#anyways ignore my life story summed up and WRITE THOSE FICS PLEASE

[imsociallyanxiousgetoverit]

THERES NO FANFICTION FOR THIS BED WE MADE‽‽

[prose-for-hire]

So wrong it’s right

Part 2 // Part 3

Pairing: Angel x vamp!reader

Request: (Sorry if I make a mistake, English is my second language) Will you make a story with a somewhat villain reader (but shes not exactly evil) that keeps helping Angel out because she likes him and in the start he wont trust her but one day they kiss and Angel becomes confused about how he feels? I hope that makes sense. If I didn’t explain it well please don't feel you need to write it you can ignore this.

Requested by: Anon

Warning: Violence/fighting. Swearing.

A/N: This is the kind of fic I LOVE to write. I enjoyed myself with this one !! 💜

You weren’t well-liked in LA. The ‘good guys’ hated you, trying to stake you at any second and the ‘bad guys’ despised you. Both felt this for the way that you made decisions based on how you felt. No allegiance to good or evil. No atonement or evil plotting. You served neither the powers or dark forces. This was a fluid and extremely ambiguous way to live, which brought suspicion with you wherever you went. But you were nothing if not authentic to your beliefs. You just weren’t really sure what those beliefs were yet.

In any case, you didn’t much care for world domination nor did you hang out in particularly damp underground hovels that you wouldn’t even bury your dog in, let alone spend precious years of your un-life.

LA had a certain draw to you, it was a hub. A beating heart of life that helped you thrive in a way you had only dreamed of when you really were alive. But most importantly, it wasn’t a backwater little town. The type that always seemed to harbour Hellmouths. They seemed a little boring to you anyway.

Yeah, it holds all the supernatural power hotspots you could wish for, but at what cost? Everyone knew everyone’s business and there was such a large amount of demons concentrated in one area it was hard to navigate without bumping into several ex-lovers. Not to mention there was a higher chance of a Slayer on your back.

Now, just because you weren’t ‘evil’, that wasn’t to say you lived in the light. For one, you couldn’t. You would die… again. But also, you weren’t exactly chafing at the bit to do as the powers said. They couldn’t simultaneously damn you to hell when you got dusted whilst enticing you with some long-winded and ultimately unnecessary prophecy that gave you the one thing you were scared of. Hope.

You didn’t have a soul, and you didn’t care for gaining one. Not through a curse and even less through fighting for one yourself. This is why one vampire didn’t like you. He didn’t trust you and definitely never cut you a break.

The fact was, he barely looked your way. Unless you were stood in his path. And you had, a few times. He was convinced you had some ulterior motive but had little time for you until you turned into a bigger threat.

That was, up until the last few months. You had started to catch his attention more and more. You had been fighting, again. In the back room of some seedy bar. Trading blows, neither of you holding back. The real threat long since dusted. It was just gone three in the morning, a time you liked to be home. Just in case of a freak early sunrise (you had heard horrible things of whole towns of vampires wiped out suddenly).

You were fighting, hard. He never left it. He just couldn’t walk away. You were after the same stupid vampire. Yes, you had been after him because he owed you a large sum of money and around five Siamese cats, but the end was the same. You twisted from his firm grasp, throwing him over your head. He landed but didn’t stay down. He ran at you, pushing you back and slamming you against the door. Almost through it. He grabbed a stake and flipped it up in the air before expertly catching it, looking back in your eyes.

There was almost a flicker of danger. A flicker of all the stories you had heard of Angelus. There was something there, some kind of feeling and it got you excited. Up until this point, his face had been pretty unmoving every time you saw him. The stake dug into your chest, directly over your unbeating heart. You couldn’t help but enjoy the way his eyes scanned your face. Moving from your lips to your eyes and back again. He was so close you could just lean in and… no. Eye on the prize, you tell yourself. You would settle for a quip charged with at least a little sexual tension. On your end, at least.

“You gonna keep waving that thing around or are you going to actually do something with it?” You bite, breathing heavily a smile on your face. You didn’t need to breathe but it was still a habit.

“Why’re you here, huh? Why are you always around when something bad happens?”

“I could ask you the same thing. Now I’m never getting those fucking Siamese” You muttered as he scowled at you. You were going to threaten him one more time before staking him. He rolled his eyes, you were worse than spike. At least he had a soul. Wanted one. You were content with your lot and it bugged him to no end.

“You know, I think I might enjoy this” Angel said stoically.

“Watch out, you don’t want to get too happy” You teased with a smile, everyone knew about Angel – word travels fast even here, “Or maybe you do. You might be more fun, to be honest”

These was the last words he expected to hear from you, you were younger than him by a mile. He was used to vampires pretty easily going down. He moved his arm back, directing the wooden stake straight for your heart. In the same second, you changed into your vamp face and propelled your head forwards. Your hand twisted his wrist trying to knock the stake from his hand as you propelled your ridged forehead towards him. Headbutting him with all of your strength.

The stake pierced your skin, but luckily (or unluckily it still hurt like anything) it was stabbed into your left arm which made you yelp. You yelped almost as much as Angel in his surprise as his nose started to bleed. It was enough to stun him, letting you run off with the stake still sticking out of your arm as you took a short cut to your destination.

Angel walked back to the hotel slowly, pinching his nose and wiping the blood on his sleeve. He took the long route back, not wanting to have to tell the others that he had lost in a fight with a vampire who was probably half his age. When he returned Cordelia rushed over to him, helping him to sit down. The entire team was there, waiting up for him. Fantastic, now he would have to tell them.

“Oh, uh, Angel?” Fred asked softly, “This was left for you – on your desk”

He turned and there it was. The stake that had been embedded in your arm the last he saw you. You must have travelled fast to get there before he did. He took it as an act of aggression, especially when he read the note attached.

‘Until we meet again, sweet Angel’

“Is this your slayer friend?” Fred asked, looking down at the floor. She had taken somewhat of a shine to Angel and may have been a little jealous. She had just learned what a slayer was.

“She’s a little more dramatic, a little less with the subtle” Cordelia stated, knowing for sure that the person that brought it was not Buffy. Not at all.

“Yes, I recall the young woman is about as subtle as a brick” Wes chuckled softly, reminiscing over his brief stint as a watcher.

“No. it wasn’t her” Angel confirmed, turning and scowling, “Wes, I need everything you can find on a vamp. Name’s y/n”

“Y/n? Are you sure it is wise to, um, shake the hornets nest so to speak. They’ve done little to actively harm-” Wesley said quickly. A slightly sheepish look on his face. You had met him and helped him out several times. You often crossed paths late night at the occult book store. You weren’t afraid of losing your credibility over a little light reading.

Your intelligence was often what gave you the upper hand over many demons you came up against. Wesley was strangely fond of you, although he knew from word on the street you could be mean if something was in the way of what you wanted. He was pleasant enough although spending too long with him gave you an Englishman-induced headache. He does prattle on so. And, that phrase had been unfortunately transferred into your brain from listening to him for too long.

“Apart from, that they’re a vampire who brutally kills to eat and always seems to be in every bad situation we’ve been in recently” Angel snapped, “I want everything. By tomorrow night”

“What are you going to do?”

“Kill them”

It had been several more months and Angel had seen you several times in that period. He had yet to make good on his promise. The tension mounted, peaking every time you became close. Your back and forth riling you up, making you begin to pine for his attention.

He had noted that you had common goals, evil tended to get mowed down in your wake. Which, he couldn’t exactly complain about except that your personality was simultaneously infuriating and intriguing.

But he maintained that he didn’t like you. The way you danced through life, with no guilt. Very little self-reflection. You wouldn’t join him and that was enough, in his eyes for you to be against him.

This evening finds you on the hunt for a backstreet dealer, one that could find you an item that was particularly hard to find. Especially now Angel had a snitch on the inside, the deliveries were starting to slow. Dust couldn’t drive trucks.

You arrived at the meeting place, a dingy alleyway despite you specifically asking to meet somewhere that didn’t smell like something had died there. You had a very sensitive sense of smell.

“You got the stuff?” You asked, gesturing with your head for the demon to open the briefcase. But he snatched it from your grasp and the boss stepped from the shadows. This meant something more sinister.

“You helped him. We saw you” The scaly man with an impressively tailored suit accused.

“What?”

“Angel” He confirmed. Bad things happened to people who didn’t side with the boss. You knew this.

“I don’t pick allegiances, I told you. I’m just me” You assured them, eyes on the briefcase.

“You’re with us or you’re with him. Choose.”

“Fine.” You shrugged, the man nodded approvingly. It had been easier than he thought.

“Good, glad that you’re-” You spun into a kick, hitting his jaw which made him shut up. You hated people who gave you an ultimatum. You, for this very moment only, were on Angel’s side. Fists flying, feet connecting with hard bodies. You fought against them, hard.

More of them started to turn up. As if there had been a call. They started to surround you. You were strong, but not that strong. Your un-life flashed before your eyes. There was so much you had left to do. I mean, you had never even been to a virgin sacrifice. Never properly feasted on St Vigeous. You hadn’t even found your anti-soulmate.

You were almost ready to give up. And then he turned up. Your guardian angel.

Angel assessed the fight, realising you had been caught up. Not realising why it broke out. You fought beside each other, but traded insults with your ally. You found yourself waiting for these interactions with him. It made you smirk. This was the way you flirted.

You enjoyed this back and forth. He was starting to make you feel alive again. Begin to… hope.

The fight was finished and now all you both were was surrounded by dust. You took a breath. In name, not in action, recovering from the fight.

But he grabbed you by your shoulders, you had taken your guard down. He slammed you into the brick wall. The contact almost made you shiver as you smiled wide. You opened your mouth to speak, he was expecting it and spoke first.

“Don’t” He warned, frustrated at the way your eyes danced despite his threat.

“I’ve been waiting for this for months” You smirked, leaning closer to his face. There was barely an inch between you.

“Huh. Your death?”

“We’re already dead, baby, I’m looking more for the spice of life” You teased before leaning in and finally catching your lips with his. This had been all you had been thinking since you had first met him. The tension had reached its crescendo and you had to act.

It was an urgent kiss, you were willing him to reciprocate. His action beforehand made the adrenaline pump around your body harder. Want him more. There was danger harboured deep below the soul he cared for so deeply and it called to you like a moth to a flame.

You wanted him. You enjoyed every side you had seen so far. You didn’t understand why he was so reluctant to admit the tension in the air when you were around each other.

His lips didn’t move at first for those agonising moments. And then they did. All at once. His lips moving and fiery against yours, now fighting you for dominance. You tasted so good to him. A hand gripping your upper arm tightly with the other sliding up the curvature of your neck.

You slid your hands between the fabric of his shirt and his leather jacket, grasping at him. Your fingers snaked around him, exploring unchartered territory. He felt so good, you wanted him closer.

