“You told me that all of this was about your son,” Belle continued. “You told me that it wasn’t about power, or gold, or about anything other than trying to move on knowing that you had gotten justice for your son. About giving Henry the kind of life you wish Neal could have had. But all of that was a lie.”
Belle stepped forward, five-foot-nothing of pure rage as she stared down the man she used to love. “You didn’t care about Henry, and you weren’t using this for revenge. You were using it for money. For power. That’s your true love, and you won’t give it up for anything. Not even for me. That’s why you can’t move on--you never have, and you never will.”
“There’s nothing wrong with power,” Gold whispered. “Not when it means that I--that we--can have it all.”
“I just wanted you,” Belle said, and her voice finally broke as she stepped away, back up against the comfort of Will Scarlet and his drawn weapon, putting it back in between herself and her ex-husband. “I tried to be everything for you, and I lost my way. Not anymore.”
“Belle--”
Emma bent down and pistol-whipped him across the face, knocking Gold unconscious.
Their eyes met and Emma took one step forward and then another. Killian wanted to say something, anything, to explain but the second he opened his mouth Emma hit him.
Hard.
The woman had a right hook like a freight train.
Killian swore he could feel Ursula trying not to laugh as he sighed, heavily.
“I can’t believe this was part of your gorram plan,” Emma hissed. “You stuck-up, half-witted, scruffy-looking---”
“Pirate?” Killian raised his eyebrow. “And who’re you calling ‘scruffy-looking’?”
Emma drew herself up, pushed her shoulders back, reached forward and grabbed him; there was nothing gentle in her movements as she kissed him--as he kissed her--and, as abruptly as it had started, it was over.
Except for the look in her eyes--soft. Hopeful. The smile on her face as Killian grunted and looked at Will and said, “Well, you were right about this being a bad idea.”
“Thanks for saying, sir,” Will deadpanned.
--
“You sanguine about the kind of reception we’re apt to receive here, Captain?” Ursula sounded merely curious as she asked.
“Absolutely,” Killian said. “Hopeful.”
“Item of interest--it also means ‘bloody’,” Ursula muttered.
“We’ve done one of those already today. Least we can do is try the other.” Killian winked.
They weren’t on the civilized part of the world, that’s for sure. Low hills, rocks and sagebrush in a deep valley with the high towers of the city glinting in the distance.
The woman waiting for them didn’t belong here; her clothes were too refined, her makeup was too perfect. She was every inch the high-ranking Councillor she appeared to be, a physical embodiment of the Federation’s power, and she was watching him with a small smile on her face.
It was not a pleasant expression. Emma only barely stopped herself from reaching for her gun.
“Killian Jones.”
The bow he gave her was sweeping and dripping with irony. “Regina Mills,” he said. “At last we meet.”
“We’ve met before,” she said.
“You poisoned me.”
That was news to Emma. She looked to Killian but all of his focus was on Regina Mills.
“You were fine.”
“I was unconscious for three days,” he said.
“I admit we didn’t part on the best of terms,” Regina said, “But that’s the past.”
“Air through the engine,” Killian agreed. “Besides, we understand each other, don’t we?”
“That depends on whether or not you brought me what I asked for.”
“As Her Majesty commands, then,” Killian said with another flourish. Behind him, Ursula and Robin carried Gold. He was bound and gagged. His suit jacket was torn. His shoes were scuffed. There was a large bruise rising on his jaw from where Emma had clocked him.
Regina’s eyes lit up with interest but she said, “That’s not what I paid you for.”
“It’s not,” Killian agreed. “But it’s all you’re getting.” He held up the compass so that it glinted in the sunlight.
Regina moved, as if to stretch out her hand for the compass. “So he really had it, then.”
“He did,” Killian said. “Reckon that’s how he’s been listening in all of this time, collecting his leverage. Making his deals. But now you have him, and I’ll be keeping this.”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll take Gold, take the ship, take it up into the black and see if he floats when I push him out of the airlock.”
Regina’s expression soured.
“That was not part of our deal,” she said. “You know, Jones, that I can take back everything I’ve given you. I can up the warrants on your head. On your crew’s heads--”
“But you won’t,” Killian said, gesturing at Gold. “This discharges my debt to you, Regina. And this--” he shook the compass for emphasis “--makes us even. Gold doesn’t have it anymore. You come after me or any of us--ever--and I doubt the boy will take kindly to that. Not when his mother will be sailing with us from now on and leaving the employ of the Federation.”
It was Killian’s turn to smile.
