#granted I imagine he probably looks a lot like his teen self except with a shitty beard

[cha1cedony]

Just mouthed ‘aww’ to myself while writing about a grown ass man snoring. Mortifying. I need to explode

[welllpthisishappening]

On This Night and in This Light (3/3)

Emma Swan knows she’s pretty good at what she does.

Helping the magically afflicted and affected find jobs in this realm isn’t the most glamorous thing in the world, and, sure, there’s a lot of paperwork, but she figures she’s helping people and that’s the important thing. It’s structured. Calm, even.

Until. It’s always until.

Killian Jones shows up with his stupid smirk and his tendency to lean against the door frame in Emma’s office and his distinct lack of magic. Or knowledge of what they’re really doing at Mills Personnel. Everything kind of goes off the rails after that.

—-

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 6.5K of magic and eventual happily ever after

AN: There’s some magic here. Some kissing. Some curses. And happily ever after, of course. Thanks for reading along with this little distraction from the legitimate stress of the real world. You guys are all an absolute delight.  

Also on Ao3 if that’s how you roll || Or start from the top

—-

“Are you good?” Tilting her head up to meet Killian’s vaguely crinkled forehead and passably confused expression, Emma almost regrets the question she didn’t plan on asking. That’s the problem with him. And them, at least in the abstract sense. 

Words tumble out of her without much thought to their meaning or collective, if not slightly metaphorical, weight. Defenses she’s spent a lifetime cultivating feel as if they’ve crumbled at her feet, which is impressive since she’s laying down, but the metaphor still checks out and Emma keeps asking questions. 

Without being wholly afraid of the answers she’ll get. 

“Be more specific,” Killian murmurs, and her heart does something stupid. Skips a beat. Sparks her magic. Threatens to leave her glowing in the tangle of sheets she’s absolutely stolen in the middle of the night. 

“Just—I mean with everything.” Nosing at her cheek, Emma can practically hear Killian’s smile. “‘Fraid that’s not any more specific, my love. But if we’re going to speak in the abstract before coffee—” “—Oh, we should make coffee.” He kisses her cheek, that time. “Then I am exceptionally good.” “Pretty vast adverb.”

“Well, you asked a very broad question. But I stand by my answer, particularly when you’re not wearing any clothing. Why, am I giving off not-good vibes?” “Maybe lame ones if you keep using the word vibe in actual conversation. I just—I don’t know, wanted to make sure, I guess. Working for Mills isn’t exactly the height of luxury and it can be a weird place, and I...we never really looked at apartments for you, because we can do that if you want to, but—” Stumbling over the words, Emma wishes her hands were free. She’d like to wave them around. Use them as a distraction to whatever has settled on her face and in the pit of her stomach, and this wasn’t really the plan. Granted, the plan occurred while she was overly exhausted and reeling a bit from rather large emotional realizations, but telling him the truth about absolutely everything is suddenly a bit more daunting in the light of day. 

And they haven’t even had coffee yet. 

Killian’s hand moves. Faster than Emma’s entirely ready for, his fingers brush a strand of wayward hair away from her eyes and then he’s kissing the bridge of her nose and pulling her against his chest and—

“This was not my plan. In some great expectation for my life, I’m not sure I could have ever imagined this is what it’d be like. But,” Killian adds, as soon as Emma’s magic shifts into something far closer to dread, “if all of this ended with your freakishly cold feet waking me up every morning, then I can’t be very upset about it.”

Swooning pre-coffee can’t be advisable. Emma’s heart doesn’t care. It flips and flops and does that possible explosion thing again, and she’s a little concerned the force of her smile will have adverse effects on the paint in her bedroom. 

“You don’t think Mills is weird?” “Do you?” Emma shakes her head. “Nah, no questions for questions. This is—” “—An inquiry?” Her shoulders slump. Under the blankets, and she’s really got a shit ton of blankets. “I don’t know, Swan. Mills is...a place, a job. One where you work, and that’s mostly why I’m interested in continuing to work there. Should I not be thinking that?” The last few words come with a bit of understandable concern and maybe a hint of frustration, and she should have said something earlier. 

It’s very frustrating to realize how much smarter the part-time cricket is than Emma.

She hopes he’s enjoying his job, too. 

“My feet aren’t really that cold.”

Killian scoffs. “I promise, they are like little ice cubes attached to your legs.” “Lucky you’re here to provide external heat, then.” 

Burrowing her face closer to the crook of his neck, Emma gives herself a moment to relish in that warmth, like he’s some sort of personal sun or a battery or another bit of science she doesn’t understand and David always likes to say that science is just explained magic. Emma wonders if it works the other way, too. 

Magic is something that simply hasn’t been explained yet. No rational reasoning, or anything except the kind of gut feeling that can change everything. 

“I am,” Killian says, and it probably isn’t meant to sound like a promise. “Are you good?” Dots of light appear behind Emma’s eyelids every time she blinks, trying to come up with an answer that won’t send him running and she doesn’t know what she’ll do if he runs. Energy prickles at the tips of her fingers, curling around either one of her wrists and lingering in the slight bend of her left elbow because at some point her left palm has flattened itself against Killian’s stomach. “Mills can be kind of weird,” Emma mutters, trying to pick her words more carefully now. “And that’s...there’s a reason for that, and a reason I started working there and—” A phone starts vibrating. 

Loudly enough that it also immediately falls from the nightstand it was charging on, and keeps buzzing around on the floor. Killian sighs. 

“Hold that thought.”

Emma wishes she could. But her hands are already back underneath the blankets, and she’s all too aware of how bright they’ve gone in the last few seconds and the state of Killian’s shoulders make it obvious he’s not all that pleased with whatever he’s being told. “Yeah, yeah, I can—I mean, it’s like twenty blocks the wrong way, but—God, yes, Scarlet. I can come back for a few minutes.”

He doesn’t bother to plug the phone back in, and for like a solid half second Emma gets distracted by the lack of clothes before her eyes fly up and Killian’s sighing again and the weight in the pit of her stomach grows. 

“Coffee later?” Emma blinks. “Sure. Is everything ok?” “No idea, just that Scarlet said he had to talk to me and it couldn’t wait and—” Killian shrugs, fingers finding the back of his neck. “I probably won’t be that late, but if Regina asks—” “—I’ll tell her.” Something tugs at the back of her mind, a warning Emma can’t place, but she can sense a lie with almost startling accuracy and she knows Killian isn’t lying to her. She just can’t figure out why Will would lie to him. 

Halloween’s not her favorite day. 

People assume all magical and mythical creatures thrive on this one day of the year, but more often than not Emma finds that it’s just another busy day when those same magical and mythical creatures come out of the metaphorical woodwork in droves to get jobs. And sure, some of the rumors are true. There are certain times when the fabric between realms can be a bit more flimsy than usual. Both midnights, for example. Eleven-eleven’s another big one. So, teenage girls had that one right, at least. 

And yeah, ok, Halloween also means Regina bakes half a dozen apple pies for the whole office, but when the whole office is already overrun by inquiring applicants, Emma can’t find it in herself to be very excited for a dessert she only kind of likes. 

She’d never admit that to Regina. 

Self-preservation instincts, and all that. 

Plus, days like this are always cold. Fraught with that certain nip in the air, and leaves that crunch under Emma’s boots. Only to also get stuck to the bottom of Emma’s boots, and she has to twist her wrist to get rid of her leaf-based trail on her way to her paperwork-covered desk. 

The same one David’s leaning against. 

“You tell him yet?”

She missed one leaf. Figures. Emma never even went trick-or-treating as a kid. Halloween’s a sham. “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.” “Sure you don’t. It’s dumb that you haven’t yet.” “Voice your opinion a little louder, please.” “Nothing is going to happen,” David says, but Emma barely hears over the sound of sudden and complete disagreement that scratches its way from the depths of her soul. Maybe Halloween makes her a little maudlin, actually. She can’t believe she didn’t get to tell him. “It hasn’t yet.” “Why are you jinxing things like that?” “There is no such thing as jinx, and c’mon, if you guys can get through today with a hundred magically unemployed people, then sky’s the limit.” “Not even clever.” David shakes his head. “You’re impressed and swayed, I know it. Plus it’s not like you’re a bad witch or anything.” “I’m sorry, a bad witch?” “Yeah, you know. None of your intentions, even when lying to the guy you’re stupid into—” “—Opinions keep coming fast and furious, don’t they?” “Because he’s right,” Ruby calls, twisting around desks to involve herself in a conversation Emma doesn’t want to participate in anymore. “You really didn’t tell him yet? That’s nuts. And you’re a good person, Em. With a very good looking face. Who wouldn’t want to make out with that? Ad nauseum.” “I’m going to be honest, using a word that sounds like nauseous isn’t helping your case much,” Emma says. “And I’m going to tell him. I am, just—things got crazy this morning.” Ruby howls. With laughter. Drawing more than a few curious stares, and rather pointed glare from Regina’s direction. David pales noticeably. “Did they?” Ruby presses. “How crazy are we talking and was it also vaguely acrobatic, because I feel like Jones could move if he had to, but that’s strictly theorizing on my part, so—” Sentences without end are quickly becoming Emma’s least favorite thing. Only slightly edging out ringing phones. The one on her desk lights up, which doesn’t happen very often, but she can’t imagine the light is supposed to be green. 

David’s talking. She’s dimly aware of it — the soft hum that sounds more like Charlie Brown’s teacher than any of the human characteristics Emma is certain they both have, and that’s another quasi-Halloween reference. Rocks appear to have landed rather forcefully in her stomach, and that’s what she gets for optimism. 