You found yourself almost preferring the feel of this more amiable touch to the harsh blows you had exchanged previously. He pressed you further into the wall, wanting more.

But all too quickly, his lips started to falter and you felt him start to pull away. He started to think too much into it. Comprehending the implications. You felt too good to him. You were a distraction, a sinful figure that strayed him from the power’s path. You almost whined as he pulled himself from where he had been pressed flush against you. He had to fight himself to remove his hands from you.

Your hands slid sadly from where they had been exploring his lean form. You felt yourself pouting slightly, which is a feat when you have fangs like you did.

His face had changed during your kiss, as had yours. Your vampire forms released as the tension did. Your more animalistic forms finding each other so appealing. The kiss a revelation, in some sense a curse. But again, he was used to that.

He pulled back, his face the picture of shock. It was the most emotion he had allowed you to see. So many contradictory emotions flashing behind his eyes. It had felt wrong, but oh so right to kiss you that way. He wanted more. He wanted to get as far away from you as possible.

You watched him in his turmoil, not able to hide the way you enjoyed seeing his face this way. You reached with your hand to trail along the distinctive bumps of his forehead. You couldn’t help it, you had suddenly begun to soften for him. Against your will. You wanted him to want you deeper than you had realised.

He realised that his vampire face was showing. He winced away from you, and you scanned over his face. He switched back immediately. Masking it.

He was ashamed. You frowned, your own vamp face still there. You embraced all that you were. You scanned his face, trying to show him that he could be himself with you. But he didn’t read that from your face.

He stepped back, all contact with him now gone. His eyes still trapped in yours for a moment. Your back was still pressed against the rough brick, your arm still outstretched for him.

But he just ran, jacket whipping around him as he kicked up his dust on way out of the alleyway. As if a magician through a puff of smoke, he was gone.

You eventually moved yourself from the wall, leaning to take the briefcase. You shrugged, dusting it off from the ash that had been left from the fight.

You walked slowly with your items, thoughts beginning to spin. Finding yourself lacking something deep inside that you had not realised you had been missing for so long.

[mooswords]

It’s all coming back

Pairing: semi eita x reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Tags: war au, minor character death (mentioned), angst

Ramblings: i think ive peaked with this fic. i also cried multiple times writing this but like... thats nothing new sklajsdbk. thank you to lyra for beta-ing and yelling about this with me every step of the way <3

---

The summer breeze sweeps through the valley, warm air bringing little relief from the afternoon sun. You can feel the sweat dripping in familiar discomfort down your back as you pull at the weeds invading your struggling potato crop. It’s mind-numbing work, but it has to be done. Anyway, you’re almost-

Your name is yelled, loud and panicked. Tsutomu’s stumbling form is running towards you. 

“There’s a man,” he pants. “There’s a man coming up the hill.”

“Is it Tadashi?”

“I don’t think it’s him. He-” Tsutomu throws a look over his shoulder, like he can see through the house and fences to remind himself what this man looks like. “He’s got a sword I think.”

“A soldier?” you breathe, the stone in your stomach dropping lower. Your shoulder aches. It’s still healing, a lingering reminder that soldiers are nothing but bad news. It’s been nearly a year since the war ended, but they like to ignore that fact. 

Through the summer haze, you can see a blurry figure trudging up the road winding up to the house. Even at this distance, you can tell it’s definitely not Tadashi.

“Kei and Hikota are further out," you tell him, eyes still set on the figure. "Go find them and stay in the barn together until I come and get you, OK?”

“But-”

“Tsutomu. Go.”

The mystery figure is nearly at the house by the time you make it out the front door, shotgun in hand. Now you're closer you can see the ash-grey hair, the sword swinging at his hip. At this distance, you can also see the nervous smile on his face. Reluctantly, you lean the shotgun against the door jam.

He stops a few respectful paces away, and you let your eyes flit over him scornfully. “You’ve got guts, showing up here again.”

Semi winces. He knew not to expect a warm welcome, especially with how he left, but he hadn’t expected this. You don’t look the same as he remembers - more worn, more beaten down by the ebb and flow of life than he had hoped. There is a new assertiveness that you wear, still a few sizes too big for you to fill out properly but nonetheless folding strong and confident across your shoulders. It speaks to many years alone, being forced to grow up too quickly. 

He supposes that’s partially his fault though.

“What do you want?” you ask, chin tilted up. Defiant as always. He’s glad that hasn’t changed.

“I’m… the war’s over. I came home.”

“Home?” You sound incredulous, a mocking edge to your voice.

“Yes,” Semi says, uncertainty beginning to cloud his words. “To you.”

You scoff. It seems the years have gifted you with a certain bitterness; he can not fault you for it, but it still grates at his rose-tinted memories. You were never a particularly joyful child - joy wasn’t a luxury people like you and he could afford - but there was a hope he remembered, a desperate spark that you’d imbue into the stories you’d tell the younger kids. The woman in front of him today deals only in blunt, unsavoury realities.

“Home to me,” you repeat, nodding slowly. Your tone is less than impressed. “Tell me-” you cock your head, contempt in every move, “since when do you leave your home without even a goodbye?”

You can see the confusion in the furrow of his brow. How could he not know? 

“I’m sorry, I-” he shifts, looking less like a war-hardened soldier and more like the lanky 17-year-old you knew all those years ago. “I wasn't brave enough.”

“And yet you were brave enough to go fight in a war that's stretched on for years.” You bite your tongue, frustration welling up because you want to hug him forever but you also can’t let yourself slip up. He’s a soldier. He left. You have the younger kids to think about too, and you aren’t going to let him come in and destroy this family you have fought tooth and nail for. 

“You seem like you’re doing OK now.”

“Yeah, now,” you bite back. “I’m doing OK now because I survived long enough to get out of the city walls. Barely. You can’t just waltz back in here like you never left.”

“I had to go, they needed me.”

“They needed you?! What about Tsutomu?” 

He looks sheepish at that. Maybe you're finally getting through to him.

“He had you?” he tries.

Then again, how could he know? He may have seen horrors fighting for six long years, but Semi left before the city really began to fall apart. You have survived your own nightmares. Humanity is capable of more atrocities than just war. 

“Of course he had me, I wasn't going to abandon him after his own brother did.” It's a low blow, but you can't find it in yourself to care. “But that doesn’t erase the fact I was one girl! I was struggling to feed my own siblings let alone yours! Do you think young girls can find work in the city? Do you think I could protect all of the kids?” 

You’re shaking now, animated in your fury, and the words are pouring out faster and more uncontrolled than you had imagined. You have had six years to think of what you would say to Semi if he ever came home, but right now you can't remember a word of the carefully scathing speeches you had drafted in those long nights. This is far less elegant, nothing more than the messy sum of repressed emotions and long-forgotten promises.

“You left! When I needed you! You left me alone, just to-” you angrily smear your tears, jaw clenching, “-to go fight in some stupid war they already had thousands of men to fight.”

“You had the others, and I couldn’t just-”

The door behind you creaks.

“Go back to your siblings, Kei,” you say, not turning.

Semi’s eyes are pulled to the proud arch of a young boy’s head. For someone with dirt smeared across his cheek and a sun-bleached shirt, the kid holds himself with something akin to royal grace. Semi would be impressed if he didn’t recognise the faux bravado as the carefully cultivated shield it is. He used to wear the same brand of armour.

“You sure?” the boy asks, a well-worn aloofness in his tone that that shouldn’t belong to someone still so young. If life hasn’t been kind to you, it has been rougher for this kid.

“I’m sure.” You turn, finally, and Semi catches the edge of your smile. He wonders if it still pulls higher on one side like it used to. He wonders if you still remember that secret handshake you made him learn all those years ago, if you still love the sunflowers that used to grow in the upper circles of the city, if you still get that faraway look in your eye when you get lost in the labyrinth of your own mind.

It’s jarring, Semi thinks as he watches the final nasty look thrown his way before the boy disappears back into the doorway. The image these memories paint is so out of sync with the woman he sees before him now, and no amount of reminiscing will bring them back together.

“So… who’s he?”

Impassiveness slides back over your face, the momentary softness slipping out of sight. “His family has also been torn away by this war. We stick together because we have no one else. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Come on, please,” Semi starts. This is not how he expected this reunion to go. He takes a tentative step forward. “I know you’re angry, but I truly never meant to hurt you. I just wanted to keep you and the kids safe.”

You don’t shake off his careful hand on your shoulder; you’re not sure you could. The fight is draining from your body, and as the anger recedes, you start to see him come into focus. The dusty bandage wrapped around his hand, the lines running deep around his eyes. Maybe you had survived your own nightmares, but you were a fool to think that made his any lighter.

“I’m sorry,” he says, pressing closer. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen to you, but I’d do it again. I’m sorry I had to leave you and the kids, but I don’t regret going to fight.”

“And I don’t hate you for wanting to fight,” you relent, finally meeting his eyes. They’re sadder now, yet he can’t help feel relieved that the animosity has drained away. 

You shrug, pained smile stuck awkwardly on your face. “But you still left us.”

Somehow, the lack of anger makes your words cut deeper. They have lost their accusing edge, replaced with a blunt resignation that makes his heartache. There’s resentment rallying in his stomach against your disappointment, and it mixes unpleasantly with the hope he had walked up to you with. 

“I said I’m sorry, didn’t I?” He can hear the annoyance leaking through, and from the line of tension that returns to your shoulders, so do you.

There’s a long moment, full of memories and chances long lost to history, where all you can feel is the inevitable beginnings of a new battle. The lamentable reality is that you were never taught how to back down from a challenge; to do so would just send you reeling back down to the bottom of the hard-won steps you had already taken. But haven’t you fought enough? Haven’t you fought your past enough, must you now fight him too? 

“You can say sorry all you like, it doesn’t change the past.” Your voice comes out more resigned, less annoyed than you had wanted. 

“Why are you so set on the past?” he demands, frustration tearing through the thin blanket of peace that had settled. “I’m here now, trying to make amends and you-”

“I don’t care what’s happening now, I want answers for what happened back then! Why didn’t you trust me?”

“Of course I trusted you, I- I just…” he throws his hands up, pacing a few steps away. “It was something I needed to do. Talking to you wasn’t going to change that.”

“Oh, so I didn’t matter then?” you say, lips pressed together painfully. It’s a wet anger; blurry eyes and choked voice. You had stared down more fearsome men than Semi Eita without a tremble, but his long-forgotten familiarity somehow makes this so much harder. “My opinion didn’t matter, my life didn’t-”

“Don’t be stupid, of course you mattered! Why do you think I left, huh? You and Tsutomu matter more than anything else-”

“Well that’s not what it seemed like to me and Tsutomu!” you yell back, sick to your stomach. “One day you were here, and the next you were gone! No warning, no nothing! Tsutomu was ten, Semi. TEN.” 