“We both made out on this deal, Regina. Don’t complicate things. Not between us, not when the boy is involved. You take Gold. We’ll keep this. Emma can see her son, and we will continue to work for you when the opportunity suits. Everybody wins.”
Emma moved so that they were shoulder-to-shoulder and took his hand in hers. She squeezed it and felt his hand twist until his fingertips brushed her wrist.
Regina watched them, her expression bemused.
“That’s how it is, then?”
“Depends,” Killian said, making an exaggerated shrug. “She hit me.”
“Knowing you, I’m sure you deserved it,” Regina said with a smirk. “I keep Henry?”
It broke Emma’s heart, but Regina was his best chance.
At least now she knew where he was--would be able to see him, to be a part of his life.
“Yes,” she said. “He stays here, with you.”
A tension she hadn’t realized was there left Regina’s posture then, and Emma felt herself relax in turn.
“We understand each other, also, Regina,” Emma said.
“Thank you, Miss Swan.” Regina gestured.
Emma heard footsteps; she closed her eyes and caught her breath and, finally, turned.
Henry was racing toward her--toward them--and wrapped himself around her with a shriek.
Behind her, Emma heard Killian say, “Are you always this sentimental?”
“You caught me on a good day,” Regina said.
Emma had been beaten, tortured and used--had broken her own heart, given up her job and her life and fallen in with criminals and spies.
But her son was in her arms and the man she loved was by her side.
It wasn’t much.
But it was enough.
A good day, indeed.
-30-
@quirkykayleetam​
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Text
OUAT Fic: For Love And Revenge, PG-13, Killian/Milah
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Killian Jones, Rumpelstiltskin
Word count: 2867
Summary:  "His arm throbs in time with his pulse and his heart aches, and he can’t tell if that’s an emotional pain from losing the love of his life or a real remnant of the Dark One’s attempt to rip out his heart. " Killian tries to come to terms with losing Milah and his hand. Tag to 2x04.
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine.
A/N: Apologies for taking this fic down earlier but I wasn’t fully happy with how I’d written certain things. But it’s back now and with an extra thousand words! (I only intended to tidy up a few parts but oops, I may have gotten carried away.)
For Love And Revenge
“Even demons can be killed,” Killian is aiming for a threatening snarl, but his voice cracks, “I will find a way.”
“Well, good luck living long enough,” replies Rumpelstiltskin, somehow still managing to taunt him even with a hook stuck in his chest, and he disappears in a dark red cloud.
The hook clatters to the deck. Of course it couldn’t have been that easy to kill him, else the Dark One would never have left himself open to such an attack. Killian’s balance feels off as he picks up the hook. Anger and fear can only drive a wounded man so far, and Killian quickly realizes he's reached the end of its capacity to keep him going. And suddenly his legs don't want to hold him up, and he feels like he's going to be sick. He stumbles to the rail of the ship. He doesn't vomit though, and after a brief interval wondering if he will or not, Killian turns and slumps down to the deck, his back against the railing. His first mate, John, is at his side in a moment.
"Get me something to tie off his arm!" calls John, raising Killian's left arm to slow the bleeding.
There's a flurry of movement. Killian's eyes are drawn back to Milah's body. He reaches for her but she’s further away than he thought. He’s suddenly desperate to have her back in his arms, but someone is holding him down and a scream of rage and grief builds in his throat. He doesn’t even have the strength to voice it. A strange coldness has taken over him. He feels as though he’s in a dream. John is tying something tightly around his forearm. Maybe a belt.
"You're gonna be alright, Captain," John says, "But I need you to stay awake, you understand?"
"Aye," murmurs Killian.
He has every intention of staying awake, but when he's pulled to his feet, the world slips away from him.
He dreams of crocodiles and hooks and Milah dying in his arms. He wakes with her name on his lips.
"Easy, now," says a stranger, "Don't be moving around just yet."
Killian recoils, not recognizing where he is, nor the man leaning over him. He’s also none too pleased to realize that he’s shirtless. Lurching sideways, he rolls off the table and he's on his feet in a quick movement. The action awakens all sorts of aches and pains in his body, dizziness suddenly overwhelming, and he reaches for the edge of the table with his left hand to steady himself. There's a brief moment of sickening realization, but it's too late. Killian goes down hard and barely avoids smacking his head on the table on his way. The fall jars his wounded arm, sending shooting pains from his wrist to his elbow and Killian barely holds in a scream.
"Oi, what did I just tell you?" the stranger says, sounding annoyed.