“Swan,” Killian breathes, as soon as she pulls the phone to her ear. “Swan, Emma listen to me, you can’t—” Seriously, the lack of sentence structure is becoming intolerable. Killian grunts, the sound turning into a gasp almost immediately and a few shouted no, no, no leave them alone and Emma doesn’t remember standing. 

Only that she’s knocked her chair over in the process. 

“Is this Ms. Swan?” a new voice Emma almost recognizes asks. “Because it seems I’ve got something of yours, while you have something I’m particularly interested in. Let’s make a little exchange, shall we?”

It’s disappointing that her mouth goes dry. Emma assumes that’s because she’s all but panting, bent awkwardly over her desk while her eyes scan the room for something or someone and—it clicks. The voice. 

“Zelena. This is Zelena, isn't it?” Both David and Ruby make matching noises of disbelief, but the buzzing is back and Regina is moving and the line’s gone dead anyway. “She’s not supposed to be here,” Regina says with enough calm that it grates on every single one of Emma’s already-fraying nerves, “magical control sent her back to Oz.” Emma can’t cope with this. Any of it. All she wanted was to drink coffee with her decidedly human and very normal, if not ridiculously attractive boyfriend and they’ve never actually used relationship qualifiers. 

That’s disappointing. 

“Right, right, yeah, ok, of course” Emma mumbles, and she doesn’t bother to fix her chair. “Happy fucking Halloween, I guess.”

It takes her all of five minutes and one person dressed in costume to realize that running is absolutely and completely pointless. 

Emma’s a goddamn witch.

And it’s raining. 

Drops slide down her temples, drip down the back of her neck and work under her jacket because she never even got the chance to take her jacket off. Which is something of an exceptionally small miracle now, but she’s already cold and she’s always so fucking cold and—

He called her Emma. 

He called her—

“My love,” she whispers, entirely to herself and that part isn’t really true. Shadows hover just outside the edge of her vision, what Emma knows are her friends waiting for instructions or a plan, and she’s got to come up with a plan and she doesn’t know where Belle and Will live. 

She doesn’t have to. 

Reaching her hand back, Emma’s fingers lace through Regina’s, and her soft instruction of “all instinctual,” doesn’t get lost in the hum of the city or the bustle of a holiday that requires masks and chocolate-based gluttony. It takes root. In Emma’s mind, and those same pieces of her soul, finds the tiny bits of space between her stomach rocks and spreads out from there. 

Warming her from the inside out. 

She closes her eyes. 

“What the fucking fuck?” Will shouts, Emma’s feet slamming into hardwood floor that was probably highlighted in this apartment listing. Eyes bugging, he’s plastered to the wall opposite her, and Emma’s pleasantly surprised to find he’s not gagged, but she also kind of figures it’s because Belle is and there’s something inherently villainous about allowing the love interest to make noise while their partner is being tortured. 

By a woman wearing a pointed witch’s hat. “Kind of cliché, isn’t it?” Ruby muses, and Emma’s not surprised they’ve started their rescue mission with sarcasm. She also can’t respond. Her eyes are too busy trying to take in the scene. 

Stacks of books litter the floor, half the living room furniture on its side as if it’s been knocked over in a fit of inevitably-magical rage, and Belle doesn’t look as scared as annoyed that she’s been bound in one of the few upright chairs. Emma’s heart stutters. Catching her breath is impossible, head on a swivel as she tries to find—

“Killian,” she exhales, and he’s not gagged either. No visible restraints keep him a few feet away from Will, but Emma can feel the magic rippling off him and it smells strongly of bitter lemons. Or expired key lime pie. 

Neither of those things are inherently Halloween, or all that magical. But then Zelena’s turning slowly and the green splotches on her face ensure any attempts at passably funny metaphors or desperate attempts to maintain her sense of reality disappear. 

“Huh,” David says, “that’s new, actually. We ever see anyone change color before?”

Regina clicks her tongue. “She’s not changing color. She’s giving in.” “To what, exactly?” “Jealousy. Isn’t that right, Zelena? Been the crux of the problem forever, hasn’t it?”

Emma’s head is spinning. She’s not moving. “Wait, wait, what the fuck is going on?” One side of Killian’s mouth tugs up, amusement in his gaze and that can’t possibly be right. “You are stuck to the wall, idiot!’ “Oh, Swan, you do know how to flatter a man.” “What is happening?” He can’t shrug, but Emma knows he tries and that should not be as charming as it is. Mary Margaret squeezes her hand. The one that’s almost neon. “Turns out Scarlet didn’t actually want to talk to me this morning. We definitely could have had coffee.” “Is that a euphemism for—” Ruby starts, only to snap her jaw closed when Regina gapes at her. Emma’s starting to lose feeling in her fingers. 

And she sees the exact moment any sense of teasing and entirely false bravado leaves Killian. Lips going thin, his shoulders still don’t move, but Emma swears his fear reverberates through her and that’s not the emotion she was interested in sharing that morning. “You’ve got to get out of here, love. Now, it’s—” Zelena’s hand moves so quickly, it’s not much more than a passably-green blur. Nothing else comes out of Killian’s mouth. His jaw moves, working against a shield none of them can see, and Emma’s stomach is somewhere in the vicinity of her throat. 

Even with all those rocks. 

“How did you get back here?” Regina asks, stepping towards the front of their ragtag group. Fire bursts from her hands, flames that flicker up her forearms and draw another grunt out of Will. Whether it’s surprise or just the generic sound of being impressed, Emma’s not sure. 

Bits of green cling to the end of Zelena’s mouth when she smiles. “Shall I start at the beginning, then?” “God yes, please,” Emma sighs. 

Zelena doesn’t take her hat off. Really, she’s almost making it work for her. As far as costumes go, this one’s kind of basic, but there’s no cape or a broomstick and Emma’s never met a witch who was interested in flying a broom anywhere. 

“Wanted to stay conspicuous, you understand,” Zelena says, “Draw too much attention to myself and—ah, well, that’s not what’s important now.” “What?” “Why you, Emma Swan. Obviously.” “This isn’t the beginning,” David mumbles, and both Emma and Regina shift before Zelena can so much as lift her chin. One of the windows on a different wall flies open, half a dozen pigeons descending on the living room and nipping at the ends of Zelena’s hair. They pull on the sides of her dress and peck at the green spots that are growing on her cheeks. 

Whistling, Mary Margaret jerks her head and the pigeons fly away, looking a little like an avian synchronized swimming team. “Leave him alone.”

“Shit,” Ruby says, “that was impressive and aggressive. Ignore the rhyme.”

Emma tilts her head. “Slant rhyme, right? Can’t rhyme matching sounds.” Someone makes a noise — it comes from the general direction of Killian and Will, but it can’t be Killian and Emma wants it to be him anyway. Zelena doesn’t look very impressed with any of them. That’s fair, it’s probably frustrating to have your monologue interrupted so often. 

“If you don’t mind,” she sneers, Emma waving her free hand like she’s capable of giving the bad guy permission to keep talking. “It had been quite some time since I’d been in this realm, and plenty of things had changed. More magic, a certain kind of power that hung in the air. Energy that could change the course of everything, strong enough that it could probably rewrite time itself if it wanted to. And I want it to.” “To what?” “Were you not listening? Rewrite time.”

Breathing out of her mouth is not attractive. It’s loud and makes Emma’s tongue feel larger than it actually is, especially when she has to keep using it to lick her lips. “That’s—that’s insane. You’re insane. You didn’t just want to get a normal job? I mean...you were at Mills. I saw you.” “Power of the Universe at my fingertips and you think I’d be satisfied with a normal job? No wonder you have no idea what you are. Which,” Zelena glances meaningfully at Killian, “means you, Emma Swan, are the reason I’m here.” “Speak English!” Zelena huffs. “I am. What I felt when I returned to this realm? It was you, my dear. Your power, your magic, your ability. And, yes, I could have given into the hum-drum existence of this place and the structure of Mills Personnel, but where exactly is the fun in that?”

Emma hopes she’s not expected to answer. She doesn’t have one. It’s entirely possible she’s going to snap several of Mary Margaret’s fingers in half. 

“Anyway,” Zelena continues, “locating that power wasn’t easy, but Regina Mills’ ability to make things happen is legendary. Finding a person’s niche, that’s her greatest talent. And so I did come to Mills, looking for a position that would help me get the rest of the requirements.”

Ruby keeps shaking her head. Emma can’t seem to move. Or breathe. Her eyes keep darting back towards Killian, trying to make sure he’s breathing or reacting in a way that doesn’t threaten to make her cry. Nothing. 

He’s plastered to a wall with magic, of course not. 

“You see, a time spell is one of the more complex out there. Need all sorts of things in addition to the kind of magic that can fuel it. Which is what I wanted when I got to Mills. Hoped I could get placed in a hospital or something of the sort.”

On the increasingly small scale of things that surprise Emma, that somehow makes the cut. “You need, like, an IV drip or something?” “A baby,” Zelena replies easily, and Belle whimpers against the gag. “Pure of spirit, you understand. Other things too. Courage, wisdom, maybe a heart if I could get lucky—” “—An actual heart?” Will balks. “Spend a lot of time in Wonderland, did ya?” “I mean, she could probably get the heart in the hospital too if she wasn’t picky about her choices,” Ruby reasons, and this whole thing is absurd. Maybe that’s the theme for Halloween as a whole, though. 

More of Zelena’s face is green. 