He hadn’t been there to see the pieces of your life shatter apart, to see Tsutomu look so confused, to hear him ask, so quiet and ashamed, if it was his fault his brother left. He hadn’t been there to see you patch your family back together with tape you couldn’t even afford and promises you literally bled to uphold.

“I was fighting to protect you-”

“You left us for dead.”

“You would be dead if they had reached the city! What was I supposed to do? Sit back and let others die for me while I did nothing?”

You huff, dragging a hand over your eyes. Your shoulder aches. “So you thought the military needed one extra person? One extra body, that’s all it took to win the war?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he groans.

“Do I?” you fire back, leaning forward into his personal space. “Do I know? Because I was of the understanding we were a team, and then you left without a word!”

He can tell from your face you are just as frustrated at this conversation going in circles as he is. And he knows you have a point - he did leave without saying anything, and it’s a guilt that still weighs on him. But in his core, he knows he is right too. Why shouldn’t he want to defend his home? Why shouldn’t he have gone? 

“I did what I had to protect you and the kids.” His voice drops into a low anger that holds more fury than any scream could. “I’m not going to apologise for wanting to protect what I love, no matter if you appreciate it or not.”

Your eyes dart between his, narrowed and searching. There’s definitely more underlying those words, years of unspoken almosts that had to be forgotten. Even just saying that much dredges up old memories he thought long gone, lost to time and unfortunate circumstance. 

“I’d appreciate not being left alone to feed-”

“Stop being dramatic, you weren’t alone. The kids are smart, and W-”

“They were literally kids!" you flare, tongue cutting with scorn sharper than any blade he's faced. "What, you wanted me to let Yachi go work in the factories? Let Tsutomu go fight in the pits? We both know that would have been a death sentence.”

“You had Wakatoshi, and-”

“Wakatoshi died!” 

Semi has been stabbed before. It’s a strange sensation; if there’s enough adrenalin flooding your veins, it almost feels like nothing more than a poke. But slowly, a creeping realization will set in as the wetness of your shirt becomes too much to ignore and your eyes are drawn irrevocably down. It’s only then the pain will hit you.

This doesn’t feel like that. This is immediate pain, your words splattering sharp and bright across his chest. He stutters back a step, breaths coming in short and shallow bursts.

“What… who...”

Your lips are pressed together, face turned away from him. The breath you pull in is shaky, and when you meet his eyes, they’re apologetic and guilty.

“The… the town guard caught Tsutomu trying to pocket medicine for me, and they were going to take him but Wakatoshi stepped in and it all happened so fast I…” a breathy sigh escapes you, right on the cusp of a sob. “I’m so sorry Eita, I didn’t mean to tell you like that.”

“It’s-”

It’s not OK. Wakatoshi has been a reliable fixture in Semi’s life for years, unshakable through everything. His certainty was something Semi had always admired. And despite his severity, there was a gentleness to his composure - lifting the kids up onto his shoulders during the rare parades or quietly teaching them how to play knucklebones. It’s unthinkable, for Semi to have survived this war but Wakatoshi to not.

“I’m OK,” he says. 

The quiet hand you lay on his arm doesn’t help, only serving to remind him that you lost Wakatoshi too. And maybe he lost you a long time ago too. Just one more thing to add to the never-ending list of all he’s lost to this war.

Semi can only laugh, a bitter, broken sound that echoes in his own ears. It’s an ugly thing; to fight and bleed and sacrifice for a country that has never done anything for you, only to come home and be slapped with everything else that’s slipped away in the process. Of course his selflessness would be repaid in frayed relationships and lost friends.

“I’m OK,” he repeats, because he needs it to be true this time.

“Are you?” you ask, concern slipping in under the blunt question. He wants to laugh again. You always have asked the hard questions. 

Your hand slides up to cup his cheek, palm rough but touch gentle against his skin, and he leans into it rather than answer. With his eyes closed, for just this moment, he can almost believe reality isn’t quite as bleak as it actually is. 

When he opens them your head is tilted, looking up at him with exhausted but understanding eyes. Sighing, your head falls forward to knock against his chest. You shoulders slump, and he slowly reaches around to grasp the back of your shirt. It’s still messy between you, and he knows this is only the beginning of a long road back to the trust you shared before. 

Yet as your arms come up to wrap around him too, he thinks maybe there’s hope for him. 

“I missed you,” you whisper into his shirt.

Maybe even hope for you and him. It might not ever be the same, but that is a battle to be faced later. 

For now, he finally lets the tears come. For Wakatoshi. For everything he went through, for everything he put you and Tsutomu through. For the simple relief of not having to fight anymore.

He feels your arms tighten around his waist. 

“It’s OK,” you tell him, and he thinks, someday, he might just believe you.

[quietlysatan]

An Invincible Summer - ShanaStoryteller, AO3

Link: Here!!

Rating: T for read the warnings, but don’t worry too much because of them

Favorite Quote(s): I legit wanna tattoo this next quote on me somewhere

"Oh, the things that can be accomplished through ignorance of their impossibility," 

And this Straight Up Fact

“There’s no such thing as cheating as long as you win,” Natsu says, and the brat’s not wrong.

This one’s just funny

“Chouza,” Inoichi forces himself to say evenly, “Your teachings produced Ebisu and goddamned Gai.”

“Genma’s pretty normal though,” Chouza sighs, “I never could get through to that boy.”

Gently Gai casually caring about Kakashi’s well-being is my entire reason for living, speaking of which if someone wants to come be my Gai that’d be really fucking nice because us Kakashi’s don’t do too well on our own

He hesitates, but says, "Not that I do not find your newfound mentorship to be a most youthful endeavor, but -"

"I don't know," Kakashi interrupts his friend, "I met her while she was taking her genin exam and she, I don't know, adopted me or something. She just keeps showing up."

Gai nods thoughtfully, "Stubbornness is a useful skill to have when trying to cultivate a friendship with you." Kakashi elbows the other man, but doesn't protest besides that. "She's a good cook."

And this one because I love it when people Get It, ya’know?

That's really why he won't say anything, why he won't reveal that the Kyuubi's container and the fourth Hokage's child is still alive: they already killed him once. Naruto and Shikamaru are the same age, they would have been in the same class, and the idea that anyone could want to harm his innocent, precious son makes his blood boil 

And this one, for accuracy

"This sounds like a most youthful endeavor. I will bring Anko! She will fan the flames of youth in our young Konoha blossom!"

Both Itachi and Kakashi look at Gai, horrified. "Please don't," Itachi says weakly, like he knows it'll fall on deaf ears but he has to try anyway.

"Don't worry," Gai attempts to assure them, going into his Good Guy pose, "They will produce youthful flames of feminine excellence!"

"They're going to burn down Konoha," Kakashi says flatly.

Gai's hair and teeth sparkle in the sunlight, and he doesn't attempt to deny it.

Another important one

"The world is a terrible place," she says, and she has to swallow before she speaks again, "and it's full of terrible people. But I don't have to be one of them." 

I love that Natsu-chan has great balance, this is my number one favorite character trope, and I wish more people would write it

She bends down to look at him upside down, and Itachi can feel that she's not using chakra to stick onto him, and sometimes her balance just isn't logical. 

I just love the idea of tiny genius Naruto, and I love that Natsu-chan is a seal master at like, fucking seven and a half lol

Itachi knows it's actually far more complicated than that, but just as he does not tell her minutia of the past shinobi wars in their history lessons, she does not overcomplicate her explanations of sealing. Usually he's grateful for that, but when she appears to break every known law to sealing and chakra, he's not.

"That's," he blinks and he's not going to tell her it's impossible because it clearly isn't, "new," he settles on.

A mood honestly

Inoichi now feels the urge to bang his head against the table top, because 'a huge pain' to Natsu is 'literally impossible' to everyone else.

Another mood honestly

Inoichi watches his former genin dig in with resignation. “When are you guys going to start picking up the tab? Feeding you all isn’t cheap you know.”

Hana swallows her mouthful, “Sensei, I am but a lone healer’s apprentice –“

“I have been a chunin less than a month,” Kabuto pouts, wounded, “and already you seek to profit-“

“Do you have any idea how much sealing paper and ink costs?” Natsu demands.

“Okay, okay,” Inoichi grumbles, but it’s not very effective considering he’s smiling, “I take it back, jeez.”

Okay so, since this is a 100k+ word fic, I’ve been doing this thing lately literally just now on this fic review where I only feature quotes from the first chapter (Depending on length.) but, I’m making an exception because I’ve never seen these three characters and my thoughts on them summed up so well by someone I don’t know which is to say anyone, no one I know cares about my interests really lol

"Maybe a little," he admits grudgingly, "Sakura's really smart, but she acts dumb for some reason. And her endurance is really bad. She probably would have been failed on that alone if she didn't have such good aim with shuriken. And Sasuke's good at like, everything, I still don't get why he didn't graduate earlier. He's just so-" Kiba rubs his hand over his face.

"So what?" Hana prompts, even though she's heard this particular complaint before.

"Sad," the genin sighs, "He's miserable all the time, and he works hard and if you yell at him for long enough he'll work with you, but - crap, I don't know. He's got this really great poker face so you think he's just a big jerk, but I can smell his emotions, the big idiot, and he's just this sad lonely kid who won't listen to anyone."

Hana hums, because if she opens her mouth she'll probably start cursing the Hokage and his dumb rules and his dumb ideas, and that is not the type of thing that leads to a long life.

Just one last quote because dudes, guys, pals, friends of mine it’s important and you should all stop and read it.

 “Thanks for being cool with – everything. I’m really happy you’re not mad at me for not being honest with you.”

“You are my friend,” Gaara says warmly, “and you have always been honest about that.”

Words & Chapter(s): 136,306 words of greatness, and 6 full chapters of nicely done completion

Summary: When Naruto is five, he's gutted by a drunken civilian and presumed dead.

Six months later a girl with ash pale hair and dark blue eyes enters the Academy. 

(Guys I swear on my cool as fuck username, and all around internet personality as practically satan and probably Lucifer and whatnot that nobody we like stays dead or severely injured)

Score: 13, this is one of my favorites for a reason, this is actually my second technically third time rereading this in as many weeks

Pairing(s): Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka, background Haku/Zabuza, but don’t worry anything you’re thinking of is addressed quite nicely in the fic ultra background but still there’s a lot of relationships and I’m not going to tag them all

Warning(s): Naruto technically dies more than once because this is Naruto we’re talking about but they also technically don’t??? You gotta read it, but basically temporary character death, only the bad guys stay dead in this one.