He hauls Killian to his feet and deposits him back on the table with ease, uncaring of the discomfort the further abrupt motion causes to Killian. The stranger is a big man, Killian thinks, and one he could not take in a fight in this condition. So Killian stays where he's put, cradling his burning left arm, hoping that his carefully measured breaths will quell the churning in his stomach. His head is pounding. If Killian didn't know better, he'd almost believe he'd had too much rum the night before. But he does know better, as his mind helpfully supplies him with the vivid memory of Milah going limp in his arms as the Dark One crushed her heart into dust. Killian’s jaw clenches and he shakes his head a little to dispel the image.
"Drink, it will help with the sickness," says the stranger, his voice gentler now that Killian’s being compliant.
Speaking of rum…Killian takes the offered cup and sniffs it cautiously before taking a sip. It’s not rum, of course. It's hot, spicy, somehow feeling both warming and cooling in his mouth. He finishes it quickly and his stomach does feel calmer having done so, so he risks a closer look at his... He was going to call it his hand but it's not anymore, is it? Well, whatever. It's wrapped tightly in thick bandages, blood peeking through faintly, and he can't quite believe that his hand is really gone. He can almost feel his fingers, imagines that if he tried, he could still clench his missing hand into a fist. But obviously when he tries to do that there's no response from his phantom hand. An uncomfortable shiver runs down his spine and Killian swiftly forces his attention outward.
“I assume this is your handiwork?” he asks of the stranger.
"Yes."
“Then I believe you’ve saved my life. You have my thanks.”
Killian's gratitude sounds hollow even to his own ears. The physician only grunts in response and drapes a rather scratchy blanket around Killian. He’s thankful for the security it offers. His shirts are in a blood-stained pile on the floor, except for his leather coat, which the physician has kindly hung on a hook by the door.
“The wound was partially healed already, by magic, I’m told,” the physician explains, “You are a lucky man, Captain. Whoever did this to you wanted you to live.”
There’s a clear question on the man’s face, although he doesn’t voice it and Killian would refuse to answer anyway. A lucky man. He’s the furthest thing from lucky. He’d rather be dead than live a day without Milah. But he had sworn he’d find a way to kill the Dark One, and Killian’s tired misery slowly ignites to anger again. There are footsteps outside the door, and it swings open to reveal John, carrying clean clothes.
"Captain," John says in greeting, and he looks as though he would say something further but thinks better of it.
“If you’re going to ask me when he can leave, the answer is when he can stand up without falling on his face,” the physician declares.
Killian bristles at that.
“I’m fine,” he growls.
And to prove it he forces himself to stand again, though he’s prepared for the dizzy spell this time, and remembers to balance himself with the right hand. But even after the dizziness abates, it’s still a struggle to remain on his feet. Everything hurts. And the physician only raises an eyebrow at Killian’s efforts, clearly not convinced of his ability to leave.
“And without using the table as a crutch?” he asks, even daring to smirk a little.
Killian wants to punch the man for taking that tone with him. Instead he grits his teeth and lets go of the table, clenching his hand into a fist to try to stop it shaking. He doesn't need help. Putting on his shirt and coat proves a little tricky with one hand and his centre of balance refusing to settle, but a warning glance at John keeps his first mate back. He doesn't need help.
“Make sure he gets plenty of rest,” the physician tells John, not Killian, as though John has any say in what his Captain does, “His body has been through a lot. And if he gets feverish--”
"Got it,” snaps Killian, heading for the door before the physician can make any more demands, probably to do with leeches or something.
The walk back to the Jolly Roger is miserable and Killian quickly regrets turning down John’s offer to find him a cart to ride back in. Now he can’t hear John’s words clearly over the rushing sound in his ears that grows louder the further he pushes himself, and eventually John stops trying. Killian’s too focused on walking in a straight line to care what John has to say anyway. His arm throbs in time with his pulse and his heart aches, and he can’t tell if that’s an emotional pain from losing the love of his life or a real remnant of the Dark One’s attempt to rip out his heart. Finally the ship comes into view. Killian steps onto the deck, planting his feet firmly, forcing a smile at his relieved crew. But he knows his body is moments away from betraying him. He mumbles an excuse and quickly heads for his quarters. He barely makes it down the ladder and when he steps off onto the floor, Killian nearly collapses right there. It’s an effort to stagger the last few steps to the bed, and he barely avoids landing on his wounded arm when he flops onto the mattress. He hates being so weak.
Killian's not sure how long it's been before he feels recovered enough to rise. He must have lain there all night because shortly after the fog in his mind dissipates, John brings him food and water, and reminds him that it's time to change the bandages. Killian can’t bring himself to eat. He takes several mouthfuls of rum instead and his eyes dare John to say anything about it. John wisely keeps his mouth shut on the subject.