“I had hoped I’d get someone competent who could help me. Or even the source of the power. Naturally,” she jerks her head in Killian’s direction, “I ended up with this sot. Who suggested working at a clinic or agreeing to something called an orderly position. Well, I knew he wouldn’t help me, but I did get something out of it. I knew you were there, Emma. And—” Zelena’s eyes rove towards Belle, and the hands collapsed over the front of her stomach. Realization crashes over Emma in waves, the rocks disappearing only to be replaced with a bone-deep chill that douses any bit of light in her. “So I do have a few options for you all now.” “What are you trying to fix?” “Hmm?” “Fix,” Emma repeats, “or change, I guess. I mean—that’s not how life works.” Zelena hums in what can only be passing interest and something almost like an agreement. “Seems unnecessary to tell you my whole plan, but when it works it won’t make much of a difference. I want to get rid of the girl. That nasty little thing that fell in Oz and ruined everything. Robbed me of my chance to prove myself, claimed there had to be good witches and bad witches and you’re absolutely right, Ms. Swan. That’s not how life works. Nothing is quite so cut and dry as all that.”

Words hang off the tip of her disgustingly dry tongue. Want to be said and proclaimed, and for all the mistakes Emma has made — good and bad, right and wrong, trusting and the opposite, she’s happy to find she’s not particularly interested in changing them. 

Not if she ends up here. 

Well, maybe not here—with her boyfriend, they’ll get to that eventually, magically silenced and Belle doing her best to glare daggers at the half-green witch who commandeered her living room, and Ruby’s teeth are definitely getting longer. But maybe here-adjacent. With people who care about her, who followed her without question or thought and the guy who is still somehow staring at Emma like he’s got every intention of keeping her feet warm. 

Ad nauseum. 

“I’m not really interested in anything you need.”

Disappointment flashes across Zelena’s face, only to immediately morph into something much closer to fury. “Hero types, always so sanctimonious. That’s why I said several options. It’s one now, but—” Flicking her wrist, Killian slides down the wall in what Emma knows isn’t actually slow motion. Still, the amount of time it takes for his knees to crash to the ground seems to last forever and Zelena doesn’t try to stop Emma from rushing forward. 

Eventually, she’ll realize why. 

“Regina discovered what I was trying to do,” Zelena explains, “my fault. Kept coming back to Mills, demanding better placement and as much as it pains me to admit she’s smart...well, she sent me back to Oz.” “So how are you here?” Mary Margaret demands.

Emma doesn’t need that answer, either. Halloween is a bullshit, overrated holiday. Pulling Killian close to her, he’s far too limp and impossibly silent, and Emma barely spends a moment thinking about either of those things before she’s kissing anywhere she can reach, mumbling apologies and half-explanations into his skin and—

“Ah, I’d be careful if I were you,” Zelena says, a soft lilt to her voice that rattles down Emma’s spine. “See, your option is to give me your magic, Ms. Swan. If you won’t do it willingly, I’ll take it by force.” “I don’t—” 

Movement catches Emma’s attention, the soft flutter of fingers across her back and she has absolutely no idea what he’s doing. At first. All it takes is a few seconds, and that’s probably another sign. She hopes so. Tracing letters on her jacket, Killian’s eyes flutter shut like he’s exhausted and determined not to sleep and— “No,” Emma exhales, but Zelena’s smile looks victorious. It’s too late. They’re too late. And there’s nothing they can do to change that. 

Slumping against her, Killian’s eyes don’t open again. His breathing evens out, and Emma supposes that’s something of a very twisted victory because he isn’t dead, but he’s even more obviously sleeping and sleeping curses are notoriously hard to break.

“Especially when they so often require a kiss,” Zelena grins. “True Love, and all that. So let me ask, Ms. Swan. Do you think what you and the plebe have is True Love and, more importantly, will you be willing to sacrifice your magic for it? Because the only way he’s waking up is with a kiss and the next time you kiss him, you’ll lose your magic.”

To suggest that it kind of all goes to shit after that is something of an understatement. 

Light pours out of Emma, unsteady legs under her even as she juts her chin out. To her credit Zelena doesn’t back down. She stands there and she turns a bit more green, and magic is so goddamn weird. Emma’s also never been in a magic fight before. 

Spending so long hiding that part of her — certain it was going to be the reason everyone left, the opportunity never really presented itself. Fighting for the sanctity of time itself and Killian’s consciousness seems as good a reason as any to flip the script, so to speak. 

Heat races through Emma, wind swirling at her ankles as frames clatter to the ground. Shards of glass fly on the manufactured breeze, Mary Margaret darting towards Belle and David sprinting towards Will, and it’s something of a confidence boost when they’re both able to pull them away from the battle. 

Although Emma can’t really believe she thought the word battle, even in her head. 

“Not exactly the magical dominance you were bragging about, huh?” Emma quips, twirling a finger in the air. Bands of light circle Zelena’s calves, twist up her legs and turn her answering laugh into a gasp that also does dangerous things to Emma’s ego. 

“I never—” Zelena grunts, twisting against bonds that don’t even flicker. “—You were the powerful one, I thought I made that blatantly obvious.” “I mean,” David shrugs. 

Ruby nods. “She did kind of, Em. That’s true.” “Whose side are you on?” Emma snaps, but the retreat back to absurd is almost comforting in a familiar, banter-filled sort of way. 

“Please,” Regina sighs. Her hands are on fire. “That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said, and I know you claimed you didn’t have to tell Killian the truth before.” “Yeah, well, cat’s pretty much out of the bag on that front, don’t you think?” “Flew out on pigeon’s wings, I think.”

Laughter has no place in a moment when Zelena’s entire face has turned green, and her own fireballs are threatening at her palms, but Emma can’t help herself and maybe the dumbest thing she’s ever done was suggest Killian shouldn’t have worked at Mills. Or that she couldn’t be head over heels in love with him. 

That helps, honestly. 

“You’re not getting my magic,” Emma announces, all too sure she sounds as ridiculous as she feels. Heroic soliloquies are also overrated, it seems. “And you’re not getting Killian or—God, were we actually talking about Dorothy that whole time?” Zelena snarls. That must be the response. 

“Well, you’re not getting her either. Sneaking back here on Halloween was dumb. Trying any of this was ridiculous and threatening Killian was the worst of all your ideas. Because—” Emma takes a step forward. Nothing shakes. If anything her knees almost lock out, the hair falling over her shoulders noticeably brighter than usual and Zelena recoils. Seriously, her confidence is through the roof. “Magical job placement might be boring, and it might have a shit ton of paperwork, but it’s also a chance to help people and that’s...that’s the point, isn’t it? Finding that sense of belonging? Giving a person a chance. Being able to—” “—Fall in love,” Mary Margaret cries, scrunching her nose when Regina and Ruby shush her. “I mean…that’s what it is, isn’t it? Love’s not a weapon. It makes Emma glow.” And that makes Emma curse. “Maybe we phrase it differently?”

“Maybe we worry about language once we actually defeat the witch, huh?” Regina challenges, and that seems like a legitimate plan. 

Balls of fire fly through the air. Ricochet off Emma’s lights, and every window flies open as Mary Margaret calls upon not only pigeons but what look like several sparrows and a few nightingales if the sounds they’re making is any indication. Leaves swirl around the room, partially from the actual wind and also from whatever Emma is apparently capable of. 

A lot more than she thought, honestly. 

Warmth rises in her spine, sets her shoulders in a straight and determined line and she gives Will an appreciative smile when he pulls Killian out of the fray. Only to immediately jump back in, ducking and twisting and there’s a lot more cardio involved than she thought, but then a flash of magic nearly singes her ear and Emma’s thankful for her own agility.

She moves. Refuses to back down, ignoring the growing ache in her muscles and the weird popping thing her hip is doing. And Zelena starts to cower. In an especially villain-type of way.

Backing into the nearest wall, she stumbles over her feet as light tightens around her. It pins her arms to her side, curls around her ankles and guarantees she can’t run away when Emma stalks forward. 

With a smile on her face. 

Oz authorities appear at eleven-eleven, which seems to suggest it is somehow still morning and Emma cannot rationalize that at all. 

They thank Emma for containing the fugitive, nod towards Regina and well—that’s that. Leaving the rest of them in a slightly singed apartment with pillows that somehow haven’t burst, and what feels like a distinct lack of oxygen. 

“So,” Will drawls, “what do we do now?” He doesn’t have to look at Killian. The still-sleeping form is the far-more-attractive-than-an-elephant elephant in the room, draped across a couch that David had to lift on his own. One of his feet is hanging over the side. “True Love’s Kiss isn’t a real thing,” Emma whispers, but the words taste like ash on her tongue and Regina makes a very obnoxious noise. 

“Dumb, dumb, dumb.” “Do you think I’ll lose my magic?” “Do you actually care?” Shaking her head, Emma doesn’t bother saying the words. Not when she knows they’re so obviously painted on her face and sudden realization is almost as annoying as not ending sentences. She knows what he was tracing on her back. 

Maybe she is the idiot, actually. 

And for a moment, Emma’s mind falters. Remembers that other moment, standing frozen as a different set of lights threatened to blind her and metal snapped around her wrists and she’d been so certain then. Never again. Nothing else would get through the defenses. No one else would know. No more mistakes. 

This isn’t a mistake. 

Careful to avoid the glass on the floor, Emma tiptoes forward and crouches next to Killian. She brushes her fingers over that scar on his cheek, the ends of lips that are somehow still tilted up into half a smirk and—

“God, just do it already,” Belle shouts. 

That’s that, again. 

Kissing at this angle isn’t particularly easy, and Emma’s knees aren’t particularly pleased with the amount of pressure she’s putting on them, but it does allow her to basically drape herself across Killian and that also makes it easier to get her hand under the hem of his shirt. And nothing else really happens. 

No sharp inhale. No tilt of his head. Absolutely no sign of his tongue, which Emma has come to find herself almost obsessed with in the last few months. She doesn’t care. Doesn’t allow herself to stop, not when there’s a flicker of hope and all that want simmering between her ribs, mixing with her magic and how ridiculously in love she is and it’s annoying that she’s the one who gasps. 