Nobody knows that Naru-chan lived so there’s that angst for you, however, to be fair it’s not like this whole story is just characters mourning and crying and whatnot, at this point it’s mostly just passing thoughts and memories which, again, to be fair, does almost feel worse at times... Huh, regardless it’s not overly angsty

Kakashi is adopted whether he likes it or not by Natsu-chan, we love both of our emotionally fucked over fair-haired ninja in this house so you won’t have to worry about that sorta fic coming outta nowhere from me BTW... but anyways, Kakashi freaks out a bit, much like the abused dog he always reminds me of, but Natsu is the sweetest and most gentle, yet forceful person he could’ve possibly caught the attention of. (This is canon)

The Akatsuki are still bad, BUT ITACHI ISN’T technically SO WHO FUCKING CARES!!!! (The Massacre still happens tho...)

Mentions of The Flower District and what that implies, and also things a Kunoichi might definitely do

Oh my fucking god the Hyuga... Who would willingly do something so horrible as that? Of all the things... Warning for... The Hyuga branch family situation, it’s dealt with nearly as soon as we are informed but, gods, my blood ran cold, and my face whited out, my sister thought someone had died when she saw my face haha,,, who the fuck does this? And do they die? In canon I mean? I think I only watched up to the chunin exams or Pein’s attack, I can’t remember which tho...

Natsu cries because people are nice to her sometimes. And honestly that’s fair, I burst into to tears once because I imagined someone kissing my forehead softly so, Natsu is completely valid... Sidenote, I’m touch-starved and have no cure for this beyond younger siblings and my cat because I don’t have the ability to ask my mom for a hug without literally gross sobbing and I have A Thing about embarrassment sooooo... yeah if anyone has some therapy justu for me that’d be nice

Mentions of Gross Men that apparently want to have Natsu’s increasingly growing collection of the absolute most dangerous people she can befriend pay them a visit. And by that, I mean an old fuckwit has the gall to leer at a TEN-YEAR-OLD and a FUCKING THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD!!!!!! Ugh, I hate those kinds of pathetic worms.

On that note, there is technically underaged things going on, but they are also Ninja soooo???? They’ve killed people and are technically in their version of an army, and by the laws of their lands they’re all adults, actually I’m pretty sure by shinobi life expectancy Kakashi is middle-aged, Inoichi is a senior citizen, and Hiruzen is a walking corpse tbh

Alcoholism??? I don’t really think it is but I’m not sure, but some characters do drink often, and usually when stressed courtesy of Natsu and co. but still... I don’t actually know if it is because it doesn’t actually happen much, more like every few weeks/months

Mentions of past sexual assault, and attempted past sexual assault, neither happen in fic or to any of our main characters, the experiences are not graphic though they do talk about it in chapter five, it’s not to graphically described.

Also, a bunch of off-screen lemon

A Thing (That I copy-pasted from the author so that all of you will see it and not say a single word against it.): If you thought Natsu was too mature for her age - she has seen and been through some really horrible shit. But also: my cousin has, since he was like 4, hung out with kids that were about 4 years older than him because those were the kids that were in his neighborhood or whatever. Point being, even after he started school, his main group of friends was consistently older than him. He very quickly adapted to that, and to this day (he's 12) hangs out with that same group, and considers children his own age 'kids' because he adapted to the behavior of the group he was surrounded with. I hardly believe Natsu would be any different.

And also

4. Quick little note because some people mentioned liking my portrayal of the Sandaime. I base his decisions/motivations (and Itachi and Danzo's to a certain extent) around this quote by Clementine von Radics: "It is so hard to live half monster, to hurt everything you love by trying to protect it wrong."

Pros: Watching Natsu just casually disregard the idea of gender with little to no thought is the greatest thing anyone will ever experience beyond, I dunno, the party we’re all gonna collectively throw when soggy Cheeto dies (I still haven’t decided which song we should make chart number one when that happens)

Given that I’ve technically read this three times you should already know the writing is fucking amazing, like, whoa, mind blown type of amazing, like, wow, so good, I usually hate rereading something I’ve read before, and especially so soon after the fact but geez Louis is this fic amazing

Natsu is just as easy to fall in love with as Naruto, and they are still the same people with slightly different personalities as is to be realistically expected with a situation like Naru’s was.

Also, GENDERFLUID REPRESENTATION DONE FUCKING AMAZINGLY IS ALWAYS A PLUS!!!!!!! 

The author manages to convey a very realistic genderfluid character in an incredibly believable manner, while also still keeping Natsu/Naruto themself. They’re still the Naruto that we knew and loved, but they’re different too, as is to be expected. when Natsu is a girl no-one stumbles, she is a girl without a doubt, even the author doesn’t trip up on societal expectations, and when Naruto is a boy there is next to immediate acceptance of this fact with absolutely zero (0) Zero bullshit from transphobes, which, as a genderfluid person myself, is always fucking nice to see. You’ll have to read it to know more though.

Natsu running around creating seals is honestly the greatest thing ever, and the end scene with the village made me cry a lil bit, and dammit this fic is so fucking good!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So, there’s a scene, where Natsu heals Kakashi, and the way the author handled explaining the intimate not sexual relationship between two of my favorite characters ever is just, so subtly beautiful, the sibling-bond these two have is beautiful, and a part of me wants to cry sometimes when I read it, and usually do cry a little when I get to this scene, and only partially because of what happened directly before it.

I love the way everybody just gets up and moves past their trauma and just decides to politely ignore it, oh they still have it, they still deal with it, but they care, and they are careful about it, and even though it hurts them like a knife-wound to the kidney in slow-motion they still get back up and keep fucking going. That’s hella admirable and I can respect that, I can respect even more that they slowly but surely let themselves heal as time moves on. This fic is beautiful on so many different levels but it is this one perhaps, that is the most magnificent. Perhaps.

Sasuke is adorable and depressing and adorable and I love it. And Ino is still a bad bitch but she’s a kid so we only see it like a handful of times in the first two chapters. The Akimichi/Yamanaka/Nara are all great, and I occasionally pity Inionchicause like, he’s putting up with a well-informed seal genius that’s still hyper, a slightly frightening medic-kunoichi with giant dogs, another slightly more frightening medic-nin who isn’t the greatest fighter but damn can he be intimidating and also really good at pointing out “Certain Things” while judging you about them which, honestly, is my greatest pastime. Itachi is so sweet and then so tragic oh my gods, and Natsu never even considers giving up on him. Kakashi is so sweet, and he slowly becomes less of a beaten dog as time goes on and I just love all of these characters.

Except for Hiruzen. Well, no, I still love this particular incarnation of Hiruzen, for all that he’s got one hell of a pathetically small backbone, I get why he does shit. But that doesn’t make me happy. Still, he’s better than dumbledouchebag. Granted that’s not difficult, and you might have to actively put an effort in to be as bad as that guy, but still. Plus, his hearts in the right place, and he’s less about the greater good then... certain disgraces to teaching and being in charge of a large group of people... Hiruzen is actually kinda sweet and admits he has issues and actually has an excuse that’s understandable for the shit that he pulls which is great, if sadly uncommon.

Anyways, Sakura is terrifying, and I remembered why I had a crush on her. She’s so badass, also, she ends up Princess Mononoke basically which, honestly, is fucking great, and the best thing we could’ve asked for, I love all of these characters so much!!!

Aesthetic: It reminds me off beefy stew (We don’t eat beef, so we used vegan soy beef stuff instead, and it was just as good.) it reminds me of the warmth, and friendship, and home that I felt after my mom and I make dinner together with nothing but a little music on and jokes passing back and forth between us. It reminds me of scraping my knee and having my friends help me to their mom, it reminds me of loyalty and compassion. It reminds me of dancing outside at night, alone in the forest with nothing but the moon for company and wind for music. It reminds me of the first time I realized that I could love someone despite their gender and that I should despite mine. It reminds me of finely spun handmade lace, and all it’s delicate while also reminding me of the sturdiest of steels, it reminds me of so much. It reminds me of acceptance, and understanding, and so much more. If I were to say what food and drink it reminds me of, I’d say chicken noodle soup, and sweet lavender-lemon tea.

Music Aesthetic: So, I made a playlist while I was reading this the first time around, and instead of a gif or twenty like I would usually prefer to do I’m going to add that playlist. https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLbhXmTSBbAyjk0m1b4BZUp3t0RHL83LDK

But if I were to add a gif or two it’d be these

Because something about this fic reminds me of rainy days with tea and baggy clothes.

Every time Natsu/Naruto decided to fight ever, to be honest.

[shestillhasherquill]

At the Heart of Darkness (4/11)

So sorry for the late update. I truly can't say enough thanks for nice words - that’s right. I read your tags. Keep ‘em coming.

I'm slowly making my way through the collection of fic at the @captainswanbigbang tumblr page and lemme tell you - there is so much freaking talent out there, man. Kudos to the mods for making this event happen this year, and for bringing us all together.

As always, I'll be remiss if I don't thank @sambethe for being an amazing artist to work, a wonder second beta, and a true friend in times of need. You need to check out the artwork she's done, and the banner on her tumblr. I can't wait to share the others as well.

@downeystarkjr made my mom want to read my fic, which is saying something. My mom took one look at the video and she goes "wow, your story sounds interesting. Are you nice to Emma and Killian in this one?" and I'm reply, like the overdramatic fuck I am "Mom do you know me but at all?" Anyway, the point is, you should check out the incredible video she's made for the fic and just GO LOVE IT OKAY?

Writing this fic with minimal feedback was hard, really. If it weren't for @accio-ambition‘s snarky comments about how rude I'm being to our babies and her rare but true praises, my head would have blown up. Thanks for keeping me rooted, Janet.

Summary: Killian Jones lives in the Land without Magic, with no memories of his family. Until Emma Swan comes into his life like a whirlwind, reminding about everything he had lost. He embarks on an adventure to destroy the Darkness, only to discover that Emma might not be telling him the whole story.

Rating: M

Content Warning: Mentions of Miscarriage, Angst, Gothel

Prologue: tumblr ao3 ff.net | Chapter 1: tumblr ao3 ff.net | Chapter 2: tumblr ao3 ff.net

Current Chapter: ao3 ff.net

Chapter 3: These memories will stay with me

“Emma? What are you doing here?” Killian asked, approaching her. He had seen her in his dreams so often the past three months, and often wondered if he would ever see her again in real life. But for her to actually be here, in front of him, after three months of silence - more than anything, it only served to confuse him further. Everything about her being seemed to put him on edge. As if he had forgotten something very important; it was the feeling when you’re uncertain if you turned the gas off before you left home. Either you come home and everything is fine, or you come back to impending disaster.

“You know her?” Will asked from behind, but Killian simply ignored him, his eyes only for the woman in front of him. She hadn’t said a word since her greeting, as if she was afraid of him. Just the thought of it made him uncomfortable. He never wanted her to feel like he was a threat to her.