"Tommy had this made for you," John says instead, and he deposits what appears to be a pile of leather on the table before leaving Killian to his unpleasant task.
Carefully, Killian unwinds the bandages from his… he still catches himself thinking hand. But looking at the swollen, disfigured mess that is the end of his arm for the first time pushes that thought out of his mind. It’s obvious that Rumpelstiltskin’s magical healing had been carefully designed to keep him alive with no regard for anything else. A horrible cold feeling washes over Killian and he can barely hold his right hand steady as he pours some of the rum over his wound to stave off infection, the agony of it nearly more than he can take. There’ll be no leeches around here, just a waste of good rum. It’s a small price to pay. When the pain eases and Killian can see clearly again, he risks standing and examining the item John had left for him. It’s a leather sleeve of sorts designed to fit over the stump of his arm. It has a hole in the centre so Killian can attach a tool of his choice to it, in place of a hand, and straps to hold it firmly in place. He's seen several men with similar fashions. He never dreamed he'd wear one himself.
 Once he’s sure he can walk straight, Killian returns to the deck, wounded arm still tucked close to his side. It feels better though, now protected by the leather. The deck has been well scrubbed clean of his blood and… other things. Milah’s crushed heart, Killian’s cruel mind reminds him, ignoring the attempt he’d made to not think of that. But he slips easily back into his role as Captain, barking out orders and shortly they are heading out to sea. Preparing Milah’s body for her burial is a tricky thing with one hand, not helped by the fact that his one hand won’t stop shaking, but the crew has wisely and unanimously decided to leave him to it.
"I will avenge you, love," Killian murmurs to her, emotion choking his voice, "I promise."
Moments later her body is gone, committed to the sea. Killian straightens his back, clenches his jaw. The need for revenge burns in his soul and gives him strength. He knows exactly what he’s going to use in place of his left hand and where he’s going next. Neverland. He’s going to make sure he lives long enough to follow through with his threat of killing Rumpelstiltskin.
  Neverland's weather is settled, almost too warm but with a cool breeze that offsets the heat in the sun. Killian finds himself wondering if it does ever change, as he sits on a wooden crate on the Jolly Roger's deck and sharpens his hook. It was already quite sharp to begin with, but Killian wants it to be more so. He imagines how it will now slice into the crocodile’s chest even smoother than the last time and he feels a flicker of sadistic satisfaction just at the thought of it, although whether or not this is a weapon he can actually kill the Dark One with remains to be seen.
 Killian’s crew treats him differently now and Killian hates it. They didn’t question his decision to come to Neverland, at least not to his face. But he notices their whispers, their looks of sympathy, and he hates how they always rush to help him pull a rope or lift something heavy before he can even attempt to do it himself. And he really hates how he keeps forgetting that he doesn't have a left hand anymore, although he could swear he still feels it there at the end of his arm, and he'll hold out his "hand" for a crew member to pass him something, and when nothing happens, he will turn to them in confusion and a bit of frustration, and they'll be looking back at him with pity because he's reached out with his hook instead. And he will snatch the item out of their hands with his good hand (his only hand) and shout at them to bloody do something else, anything to stop them looking at him like he's broken. Like he's weak. Like he needs any help at all.
 Several hours later Killian finds himself regretting ever increasing the sharpness of the hook, as he sits at the table in his quarters with blood streaming down his cheek. He'd distractedly gone to scratch an itch there and once again forgot for a moment that his left hand was gone. He'd only remembered when he saw shiny metal coming for his face, but it was too late to stop the motion completely, only to lighten the intended touch. Otherwise the damage would have been a lot worse. With a growl of annoyance at his own stupidity, he grabs a clean kerchief from the drawer and presses it against his face. Killian feels like a damn fool. What will his crew think? They already see him as an invalid. No, Killian thinks, they'll never know the truth of this. Because he's a good liar, he knows, falsehoods always flowing easily from his tongue. The cut doesn't bleed much, thankfully, and when Killian looks in the mirror, he can tell it doesn't need stitching. Another thing to be thankful for because while he's sewed his own wounds before, trying to thread a needle with one hand could prove difficult. And that pulls his thoughts to the times where he'd stumble back onto his ship after a long night, sometimes bleeding, sometimes bruised, usually just tired but whatever his condition Milah would be there to piece him back together. Milah. The memory of her smile and her gentle touch on his skin washes over him like a wave of warmth and peace. But in a moment, Killian's traitorous mind decides to remind him of the last time he saw his love, shattering what little comfort he previously found in his thoughts of Milah. Killian's jaw clenches hard and he turns away from the mirror, taking several large gulps of rum to chase down the lump in his throat.