As soon as arms circle her waist. 

Emma can’t really tumble when she’s above him, but the edge of the couch digs into her thighs and Killian’s doing an admirable job of trying to get her parallel to the rest of his body. Her fingers find his hair when he arches up, his own hand roving the expanse of her back before his arm curls tightly around her like he’s trying to make sure she’s still there. Leaning into her palm against his chin, Killian’s lips drag across the back of Emma’s wrist, sparking another round of magic and even more glowing. “Oh shit,” Emma mumbles, not able to pull herself away from Killian. Because of his arm. And...other reasons. 

“Was that a response to me, or—” “—No, no, I just—well, there’s still magic. I’ve still got magic. And, uh, I’m a witch.” He laughs. Throws his head back and lets his body shake under her, which really isn’t helping Emma’s state of mind at all, but she’s admittedly preoccupied with the overall volume of the laugh and how wide his smile is. “Swan, Emma love, did you honestly think I didn’t know?”

She—

Has absolutely no idea what to do with that. 

Ruby might fall over. Regina’s eyes bug, Mary Margaret using David to stay upright, Belle covers her mouth with her hand, Will cackling loud enough for the both of them. 

“Did you,” Emma starts, but Belle and Will shake their heads and Killian’s tongue click is awfully put-upon for a guy who was just cursed. 

He taps on her jaw until she’s able to look at him. And his stupid blue eyes. “I could feel it, love. Also you have a tendency to...glow. Which I'm assuming is a compliment, for me. Or us. There's an us, right?" She nods. Can't do much else. "And you’re not very subtle. Extra cinnamon in the cabinets, moving the remote so I don’t have to look for it. Working at a job placement agency that helps the magically afflicted. Plus there was paperwork. Was Freddie really a gold statue at one point?” “Yeah, but they un-statue’ed him with water from Lake Nostos. Not True Love’s Kiss.” “So we won, then?” “Competitive weirdo.” “Absolutely,” Killian nods. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I figured you’d get around to it at some point and then you were talking today and—” “—We’re not such shitty friends that we’d demand Killian show up back here before nine,” Will reasons. “Plus, it’s been kind of nice to have a free couch.”

Killian gags. “Did I say congratulations yet?” “We were busy.” “Wait, wait,” Emma sputters, and she’s going to go into cardiac arrest. Or magic overload. “So this whole time. You knew.” “Well, not the whole time,” Killian objects. “Most of it though, yeah.” “But you’re still here.” “Where else did you expect me to go? Aside from your apartment now that we’ve defeated the wicked witch? I’m assuming we defeated the wicked witch.” Emma nods. “Well, then I’ll apologize for drawing you into that, too. She was half the reason I started to suspect anything, honestly. Told Regina about her and the last thing I expected when I got here was to see her, or to have her demand I get you here. I tried to avoid that.” More nodding. More aching muscles and poorly performing hearts, and Emma wouldn’t mind if Killian traced several other sentiments into a variety of different areas, but they’ve got an audience and a pregnant lady and they never did get coffee. So, it makes sense to ignore that for a second. Or several. 

“I love you,” she says instead. Shouts, really. “More than I realized I could and I—” Any other words get lost in the feel of Killian’s mouth on hers and the ability of his tongue to incite butterflies in her stomach, and she hardly hears him say I love you back. It doesn’t matter. She hears it on loop for the rest of the day, once they’re ushered unceremoniously out of Belle and Will’s apartment. Neither of them think much about getting coffee. 

And she’s just on the cusp of sleep, eyelashes fluttering and blankets halfway to stolen when Emma hears something else. Pressed into that one spot below her ear. 

“I’ve got no intention of leaving,” Killian whispers, “not because of the magic or the power that comes with it, only because I love you. A ridiculous amount, honestly.”

Sleep seems kind of pointless after that. 

He decides to leave Mills, eventually. 

“I don’t have magic,” Killian rationalizes, and Emma supposes that makes sense. “But I will need some help finding a job.”

Sliding a file with his name written in swirling script across her desk, he’s got the gall to smirk at her and Emma resists the urge to magic him into her chair. “Luckily I do have other skills, including a job offer—” “—If you’ve got a job offer, you don’t really need my help.” “Yeah, but you’re very pretty and I hear you’re real good at what you do.” “Which is?” “Moving in with me,” Killian says, which isn’t the last thing she expects but it still manages to catch her off guard. Lights erupt at the end of several strands of hair. “The reaction I was going for, absolutely.” “No, no, that’s—that’s dumb.” “Is it?” “I was going to ask you to move in with me. First.” “Competitive weirdo.” “I have an apartment,” Emma argues. “With laundry on site.” “Ah, yeah, that is a marker in the pro column. Plus, you’ll be there right?” “In my apartment? Yeah, probably,”

Pushing back on the chair he’d never really been sitting in, Killian leans across Emma’s desk. To kiss her. Hard. Magic flares in the air around them, causing bulbs to flicker and more than a few cries of get a room . “What I’m trying to do,” Killian mumbles. “If you’re asking me to move in, Swan, I’m going to accept.” “Make it sound less like a warning next time.”

He chuckles against her mouth, either ignoring the desk that must be pressing into his stomach or not bothered by it at all, and Emma tries not to throw herself at him too quickly when he brings a whole box of recently-bought blankets with him.

“So you don’t get cold, love.”

[yeaahishowedupatyourparty]

MORE ABOUT MY NEXT GEN BABIES. 

Adelaide ‘Addy’ Maeve Coleman - daughter of Zara & Danny. 

- scars to your beautiful - alessia cara   - july 1st, cancer  - actress, studying at diamond bridge (LA) - bisexual with no preference, single  - esfp, hufflepuff  - raised in lilac heights in zara & danny’s home they live in now  - ditzy, naive, energetic but also sensitive and insecure. she has a tendency to let herself be walked all over by friends and lovers. she also lacks the confidence to really accept that she has talent and is capable of doing things.  - she was painfully desperate to be one of the popular girls in high school, to the point where she would let her “friends” treat her like dirt. even though she’s now in college, the effects of the underhand bullying stay with her and it makes her very reluctant to trust and open up to new people.

Allison ‘Ally’ Marie Cortes-Smith - daughter of Adrian & Holly. 

- seven - sleeping at last - august 13th, leo  - model & athletics (surfing, figure skating & dance), studying at gold coast (australia)  - heterosexual, dating brett jackson - entp, gryffindor  - raised in violet springs (?), in her family home with adrian and holly - energetic, outgoing, adventurous but also explosive and stubborn. ally is constantly looking for family-like connections away from holly, adrian and haley. she craves feeling like somebody’s first choice because - particularly with holly - she felt like the back-up plan until she got custody of haley. she has one song about her, whereas haley has enough for an EP of music with holly worshipping her and she’s just always felt that subtle favouritism in her household.  - from an early age, she’s sought out love in all of the wrong places but is currently in a good place with brett, who is definitely her safety net. she’d be lying if she said living in australia made her homesick. 

Aurora Faith Kingsley - daughter of Soraya & Julian.

- boss bitch - doja cat  - january 17th, capricorn  - fashion designer, studying at rosewell (paris)  - heterosexual, bisexual dating peter romano  - entj, slytherin  - raised in violet springs (?), in her family home with soraya and julian. she definitely has a dual-citizenship like soraya, though, and often spends summers in cuba with her grandparents.  - outspoken, confident, witty but also explosive, judgemental and harsh. aurora was definitely spoilt with love when being raised by her parents; both soraya and julian doted on her in different ways, and while she knows the value of materialistic things, she’s not entirely used to not getting her own way or not having people adore her. that being said, she’s a fiercely loyal friend and shows the love she was given when she was younger to people she thinks deserve it. - aurora’s expectations and standards are impressively high and she’ll always credit her parents, who always modelled a healthy and secure relationship to her. she doesn’t take it for granted & always strives to find people who treat her the same way julian treats soraya.

Belle Cynthia Carmichael - Daughter of Anastasia 

- donatella - lady gaga  - november 3rd, scorpio  - dancing & modelling, studying in west ivys (london)  - heterosexual, single  - esfp, slytherin  - raised partially in los angeles and also in lilac heights with anastasia and her father (divorced) as well as her older sister, darcy.  - aesthetic, good-humoured, magnetic but also irresponsible, self-indulgent and superficial. belle is the baby of the family and took a shine to the socialite los angles lifestyle from around 12 years old. she’s a big spender, loves the night life of any big city and is a BIG fan of the attention that being a rising star brings her. unlike her sister, who’s a lot more lowkey, belle demands attention and will do anything to get her own way in any situation. - everyone was expecting anastasia and ryder to split from their (what would have been) their fifteen year marriage. everybody except belle and darcy, anyway. the girls were caught off-guard and it wasn’t easy. belle had the most extreme reaction, becoming very emotional and self-indulgent. her way of dealing with it has been to do everything in her power to go against anything either of her parents ask of her; she’s definitely out of control.

Daisy Louise Romano, daughter of Florence & Dominic. (tw: cancer) 

- style - taylor swift  - may 22nd, gemini  - dance, studying at liberty (new york city)  - heterosexual, single   - isfp, gryffindor  - raised in violet springs (?) in dom and florence’s family home, but i imagine they have a family home in italy because of dominic’s roots too. florence and dom spend a lot of time in italy in general, so it’d make sense.  - creative, friendy, warmhearted but also over-protected, nervous and idealistic. daisy is the only daughter in her family and it definitely shows. on top of dominic, she also has carter and peter who have kept a close eye on her growing up and has definitely been protected from things other girls her age may have learnt to deal with themselves, or without as much back-up. rather than rebelling against it, she’s very comfortable & probably relies on her brothers - especially peter - for more than she should. she’s very rooted in family and while she’s a hopeless romantic and loves flirting, going on adventures and seeing the world, her heart is with her family. - daisy’s pre-teen years were snatched away by the fact that she was diagnosed with cancer. she spent three years of what would’ve been her high school life in hospital and was far too weak to dance or do anything she usually did. she was put into remission at 15 and was cancer free for three years before it made a return, now she’s nineteen (pushing 20), she’s once again in remission but her anxiety and trauma from the sickness are very much alive.