“Is there some place we could talk?” she said finally. Glancing at Will, she added. “Privately.”

He nodded, pointing out a coffee shop just opposite the bookstore they were at. “I’ll meet you there in 5 minutes.”

Emma nodded, smiling stiffly at him and waving half-mindedly at Will before leaving. Killian turned to his friend, anticipating the third-degree.

“So, I’m assuming she’s part of the thing you’re dealing with?” Will asked, arms crossed and eyes guarded.

“Ah- well, I guess you could say that?”

“You don’t sound so sure there, mate.”

“I met her once, Will. But I feel like I’ve known her for longer than that.” Killian began, but stopped when he saw Will roll his eyes.

“Killian, that is such a cliche.”

“No, Will. It’s not like that,” Killian protested. “Do you remember when I told you about my dreams?”

Will looked puzzled, but nodded anyway, clearly unsure of where Killian was going with this. “She was in them. I think she always was.”

“You’re overthinking this. Those are just dreams, nothing more.” Will placed both his hands on Killian’s shoulders, making Killian meet his gaze. “You need to stay rooted in reality, Killian.”

“I am. Dammit, this is more than just dreams.” Killian pushed him away. “You’ve known me since you were 25. For years, mate. You’re my sponsor, my friend. I don’t care if you don’t believe me, but I think after all these years, I at least deserve some trust.”

Will deflated, looking put-off. “Alright, fine. Go, chase after some girl you think you know. Don’t come running back to me if she thinks you’re crazy.”

“I’m not crazy!” Killian called after himself, rushing out the door.

-/-

21 years ago: Enchanted Forest

“Am I crazy or do you see it too?” Emma asked out of the blue, staring at the shimmering surface of the spell that kept Alice trapped.

“Do I see what, love? Use your words,” Killian said patronisingly, not looking up from the book he was reading. Emma shot him a glare but before she could point it out, the shimmer disappeared and it was blue skies again.

“Nothing, forget about it,” she murmured, going back to helping Alice with her arithmetic. She didn’t understand why Killian insisted on this nonsense when he could be teaching Alice about things more fascinating. Arithmetic was the dullest subject she had ever studied as a child, and she never thought she would have to be faced with it again once she had come of age. Regina had been very particular about Emma’s education, pushing her to excel in all subjects. Emma would spend hours on her sums, worrying her head off about underperforming and facing Regina’s wrath.

“Did you see something?” Killian pushed, putting his book down and staring at her sharply. He looked ready to battle.

Emma rolled her eyes at his dramatics. “It was just the barrier spell. I keep seeing it from time to time.”

“What’s a barrier spell?” Alice asked, looking up from her addition. Emma did not understand why Killian insisted that a five-year-old needed to learn addition, but Alice seemed to actually enjoy it. Emma would not be the one to tell her how useless it was. She had been lectured by Killian enough when she spoke about it with him.

Killian shook his head, glaring briefly at Emma. “It’s nothing you need to worry about, Starfish,” he replied. “Now, are you done with your sums?”

“Almost,” Alice replied, begrudgingly focusing her attention back on her work.

Emma gaped at Killian, not certain why he wouldn’t just tell Alice the truth. She might be five, but she was an intuitive child. Alice already knew she was trapped in here; Emma did not see the point in not telling her what a barrier spell was.

“Jones, could I see you in the kitchen, please?” Emma asked through gritted teeth.

Killian frowned at her, unable to understand her frustration. “Aye. Starfish, keep working on the sums for Papa, alright?” he added, nodding when he got a murmured acknowledgement from her.

He followed after Emma to the kitchen, his eyebrows raised at her defensive stance - nostrils flaring and arms crossed, a deep-set frown fixed on her face. “What’s the matter, Swan?” he asked. He had taken to calling her that now - Swan, as if they were familiars.

Maybe they were - she was living at his residence, spending all day with him and his daughter, she had even gone on a supply run for them so Killian didn’t have to leave Alice alone like he usually did. But being this familiar - it felt like a big step for Emma, like she was putting down roots, and caring about these people. She was only here to help free Alice from this tower. She was a means to an end to them, that’s all. Maybe it was wrong to want to be a part of this family, to insert herself in it. Maybe she shouldn’t say anything to Killian about Alice after all, lest she cross her limits.

“Emma? Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?” Killian prompted when he received no answer to his earlier question.

She blew out a long breath, resting her hands on her hips instead. “You know I care about Alice.”

“Of course I do. Why-”

“Just- Listen. I know I have only been here for a few weeks, maybe a month, but I’ve grown close to her. To you both, I think. I- I don’t want to overstep.”

“Overstep? Do we have a problem here?” he asked defensively, his jaw clenched and face guarded.

“I just don’t think it’s right to not tell Alice what the barrier spell is. She already knows she is trapped in here. She is already exposed to that. It’s not fair to her-”

Killian cut her off, his tone icy and curt. “You’re right. It’s not fair for her to be stuck here. It’s not fair that she has been exposed to something this cruel so young. But I do my best to keep her mind off of it, as much as I can in a day. You’ve only been here for a month. I’ve been here with her for five years. I know my daughter; I’ve held her all the nights that she has cried out for a mother, for her freedom, to have another child to play with. I’ve seen her heart break more times than I can count. She’s a child - my child. If I choose to not tell her something, I get to do that. I’m the only parent she has.”

Emma was flabbergasted, stuttering through her apologies. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t-”

“You didn’t - what? Realise that I might have an idea about what I’m doing? That I know how to raise my daughter?” he snapped. She could see how much he struggled to rein in his anger. She should have listened to her gut and kept from poking her nose where it did not belong. She did not belong here, and she had to remember her place.

She held her hands up, feeling remorse choke her. “You’re right. I didn’t realise that. I’m truly sorry, Killian. I know I have no rights here to comment.”

“You’re right. You don’t. She’s my daughter, not yours.” And with that he walked away, leaving Emma with a mountain of guilt.

-/-

Present Day: Land without Magic

Killian stood outside the coffee shop he had asked Emma to wait at, staring at her through the glass, just observing her for a moment. She was too busy stirring milk into her drink to notice him, so he took the chance to prepare himself. He had a feeling that the moment he entered and they talked, his life was going to change, like a gut-instinct. One side was telling him to run away and the other telling him to face whatever it was. He squared his shoulders, pushing through the glass doors.

He walked toward the table where Emma was sitting, his heart fluttering slightly when she looked up and smiled brightly at him. It felt like the sun was shining after a rainstorm; he mentally shook himself from the love-sick direction his thoughts were headed in. “I’m sorry if I made you wait too long,” he said in greeting, taking the seat opposite her.

She waved away his apology, lifting her beverage at him and pointing to the additional one in front of him. “It gave me time to get myself something to drink. I wasn’t certain what to get you, but I didn’t think I could go wrong with some coffee. I hope that’s alright?”

“Yeah, no. That’s- Coffee’s good. Thank you.” He sipped at his own drink, not knowing where to start. How could he outright ask her where she had been the past three months? He barely knew the woman! Thankfully, Emma saved him from the awkwardness by starting the conversation.

“You must be wondering why I didn’t contact you for the past three months. And why I showed up out of the blue at your book signing,” she started, folding her arms on the table.

Killian tried to gauge her expression, but it was impassive. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. I wasn’t certain if you were just ignoring me.”

Emma shook her head, quick to reassure him. “No, no. Nothing of the sort. I was- I was occupied with work and couldn’t get away until now.”

Killian wasn’t sure she was telling him the truth, but chose to ignore that. No matter what her reasons were, she was here now. He would finally get the answers he was looking for. “Emma, I need to ask you something. This might sound crazy but-”

“It’s about your dreams, isn’t it?” she asked, cutting him off.

Killian’s eyes widened and he unintentionally leaned away from her. “How do you know that?” he demanded, eyes sharp and unwavering from her.

“You told me you’ve been having dreams that you were Captain Hook,” she replied calmly, as if that explained everything.

“What does that have to do with-”

“You didn’t let me finish. Killian, that wasn’t a dream. That was a memory. You are Captain Hook.”

Killian would have laughed if her answer did not feel like a vat of cold water being poured down his back. He blinked at her, trying to process what she just told him. “I’m sorry - did you just say that I’m Captain Hook?”

“Yes. You are. You just forgot who you are.”

“How is that even possible? I remember my past here. I had a brother, I was in the Navy. I had a life here, and that did not include me being Captain Hook!” He slammed his hand on the table in frustration, making everyone in the coffee shop stop what they were doing and stare at him. When he glared back at them, they went back to minding their own business.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Emma said, reaching for both his hands, like she had done the last time they had spoken, startling him once again at how she reached for his prosthetic without flinching. “I know you’re overwhelmed, and that what I said sounds ridiculous.” She paused, as if waiting to see if he was listening. “But some part of you must know  what I’m saying is real. Your dreams are just a way for your memories to manifest. You said you remember having a brother? You did. And you were part of the navy. Just- just not in this realm. Your life here, your past...it’s not real, Killian.”

“But it is. My past may not have been, if what you say is true. But my life here is still real,” he replied vehemently, removing his hands from her hold. He thought he had been ready for some explanation to his dreams, but now that he had heard this one, he couldn’t help but think it absurd. There was no possible way that he could have forgotten an entire lifetime’s worth of memories.

“If what you’re saying is true, then how am I here? And why do I not have my memories?” he asked, his gut clenching anxiously.

“I promise, I will explain everything in detail. But not here.” Emma held out her hand palm up, her eyes imploring him to give her a chance, to trust her.

Killian could see her emotions clearly on her face; she let herself be vulnerable. If he chose to, he could walk out of here and he would never have to see her again. He could do that. But instead, he relented, grasping her hand with his:  “Alright. Let’s go back to my place, and we can talk.”

Emma smiled gratefully at him through pursed lips, and Killian could see her struggle to keep her tears at bay. He felt a lump in his throat, seeing her response to his show of trust in her. “Thank you, Killian.”

-/-

21 years ago: Enchanted Forest

Emma felt uncomfortable after her argument with Killian, knowing that she had taken things a bit too far. She had crossed a line, about Alice no less, and now she was on uncertain ground with Killian. Again. She needed to get out for a while, allow him to calm down and clear the air of this tension. She feigned the need for some supplies for a spell and scaled down the tower. But it was not before Alice had made her promise that she would return again. Killian barely acknowledged her, simply nodding when she told him she would be back before sundown.

“Is there anything you need me to get?” she asked softly, unable to meet Killian’s eyes.

“It’s not necessary,” he replied curtly, turning his back to her. Emma could understand a dismissal if she ever saw one and left wordlessly.