 When Killian finally returns to the deck, he's radiating such a dark fury that none of the crew dare to ask what happened to his face, so Killian doesn't get to spin a story. Although, the way he's feeling now, he'd likely make them walk the plank just for asking, so it's for the best. Killian’s terrible mood isn’t helped at all by the fact his hand, his missing left hand, keeps seizing up with imaginary cramps at all hours of the night. Killian assumes this secondary torment has been deliberately inflicted on him by Rumpelstiltskin’s magic to further his suffering. As if it’s not already enough that the crocodile killed Milah and crippled Killian. Killian spends many hours lying on his bed in the dark, face pressed hard into his pillow to muffle his groans and whimpers and curses, holding his aching arm close to his chest. It's all too much and Killian feels as though he may bloody well go mad with the anger consuming his soul, a raging fire that will burn him right down until there's nothing left, if he can't get it to simmer down. He stares out to sea, breathing in the salty air deeply, trying to calm himself. The sky and sea meet unhindered at the horizon, except for the spot where the island is. There’s still not a cloud to be seen. The wind feels warm now.
 END
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Marco’s Home for Lost Boys
Read on AO3 - Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5
Tagging:
@lfh1226-linda
Chapter 5: Grief
Summary:
“I’m in. Let’s go get your dad’s stuff back.”
“Em, maybe this is a bad idea.”
“Bullshit, if you can do it, I can do it. Besides, I asked to do something exciting.”
Notes:
Warning for Character Death and also violence.
6 months later
“Come on Ems, one more?”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to get me drunk,” she giggled.
“Only if it’s working” Neal slides the glass toward her.
Her laugh was sloppy and loud, a snort escaping her nose.
“One more!”
She tosses the shot glass back as the warm liquid burns down her throat.
“You are so hot.” His hands are on her hips, pulling her toward him. She drinks in his lips, tasting of whiskey and peanuts.
As if on cue, her phone begins buzzing on the table beside them.
“You probably shouldn’t answer that in your condition, Ems.”
“Hello Captain!” She giggles into the phone.
“Swan, you need to come home.”
“Well, I’m quite busy right now sir…”
“Emma...”
“And honestly I don’t feel like coming home so I don’t quite think I…”
“Emma, it’s Marco. He had a heart attack. They did everything they could, but…”
Emma feels like the whole world has started humming in her ears, her knees buckle under her, phone slipping from her hand onto the table.
She can’t comprehend what Neal is saying on the phone to Killian before he hangs up and picks her up off the floor.
“Ems, Jones is going to come pick you up. Lets just sit on the couch until he gets here. I’ll go get you some water.”
This can’t be happening. Marco can’t be dead. Not her Papa.
She’s an orphan again.
~
Neal opens the front door on the second knock and he immediately smells the whiskey on the boy’s breath. Killian pushes past him to find Emma sitting on the couch, staring at her feet, a glass in her hand.
He grabs the glass and sniffs it to find it is water, but she smells like she rolled in a barrel of booze.
“Underage drinking? Bad form, Cassidy.” He scowls at Neal standing in the doorway.
“Save the lecture Jones, we were just having a good time.”
He looks down at Emma, “Swan, you alright? Can you walk? We gotta go.”
She stares straight ahead, and he kneels so that his eyes meet hers. “Hey,” her eyes meet his. “let’s go home ok?”
She blinks, recognizing him for the first time since he walked into the room.
“He’s gone.” She whispers and his heart breaks for the second time that evening.
“I know, love. Can you stand?” His hands cup her elbows as he stands and pulls her with him. She wobbles on her legs and leans into his chest.
“Seems like a real good time you two were having.” He peers over at Neal. “We’ll talk about this another time.”
He ushers Emma outside and opens the door to David’s truck, helping her into the seat.
Climbing into the truck himself he sighs and looks over at her. “I’ll try and cover with your brothers as best I can, but you’re gonna need to shower when you get home to wash the smell of alcohol off.”
~
The hot water numbed her face, standing under the stream in the shower. Killian had moved her quickly through the house and past her brothers before they even got the chance to console her or realize that she was anything besides utterly broken with grief.
The next few days went by in a blur.
The house was buzzing with activity with Arthur and August returning from college for the funeral. Robin shut down his bar for the week to be at home and help with the arrangements.
It was weird having so many people at home. Even though she knew it was only temporary.