Darcy Briar Carmichael - daughter of Anastasia. 

- nothing breaks like a heart - miley cyrus  - february 27th, pisces  - modelling, studying at st judes (violet springs)  - bisexual, single - infp, ravenclaw - raised partially in los angeles and also in lilac heights with anastasia and her father (divorced) as well as her older sister, darcy. - patient, imaginative, loyal but also argumentative, guarded and defensive. darcy has always been wise beyond her years in the sense that she’s mature and has a responsible head on her shoulders. anastasia used to worry that she wouldn’t enjoy her early twenties/teen years in the same way everybody else seemed to, but it just never appealed to her - she preferred to lose herself in art, reading and individual activities rather than going out to huge parties and festivals like her sister. she’s quietly confident and is happy to be seen as the ‘boring’ one if it means not having to be forced to sit at social events she’d rather not be a part of.  - darcy’s confidence was knocked by her parent’s divorce. it actually ruined her application to blossom bell academy - where she wanted to go and do art and photography. she was unorganised and just a mess in general, so she knew she’d get rejected. st judes, her second choice, also rejected her art portfolio but because of her looks, offered her a modelling position. she figured it was better than nothing but it’s never been her passion. only now is she starting to feel inferior in comparison to her little sister.

Dixie Gisele Carmichael - daughter of Disney and Brody. 

- god is a woman - ariana grande  - october 1st, libra  - fashion design, studying at rosewell (paris) - heterosexual, single  - estj, slytherin  - raised in new york but spends the summers in france & christmas in violet springs to be close to grandparents  - confident, hard-working, charming but manipulative, calculated and jealous. dixie has grown up in the spotlight due to being the child of arguably the most famous couple to come out of st judes in her parents era. she’s very used to it and it’s something she’s numb too. however, unlike her sister, who seems to just get things a whole lot easier than dixie, she has clawed her way to the top of everything she has, not caring who she scratches on the way up; being the most popular, young socialite on the upper east side, her fashion career and everything else are things she’s had to fight for out of the threat of otherwise being branded as ‘fleur’s twin.’ she holds herself and others at a viciously high standard. she’s been on dates and enjoyed attention from guys but she hasn’t slept with anybody and has never had a boyfriend; it’s not something she hides either. her main goal right now is to become the best designer there is, and she’s proven that she’ll stop at nothing to get there. - while at gallagher high school, fleur was already booking modelling jobs and becoming the more successful of the twins. dixie resented it. she couldn’t stand feeling inferior or lesser than and wasn’t happy for her sister at all. quite the opposite. the two of them applied for rosewell but unfortunately for fleur, when their acceptance letters came through, she was out at new york fashion week, leaving dixie to reject her offer and forge a fake one telling her she’d been rejected....and she’d do it again.

Dylan Samuel Powell - son of Janey. 

- fine line - harry styles  - february 15th, aquarius  - photographer, studies at west ivys (london)  - heterosexual, dating lily  - infj, hufflepuff  - raised in sweden until he was thirteen, and then moved to violet springs to be closer to his family with janey.  - patient, practical and compassionate but over-protective, nervous and sensitive. dylan had a quiet childhood. when janey graduated from west ivy’s, she moved out to a rural part of sweden where she started a new. her life consisted of writing and exploring until she had dylan with a man who’s no longer in the picture. dylan fell into janey’s lifestyle too; quiet, peaceful and creative. he enjoyed it for the most part, but the trauma of janey’s experiences definitely became his too. he grew up seeing his mother have anxiety attacks in public or not want to leave the house if she had a feeling she was being watched. in many ways, dylan became the parent. he was the one who made his mother feel safe. he was the protector. he never really understood until he finally met his grandparents at 15 and was told exactly why janey was the way she was. this only brought out an even more protective side of him, after having his eyes opened to how disgusting the world can be. - dylan was reluctant to study anywhere too far away from janey, but she pushed him to branch out at least a little, because she has a lot of guilt about holding him back for al of these years. 

Emmett Charles Hamilton - son of Imogen & Nate. 

- go stupid - polo g  - april 12th, aries  - actor, studying at st judes (violet springs)  - heterosexual, single  - entp, slytherin  - raised in london (south kensington) with imogen and has always been a city boy. he’s your typical private school kid; his father has been out of the picture only for a few months but it hasn’t had much effect. his younger brother, ethan, chose to move in with nate while he stuck with imogen. - intelligent, intuitive, social but lazy, restless and unmotivated. out of emmett and ethan, emmett definitely takes the crown for the family disappointment. his brother’s childhood was full of sports trophies, A*’s on report cards and being at the top of the social hierachy. emmett, on the other hand, would’ve happily lived in his parent’s loft and never seen the light of the day if he could. he did pretty wel in school and had al of the potential, but a life of getting high and falling back on to his trust fund seemed way more appealing. imogen was more willing to let him coast through life (being from wealth herself), whereas nate was always pushing him to go out and make something of himself, meaning naturally he prefers his mother.  - emmett is in the process of burning through his trustfund. he’s impulsive and careless and without proper guidance, will soon find himself with nothing. he has no respect for his dad - who is the stricter parent - and thinks he’s invincible. 

Jay Alexander Hamilton -  son of Park. 

- tonight you’re perfect - new politics  - september 17th, virgo  - athlete, liberty academy  - heterosexual, seeing sylvia(?)  - enfj, ravenclaw   - raised partially in the canary islands with his dad, running their hotel, but also in violet springs with his grandparents.  - friendly, ambitious, a deep thinker but also impatient, overly-critical and a perfectionist. jay was brought up on the canary islands with his father after losing his mother when he was eight. constantly being at the beach, the hotel and new people, he’s a social person with an active imagination and is always on the go. he’s both book and street smart but can at times hold himself to impossible standards; he definitely gets his perfectionist streak from his aunt. the loss of his mum has hurt him, but he buries his feelings as much as possible to avoid talking about them. jay’s always fit in with popular crowds seamlessly and it’s exactly the same story for liberty academy. - jay has already shown huge potential at liberty academy and has been given attention that first years usually don’t get. he’s currently dealing with the end of a friendship with ethan, though, his best friend for many years. it’s lowkey weighing on him but he’d never show that it effects him.

Kai Arden Powell - son of Louis & Lexi. 

- fireflies, owl city  - march 3rd, pisces  -  writer and actor, studying at willow house (cardiff)  - heterosexual, dating sofia  - infj, ravenclaw  - raised in violet springs (?) with louis and lexi, close to his family with good connections to both sides.  - imaginative, selfless, creative but pessimistic, self-pitying and emotional. kai is the perfect example of a high achieving burn-out. all through his school life, he boasted great grades and came at the top of the class for most things, but as the years went on, he lost momentum and started to rest on his abilities. while everybody else levelled up and got better, he declined and started to slowly stop caring about his academic achievements. he was more concerned with the social side and fitting in with people who really didn’t care much about him. when it came to college admissions, he was already failing many classes and got rejected from everywhere besides willow house. he hates it and refuses to even try to enjoy it. - sofia is his lifeline, at the moment. she’s trying to get her dad, wesley, to negotiate with people at st judes to get him a space, but it isn’t necessarily going to work. especially if kai can’t get his grades up and apply himself to his writing and acting seriously. 

Charlotte ‘Lottie’ Bradford - daughter of Drew & Annabel.

- first man, camila cabello -  june 30th, cancer  - singer-songwriter & musician, studying liberty academy (new york)  - enfp, ravenclaw  - raised with drew & annabel as an only child  - romantic, loving, protective and sympathetic but touchy, defensive and an overthinker. lottie grew up with both of her parents and spent a lot of time on the road with drew when he was touring. she’s used to big crowds, music and moving around a lot but grew up very attached to her mother, annabel, she’s her favourite person in the entire world and everything she does is to make her proud.  - lottie ended up dropping out of high school to go to a stage school in london when drew stopped touring; she was around 14, but eventually got homesick and returned, spending her last few years at springs park high before she got accepted into liberty. she’s really set on making memories and doing her absolute best in music - but she’s prone to falling in love with people and getting extremely distracted.

Sullivan Rosini - son of Ruby.

- song undecided  -  14th may, taurus  - actor & singer (vc: frank ocean)  - esfj, gryffindor  - raised by ruby  - independent, humanitarian and sociable but also head-strong, stubborn and judgemental. sullivan was adopted by ruby when he was seven and settled very quickly into the family home. since around 12 years old, he’s been an activist and had a huge presence online for animal rights. he’s been arrested multiple time at different protests and it gives ruby the most anxiety but she’s also very proud of him. 

[olicity-fanwork-exchange]

Title: Your Fire Under My Skin by allimarie_xf ( @allimariexf )

Rating: Teen

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationship: Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak

Characters: Oliver Queen, Felicity Smoak

Additional Tags: Missing Scene, Remix, Fic of Fic, AU, Alternate Universe - Earth 2, UST

Notes:

Dear @cruzrogue (AO3: cruzrogue) Surprise, my friend! I am so lucky to have you as my giftee, and I’ve had an awesome time “living” in your universe!!