She took her time to walk to the nearest town north of the tower, knowing to avoid the town she had been chased out of. It allowed her time to think, but she would be fooling herself if she expected to be able to think of anything but her fight with Killian. She hadn’t realised what a big folly she had committed by questioning his parenting skills. Of course he had been angry; she had no place passing judgement, she was not a mother - in all reality, Alice was the first child she had ever spent any extended time with.

Emma absentmindedly played with the ring she was wearing. Her mother had given it to her, it had been the same ring that had brought Snow and Charming together in the first place. It was a symbol of their true love, just like Emma herself was. Snow had told Emma that true love follows that ring, but Emma stopped believing in that a long time ago. There was no knight in shining armour or Prince Charming to save her - the only one who saved Emma was herself. She had been alone for very long time, and she was good at that. She had been fine by herself; but when she found herself living with Killian and Alice, she realised that simply because she was fine being by herself did not have to mean that she had to be alone. She felt like she was a part of something, that the broken pieces of all three of them came together to make something resembling a whole.

But she had been fooling herself. She did not have a place in that family.

She wanted one, though. This was the first time she was admitting it to herself, but Emma wanted so much to be a part of something. She felt her chest tighten with disappointment, and she was grateful that neither Killian nor Alice were around to see her this way. She brushed aside the few tears that had fallen, and strengthened her resolve - she was going to do everything she could to help Alice. That little girl deserved far more than being stuck in that godforsaken tower all her life. It might take her a while, but she was going to build the perfect spell - one that would not only break the barrier that was around the tower and kept Alice inside, but one that could never harm Alice ever again. With her mind made up, Emma walked determinedly toward the market.

-/-

Present Day: Land without Magic

Killian unlocked the door to his house, allowing Emma through first before he followed her in. He took his coat off, making sure to hang it on the coat rack. Then followed with his suit jacket, which he proceeded to fold meticulously and place on the back of a chair. He watched as Emma took in everything, her gaze critical. She ran her finger over a painting he had done, tracing the brush strokes.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, almost to herself. But it became clear that she had been talking to him when she turned and asked, “Did you paint this?”

“Yes, I did. It’s-it’s just a hobby,” he replied, tugging on his ear and looking at his shoes in embarrassment. When he looked up, Emma looked pensively. “What is it?”

She shook her head, biting down on her lip. He could tell that she was hesitant to tell him, but if he was going to get the entire story out of her, she ought to feel like she could tell him anything. “Emma, you can tell me anything,” he assured her, approaching her.

She relaxed slightly, looking around his house again before meeting his eyes. “The life you have here, with these memories - it’s different, but there’s echoes of your- your other self everywhere. It just disoriented me a bit, I’m sorry.”

Killian’s expression softened, seeing how conflicted Emma seemed. “Do you want to sit down? We could talk, and you can tell me everything about this other self,” he said, leading her to the couch.

Once they both were seated comfortably, Emma began her tale. “I know you want some proof that what I’m saying is true. I have something you gave to me a long time ago. It holds some of my magic, so I can use it in this realm, the Land without Magic.” She pulled the ring she had been carrying with her, holding it out for him to take.

Something about it felt so familiar to Killian, his chest feeling tight as he reached for it. “I- I gave you a ring?” he asked, indirectly asking the question he really wanted to ask. Did I propose to you?

Emma breathed deeply, meeting his gaze unwaveringly. Her meaning was clear when she replied with a simple, “Yes.”

“Oh,” he breathed, his hand clenching around the ring, his gaze fixed on her face, wishing he knew what she was thinking. But her face was impassive, giving nothing away. It occurred to him how difficult this must be for her - his other self probably loved her, and he doesn’t even remember it.

“Do you believe me? Do you- do you feel anything at all? Or remember anything?” she asked, sounding hopeful.

“I think,” Killian paused, evaluating his feelings. While his mind argued vehemently against this, his heart was a completely different story. He had felt something from the moment he met her, and it had to have meant something. Life wasn’t a romance novel, there was no such thing as love at first sight. But maybe...maybe there was a dormant part of him that woke up when he saw her that day at the bookstore. As crazy as it sounded, it made sense to him. Her explanation helped make sense of his conflicted feelings, of his dreams, of his demons.

“I want to believe you,” he said with conviction. “But I need to know more. Or I need to get my memories back.”

Emma looked like she was trying hard not to kiss him, but he could see how happy she looked. Her eyes crinkled at the corners when she grinned, her laugh lines more apparent. He could see the tears welling in her eyes, as well and wanted to do nothing more than take her in his arms. According to her, he was her fiance, so it wouldn’t be like he would be doing something wrong. But he wasn’t certain how Emma felt, and so refrained from doing anything that would make her uncomfortable. “You’ll believe me? Just like that?” she asked, unable to stop herself from smiling widely, tearily.

He reached for her hand with his prosthetic, flipping it over and pressing the ring in her palm, holding his hand over hers. “I don't know if I believe you but I felt something the very first moment I saw you, Emma. Like I recognised you, like I knew you.” He hesitated, finally voicing the thought that had been running through his mind since he met her. “I have been searching for something, some meaning to my life, as if I was missing something and I could not remember what it was. But I saw you, and it felt like I found it, because I found you.”

He slowly reached up, giving her all the time to pull away. But she didn’t - she held his gaze steadily as his fingers traced her cheek. She gasped softly, her lips slightly parted and her eyes falling shut all on their own. “Why didn’t you just tell me then?” he whispered, his eyes moving over her face, trying to read her.

Emma opened her eyes, backing away slightly and pulling his hand to rest in the space between them. She swallowed thickly before she spoke, “I wanted to, but I was afraid that you would think I was crazy. I should have told you then, but I- I was being selfish.” She whispered the last part like a confession, shifting her gaze away from his.

“Selfish?”

“Killian, you were - you are - in danger. That’s why you left in the first place. So, when I saw you again, as much as I wanted to tell you everything, I wanted to protect you too. Just for a little while.”

“Protect me from what, Emma?” he asked, feeling troubled.

“Not what. Who. A witch named Gothel. She has been after you for a while, and the only way to stop her was for you to leave for somewhere she could never find you - The Land without Magic. It’s not easy to find passage to this realm, and she did not have the magic to create one. Until recently.”

“A what?” He scoffed. When he noticed how serious she was, he changed the subject. “Why is she after me? You said I was just a pirate, right? What could I possibly have that she would need?”

She squeezed his hand, looking pained, as if she wanted to do anything but tell him the reason some crazy witch was after him. “You have extremely powerful, extremely ancient magic. And a Dagger that she can use to control you.”

-/-

21 years ago: Enchanted Forest

Emma meandered through the market, stopping at stalls and exploring them at her leisure. She was not ready to go back to the tower, and she knew that it would take time still for Killian to calm down. It had been almost an hour of her wandering around when a handmade rabbit doll caught her eye. It was discarded to the back of the stall, hidden behind all the other dolls. Emma reached for it, fingering the spot where one of its paws was torn off, leaving a gaping hole at the end with bits of cotton coming out. Of all the dolls there, this one was quite old and worn.

“You wanna buy that?” the shopkeeper, an elderly lady, asked, squinting at Emma.

Her mind made up, Emma nodded. “I know a little girl who would love it. How much for it?”

The woman regarded Emma before waving her hand dismissively. “You can take it, no charge. I hope your little girl likes it,” she said kindly.

“Oh, she’s not-” Emma stopped mid-correction and left the old lady with a couple of coppers and a “Thank you”.

Emma pulled out the list she had made a few days ago, hoping she could find at least a few of the ingredients she was looking for. She had decided to use hydrangeas as a binding agent, along with dragon’s blood to strengthen it. But those were hard to come by so far north, and even harder to manipulate. She would have to know what spell the witch who trapped Alice had used, which was neigh on impossible. For now, she would just have to keep experimenting. She could not use her magic directly on the barrier spell; it took longer than she would have preferred for her magic to return to her and for the burn marks on her hands to disappear. She would have to be more cautious.

She had a few theories for how the spell worked, especially against magic. But theories meant nothing if she did not have the resources to test them. On her walk to the apothecary, she spotted a stall that sold books. She browsed through them, hoping to find one that was on spells using magical herbs and spices, or even witchcraft that did not necessarily involve direct use of magic. Emma had to be careful about the spells that she used, however - her magic was one-of-a-kind. It was light magic, and so far that seemed to be the sufficient for keeping the effects of the witch’s tamper-proof charms at bay. It took a bit of perusing, but Emma finally found a book that might be useful. Well, it was more of a journal than a book, but as she looked over some of the spells that had been written down, she felt more confident.

Unfortunately for her, most of the spells seemed to involve dark magic, something she could not use. But perhaps it might prove important in breaking down the elements the witch used for her spell. From what little she had been able to garner from Killian, the witch seemed to have a penchant for nature magic. Emma was not familiar with that aspect of magic, but there was no time like the present to learn something new. Content with her purchase for the day, and with the amount of time that had passed since she had left, she turned to head back to the tower. She caught herself before she could refer to it as home - home is somewhere one belonged, and Emma wasn’t certain that the tower represented that for her. Not yet, at least.

-/-

Present Day: Land without Magic

Killian paced back and forth, worrying a hole in his rug as he did so. Emma was perturbed by his reaction to what she had revealed. She would be lying if she said she hadn’t anticipated this ; what hurt her even more was how acutely she could feel his agitation and turmoil. She had yet to reveal that piece of information to him, but thankfully whatever connection that he had forged between them seemed to work only one-way. Otherwise he would have told her - she was not exactly a pillar of stability right now. If Killian had the ability to feel her emotions the same way she did with his, it would have been obvious by now, Emma was certain of it.

“Killian, perhaps you should take a seat. Try to calm down,” she suggested, attempting to sound soothing.

He whirled around to face her, his eyes clearly panicked and hair in disarray from the number of times he had tugged at it. “Calm down?” he bit out through clenched teeth, his voice an octave higher than usual. “You just told me I have the world’s most ancient darkness within me, Emma. Do you know how crazy you sound?”

Killian’s harsh words seemed to snap something in Emma, her expression twisting in anger as she stood up as well, her hands clenched at her side. “You don’t get to call me that. You said you believed me. You said you wanted to know.”

“But magic? Darkness? Some witch out for blood? Does that sound sane to you?” he exploded, throwing his hands up in the air.

“You want proof, Killian?” she challenged, her jaw clenched. “I’ll show you proof.” She gripped her ring, drawing the necessary power from it; when she felt like she had enough, she thrust her hand through her own chest.

Killian gasped, his heart in his throat as he watched with wide-eyed horror as she tugged her heart out of her chest. She was not certain what he expected, but she assumed he did not expect a glowing red organ, held almost carelessly. He seemed extremely disturbed to see Emma holding her own heart in her hand.