Soon Arthur and August would go back to Boston and Seattle, Robin would go back to working 7 days a week at the “The Sleeping Lion”, David was on his way to building a life with Mary Margaret and she was sure overheard the two of them whispering about him moving out in the near future.
Killian was hardly around anymore either. He began working as a Boat Captain on the “Jolly Roger”, a tourist attraction where you got to sail with pirates on a real pirate ship, guyliner and leather included. But even when he wasn’t working, he was always out doing “something”.
It would just be Will and her. They had just started their senior year in high school. She was a couple months to her 17th birthday. What was she going to do now as everyone was leaving her?
She did everything she could during those few days to ignore the shouting in her brain. She packed up boxes in her father’s room, cooked dinner for her brothers, cleaned up the messes they left behind while they ran here and there trying to prepare for their father’s funeral.
She did everything, except cry. No matter what she did, the tears wouldn’t come.
Even as she stood in front of her Papa’s gravestone, rain coming down and bouncing off the freshly moved ground, David’s arm wrapped tightly around her, she found no tears.
Once they returned home that evening, she was starting to feel like she was suffocating. She wanted to yell at the next person who apologized for her loss and asked her how she was doing.
I’m fine.
“Swan, you should eat something.”
“I ate.”
“Swan.” She looked up into his narrowed blue orbs. “I happen to know you have not eaten anything since breakfast, and that was a piece of toast.”
“Geez, are you keeping a tracker or something? I’m sure I ate today.” She tried to push past him, but he held firm and his hand wrapped around her arm.
“Emma, I know there is a lot going on in that pretty little head of yours, but you need food if you wish to remain on your feet.”
She reached over and grabbed a cracker and cheese off the tray in front of them and shoved it in her mouth. “Happy now?”
He rolled his eyes but allowed her to move past him toward her room, slamming the door behind her.
Run.
E. You busy? I need a drink!
She clicked her fingernails on her phone waiting for the response which came quickly.
N: Come on over.
Emma grabbed her jacket, lifted the window upward and jumped to the ground outside. She was across town in her yellow bug in no time and running up the stairs to Neal’s home.
After the second knock on the door, it opened with Neal’s father standing in the frame.
“Emma, I’m so very sorry about your father.”
Emma smiled weakly. “Um thanks, Mr. Gold.”
“Please come in, my son said you would be stopping by.”
Neal appeared behind him and Emma stepped into the house.
“Please ensure you and Ms. Swan are responsible.” He nodded at his son and pulled on his jacket. “I apologize but I have business to attend to and cannot stay to entertain.”
“Oh well, it was nice seeing you.”
When the door closed, she turned toward Neal. “Um is he cool with me being here while he’s gone?”
Neal laughed. “Yeah, he even gave me a nice bottle of whiskey for us to share.”
“Woah.”
“Yeah, he can be cool sometimes. So, what do you say we crack this thing open?”
Emma was finally feeling a bit less claustrophobic being in Neal’s house. No one to mill about or force food upon her. In fact, Neal hadn’t even asked her how she was doing.
She grabbed the glass from his hand and quickly tipped her head back, feeling the warmth hit her stomach immediately. She grabbed the glass and poured a second shot.
“Woah, not messing around.”
“I just need to drink and not have people ask me how I am.” She sighed.
“Ah feeling suffocated then?”
“How do people think I’m doing?” She rolls her eyes. “Oh, I’m just fine, I’m great, who needs a father anyhow, I’ve done it without one before.” She parroted.
“Woah, Emma.”
“Don’t, Neal. I don’t need someone to comfort me. Just someone to pour the damn drinks.”
“I can do a lot more than pour your drinks.” His hand lands on her thigh.
She stands up and starts pacing the room, grabbing the bottle of whiskey and taking a swig. “I want to do something exciting.”
“Well, I was just trying to do something exciting but you’re now over there and I’m still sitting here.”
“Not sexual. Exciting, dangerous. Something that reminds you that you are alive.”
“Ok I think you’ve had enough to drink.” He tries to take the bottle, but Emma yanks it away from him.
“I’m serious. I just want to feel like I’m still here.”
“Well, I do have to do an errand tonight that might fit in that category.”
“Errand? How does that even fit in the category of exciting.”
“Well, it’s not exactly a… shall we say legal errand.”
Emma sits down next to him wide eyed. “Neal what are you talking about?”
“Never mind, I shouldn’t have said anything.”
She takes another long drink of the whiskey. Why would Neal be doing something illegal?
“What exactly is this errand for?”
“Ems, I shouldn’t talk about it.”