Of the three works you gave me to choose from, I decided to write in your intriguing Earth-2 AU, Earth-2 Felicity Q-Smoak 

I admit that I find writing in AU to be a challenge - I have actually never done it before! But I was drawn in by the mysterious world you’ve created in this story, and I was especially intrigued by the history between Oliver and Felicity. There are 13 years between your story’s “present” and its flashbacks, and clearly a lot has happened between them during those years. I couldn’t help but want to fill in that blank, just a little bit ;)

So this little missing scene takes place early in Oliver and Felicity’s past, during their voyage back to the U.S. (I would say it is set between chapters 2 and 3 of your fic). I had SO MUCH FUN writing this. Thank you for giving me the opportunity! *mwah!*

She’d taken to leaving the door open a crack when she went to bed. She couldn’t exactly pinpoint when it happened, or why, but somewhere in the unexamined back of her mind she was aware it had to do with him.

With the way his eyes were always on her, the way she could feel it. At first it was an annoyance, the way she would look away from her tablet, her meal, her conversation with one of the crew, and the first thing her eyes would meet were his, watching her. It felt like an invasion of her privacy, like he had the ability to see more than she chose to show, and that made her deeply uncomfortable. But the longer it went on, the longer he refused to betray or exploit any of the weaknesses she felt sure he could perceive, the more she began to trust that he wouldn’t.

And without realizing it, she began to find comfort in his presence. She began to crave it, began to let herself enjoy the physical sensation that buzzed down her spine when her eyes met his from across the room. She wasn’t immune to the tension that constantly sparked between them, the attraction that, if she wasn’t mistaken, went both ways, but she had plenty of experience with men, with sex, and she mostly tried to convince herself that the thrill she experienced in his vicinity had more to do with the almost-taboo circumstances of their acquaintance, or with the self-imposed abstinence of her business trip, than anything to do with him personally.

So when his deep blue eyes made something stir in her core every time she connected with his steady gaze, she refused to look deeper into it.

But she did begin the leave the door open, feeling more at ease, somehow, knowing he was just outside.

She woke up with a start, the sweat soaking through her satin nightgown making it stick to her skin.

She took several gulping breaths of air that, if not exactly fresh, was at least not the stifling, smoky air from Nanda Parbat. Her heartbeats began to slow when it suddenly occurred to her that she wasn’t alone. She felt his presence in the darkness. “How long have you been standing there?”

At first he didn’t answer, but she turned her eyes toward the spot near her nightstand where she knew he was watching her with that same penetrating gaze that saw too much. It had only been a few weeks since he’d been thrust upon her, an unwarranted “gift” from Ra’s al Ghul with, she suspected, his own agenda, but as she listened to him through the silence, she realized with a jolt of surprise that she was already learning to read him, too. She could feel him hesitating, considering his response.

“Less than five minutes,” he finally replied, his voice rough from disuse.

She let that sink in, knowing in the back of her head that with anyone else she would have felt violated, but that with him she only felt protected. Comforted. An alarm went off somewhere deep inside her at that thought, because Felicity Smoak didn’t crave protection. Felicity Smoak didn’t need protection. “And why did you come in here?” she asked, her voice extra sharp because she knew she must have cried out in her sleep. She felt exposed, aware that he had seen her wrestling with the fear she’d felt standing in front of the Demon’s Head, fear she’d managed to suppress and overcome, except in her dreams.

He cleared his throat. “I heard a disturbance. A struggle. I thought, maybe…,” his voice faded, but his implication was clear. He’d expected to find her grappling with an enemy, only to find her locked in a nightmare. “But there was no attacker.”

Knowing that he had observed her weakness, and that her first instinct had been to welcome his watchful presence, her alarm blossomed into irrational anger. “Then why did you stay?” she snapped, attempting to leverage the unequal balance of power between them that she normally tried to erase: she, the wealthy woman and he, the virtual slave standing around waiting upon her whim. He, a silent, menacing man, who carried a sword and whose very presence disturbed the peace on her yacht, yet who followed her around offering unasked for protection as if her safety was the only thing he lived and breathed for. Since he’d joined them, the air of camaraderie had evaporated among the crew; even her four hired bodyguards seemed to melt away from his presence. Out of all the people on the boat, she was the only one who didn’t shrink away from him, which she only just now realized had served to isolate her as well. She should have laughed in his face and forced him to sleep on the deck, instead of allowing herself to be drawn in by his eyes.

She waited for a reply that didn’t come, and all at once she needed to see him, to face him down, to prove that she was equal to his evaluating gaze, to prove to him and to herself once and for all that he was just a man, with no special insight or power over her. To prove that she didn’t need nor desire his protection. In one quick motion she switched on the bedside lamp, surprising him as he stood over her with a deeply conflicted look on his face.

All of her anger fell away at once.

MORE UNDER THE CUT!

He was standing next to her bed, much closer than she’d imagined, and his eyes locked onto hers immediately. Wide, blue eyes that held more passion and depth than she had ever seen in another person, and it hit her that he was just a man, and all the more dangerous for it, but it hit her also that she no longer cared.

He was overly large in the intimate space of her bedroom, and Felicity realized with a flash of self-awareness that her satin nightgown had ridden up around her waist. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead of answering her, his eyes raked slowly down her body, as if compelled, taking in every inch of her exposed skin.

Felicity watched his adam’s apple bob and felt a spike of hot lust run through her at his reaction. She took refuge in directness, a strategy which had helped her a lot when she’d first been finding her footing in the business world. “It was only a nightmare. I’m fine.” She squirmed internally under his gaze, half hoping he would take her words as a dismissal, half hoping he would act on the raw desire she read in his flared nostrils and dilated pupils.

Her words seemed to jolt him back to the present, and when he turned his eyes to hers, there was a softness there she didn’t expect. “I didn’t realize you were prone to nightmares.” His tone was a subtle question, an invitation.

She knew she could answer him brusquely, reinforcing the wall around any of her seeming vulnerabilities, and that he would leave her without objection. If the past few weeks had taught her anything about him, it was that he would do as she asked, as long as she didn’t ask him to give up protecting her. But instead she found herself asking, again, “Why did you stay?” and this time her eyes were on his, granting him permission to answer honestly.

He swallowed heavily as his gaze dropped to the floor. “I heard…some of what you said.” His eyes drifted warily back up to her face. “About Nanda Parbat, and Ra’s al Ghul.”

Felicity stared back at him, sensing his sympathy but, strangely, not feeling patronized by it.

“It is an uneasy place, and the memories also,” he bit his lip, searching for the right word, “visit me, when I sleep.”

“You have nightmares too?” Her surprise made her blunt, which she realized when he suddenly blinked and looked away. Without intending to, she reached a hand toward him. “I mean, of course your experience there….” She drifted off as she watched him stare at her hand, half-extended and hanging in mid-air. She shivered suddenly, out of nowhere, as her body began to react to the cooling sweat that covered her body.

Instead of answering, he reached out and tugged the edge of her nightgown down, as if doing so could counter her chill. “You’re cold.”

The sensation of his fingers brushing over her skin had her shuddering again, and when she met his eyes they were much nearer than they had been. “No, I,” she licked her dry lips, “I’m just covered in sweat.” She huffed a self-conscious laugh. “Dreaming about those smoky fires and stuffy caverns had a physical effect, I guess.”

Oliver nodded seriously, and she was sorry that her nightmares seemed to have awakened his own dark memories which were, she was certain, much worse than her own experiences. After all, she had faced the Demon and reached a mutually beneficial agreement; Oliver had lived captive in Nanda Parbat for years, fighting to earn his freedom, and yet still not having truly achieved it.

His fingers were still stroking idly along her bare thigh as she held his gaze for a long moment. “I should probably get cleaned up before I try to sleep again.”

He nodded slowly. “I’ll run you a bath.”

Felicity’s jaw dropped, but he had already turned away toward her private bathroom before she could protest. Instead she listened, intrigued, as he turned the faucet on and the tub began filling up. She imagined him in the small space of her bathroom, wondering what he was up to, and whether he planned to stay and bathe her. It wasn’t an unappealing thought, and she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t let herself think about him like that on numerous occasions already.

She’d caught him staring at her more times than she could count, and it had been weeks since she’d first read the admiration in his gaze. Admiration that had grown more bold, more brazen, since she’d found herself returning it. It was not a thing they’d ever spoken of, but neither was it something either of them was ashamed of. He was clearly aware of his own sexual appeal, and Felicity had never been a woman to play coy. It was only natural that they’d be attracted to one another. Yet the unconventional nature of their relationship prevented her from taking things further, though doing so would otherwise have been the logical and undoubtedly very gratifying next step.

After several minutes of waiting, Felicity stood up, pulling her flimsy nightgown down as far as it would go, which wasn’t very far, and made her way to the bathroom. She could see him through the open door. His back was to her, and he was kneeling in front of the tub, bent over with his hands dipping into the water.

He had removed the stiff outer layers of his dark League of Assassins uniform, revealing a loose linen undershirt. He’d rolled up the sleeves to prevent them from getting wet, exposing his muscled forearms.

Felicity felt herself getting wet instead.

She watched silently from the doorway as he sat back and wiped his dripping hands on his shirt before reaching for a lighter and one of the candles she had strewn along the edge of the bathtub. He silently lit the candle and set it back down, keeping his back to her as he started to speak. “The fires in Nanda Parbat,” he lifted another candle, setting the wick alight, “they’re not comfortable fires. Their flames are too hot for warmth, and they consume the air so that one cannot breathe freely.” He lit another candle, then another. “They burn too brightly, create shadows that are too dark by contrast. When I close my eyes I can still see them against the backs of my eyelids, and when I sleep their heat burns me awake, too.” He turned around to face her, and she saw the shadowed memories in his eyes.

She drew toward him, compelled by the look on his face and his quiet tone of voice, and when he reached a long arm around to flick off the light switch behind her, she stepped closer, unconsciously seeking his body.