“Is this proof enough?” she panted, her body swaying slightly.

He blinked at her, unable to form words. There was no doubt in his mind now that magic existed; but for Emma to have gone to such an extent… it pained him. Seeing her in pain made him feel like he was being ripped apart. He cupped his mouth with his hand, his chest constricting painfully. “Yes, yes! I believe you. Put it back, put it back right now,” he demanded, but she could hear the tremble in his voice.

Not that she wanted to. It wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience, having one’s heart outside of the safety of one’s chest. Emma grunted as she thrust her heart back in place. However, it had perhaps not been a good idea to have done that so soon after her surgery. Emma felt the energy drain out of her and she swayed dangerously, feeling dizzy and imbalanced.

Killian was quick to catch her before she could fall, lowering her on the couch. “Why would you do that?” he whispered brokenly, his hands shaking as he gripped her shoulder. “You’re raving mad, woman.”

“I didn’t have a choice. I had to get you to believe me. I cannot bear it if Gothel did anything more to you,” she replied, her voice just as soft.

“Emma…” he began, but trailed off. He seemed conflicted, and why wouldn’t he be? Emma completely disrupted his life here, and probably traumatised him.

Emma could feel the toll her stunt had taken on her. Her chest felt tight, like there was an immense amount of pressure on it. She found it difficult to breath. She grasped her ring, hoping to draw power from it to heal her. But after the abuse she just put herself through, there was barely anything left. She couldn’t use it like she usually did - there was just one other option. Emma gripped Killian’s shirt collar tight, her voice tight as she gasped out, “Killian, you need to take me to a hospital. Right now.”

-/-

21 years ago: Enchanted Forest

It was well past dusk when Emma finally made her way back to the tower, whistling for Killian to drop the rope ladder for her. She had climbed it the first time with nothing but sheer determination and her father’s broadsword, driven by her intentions to escape being burnt at the stake. But given the option, she would rather use something that was sturdier than steel on rock. Killian was quick to respond to her wordless request, and she swiftly scaled the tower, hoisting herself over the window ledge and landing on her feet without much trouble.

“Emma! You’re back!” Alice exclaimed, running to her. Emma smiled, getting to her knees so she was at an appropriate height to accept the welcome embrace from Alice. Emma squeezed the little girl slightly, holding her for a moment longer than necessary before pulling her back by her shoulders.

“I promised you, didn’t I?” Emma rooted through her satchel, pulling the doll she had bought for Alice. “I got you something. I know he is a little torn and shabby, but we can fix him up, can’t we?” Emma asked, holding it out for Alice to take.

Alice reached for it with an awed smile, but stopped short of taking it, remembering to ask her father first. She looked at him over her shoulder, and so did Emma. She hoped he would see this for the peace offering it was. His face remained impassive for a moment, and Emma almost started apologising, but she noticed the small smile break through as he wordlessly nodded at Alice.

Alice turned to Emma, grinning widely as she took the doll from Emma, cradling it reverently. “Thank you, Emma!” Emma was startled by the force of Alice’s small body crashing into hers, her smaller hands wrapping tightly around Emma’s neck.

Emma smiled, running her fingers through Alice’s hair. “You’re very welcome, Alice Jones,” she whispered, smiling even as Alice went to introduce her new doll to the rest of her collection. Killian held out his hand for her, pretending not to look at her. Emma rolled her eyes, deliberately reaching for his hook instead and pulling herself up.

Killian turned to look when he felt a tug on his hook, just as Emma straightened up from her squat. They were suddenly stood very close together, her breasts almost touching his chest with every breath she took. They were both thrown off by their proximity, but Emma was the first to move back, clearing her throat.

“I- uh, I should probably get something to eat,” she said, walking backward toward the small kitchen, looking everywhere but at Killian.

Killian was still dazed, but quickly shook himself. “Right, yes. Would you like me to fix you-”

“No, no. That’s alright,” Emma protested, cutting him off.

Killian nodded, standing in the middle of the room for a moment longer before he left to see what Alice was up to. And Emma wondered, if perhaps, it had something to do with her, too.

-/-

Killian tried to concentrate on what Alice was talking about while he was playing tea party with her and her animals, but it was hard for his mind not to wander to the other blonde in his life. He observed her from the corner of his eye time after time, but all of her focus was on the book in front of her. He had tried to dismiss how her presence in his and Alice’s lives made him feel, but after their argument earlier, it was hard not to. While he knew what he told her had been true, and he would stand by it, it didn’t mean he was coming around to the idea that perhaps Alice needed more than just him. He wanted his daughter to develop proper social skills, and he tried his best to bring them about; but having Emma in their lives for just a month had been more beneficial to both of them than all their years of solidarity.

There was nothing wrong with being a single parent; but that shouldn’t mean that, given the chance, he should deprive Alice from having a strong female presence in her life. Isn’t that what parents are supposed to do - provide their children with every opportunity for an well-rounded life?

He sighed quietly, running his fingers through his hair. He ought to apologise to her for being harsh that morning; he was quick to become defensive when it concerned Alice. He had the chance to handle it better, but he let his anger take over. He waited until much later, when Alice had been put to bed and tucked in nice and tight. He found her sitting on the window ledge - it seemed to be her favourite spot - holding her hip flask. He had effectively reduced his drinking since Alice, apart from an occasional nip at the end of an especially trying day. But he wouldn’t begrudge Emma her drinking. He trusted her enough not to leave her alcohol just lying somewhere Alice could reach.

Killian cleared his throat, alerting Emma of his presence. When she didn’t immediately react, he thought she hadn’t heard him, but then she offered him her flask in lieu of an invitation. He grabbed it, and slipped next to her on the ledge, their shoulders brushing lightly. He took a small sip, wincing at the burn, and handed the flask back to Emma.

“Killian, I-”

“I’m so-”

They both began at the same time. Killian chuckled, gesturing for Emma to go first.

“I’m sorry for earlier this morning, Killian. I know nothing about being a parent; I sometimes find it hard to remember my own parents,” she huffed humorlessly. “I overstepped. I just - I made myself too comfortable here, with you and Alice. I shouldn’t have. This isn’t my family, and I shouldn’t pretend that it is.”

Killian desperately wanted to reach out to her, to protest. But he wanted to let her say her piece first. And so, he remained quiet, his hand clenched into a fist to stop himself from grabbing her hand.

“I forgot what I am here for. I’m here to help Alice, nothing more. I - um, I will stop interfering, I promise. I just,” she paused, sniffling slightly, looking up at the sky and trying to force her tears away. “Gods, I just felt like I was a part of something.”

Killian couldn’t hold himself back anymore, not when she was so clearly hurting and thinking that she did not belong with him and Alice. He swallowed at the lump in his throat and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her to him. “You stop that, Swan. You belong here, with us,” he whispered against her ear fiercely.

“Killian, you don’t have to say that,” she protested, wiping at her nose and trying to pull away from him. “I know I shouldn’t have said what I did this morning.”

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have. But that still does not change the fact that you’re now a part of this,” he whispered against her hair. “You’re doing so much for Alice. You care so much for her. You do not treat her like she’s different. You’re so good, Emma. My daughter needs someone like you around.”

Emma pulled away from his embrace, staring up at him with curious eyes. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying - I’m asking you to stay. Not just for now. But, after. After we get Alice out of here. Join us. We could mean something to you, Alice and I.” He saw her eyes widen in what he hoped was surprise, in a good way. “What do you say, Swan?”

Emma started to say something, but hesitated, her eyes searching his for any sign of uncertainty; he hoped all she could see was how sincere his offer had been. “Killian, I don’t know…”

“Why not, Emma? What’s stopping you?” he asked, silently imploring her to accept his offer.

Emma pressed her lips into a thin line, facing away from him again. “You said it yourself. I’m not her mother. I’m not your - I don’t know where I would fit.”

Killian did not miss her unspoken sentiment about them, but chose to ignore it. Alice needed Emma: it didn’t matter what he wanted with her. It shouldn’t. Now was not the time to talk about that, but there was other, more important information, that she needed to know. “I know you aren’t her mother. But Alice’s mother - she - ah, she-”

“You don’t have to tell me about her. I know she’s not here anymore. I assume it must have been horrible, for Alice to lose her mother,” Emma whispered, closing her hand over his.

Killian’s brows furrowed, extremely confused about Emma’s statement. Did she think Alice’s mother died? he wondered. What she said next only confirmed his suspicion.

Emma pressed her hand over the tattoo over Milah on his wrist, now covered by his shirt sleeve. “Milah, right? She was Alice’s mother?”

Killian did not know if he should laugh or cry. Oh, if only she knew. “No, not Milah. Emma, Alice’s mother is the one who trapped her in this tower. Gothel is Alice’s mother.”

Emma gaped at him, her hand slipping off his wrist. “She did this to her own blood?” Emma whispered brokenly. “She did this to Alice?”

Killian swallowed thickly, preparing himself to tell Emma everything.

-/-

Present Day: Land without Magic

“Well, Miss Swan, it looks like you’ve overexerted your heart. According to the chart that Dr. Riggs had sent over, you’ve very recently had heart surgery. Would you like to tell me what happened?” Dr. Altman asked as she listened to Emma’s heart for any other abnormalities.

“Like you said, I just overexerted myself, pushed myself doing too much, too fast,” Emma replied, smiling tightly at her doctor. “When can I leave?”

Dr. Altman looked taken aback, turning to shoot Killian a glance. Emma felt bad for him: he had no clue what was happening, and Emma could feel his worry for her and his guilt deep in her chest. When Killian did not offer any help, Dr. Altman shook her head. “Emma, you’ve had a very serious cardiac event. I would like to run some tests-”

“No,” Emma protested stubbornly. “Give me medication, or some home remedies. I am not spending any more time here than I already have.”

“Emma, that is not advisable,” Dr. Altman replied. “You need to be given the proper interventions.”

“That is not necessary. I would like to be discharged, please,” Emma said, ignoring the swell of confusion and anger she felt from Killian.

Dr. Altman stared at her incredulously, as if that would deter Emma. “I don’t think you understand how dire your situation is.”

Emma let out a long, deep breath, getting tired of the same health spiel from the doctors in this realm. “Dr. Altman, I felt a tightness in my chest for a few minutes, nothing more. But it passed and I feel fine now. I hope you can respect my wishes and discharge me.”

Dr. Altman looked like she wanted to argue further, but wisely decided against it. “Alright, but only if you agree to be discharged under the care of this young man here,” she told Emma, pointing to Killian.

He stood up straighter when he realised that the doctor was talking about him. He approached Emma’s bed, reaching for her hand. She could feel him relax slightly when she squeezed his hand in reassurance.