“No, I want to know. Maybe I’m interested.”
“That’s the thing Em, you are not the type to be interested in this sort of thing.”
“Hey, I can be the type.”
“That’s the whiskey speaking.” He pauses. “Look, it’s not a big deal, I just have to pick something up that was taken from my dad.”
She stares at him. “Oh my God someone stole something from the pawn shop?”
He nods. “Uh yeah, something like that. And my dad asked me to get it back for him.”
“Well, if it belongs to your dad, then whoever took it should just give it back.”
“Exactly but well, they don’t actually want to give it back, so I have to kind of…” He looks at his feet, as if he doesn’t want to proceed. “I gotta go steal it, Em.”
Shit.
Her phone buzzes and she looks to see that she has missed a lot of messages.
K: Everyone is going to bed.
Will: Are you going to sleep all the bloody time now?
K: Are you alright in there?
David: I know you are taking this hard Princess but know that we are here when you want to talk.
Will: I was going to come talk to you, but Killian is being an arse and told me to leave you alone. Just checking to see how you are doing. I’ll talk to you in the morning.
K: I guess you aren’t coming out of your room anytime soon so...
K: Goodnight, Swan!
She takes another long swig. “I’m in. Let’s go get your dad’s stuff back.”
“Em, maybe this is a bad idea.”
“Bullshit, if you can do it, I can do it. Besides, I asked to do something exciting.”
“Ok but, you can’t tell anyone we did this ok?”
“Well duh.” She jumps off the couch and puts the whiskey down. “So, do we wear all black or?”
He laughs, digging into a small cabinet and putting something in his jacket pocket. “Nah what you are wearing is fine.”
She frowns. “Oh bummer.”
He grabs a black beanie from the cabinet and tosses it to her. “Fine, wear this so your hair doesn’t stand out so brightly. It can be your disguise.”
She giggles and pulls the beanie on, not sure exactly what the hell she is getting into. But she needs this. She needs to feel like this isn’t the end of her. That she is still breathing, and life goes on.
~
He can’t stop tossing and turning in his bed. His mind won’t turn off. It’s been a whirlwind for the last week since their father had passed. Everyone had stayed busy to ensure that all the tasks were completed.
Grief was tricky.
Everyone had a way of coping with it. Robin and Arthur had thrown themselves into work by getting all the details and chores done, August was slowly drowning himself in a bottle, David chose to drown in love by spending every moment with his girlfriend, and Will had cried until there was nothing left. He had been taking it hard after having found his father on the floor of the kitchen.
For Emma, she seemed to choose avoidance. He had barely seen the girl cry since their father’s passing.
Killian found that for him, grief was about figuring out your next move. Where it would take you from that exact moment in time.
And his next move was going to take money and a fair share of it if he was going to get his own place with Milah and ever have hopes of buying that ship.
He was already working 5 times a week at the harbor as a bloody pirate captain on the “Jolly Roger”. He got to wear some authentic leather pirate gear and he had to admit he looked dashing in the guyliner. But the job wasn’t going to get him the ship he needed to get out of here.
So, he got desperate.
He knew working as bag man on the side for Gold wasn’t exactly a hero move. Tossing his lot in with Gold was suicide to many who had done so before him. But Gold paid him double what he was making on the Jolly and offered him an extra bonus a few times to muscle some blokes who had refused to pay what they owed Gold. Gold was a private man, so his services had stayed out of the public eye which was exactly how Killian had wanted it.
Besides, as soon as he had the money he needed, he was done with Gold. He wasn’t proud of what he was doing, but it was a means to an end. And he would leave this town as soon as he had the money he needed anyway.
Everything he had planned was moving along except for one piece.
Emma.
Emma had gotten herself involved with Gold’s son, Neal.
Killian needed to make sure she got away from him before he left town. Neal was trouble. He was cocky, reckless, and selfish. Traits that were only going to get Emma hurt.
But he didn’t know how to tell Emma the truth about Neal without exposing himself to his own lies.
He looked over at the clock, 1:15am.
He groaned and pushed his covers off, sitting up on the bed and rubbing his eyes.
Maybe he could drown himself with that bottle for a little bit. Maybe it would allow him to find sleep.
Tugging on his boxers, he quietly padded through the house and opened the cupboard door, pulling the bottle of rum from the shelf.
“Can’t sleep either?”
Killian almost dropped the bottle to the ground at the sound of David’s voice.
“Geez, mate, not a good idea to sneak up on a man in the dark.” He stepped forward to see David sitting in a chair by the fireplace, a drink in his hand.