He dropped his arm but didn’t lean away, and she turned her face up to him, watching the candlelight play over his face, highlighting full lips and contoured cheeks and jaw. Without his league armor he seemed infinitely softer, more touchable, and Felicity fought the urge to reach out and stroke his jaw.

His eyes flicked to her lips and lingered there, and when he raised his eyes to hers she knew they were both aware of how easy it would be, could be, to close the already small distance between them. But she also knew, somehow, that they were already beyond the point of purely physical gratification. The tension between them already ran deeper.

He stepped aside, gesturing for her to move past him toward the bath. Felicity held his eyes a moment longer before moving away, unselfconsciously lifting her nightgown over her head and stepping out of her panties as she went. She felt his eyes hot on her skin but didn’t turn around.

“You speak of the uneasy fires in Nanda Parbat and yet you’ve gone and lit fires here, too.”

She heard his soft chuckle, so much lighter than any sound she’d heard from him before. “I suppose a part of me hopes the fires in your dreams can be rewritten, Miss Smoak.”

She hesitated at the edge of the bath, prolonging the moment. “And you suppose that you will be the one to rewrite them?”

She heard his small intake of breath and she smiled, knowing she had caught him off guard.

“Miss Smoak, I…,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “I had to try.”

She dipped the toes of one foot into the tub, testing the water. “What about the fires in your dreams, Oliver? Who will rewrite them?”

She felt his gaze on her back, warming her more thoroughly than the flickering candles, and for a moment she thought he might reach out to her, encompassing one bare shoulder in his large hand, his other arm reaching around to pull her back into his chest. But the silence stretched and the air around her body grew colder without his touch and she sighed quietly, lowering herself into the water, knowing their moment had passed.

Just before she heard the door close, his words reached her. “If anyone can, Miss Smoak, you’ll be the first to know.”

She sank deeper into the tub then, letting the warm water ease the ache in her taut nipples, letting the promise of his words sink into her heart.

[archivederedblog]

timestamp post (don’t bother to read it, it’s just my about)

Full name:

Meredith Queen Miller (Ered). Might have requested to be called Ered for her ‘codename’ to be like her gay dads and it probably just stuck. For now? I’ve decided for the ‘hinted’ backstory to Ered’s that she was allowed to change her middle name, and my Ered being as self-absorbed as she is? Wanting to feel better about herself after finally ditching her blood parents? Chose Queen.

Ethnicity

Slavic-Russian with Welsh and Russian background.

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Personality:

Aloof, quiet, relaxed, extremely selfish, conceited, lazy, yet blunt and truthful, but overall stoic. Ered is not actively malicious but is very self serving and manipulative toward others for her own goals. She’s shown to be friendly however, and even concerned such as when Nikki almost died because of Neil. Though… she made no attempts to stop him. Most likely a bit spoiled considering how she uses others to do her dirty work for her. Despite these traits, she’s a thrill seeker by nature with her love of extreme sports. Can be extremely merciless when wronged under the right circumstances so far as being ‘okay’ with violence and murder, as shown in episode 4, s1. Granted Nikki rallied them to kill space kid? Ered did not lift a finger to stop them, most likely even understanding the ramifications better of such actions as presumably the eldest.

However, she has shown to be a girl of passion and has a soft spot to things that manage to get close to her. Showing pride and even a sense of paternal tenderness. She is either passionate with someone or completely nonchalant, or uncaring- it can vary between the two.

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Physical and mental traits:

Seems rather athletic, but overall her physique is unknown, though she seems to be at least well toned if not outright muscular for a teen. If anything, Ered is most likely built for speed, dexterity, and endurance rather than outright strength. Though I imagine she could and would put up a fight if need be if she had no one else to do it for her. Seems to be overall able to endure a lot of physical punishment and heals extremely quick on almost supernatural and cartoon logic levels. She doesn’t seem to be slow-witted or dumb, but her report cards would say otherwise, I imagine she just doesn’t care however.

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Looks:

Long blonde hair with a large and small purplish-pink streak in it. Has a slender and tall frame, pinkish skin and ears, and most notable facial feature is her eyes: being either gray, or a blue-gray. Appears to be in early-mid teens or at least late pre-teens. Has a leather jacket, a yellow shirt with light purplish boots. Wears torn jeans. Overall aesthetic appears to be a tough, cool, yet very feminine appearance. Has either very nice looking eyes or wears makeup and is considered canonically beautiful.

Age specific details:

Ered is around 5'5 to 5'6 for in camp verse in comparison to her height to the adults Gwen and David for the canon age which is most likely 12-13.

Age outside of Camp Camp interactions:

Ranges in at about 6 to 6'2 ft for her current, present real time age at 17 going on 18. Is beginning to bulk out due to her muscles starting to fully develop.

Height as a fully grown adult? Probably ranging in at about 6'6 or maybe even 6'7-8ish. Has an amazon-esque build.

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The Millers.

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Gerald Jr, J Miller. (Is called Jay-jay by his lover as an affectionate name).

Gender: male

Age: N/A

Ethnicity: African american with french and germanic descent.

Is an intelligent thinker, calm and collected for the most part with a deep sense of empathy and sensitivity. Professional in how they carry themselves along with their husband. Has a great sense of sincerity along with a cool demeanor.

( Gerald is a masculine German given name meaning “rule of the spear” from the prefix ger- (“spear”) and suffix -wald (“rule”).

John (Johnathan) Alexander Miller. (Is called Champ by Gerald)

Gender: Male

Age: Unknown.

Ethnicity: Caucasian with English and Scottish background.

Is more of a philosophical thinker, while calm and collected? He is more brash to action unlike his husband, yet has a great sense of control, empathy while being sensitive of others though not as great as Gerald, however he is quite generous and unselfish. Professional in how they carry themselves along with their husband.

The name Johnathan is a Hebrew baby name. In Hebrew the meaning of the Johnathan is: Jehovah has given. In the bible Jonathan son of King Saul was noted for manliness (That chin of his j e s u s); generosity and unselfishness. He saved David’s life when Saul would have killed him.

Alexander being an obvious reference to Alexander the great, a great ruler of most of the known world in ancient times.

Reasons for names: Mainly to mesh with Ered’s true name.

The name Meredith is a welsh baby name. In Welsh the meaning of the name Meredith is: Guardian of the sea. Great chief. Great ruler. This name can be given to children of either gender, but is more common among girls.

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Pets: a Rottweiler she got as a puppy from the sky in a storm. A ball python she’s had even before her dads adopted her.

The dog is named Patti, after a famous skater girl named Patti Mcgee, heralded as one of the first female professional skate boarders. A well trained dog due to the insistence of her dads. Goes outside through a dog door on their own to use the restroom, follows Ered when she’s home. Was taught to ride a skateboard by Ered with a specially designed helmet for dogs.

The ball python is named Monty. A semi-affectionate snake that likes neck rubs and hanging out with Patti or Ered, often coiling around either one of them.

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Character analysis on traits and major actions: (greater detail into Ered’s character)

Ered as a character is an introverted teen, considered canonically cool, beautiful, popular, tough and smart (most likely not taking her academic knowledge into account, as it is seemingly poor) despite her stoic, spoiled, and aloof behavior: she is adored or liked by nearly all the campers except Max and potentially Neil.

Ered as an individual appears to mostly keep to themselves unless something or someone of interest appears to them, or is receiving positive attention. Otherwise, she most likely isn’t concerned or is indifferent to set object or person in question. Ered frequently uses others that mean nothing to her or even if she likes them, though is extremely upfront about it and even outright admitting to a girl (who still admires and looks up to her) that she was using her, like it should’ve been obvious. Even going as far as putting her in a fight against one of her friends after manipulating her to her side when she took over her camp as its leader.

A lot of Ered’s character points to being hinted strongly at being conceited or at the very least enjoying positive attention immensely. As any dirty work may be seen as beneath her unless forced into acting to which she has always responded in a cruel manner.

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This will cover parts of Ered I have not really elaborated on in this blog and give people a better idea of what she’s capable of and what she’s willing to do.

As mentioned near the very above: Ered has a very merciless streak to her if wronged under the right circumstances. As for example? She may have not have ordered it, but the kids of the camp rallied to ‘murder’ Space Kid in one instance after only making Ered SLIGHTLY mad. Her only reaction was literally no reaction other than just acting as if this was normal, displaying a very concerning behavior of just, ‘it wasn’t a big deal’. This meaning: Ered has little to no qualms to violence and potentially murder if wronged or pushed into the right circumstances. However, she prefers to have others do her dirty work at her core, even though physically more able than most if not all of the campers (Other than Nurf’s extreme hulking strength yet seemingly low pain tolerance compared to Ered’s).

After much debate and analyzing older episodes? If she can get away with it in a rare circumstance? I’ve decided she can and will get violent on her own volition under rare circumstances and have the means to do it, though it really depends if she’s just playing around or not. Like, she’s a big girl for her age, probably 13-14 for the canon one and probably didn’t put TOO much thought into ramming Nerris in the Christmas special. She didn’t seem intending to hurt her or thinking she could handle it or just did not care altogether (That’s the most likely one tbr so that’s why lol)! But do keep in mind and to make this clear she’s probably just going to be messing around more often than not if she gets physical, I imagine it’d take an extreme situation for her to get physically violent to actually hurt someone on purpose in my canon verse.

So yeah, I’ve concluded that she dislikes fighting, perhaps maybe from knowing how much she can actually mess someone up on accident? It’s hard to say, but probably can as I already hc her knowing self-defense arts due to her dads. Because why would they not teach her l o l? As there’s no reason not to considering it could help her build self-confidence from being heavily hinted to have been abused, keep her safe and so on. So yeah, expect her to fight back if attacked and rather well actually.