“I wouldn’t be doing my job if I don’t tell you that you are leaving here against my medical advice. It is not safe for you to leave, at least until I get your test results back, Emma.”

Emma groaned, knowing at this point that she had no choice but to listen to Dr. Altman. It would be better to know that everything was fine, then to fall in the middle of a battle. Emma would require all her strength to defeat Gothel. “Fine. Alright. I’ll stay until the results come back. You have one day, Dr. Altman.”

-/-

Emma reclined in her hospital bed, trying to get as comfortable as she could get in a scratchy hospital gown. Killian had gone to talk to her doctor and promised to return in a while. That was a good thing, because it gave her time to think.

She knew what the next step was: she had to get him to Merlin so that they could get rid of the Darkness once and for all. She had just one magic bean. If Alice were here, she would have made the same choice. All those years that the two women had struggled through, to try and find Merlin, and to free him - it would all be for naught if Gothel got her hands on the Dark One’s dagger. Emma had to make a tough decision, if only for Killian’s sake.

Killian walked through the door just then, with two cups of something wiggling and colourful and two spoons. He placed one of each on her tray and sat down next to her hip. “Hey, I spoke with Dr. Altman. She said she has put a rush on your test results. Now, you just have to sit tight. Have some jello,” he said, pointing his spoon at the goo in front of her. Emma made a face, her nose scrunching up in distaste.

“What in the seven hells is that?” she demanded, poking at it with her own spoon. “Jello?” she asked, imitating what he had said. But the word just felt strange in her mouth.

Killian chuckled at her confusion, but his expression quickly turned somber. “I can’t believe you’re in the hospital because of me, Emma. I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you.”

“Hey. Look at me,” she demanded, her hand cupping his chin. “You didn’t do this to me. I did. I was being reckless, and I paid the price. This is not your fault, alright?”

Killian sighed deeply, shaking his head at her. Whether in agreement or disagreement, she couldn’t tell. “So, my dreams...they were all real?”

Emma licked her lips, anticipating his next question and contemplating how she could possibly answer that. “Um, yes. At least the ones that you’ve told me about.”

“Ah.” He seemed to be debating with himself, before he finally asked her the inevitable. “In my other life, my real life, I guess,” he huffed out. “Do I - Do I have a daughter? Is her name Alice?”

Emma’s heart was in her throat and she felt sick to her stomach. How could I possibly do what I need to? she thought to herself. But she had to.

“Uh, no. No, you didn’t have a daughter. You don’t have any children.”

[sigurdjarlson]

We need to talk about Kevin fandom (tw: rape, abuse, pedophilia mentions)

this discourse gets me so pissy so here’s a vent post

(1) "They're coping mechanisms are unhealthy’ it's only unhealthy if it harms them or someone else. Ask any decent mental health professional.

(2) you don't get a say in someone's mental health. Maybe it is unhealthy for them but unless they're causing REAL harm to someone or they ask your opinion it's none of your business. You are not their mental health professional 

(3) using abuse/rape in fic to cope has been proven beneficial for many survivors. It's a way of taking back the power they've had taken away. There's a lot more to it as well.

(4) "you can only do this if it's for coping" how do you plan to enforce this rule? Force every single person to talk about their incredibly private traumatic experiences just so you seem whether or not it's okay for them to do something? I'm sorry that's disgusting. That's absolutely disgusting. 

(5) You do not speak for all survivors even if you are a survivor yourself. Your experience is not universal. Everyone's experience is different and everyone copes and reacts in different ways. I am one and I don't speak for all of us.. 

(6) it makes you uncomfortable? Okay!! That's alright. Totally understandable!! You want to police others because it makes you uncomfortable? No!! Not okay. 

(7) you have the responsibility to take care of yourself. There are steps you can take to avoid this kind of media. Trigger warnings, tags, summaries, blocking systems..those are all there for a reason. Please make use of them.

(8) "think of the children" this could be used for any kind of adult content. "Violent video games cause violence!" First off no they do not and also they come with ratings that blatantly say it's not for children. Its properly rated. It's not the creator of the game's fault if a child gets hold of it. To sum it up: that's the parent's job. I read erotic fic before I was 18 and it's not the author's fault lmao.

(9) "people will act it out" oh my god oh my goddd I can't stand this. No!! They won't. If they do? They already had very severe problems to begin with. It was not caused by this "problematic" piece of fic or art. Do NOT take the blame off the people that actively choose to hurt others by saying ~they read some problematic things so this must have caused it uwu~ you know what caused it? Them choosing to do the act. Most people have a healthy distinction between fiction and reality. 

(10) "this happened to me" I'm sorry you went through something like that. I truly am. But you still don't have the right to tell other people what they can and can't do. Take steps to protect yourself. No one else can do that for you. Your mental health is your responsibility and yours alone. You do not have the right to put that responsibility on complete strangers. It's not their job. The world cannot nor should it have to cater to you..

(11) "this thing makes me uncomfortable so therefore it must be bad and if it's bad the person writing it must be bad" is the logic here and it's incredibly faulty. Once again. Your experiences are not universal. Something that makes you uncomfortable might not make someone else feel uncomfortable. For things that have a tendency to make a lot of people uncomfortable there are these things called trigger warnings and warnings in general.

the person is not bad. They are not supporting or normalizing this behavior just by writing a fanfic. Are they saying "it's okay to rape people everybody should go out and do it"? No? then no they're not.

(12) fanfic, fanart, etc are such small medias that they don't effect or influence society In the way something like say "50 Shades of Grey" would. That's the stuff we should be concerned about and focused on criticizing. It's blatant misinformation.

(13) if half the effort people put into these crusades against ships was used to help actual survivors..there would be a lot of good being done in the world. These are fictional characters. We joke around a lot but you don't have to protect them. They are not real. Real people are more important than fictional ones. So, please if you spend so much time and effort on these things, channel that energy into something good and positive instead of harassing and harming real people on the internet over /fictional things/.

(14) “Fiction effects reality.” You’re right it does. However it does not directly cause these bad things. It’s what people choose to do with fiction that matters. Choices. Choices. Choices. 

(15) Fiction does not have to be pure. Fiction has always been a platform where people can explore the darker things in life. It’s interesting to some people. Personally I like a lot of dark shit because it’s interesting. It’s so incomprehensible to me that people can do these awful things that I find it interesting to explore why these people may have done them through fiction. 

(16) Liking something in fiction does not mean you support it. I’d hate most of the fictional characters I absolutely adore if they were real. 

(17) Some of the kindest people I’ve ever met are part of problematic fandoms and some of the worst are the people who scream that they’re trying to protect the world from that problematic fandom. You see there’s no correlation between what you like in fiction and what kind of person you are in real life. You know what is a great indicator of what kind of person you are? How you treat real, live people and the choices you make.

(18) I get it. These things elicit very strong emotions in people and for very valid reasons but that does not mean it should not be allowed to exist. Like I said it is your responsibility to create your own safe space. Blacklist/block/unfollow do whatever to keep those things out of your space. And...Don’t go looking for these things god damn it? If you see (tw: rape) and then go into the fic anyway and get upset? That’s not the author’s fault. They put the proper warnings in place. You ignored them. 

If there isn’t a proper warning. Perhaps consider kindly asking them to put some up? Maybe they forgot. It happens. People make mistakes.. If they refuse to do so they’re kind of a dick but it’s better to just ignore/unfollow/avoid/block that person and move on. 

(19) Lets make a summary.

You are responsible for your own safe space and taking care of your mental health.

Fiction does not CAUSE bad things to happen. People who choose to do those bad things do.

“This upsets me” does not = “it’s bad and shouldn’t exist and the person making this thing is bad” your logic is faulty m8

If something is properly tagged and has the proper warnings then it’s not the author’s fault if others ignore it and get upset. They did their part.

Fictional characters are not real. You don’t have to protect them. Harming real people over fictional ones is absolutely reprehensible. 

It’s no one’s job to parent other people’s children. No, children shouldn’t be looking at this content but it’s the parents’ job to keep their children away from those things. (proper warnings, tags, etc are important too but that itself is not a guarantee) 

Liking something in fiction does not = supporting it, condoning it, normalizing it. It just means you like something in fiction. Most people have a healthy distinction between fiction and reality. If someone does act on it..they already had very severe issues to begin with. 

Survivors are never obligated to reveal their personal experiences in order to be “allowed” to consume or make certain things. 

A coping mechanism is only unhealthy if it’s hurting the person or others. (it’s not hurting anyone by existing) It might not be healthy for you but that does not mean it’s not healthy for that person. AND it’s not your job or place to decide whether or not something is healthy or unhealthy for a person unless you are their mental health professional. Stay in your lane.

People don’t have to be using it as a coping mechanism! Maybe something really is just their kink. Maybe they find it interesting or whatever. Who cares as long as they’re not out doing it in real life. Who cares as long as they have a healthy distinction between what is okay in fiction and what is okay in real life. Mind your own business honestly.

I think some of these people really do have good intentions. They think they’re helping the world or others somehow. But having good intentions does not mean you are right. Be aware of what you’re doing and how it’s effecting others. Channel all the energy you put into hating things into doing something good in the real world. Or use it to create and enjoy things you do like or enjoy. Why focus on the things you hate?

And some of these people don’t have good intentions. For some it’s just a self righteous circle jerk. It makes them feel better about themselves. It’s a “I’m more morally enlightened than you” contest. These people don’t care about the issues they claim to care about or the people involved. They just want to make themselves feel good by making others feel bad. And that? That’s horrible.

They’re just using serious issues as buzzwords (which takes away the impact that word makes and THAT is a bad thing) Rape, pedophilia, abuse, etc. These are very, very serious issues. 

When people roll their eyes when they see someone claiming “pedophilia’ because there are people on here seriously accusing people of being pedophiles for shipping a 17 year old with an 18 year old or shipping some characters with an age gap? 

(which for the record. Talking about people who are of age and with a partner that’s significantly older than them. it’s untrue that all relationships with an age gap are unhealthy. is there a possibility for it to be unhealthy? certainly but that’s not a guarantee that it is. Your experiences are not universal. Every situation and every person is different.)

There’s a problem because you’re making people take these things less seriously. Have you ever heard the story of the boy who cried wolf? 

You do that and sadly no one will listen when you actually find something to worry about. Is that right? No. But it’s the truth. No one will take you seriously.

You don’t accuse people of these things willy nilly. You can ruin people’s lives. Are they doing those things in real life and hurting real people? Do you have solid proof that they are? Yes? (Fictional media is not proof unless they admit to doing something) By all means step in and get the authorities involved. That’s absolutely awful.  Is it just fiction? Take a step back, block/unfollow/blacklist and move on. 

What people do in real life matters. That’s it. That’s the key. Stop harassing people over fictional crap because THAT...shows what kind of person you are and it’s not a good one.