“Guess we had the same idea.” He held up his glass, the dark amber liquid swirling at the bottom.
“Aye.” Killian took the seat opposite with his own glass in hand, taking a sip of the liquid.
“Can’t believe he’s gone.” He sighed.
“What will become of this place?” David continued. “Everyone will be graduated adults next year.”
Killian’s raised his brow. “You really think Will is going to graduate?”
David laughed. “We’ll get him there.”
“Aye.” He nodded and then took another drink.
“We should probably talk about that though. You know, Will and Emma. They are both almost 17. Old enough that they will let them still live here, but I guess one of us will need to be their guardian until they graduate.”
“Hadn’t thought of that, but I haven’t the means to move out yet anyway.”
“Yeah, I was actually going to talk to everyone about this before Marco passed but,” He paused. “I had planned to move out in a month. I’m going to start working at the station for Sheriff Graham and they offered me a place close by in town.”
“Oh, wow that’s great news, Dave.”
“It was. But now.”
“No, you should still stay on your plan. Besides, I know you and Mary Margaret would love some privacy now and then.”
“Well, there is that.” He smirked.
“I’m happy for you, mate. You deserve happiness.”
“So, do you brother.”
He swirled his glass before taking another sip. “I’m a pirate captain five days a week, what more could I ask for?”
David stood to refill his glass. “You make a good point there…” he paused at the window. “Did Emma go out?”
“No, she’s where I left her hours ago, brooding in her room.”
“No, she’s not.” He turned, gesturing to the window. “Bug’s gone.”
~
This was the dumbest idea she had ever had.
Emma’s hands were numb from standing in the cold. Neal was hunched over the door, with small tools sticking into the lock as he jiggled them, but nothing was opening the door.
“Do you even know what you are doing?”
“Of course, I do, but I can’t do it with you yammering in my ear.”
“It’s just that you’ve been at this for a while and the door is still closed. I thought the point of this mission was for us to get inside.”
“Ok smart ass, you think you can better?”
She laughed. “Um no. I mean. I’ve never broken into anything in my life.” She stared at the tools sticking out of the lock.
Live a little Emma.
“Ok fine, move over.” She shoved his hands away from the tools. “So, what am I supposed to do?”
“I was joking.”
“Just tell me what to do.”
“Ok that wrench there, you push that in. Then take the pick, you need to move the pins around until they click into place and you can open the door.”
Emma pushed with her hands and could feel the pins moving around like a puzzle in her head. She closed her eyes and concentrated. She felt lost in her thoughts when she felt the door push.
“Ems, you did it, you’re a natural.” He beamed.
“Great, I have a future in criminal behavior.”
He pulled her up to him and kissed her before tugging her into the dark of the building.
“Just stay here ok. I’ll be right back.”
“Wait Neal, you aren’t just going to leave me here are you?”
“I’ll be right back.” He disappeared into the black and Emma stood silently in the corner of the shop they were in.
Suddenly she heard voices coming from the direction Neal went.
“Neal?” she whispered.
She stepped forward into the dark. “Neal?”
Suddenly she heard his voice and saw him running toward her, “Run Emma, Run.”
Emma turned to leave but felt something grab her from behind. She kicked backward, making contact with whatever had grabbed her, knocking them backwards, the shimmer of something long and silver in the man’s hands.
Neal ran past her, grabbing the door and yanking it open. “Emma let’s go.”
She tripped as she tried to run to the door, falling into something that caused her to land on her knees. She knew she would have bruises tomorrow. Dragging herself up, she stumbled forward in the dark before hands grabbed her ankles and she fell forward again. “Neal! Help!”
“You can’t steal from me.” She heard a gruff voice coming from the man holding her ankle and she kicked at his hand with her free foot. It was enough to free herself and she clamored to her knees and onto her feet to grab the door handle, yanking it open.
Just as she stepped into the alley, she felt a pain in her side, a burning sting that made her scream out in pain. She shoved as hard as she could with her hands at the man standing behind her, a long silver knife falling to the ground as his back hit the concrete wall behind him.
Run Emma, Run!
She didn’t look back; she didn’t stop running until she got to the road. She looked around and realized she was completely alone. No man trying to grab her. And definitely no sign of Neal.
She knew she needed hide. To get out of the open. She looked around until she got her bearings and headed toward where she had parked her car on the back street.
She expected to find Neal at the car, but he was gone.
He left me.
She pulled the door open and locked the door behind her, looking around to make sure no one had followed her.
She breathed heavily, her hand clutching her side which was still burning. When she pulled back her hand, all she saw was blood.
And then everything went black.
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