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Potentially has connections due to maybe her two dads, the Mr. Millers:

Mainly being that Ered canonically used two of the other kids and a dump truck to make herself look good. It was in one scene in the final episode of S1 when the kids were trying to impress David to get their prize. It begins with Preston literally somehow removing all the dirt in the forest trail and making it appear unnaturally smooth, to which David is distressed and asks immediately for it to be put back. Hearing Ered’s voice in the distance of saying, “I’m on it!” Space Kid appears driving a dump truck in reverse: dumping all the dirt onto Preston to which Ered shortly appears afterward at the top of the dump truck, mounting her skateboard and riding down the dirt pile and giving one of Preston’s hands a high-five as she descends to David, promptly asking for some hoverboots as her reward.

After that scene ends, it displays several abilities of Ered: she managed to receive and sneak a dump truck into the camp in less than a day, perhaps a few hours and managed to teach an eight year old how to drive it. She manipulated the both of them to make herself look good in front of David, showing her stupidly high charisma once again. And also displaying a bit of high, spoiled expectations for rewards, as a pair of hoverboots would range in millions of dollars.

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Examples of her physical abilities:

Ered’s endurance to physical punishment and abilities are near or on superhuman levels: being able to crash through wooden half-pipes unscathed without a scratch or suffering serious injuries potentially at first glance while revealed to remaining unharmed. Being in a full body cast after a base jumping accident to which given the duration of summer camps? Potentially only wore it for a week or even just a few days before being completely fine, shrugging it off in its entirety with no signs of scars or permanent damage.

Cartoon logic plays heavily into Camp Camp and especially Ered’s character, so it’s clear that this is most likely intentional to her as a concept.

Ered will have knowledge in self-defense and hand to hand combat, along with the knowledge of how to use a fire as I imagine her gay dads are probably the reason she might be so physically competent along with her deadly aim, along with other secret stuff. Though Ered is still clearly gifted by herself, but I had actually considered the scenario of Ered being a junior agent due to her connections of getting a dump truck seemingly from nowhere in the season 1 finale of episode 12, along with knowing subterfuge and manipulation, so that might actually ring true.

Ered’s aim has been displayed to be incredibly precise, managing to make a bullseye with a hook prosthetic from the Quartermaster of the Camp. Mind you, being in a relaxed position on a couch while hurling it from the side of it is no easy task.

Has shown to be skilled in driving vehicles due to her most likely teaching Space Kid and even so far as repairing them such as thrashing the competition in motorcycle repair in one episode. Perhaps even being skilled as far as building them if given enough time. Most likely has a permit to drive due to her social status and potential influence.

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Random cool kid facts:

Age ranges from 13-16 considering her height. She is either 15-16, or a very tall 13-14 year old.

Extremely good aim, managed to land a bullseye on the first try using QM’s hook with the attachment still apart of it.

Most likely the eldest kid other than Nurf at the camp.

Has only ever said anything profane once, which is ‘pussies for life’.

Signed up for extreme sports camp.

Real name is probably Meredith according to Nikki.

Her real name means great lord or sea-lord, which is also a contributing factor to how my default tag is named properly, along with her being an Orca Siren in the monster AU. It is welsh in origin.

Most likely skilled at hackiesack.

May like the wind blowing in her hair.

Likes the colors pink, purple and purplish pink.

Has potential access to motorcycles on the camp grounds due to episode 11 when they did motorcycle repair. I doubt they brought in random motorcycles. This is most likely due to her extreme sports camp and is probably using her own.

Likes people in super good shape potentially or just for looks for that #aesthetic.

Is 0% or 200% with people. It’s yeah or nah. She’s a girl of passion with the few that manage to get close however.

Has a soft spot toward things/kids/people she considers her own dudes.

Can’t gauge well potentially what other dudes can handle compared to herself in terms of sustaining damage.

Is a free spirit.

May or may not know all of the campers’ actual names, except for ones that have shown to be cool/useful such as Harrison or Nikki. Or at least the ones she doesn’t care about, considering she calls Neil ‘nerd kid’, even referring to Harrison and Nerris as ‘magic’ dudes before Harrison’s episode where he did a bunch of ‘cool’ things.

Has two gay dads in the FBI.

Potentially a junior agent with the abilities she’s shown or at least taught by her two gay dads regarding certain things, such as her aim and self-defense. Perhaps they simply honed her abilities with their own expertise.

Ered might be her own cute little ‘codename’ to be like her gay dads from the government.

Ered hates being around ‘sick dudes’.

Relatively muscled and strongly toned, able to hold even Nikki up with ease with one arm.

Has some form of resistance to illness, able to be bitten by an infected Nikki and only entirely infected after getting swarmed by three people.

Uses vulgarity with minor innuendo in one situation but avoids outright cursing, perhaps from her own dads’ influence.

Has been confirmed to be an older sister-like figure.

Has reference Cowboy Bebop on the show in, ‘Whatever happens, happens’. Strangely enough I’ve had her reference Cowboy Bebop before that junk was said in S3 Episode 6 somewhere on the blog or in a stream.

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Headcanons:

Disclaimer:

Some these headcanons are a little old when I was still nervous of revealing my Ered being a transitioned demigirl about two years ago (I just said she was transgender at the time but now I have a better idea what exactly to call the label). So that’s why it’s a bit constrasting or doesn’t make sense.

Concepts and ideas:

Click me.

Anything here is not to detract or change the character in personality, looks, or general demeanor, but more or less add onto to Ered as a character and to reflect canon and the kids (most of them anyway) in how they break the norms. Such as Neil being an unshy nerd, Nikki being a wild adventure girl that likes dirt, Nurf being an intelligent and articulate bully and so on. With that being said, I actually won’t tolerate being harassed about any of them and will result in an immediate block and or me just turning off anon. You may question me on them regardless, as I will provide answers if you so desire them. I just like the representation behind them and overall how they can fit into Ered’s character. Her parents are actually part of the LGBT+ community to begin with? So one of them is completely valid, and still would be regardless or not.

Headcanon #1: Ered being a high-functioning sociopath has been heavily hinted in the show, though she’s not portrayed as a monster or demonized like in media. There have been numerous studies into sociopaths and overall Ered herself has shown more than one instance of being a sociopath. In reality? I know for a fact that it’s just a personality disorder that CAN be treated and overall aided to learn how to function in society, but not really fix her as a person as there’s really nothing to be fixed? Personality disorders in my own personal experience and studies into them are just a different set of filters that detract from the norm that are often misunderstood.

Headcanon #2: Read this before I actually say what this headcanon is, as this is important. There’s a lot of info for this one, so sit tight as it has been a part of my blog since the beginning. Let me just say this. Being canonically accurate 100% or even close to it is impossible. As only the creators themselves actually know how a character’s personality, their aspirations and what their dreams are down to a science as it is their character, not yours. So never act like it is to be honest. With that being said, it might not be canon, but neither are the hundreds of ships, headcanons, or even your own potential ‘canon’ speculation and thoughts on a character or even your actual portrayal.

And with that being said and hopefully making some people aware, as I said earlier in how I liked the representation? This has actually been a part of my blog from the very start, but I’ve received overwhelming support behind it so I thought I’d actually post the info about it onto here. Well, my Ered is a transitioned demigirl. Why did I add this onto her you may ask? It adds further depth to Ered’s character in how she breaks the norms in being a stoic, introverted, cool pretty girl that’s considered tough. Furthermore, it adds more representation onto the character herself, as it doesn’t actually change her in anyway other than being a demigirl, which really doesn’t change her in the first place. And for online interactions, I’ll let you know ooc if Ered has or have her tell you ic that she’s a demigirl as she is considered ‘passing’ if not more so.

With that out of the way, I realize some of you might unfollow, not follow in the first place or even outright oppose me over this, but before you do. Re-read the above of the bolded text that says, ‘Read this’. And continue reading please, I have more to say. So with that in mind, I can safely say in any argument as the same as, ‘oh well it’s not canon’. I could say the same thing about her being cis as it’s not confirmed regardless, and even if it was? That really doesn’t matter actually. And if you’ve been paying attention to any of my disclaimers or the like, you’d understand why by now. But if you do question me on this, I ask you be respectful and not try to change my mind in any way, as that’s being transphobic rather than having an opinion at that point. As you can disagree with it or even just unfollow/ignore me, but actively trying to change/opposing something for other than the fact she’s just an unaltered transitioned demigirl but still a girl? Is being transphobic, period.

Headcanon #3: Started a highly specialized treatment as a trans demigirl at a very early age before her teens, resulting in her developing completely like a ‘normal’ demigirl growing up all the way to 17, as this kind of treatment is usually unavailable to the average civilian generally due to constraints, but with her money and resources and being spoiled to get w/e she wants. It was no problem with her connections. It’s mainly to make a statement of being an unaltered transitioned demigirl and as an almost canon megalomaniac that she can be the prettiest and coolest girl there is without corrective surgery. As she considers her body completely perfect, just she wanted to develop in what she considered pleasing and the realest her there was.

Headcanon #4: Ered is slightly bulkier in terms of muscle mass when she’s at full growth yet holds an elegant looking body due to her specialized treatment. She stands at a whopping 6′4-6'7 at full height (might be subject to change later if she turns out to be even younger than I thought in the show). This doesn’t change really what I hc’d her as an adult, but it takes less work for her to build muscle that way and provides less health risks with her own healthcare and money.

Headcanon #5: My Ered was born with the name Meredith. And kept it as more or less to just fuck with transphobes as my Ered is a transitioned demigirl. Kinda why I hc why she goes by Ered though also just a code-name maybe to imitate her gay dads.

‘what’s ur R E A L name?

‘Meredith.’

“the one you were b o r n with.’

‘Meredith.’